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If anyone can point me at any #Lenin novels or any of #Stalin's #WizardOfOz #fanfic I would be grateful. I wish to complete my collection of terrible books by terrible people.
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Well, after a quick check, it seems I have finished writing my fic, just need to edit the epilogue
#fanfic #fanfiction #WoF #WingsofFire #amWriting -
Well, after a quick check, it seems I have finished writing my fic, just need to edit the epilogue
#fanfic #fanfiction #WoF #WingsofFire #amWriting -
Well, after a quick check, it seems I have finished writing my fic, just need to edit the epilogue
#fanfic #fanfiction #WoF #WingsofFire #amWriting -
Well, after a quick check, it seems I have finished writing my fic, just need to edit the epilogue
#fanfic #fanfiction #WoF #WingsofFire #amWriting -
I'm trapped in the #21stcentury. I've been here long enough to get used to things, though. In fact, I just want to learn about 21st century #ai. That includes #llms, other forms of #generativeai, and related topics.
I obviously have zero background in the subject matter beyond reading blog posts. Artificial intelligence intrudes in my life a lot. I'd like to understand as much as possible about those changes, despite my limitations.
On my website (https://cathymarkova.com), I'm sharing how my perspective changes. I'm also exploring the #vtuber concept, but I'm unsure about compatibility. I really enjoy #midcentury aesthetics, of course. From the 2020s, I enjoy #lofi, #kpop and #kdrama, #vibecoding, writing #fanfic at times. -
Least Kan Lakan be Forgotten: Father’s Day Edition (2 of 2)
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Father #FathersDay #MastoPrompt #Rocky[Continued from previous post]
Mao’s eyes narrowed when her former bodyguard Steele met her, En’en, and Yao at the medical room’s door.
The mercenary addressing Mao said, “I have orders to guard you.”
Mao assessed her: “Brigandine, recently cleaned; no bow, but she still carries a short, curved scimitar; and new boots. She’s doing well for herself.”
The skirmisher still had the tan and tousled look of someone more accustomed to riding a horse than being a bodyguard, though.
Mao grimaced; "healthy too." She would have loved to dose the woman, but there wasn’t the slightest sign of ill-health.
“This way, Lady Maomao. Dr. Liu’s orders are that you are not to bother him.” The gleam in Steele’s eye did nothing to diminish Mao’s resentment toward her.
“These are for you,” her guard said, handing Mao a bundle of sky-blue clothes. At least she attempted to hand them to her.
“Are these from ‘him?’” Mao asked, refusing them.
“They are from Lord Kan.”
“Then you may have them. Sell them if you can’t wear them.”
“And if they say I stole them?” the mercenary said.
“Then burn them! I don’t care.”
“Very well. I'll tell them to talk to you if there are any concerns.”
Mao's brows puckered with annoyance, but she said nothing, while the other two women watched with both sympathy and amusement.
[Continued on #AprilFools]
#MicroFiction #TootFic #ApothecaryDiaries #NMFic #SliceOfLife
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Least Kan Lakan be Forgotten: Father’s Day Edition (2 of 2)
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Father #FathersDay #MastoPrompt #Rocky[Continued from previous post]
Mao’s eyes narrowed when her former bodyguard Steele met her, En’en, and Yao at the medical room’s door.
The mercenary addressing Mao said, “I have orders to guard you.”
Mao assessed her: “Brigandine, recently cleaned; no bow, but she still carries a short, curved scimitar; and new boots. She’s doing well for herself.”
The skirmisher still had the tan and tousled look of someone more accustomed to riding a horse than being a bodyguard, though.
Mao grimaced; "healthy too." She would have loved to dose the woman, but there wasn’t the slightest sign of ill-health.
“This way, Lady Maomao. Dr. Liu’s orders are that you are not to bother him.” The gleam in Steele’s eye did nothing to diminish Mao’s resentment toward her.
“These are for you,” her guard said, handing Mao a bundle of sky-blue clothes. At least she attempted to hand them to her.
“Are these from ‘him?’” Mao asked, refusing them.
“They are from Lord Kan.”
“Then you may have them. Sell them if you can’t wear them.”
“And if they say I stole them?” the mercenary said.
“Then burn them! I don’t care.”
“Very well. I'll tell them to talk to you if there are any concerns.”
Mao's brows puckered with annoyance, but she said nothing, while the other two women watched with both sympathy and amusement.
[Continued on #AprilFools]
#MicroFiction #TootFic #ApothecaryDiaries #NMFic #SliceOfLife
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Least Kan Lakan be Forgotten: Father’s Day Edition (1 of 2)
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Father #FathersDay #MastoPrompt #RockyIt had been a while since Maomao had worked with Yao and En’en, but an overnight fire in a barracks meant that every available hand was needed. Dr. Liu has set Maomao to making salve while the other two women rolled bandages. Chaos reigned around their busy island of work. Doctors and other staff flowed in and out of the medical room, constantly demanding more salve, bandages, and other supplies. Screams of soldiers lying on the ground outside rent the air.
This was the scene that greeted Dr. Liu when he entered the room. He cast his eyes around and lit on Mao, fixing her with a #rocky stare usually reserved for Tianyu. She wanted to cover her head in case he tried thumping her head or boxing her ears.
“Here,” he said, thrusting a paper at her. “And take those two,” he said, gesturing toward Yao and En’en. “You’re to be attended like a proper lady!” He nearly spat the last words. Then, without explanation, he turned and left the room.
Maomao clicked her tongue. Having Dr. Liu upset with her would be nothing but a pain. Then there was the paper. She looked at it. On the outside was Onsou’s chop. That meant it was a directive from her unspeakable progenitor. No wonder Liu had taken it seriously, and so he should have. Thwarting Lakan was signing your own death warrant.
She opened and read it. Her tongue clicked again, and her face grew grim: a day with her unspeakable—his birthday.
“It’s an invitation to Verdigris House for this evening,” Mao told the two women who were looking at her curiously. “Due to my ‘status’ and recent events, I am to bring two attendants.” The tone of her voice made her displeasure apparent.
En’en interrupted, “It is not fitting that Lady Yao should act as your attendant!” Daggers couldn’t have been sharper than her words.
For the third time, Mao clicked her tongue. “Tell that to Dr. Liu.”
“It’s okay,” Yao said. “I'm sure it’s the Moon Prince showing his favor for her.”
En’en didn’t look convinced, but there was no disobeying the doctor’s instructions.
“I could use less favor,” Mao thought.
“It’s not from the prince, it’s from that offal that calls himself my #father,” she explained.
"Come," Mao said, grabbing En'en's arm. "Let's tell Dr. Liu we're needed here."
#MicroFiction #TootFic #ApothecaryDiaries #NMFic #SliceOfLife
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The Mad Frank's Dreams: Part 5 The Room
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 FeatureDizziness overtook Chue, and she sank back down onto the straw mat. She began breathing the way she had been taught: in and out, focusing on a point in the center of her belly.
The pain in her head ebbed until it was a dull ache she could ignore. “Things are never as hopeless as they seem,” she reminded herself. True, The Mad Frank’s friends had kidnapped both Maomao and her, but Mao was still alive, and their captors had placed them in the same cell. Surely those were omens of good fortune. The gods must have been smiling on her.
She climbed to her feet and checked on Mao. Lifting one eyelid, she saw that the pupil was dilated. She hoped it was due to drugs, but the gash on Mao's temple made that seem unlikely.
Next, she examined the door. It was solid, and even if she forced it open, she would only escape into hostile, unknown territory. Next came the window. Three meters in front of her was a #featureless wall. Peering up, she could see the sky deepening into darkness. Below, she could see the edge of a rubbish-strewn alley.
Examining the boards followed. They groaned and gave slightly when tested. If she used her full weight, she should be able to remove one and then use it as a lever. That would be noisy. She wondered how long it would take the guards to arrive. Probably not as long as she’d need to make her escape.
She looked back at Mao and abandoned the idea of escaping through the window. The chances of success were slim to begin with, but they vanished if she had to carry an unconscious person.
That left her with only two options: out-talking or overpowering her captors. It was in the hands of the gods, she thought.
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The Mad Frank's Dreams: Part 5 The Room
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 FeatureDizziness overtook Chue, and she sank back down onto the straw mat. She began breathing the way she had been taught: in and out, focusing on a point in the center of her belly.
The pain in her head ebbed until it was a dull ache she could ignore. “Things are never as hopeless as they seem,” she reminded herself. True, The Mad Frank’s friends had kidnapped both Maomao and her, but Mao was still alive, and their captors had placed them in the same cell. Surely those were omens of good fortune. The gods must have been smiling on her.
She climbed to her feet and checked on Mao. Lifting one eyelid, she saw that the pupil was dilated. She hoped it was due to drugs, but the gash on Mao's temple made that seem unlikely.
Next, she examined the door. It was solid, and even if she forced it open, she would only escape into hostile, unknown territory. Next came the window. Three meters in front of her was a #featureless wall. Peering up, she could see the sky deepening into darkness. Below, she could see the edge of a rubbish-strewn alley.
Examining the boards followed. They groaned and gave slightly when tested. If she used her full weight, she should be able to remove one and then use it as a lever. That would be noisy. She wondered how long it would take the guards to arrive. Probably not as long as she’d need to make her escape.
She looked back at Mao and abandoned the idea of escaping through the window. The chances of success were slim to begin with, but they vanished if she had to carry an unconscious person.
That left her with only two options: out-talking or overpowering her captors. It was in the hands of the gods, she thought.
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The Mad Frank's Dreams: Part 5 The Room
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 FeatureDizziness overtook Chue, and she sank back down onto the straw mat. She began breathing the way she had been taught: in and out, focusing on a point in the center of her belly.
The pain in her head ebbed until it was a dull ache she could ignore. “Things are never as hopeless as they seem,” she reminded herself. True, The Mad Frank’s friends had kidnapped both Maomao and her, but Mao was still alive, and their captors had placed them in the same cell. Surely those were omens of good fortune. The gods must have been smiling on her.
She climbed to her feet and checked on Mao. Lifting one eyelid, she saw that the pupil was dilated. She hoped it was due to drugs, but the gash on Mao's temple made that seem unlikely.
Next, she examined the door. It was solid, and even if she forced it open, she would only escape into hostile, unknown territory. Next came the window. Three meters in front of her was a #featureless wall. Peering up, she could see the sky deepening into darkness. Below, she could see the edge of a rubbish-strewn alley.
Examining the boards followed. They groaned and gave slightly when tested. If she used her full weight, she should be able to remove one and then use it as a lever. That would be noisy. She wondered how long it would take the guards to arrive. Probably not as long as she’d need to make her escape.
She looked back at Mao and abandoned the idea of escaping through the window. The chances of success were slim to begin with, but they vanished if she had to carry an unconscious person.
That left her with only two options: out-talking or overpowering her captors. It was in the hands of the gods, she thought.
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The Mad Frank's Dreams: Part 5 The Room
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 FeatureDizziness overtook Chue, and she sank back down onto the straw mat. She began breathing the way she had been taught: in and out, focusing on a point in the center of her belly.
The pain in her head ebbed until it was a dull ache she could ignore. “Things are never as hopeless as they seem,” she reminded herself. True, The Mad Frank’s friends had kidnapped both Maomao and her, but Mao was still alive, and their captors had placed them in the same cell. Surely those were omens of good fortune. The gods must have been smiling on her.
She climbed to her feet and checked on Mao. Lifting one eyelid, she saw that the pupil was dilated. She hoped it was due to drugs, but the gash on Mao's temple made that seem unlikely.
Next, she examined the door. It was solid, and even if she forced it open, she would only escape into hostile, unknown territory. Next came the window. Three meters in front of her was a #featureless wall. Peering up, she could see the sky deepening into darkness. Below, she could see the edge of a rubbish-strewn alley.
Examining the boards followed. They groaned and gave slightly when tested. If she used her full weight, she should be able to remove one and then use it as a lever. That would be noisy. She wondered how long it would take the guards to arrive. Probably not as long as she’d need to make her escape.
She looked back at Mao and abandoned the idea of escaping through the window. The chances of success were slim to begin with, but they vanished if she had to carry an unconscious person.
That left her with only two options: out-talking or overpowering her captors. It was in the hands of the gods, she thought.
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The Mad Frank's Dreams: Part 4 Kidnapped
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Gape #MastoPrompt LooseThe beggar awoke thinking, “Chue’s head hurts.”
Stars danced at the edge of her vision, and her head pounded while nausea clawed at her belly. “She’s lucky, that’s all it is!” Being hit in the head was no joke.
She opened her eyes a slit. She wasn’t sure it would be wise to let people know she was awake yet. The room was dim, with the only light coming from a gap in the boards covering the window. She thought she could pry the boards #loose, but that would make a racket.
Dust danced in a light beam that pierced the gloom. The straw mat under her was old but dry. When she moved her head gingerly, an explosion of pain shot through it, the world spun, and she nearly vomited, but she remained conscious.
#Gaping, she saw a crude drawing of a man being crucified on the wall. A glow surrounded his head, while celestial women heralded his death. She recognized it as a religious drawing from a foreign land. “Chue remembers! The Frank raves about how ‘he’ died for our sins.” It was a sluggish thought, but it made sense under the circumstances.
Below the painting was a bed, but from her angle, she couldn’t tell if it was occupied.
Another painful motion of her head brought the opposite wall into view, a bare wall with a door in it.
“No one,” Chue said, sitting up.
Now, she could see that there was someone in the bed, covered by a thin blanket. "Chue knows who this is," she said, clicking her tongue. "Chue has failed."
“But I should check.”
There were no surprises under the blanket, only Maomao breathing shallowly, a gash in her forehead.
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If Shimamura had Hung Out on the Stairs
#FanFic #AdachiAndShimamura
#Wss366 Grasp“I think you fail to #grasp how your attitude affects your sales…” Shimamura’s sales manager droned on and on. The office was stuffy and institutional, with nondescript paintings on the walls. The room’s only distinguishing feature was a large window overlooking a parking lot.
As usual, Shimamura wasn’t paying attention to the room or the lecture. If she didn’t mind the minuscule commissions she received, why did it matter? She earned enough to cover her rent and convenience store meals.
Normally, she just spaced out or watched the clock to see how soon she could go home to bed. Today, however, she watched a small figure in a spacesuit drift past the window. Sparkles followed it like a comet’s tail.
“Balloon?” she wondered. Not that she had ever seen a balloon like that before.
It stopped outside and bobbed up and down. Yeah, it must be a balloon, she thought, until it opened its helmet, exposing a girl’s face. The girl mouthed the word “soon” and then drifted off again.
“‘Soon’ for what?” Shimamura puzzled.
“Okay, get back to work, and I want to see some sparkle!” the manager said, interrupting her thoughts.
Shimamura bowed and left, thinking, “Maybe I’ll call in sick tomorrow.”
She sighed. “Better not. I’ll get fired. Why can’t it be like school, where I used to hang out alone on the stairs to the roof and spaced out?” Not that she had any great memories of high school.
“Excuse me. Where do these go?” she heard someone ask behind her.
Turning around, she saw the new sales clerk holding up a bathing suit.
“Wow, she’s pretty,” Shimamura thought. Long black hair framed the woman’s lovely, though vacant, face.
The woman fidgeted and looked down, apparently embarrassed.
Shimamura didn’t know the names of any of the sales staff. It was too much bother to learn them, but for once she read the other woman’s name badge: “Adachi Sakura.”
Somewhere, she thought she heard a voice say, “Fate.”
“I’ll show you,” Shimamura said.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #AdachiToShimamura #SliceOfLive #Yuri #Cute #NMFic
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If Shimamura had Hung Out on the Stairs
#FanFic #AdachiAndShimamura
#Wss366 Grasp“I think you fail to #grasp how your attitude affects your sales…” Shimamura’s sales manager droned on and on. The office was stuffy and institutional, with nondescript paintings on the walls. The room’s only distinguishing feature was a large window overlooking a parking lot.
As usual, Shimamura wasn’t paying attention to the room or the lecture. If she didn’t mind the minuscule commissions she received, why did it matter? She earned enough to cover her rent and convenience store meals.
Normally, she just spaced out or watched the clock to see how soon she could go home to bed. Today, however, she watched a small figure in a spacesuit drift past the window. Sparkles followed it like a comet’s tail.
“Balloon?” she wondered. Not that she had ever seen a balloon like that before.
It stopped outside and bobbed up and down. Yeah, it must be a balloon, she thought, until it opened its helmet, exposing a girl’s face. The girl mouthed the word “soon” and then drifted off again.
“‘Soon’ for what?” Shimamura puzzled.
“Okay, get back to work, and I want to see some sparkle!” the manager said, interrupting her thoughts.
Shimamura bowed and left, thinking, “Maybe I’ll call in sick tomorrow.”
She sighed. “Better not. I’ll get fired. Why can’t it be like school, where I used to hang out alone on the stairs to the roof and spaced out?” Not that she had any great memories of high school.
“Excuse me. Where do these go?” she heard someone ask behind her.
Turning around, she saw the new sales clerk holding up a bathing suit.
“Wow, she’s pretty,” Shimamura thought. Long black hair framed the woman’s lovely, though vacant, face.
The woman fidgeted and looked down, apparently embarrassed.
Shimamura didn’t know the names of any of the sales staff. It was too much bother to learn them, but for once she read the other woman’s name badge: “Adachi Sakura.”
Somewhere, she thought she heard a voice say, “Fate.”
“I’ll show you,” Shimamura said.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #AdachiToShimamura #SliceOfLive #Yuri #Cute #NMFic
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If Shimamura had Hung Out on the Stairs
#FanFic #AdachiAndShimamura
#Wss366 Grasp“I think you fail to #grasp how your attitude affects your sales…” Shimamura’s sales manager droned on and on. The office was stuffy and institutional, with nondescript paintings on the walls. The room’s only distinguishing feature was a large window overlooking a parking lot.
As usual, Shimamura wasn’t paying attention to the room or the lecture. If she didn’t mind the minuscule commissions she received, why did it matter? She earned enough to cover her rent and convenience store meals.
Normally, she just spaced out or watched the clock to see how soon she could go home to bed. Today, however, she watched a small figure in a spacesuit drift past the window. Sparkles followed it like a comet’s tail.
“Balloon?” she wondered. Not that she had ever seen a balloon like that before.
It stopped outside and bobbed up and down. Yeah, it must be a balloon, she thought, until it opened its helmet, exposing a girl’s face. The girl mouthed the word “soon” and then drifted off again.
“‘Soon’ for what?” Shimamura puzzled.
“Okay, get back to work, and I want to see some sparkle!” the manager said, interrupting her thoughts.
Shimamura bowed and left, thinking, “Maybe I’ll call in sick tomorrow.”
She sighed. “Better not. I’ll get fired. Why can’t it be like school, where I used to hang out alone on the stairs to the roof and spaced out?” Not that she had any great memories of high school.
“Excuse me. Where do these go?” she heard someone ask behind her.
Turning around, she saw the new sales clerk holding up a bathing suit.
“Wow, she’s pretty,” Shimamura thought. Long black hair framed the woman’s lovely, though vacant, face.
The woman fidgeted and looked down, apparently embarrassed.
Shimamura didn’t know the names of any of the sales staff. It was too much bother to learn them, but for once she read the other woman’s name badge: “Adachi Sakura.”
Somewhere, she thought she heard a voice say, “Fate.”
“I’ll show you,” Shimamura said.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #AdachiToShimamura #SliceOfLive #Yuri #Cute #NMFic
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One like = one reply.
An old question meme for fic writers, which I've been hanging on to for the last six years. I rediscovered it the other day and found that it's by @iodhadh.bsky.social, whom I didn't know at all back then. :)
I am currently working on a fic (... a couple of them) and will answer questions in a bit—but what I would love most of all is for all of you to do this too, so I can hear about *your* WIPs!
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Hey, writers. I wanna know something:
I'm currently working on a fanfic known as "The Tragedy of Aether", a fanfic that takes Rivals of Aether to a violent, gothic extreme inspired by DOOM and Castlevania.
If I were to put my work on AO3 or something, do you prefer I put all the parts together and have a file of the full story there, or should I do something else with txt file fanfics?
#fanfic #fanfiction #writer #RivalsOfAether #ao3 #furry #furrywriting
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A New Sonic Fanfic One-shot by me!: An Intoxicating Dream
"In the middle of the night, Amy's sleep is interrupted by a surprise visitor."https://archiveofourown.org/works/80678666
#SonicTheHedgehog #sonamy #fanfic -
The Mad Frank's Dreams: Part 3 Street Trouble
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 DerelictNeither the sun nor The Frank's hyperbolic ranting could explain the traffic on the street the next day. Flag had an uneasy feeling about the thugs who hung out on one corner and the #derelicts who chose that section of the street to pass out on.
Verdigris House would clean them out before opening for business. In the meantime, they smelled of trouble. She considered going to the brothel, but that would blow her cover, or leaving to get help, but what if something happened while she was gone? In the end, she stayed put, keeping watch.
Noon came, bringing the promise of the morning’s leftover rice or perhaps even a steamed bun, should a courtesan feel generous. The brothels were preparing for the workday to begin, and soon they would sweep the street of riffraff. Part of what she paid the street steward earned her the right to remain.
A figure wove in and out of the crowd, then darted down the alley next to Verdigris House that led to Maomao’s apothecary shop.
Flag stirred uneasily, then stood up when the drunkards rose suddenly in unison. Jinshi had been right to worry that a plot aimed at Maomao was afoot.
She had barely taken three steps when a hand landed on her shoulder. “My, my, isn’t the Flag Lady suddenly spry?”
She turned and grabbed the hand of a pale-haired foreigner. He screamed; his wrist now bent at an obscene angle.
At the edge of her vision, she saw Mao exit the alley with the stranger who had gone in.
The man’s companion reached up a sleeve. The blur of a sap was the last thing she saw before pain exploded in her head and darkness descended.
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The Mad Frank's Dreams: Part 2 Coin Trick
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Forlorn #MastoPrompt MushDays passed. Rumors that the Moon Prince had been ill arose and then subsided. On this particular day, a #forlorn rain fell. Few people were out to tread the #mushy churned road, yet both Flag and The Mad Frank were plying their trade. The former sought aid from passersby, while the latter sought to save their souls. Neither was having any luck.
Late morning came, and one of The Frank's few "regulars" stopped to speak with him. Soon after, The Frank disappeared, and then the beggar vanished as well.
She was back by evening to do tricks for the street steward’s son. Among these, she extracted a larger coin than usual from the boy’s ear. “Ah, Flag sees you’re holding out on the boss,” she said, and passed the coin to the father, being careful not to reveal the note hidden behind it.
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Dreams of The Mad Frank: Part 1 The Flag Lady
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Flesh #MastoPrompt InadaquetThe beggar woman sat in a shaded corner. Her cheeks were sallow from her #inadaquet diet of rice, wild grasses, and scraps that people left her. Years of poverty had eaten away at her #flesh until she appeared to be little more than a skeleton under many layers of her tattered robes.
As people walked by, she held out a bowl containing a few stray coins. Accustomed as they were to beggars, her missing arm evoked little sympathy. It was better not to notice beggars.
Her eyes remained dull until children happened by, and then she came alive. From her robes, she would produce bright strings of flags with a dexterity that belied her emaciation. If the parents looked to have money, she produced a dove to delight the child. This might secure her a few more coins, which she would carefully hide to avoid being robbed. The courtesans of Verdigris House and neighboring brothels called her The Flag Lady or just Flag.
Truthfully, she did well at her trade—both of them.
All the time she sought alms, she kept a close watch on “The Mad Frank,” noting anyone who spoke to him. But when Maomao appeared, Flag lowered her head and ceased performing. “Alas, I am too feeble,” she would moan.
In the evening, a man who was half-jokingly referred to as the street steward and his son came by to collect his share. The beggar would perform a few tricks for the son and conclude by saying, “Nothing more.” If anyone had cared to watch closely, the sum she passed the father had little to do with the amount she earned: one, two, three, or four coins. The amount varied not in proportion to her income, but to the number of visitors The Frank had.
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Dreams of The Mad Frank: Part 1 The Flag Lady
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Flesh #MastoPrompt InadaquetThe beggar woman sat in a shaded corner. Her cheeks were sallow from her #inadaquet diet of rice, wild grasses, and scraps that people left her. Years of poverty had eaten away at her #flesh until she appeared to be little more than a skeleton under many layers of her tattered robes.
As people walked by, she held out a bowl containing a few stray coins. Accustomed as they were to beggars, her missing arm evoked little sympathy. It was better not to notice beggars.
Her eyes remained dull until children happened by, and then she came alive. From her robes, she would produce bright strings of flags with a dexterity that belied her emaciation. If the parents looked to have money, she produced a dove to delight the child. This might secure her a few more coins, which she would carefully hide to avoid being robbed. The courtesans of Verdigris House and neighboring brothels called her The Flag Lady or just Flag.
Truthfully, she did well at her trade—both of them.
All the time she sought alms, she kept a close watch on “The Mad Frank,” noting anyone who spoke to him. But when Maomao appeared, Flag lowered her head and ceased performing. “Alas, I am too feeble,” she would moan.
In the evening, a man who was half-jokingly referred to as the street steward and his son came by to collect his share. The beggar would perform a few tricks for the son and conclude by saying, “Nothing more.” If anyone had cared to watch closely, the sum she passed the father had little to do with the amount she earned: one, two, three, or four coins. The amount varied not in proportion to her income, but to the number of visitors The Frank had.
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Dreams of The Mad Frank: Part 1 The Flag Lady
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Flesh #MastoPrompt InadaquetThe beggar woman sat in a shaded corner. Her cheeks were sallow from her #inadaquet diet of rice, wild grasses, and scraps that people left her. Years of poverty had eaten away at her #flesh until she appeared to be little more than a skeleton under many layers of her tattered robes.
As people walked by, she held out a bowl containing a few stray coins. Accustomed as they were to beggars, her missing arm evoked little sympathy. It was better not to notice beggars.
Her eyes remained dull until children happened by, and then she came alive. From her robes, she would produce bright strings of flags with a dexterity that belied her emaciation. If the parents looked to have money, she produced a dove to delight the child. This might secure her a few more coins, which she would carefully hide to avoid being robbed. The courtesans of Verdigris House and neighboring brothels called her The Flag Lady or just Flag.
Truthfully, she did well at her trade—both of them.
All the time she sought alms, she kept a close watch on “The Mad Frank,” noting anyone who spoke to him. But when Maomao appeared, Flag lowered her head and ceased performing. “Alas, I am too feeble,” she would moan.
In the evening, a man who was half-jokingly referred to as the street steward and his son came by to collect his share. The beggar would perform a few tricks for the son and conclude by saying, “Nothing more.” If anyone had cared to watch closely, the sum she passed the father had little to do with the amount she earned: one, two, three, or four coins. The amount varied not in proportion to her income, but to the number of visitors The Frank had.
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Dreams of The Mad Frank: Part 1 The Flag Lady
#FanFic #TheApothecaryDiaries
#Wss366 Flesh #MastoPrompt InadaquetThe beggar woman sat in a shaded corner. Her cheeks were sallow from her #inadaquet diet of rice, wild grasses, and scraps that people left her. Years of poverty had eaten away at her #flesh until she appeared to be little more than a skeleton under many layers of her tattered robes.
As people walked by, she held out a bowl containing a few stray coins. Accustomed as they were to beggars, her missing arm evoked little sympathy. It was better not to notice beggars.
Her eyes remained dull until children happened by, and then she came alive. From her robes, she would produce bright strings of flags with a dexterity that belied her emaciation. If the parents looked to have money, she produced a dove to delight the child. This might secure her a few more coins, which she would carefully hide to avoid being robbed. The courtesans of Verdigris House and neighboring brothels called her The Flag Lady or just Flag.
Truthfully, she did well at her trade—both of them.
All the time she sought alms, she kept a close watch on “The Mad Frank,” noting anyone who spoke to him. But when Maomao appeared, Flag lowered her head and ceased performing. “Alas, I am too feeble,” she would moan.
In the evening, a man who was half-jokingly referred to as the street steward and his son came by to collect his share. The beggar would perform a few tricks for the son and conclude by saying, “Nothing more.” If anyone had cared to watch closely, the sum she passed the father had little to do with the amount she earned: one, two, three, or four coins. The amount varied not in proportion to her income, but to the number of visitors The Frank had.