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escritoireazulThis was the pinch hit I picked up, even after I told myself I could never sign up for a game again because there wasn't enough structure for me, too much open canon in which to work, after writing the Pioneer Trail/Oregon Trail story, and then I turned around and grabbed this one without even flinching. What the hell was that about, dude?
But I ended up loving writing this story, even though it was a pain in the ass to upload to AO3 and even though it has been even more of a pain in the ass to upload it here. I still wish I'd had longer to write this (some life stuff came up unexpectedly), because I wanted to make it a far more complicated Choose Your Own Adventure story with many more options. However, it worked out, because then I realized I was playing with whether we are our choices or our fate, which filled me with delight.
This story fulfills the Missus Clause Challenge, and was a new fandom for me. With the three game fandoms that were new to me in Yuletide 2011, I've written in more than 50 fandoms!
Title: Fortune, Fate, Freedom
Author: escritoireazul
Written for: Beth Winter for Yuletide 2011
Author's note: This is a transformative work of fiction based on the game Echo Bazaar. It is a Choose Your Own Adventure story, of a sort.
Rating: 13+
Word count: 2300
Summary: Are we the sum of our choices, or are we our fate?
In that great time before -- when she is Lucinda and so very little more and has as yet no thoughts of a daughter – she takes it upon herself to visit a fortuneteller. It is not yet the thing to do, but she is young and has not yet tamed the impetuous desire to do what is not to be done.
(She will never so fully tame herself, but when young, thinks still perhaps she might.)
There is not yet a grand place for fortunetellers to gather. Instead, she slips into things slightly worn and oh so gray and makes her way to Spite. This is practice. Though she feels the fumbling fingers of the urchins, her real money is tucked where they cannot reach, and the bits of jade she’s left for them will only whet their desire to steal more.
Soon enough, she will have a need for their light fingers and loyalty to their gangs. Hers is a long game, and to sacrifice some of her wealth to it is no significant thing. Her mother, and her grandmother, and her great-grandmother before, far back and forever, have taught her the ways of this great game.
Just past the market –
she lingers some short time, watching the silk-weavers spin their designs and tossing tiny pieces of cheese to the feral cats. One twines around her ankles, tail curling secrets against her skin, and though she still thinks herself ready for this, the subtleties of the exchange leave her slightly breathless
– she finally finds the fortuneteller. It’s in a flower shop, the blooms startlingly bright against the gray gloom. There’s no one inside when she lets herself through the door, and for a moment, she stops and she waits.
Continue to Chapter 2.
But I ended up loving writing this story, even though it was a pain in the ass to upload to AO3 and even though it has been even more of a pain in the ass to upload it here. I still wish I'd had longer to write this (some life stuff came up unexpectedly), because I wanted to make it a far more complicated Choose Your Own Adventure story with many more options. However, it worked out, because then I realized I was playing with whether we are our choices or our fate, which filled me with delight.
This story fulfills the Missus Clause Challenge, and was a new fandom for me. With the three game fandoms that were new to me in Yuletide 2011, I've written in more than 50 fandoms!
Title: Fortune, Fate, Freedom
Author: escritoireazul
Written for: Beth Winter for Yuletide 2011
Author's note: This is a transformative work of fiction based on the game Echo Bazaar. It is a Choose Your Own Adventure story, of a sort.
Rating: 13+
Word count: 2300
Summary: Are we the sum of our choices, or are we our fate?
In that great time before -- when she is Lucinda and so very little more and has as yet no thoughts of a daughter – she takes it upon herself to visit a fortuneteller. It is not yet the thing to do, but she is young and has not yet tamed the impetuous desire to do what is not to be done.
(She will never so fully tame herself, but when young, thinks still perhaps she might.)
There is not yet a grand place for fortunetellers to gather. Instead, she slips into things slightly worn and oh so gray and makes her way to Spite. This is practice. Though she feels the fumbling fingers of the urchins, her real money is tucked where they cannot reach, and the bits of jade she’s left for them will only whet their desire to steal more.
Soon enough, she will have a need for their light fingers and loyalty to their gangs. Hers is a long game, and to sacrifice some of her wealth to it is no significant thing. Her mother, and her grandmother, and her great-grandmother before, far back and forever, have taught her the ways of this great game.
Just past the market –
she lingers some short time, watching the silk-weavers spin their designs and tossing tiny pieces of cheese to the feral cats. One twines around her ankles, tail curling secrets against her skin, and though she still thinks herself ready for this, the subtleties of the exchange leave her slightly breathless
– she finally finds the fortuneteller. It’s in a flower shop, the blooms startlingly bright against the gray gloom. There’s no one inside when she lets herself through the door, and for a moment, she stops and she waits.
