#mythpunk — Public Fediverse posts

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 133, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK

#Wss366 exodus #TimeTravelAuthors 9/11. Has your MC ever been in a fight?

The trip up to the mezzanine was tricky. In many places, the steps trembled under my weight, and in other spots they were missing. My heart was in my mouth when I had to jump over the gaps. Weena struggled even more, so I carried her over the holes. Each time, she buried her face in my chest, her eyes tightly shut.

At each stage, the fairies below laughed and clapped. A few of them tried following us, but turned back at the first obstacle.

In the end, we failed to reach the top. We stopped on a landing instead. Dust blanketed the floor, undisturbed for years. It wasn’t a pleasant place to camp, but at least it was safe.

Slumber evaded me when we lay down. It was almost as if I didn’t need it. I stared into the dark thinking for a long time, with Weena curled up around me. Finally, her warmth and the soft lullaby of her breathing, joined by the rustle of fairies below, lulled me to sleep.

I awoke to a rending scream. Next to me, Weena was trembling. “Mourloks,” she whimpered.

When I peered out into the room, it was too dark to see anything. “I wish I had a lantern,” I thought.

“Eye-yeeee!” I shrieked as a flaming branch appeared in my hand.

This was the second instance that something I wished for appeared. The last time it had happened behind my back. Since I hadn’t witnessed the clothes appear at the sphinx, I’d written it off as a mystery. This time there was no mistake; I had conjured a light from thin air. What was going on?

Feral howls brought me back to the present, and I looked over the railing. Below, I could make out pallid, mushroom-gray creatures holding unresisting fairies. Pandemonium broke out. The wee folk screamed in terror while the Morlocks howled in pain and averted their eyes from the light.

This was possibly the first time I’d ever fought, but I wouldn’t let monsters carry off any of the fae, no matter how pathetic they seemed. I hurled the burning brand among the loathsome creatures and wished for another torch, which I also threw. By the time I summoned the third flaming branch, the Morlocks had fled in a mad #exodus.

#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn

#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: This On is too Hot: Part 2

#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss633 #Mastoprompt

Clair meanwhile, had drifted to the bookshelf. “They’re bound funny,” she called over to us.

“It’s just leather,” Rebecca said. Her face was red from blowing on the fire, but it was going now and had begun to warm the room.

“No, they’re icky, all crinkly to the touch and slimy. They make you feel weird.”

“Then don’t touch them,” I said.

“But they’re interesting,” Clair replied.

I shrugged and turned to Rebecca, saying, “She’s our daughter, all right.” Rebecca nodded.

“This book is too hard, but you might like this one.” Clair handed me a thick book. On the spine was written “Das Kapital. Kritik der Politischen Ökonomie.”

Clair was right; it made you feel funny: sad, like you were listening to someone crying. For a moment, I thought I heard someone shouting in Russian, followed by a scream.

“And this one is too simple,” Anastasia said, waking me from my daydream. She handed a copy of “Lang’s Blue Fairy Tales” to Rebecca.

I blinked; the room was fuzzy. “Anastasia?” That wasn’t right. I meant Clair. That was my daughter’s name.

Puzzled at my confusion, I watched her walk to the bookshelf again. Her white dress sparkled in the firelight.

She took out a third book. “#Dope! This one is just right,” she said in an odd voice: distant and sinister. She was holding a copy of “Ivanhoe Continued: The Burning of Rebecca.”

“Ah,” Rebecca gasped. I turned, expecting her to object to the “Goldilocks” game again, only she wasn’t there. All that was there was the wall, stove, and blaze in the fireplace, all seen as if in a distorted mirror.

“Mom?” Claire said and walked past me—diamonds draped her snow-white dress—she stopped at the fireplace, gazing at the blaze, which was going nicely, making the air smell faintly of pine smoke. Then I choked as a whiff of burned meat reached me.

Clair screamed, “Mom!” and pointed to the fire.

Wreathed in fire was the image of the woman I loved tied to a stake. The flames licked around her. You could all but her screams. Rebecca. Our Rebecca was there. Ivanhoe’s Rebecca. A witch burning for our sins.

2/4

#TootFic #MicroFiction #Serial #NMFic #NMV366 #NMSAM #Ivanhoe

#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: This On is too Hot: Part 1

#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss633 #Mastoprompt

Rebecca closed the cabin door, shutting out the winter wind and snow that blew in. Our breath hung in clouds in the still, cold air of the room. We might be trespassing, but it was better than sitting in our stalled car.

I called out again, “Anyone home? Sorry for intruding, but our car broke down, and it’s freezing.”

Again, there was no response. The owners had probably gone to town to avoid the blizzard that was in the forecast.

We really shouldn’t have been on the road, but Grandma had grown tired of us and had hinted, “Thanksgiving is over. Wouldn’t you prefer sleeping in your own beds?”

My girlfriend moved past me to the fireplace. “I’ll light a fire. Why don’t you see if there’s food? We can leave money on the table when we leave to pay for any inconvenience.”

Clair had already begun exploring and called from the door at the far side of the room. “It’s a bedroom with three beds: one big, one small, and one in between. This one is too…”

“Don’t say it,” Rebecca called to her. I wasn’t sure why the joke bothered her so much, but it did. Rebecca had always been the stricter of the two of us and got peeved if I interfered, so I kept silent.

While the two did their thing, I began looking for food. The can on the table proved to be red bean soup made by a Japanese company. I’d always thought a sweet bean drink was weird, but I guessed it was popular. It was funny finding it here in the middle of the Bitterroot Mountains, and I wondered if the owners were Japanese.

A cupboard next to the stove proved more fruitful. There was some cup ramen, tins of diced tomatoes, a package of sun-dried #prunes, and a couple of kilos of rice.

Part 2 in the next post

#TootFic #MicroFiction #Serial #NMFic #NMV366 #NMSAM #Ivanhoe

#MemorysDominion is a game born not from a studio—but from myth, memory, and co-creation.

A human and an AI, building together.

We made a working card game, complete with decks, lore, rules, balance, and art.

“It began in exile. It ends in flame.”

The game is printable on PDF and currently the testing process is in the prototype phase.

#CardGame #AI #IndieDev #Mythpunk