#tootfic — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #tootfic, aggregated by home.social.
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“What the heck, why is there a wind turbine sitting on the ground in your backyard?”
“Granny flat!”
“What?”
“Well, you know how some offshore wind farms have keeperhomes where folk live under the turbines?”
“Yeah, never saw the point…”
“I grew up on one, it was magical! My mum retired last year but she misses the Life.”
“And?”
“And I got this turbine shell for a song at auction. She’s moving in next month.”
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“What the heck, why is there a wind turbine sitting on the ground in your backyard?”
“Granny flat!”
“What?”
“Well, you know how some offshore wind farms have keeperhomes where folk live under the turbines?”
“Yeah, never saw the point…”
“I grew up on one, it was magical! My mum retired last year but she misses the Life.”
“And?”
“And I got this turbine shell for a song at auction. She’s moving in next month.”
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Desert-Hearts: Part 3 of 4 Alexandria I
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Graft #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms of a barrel of monkeys?•⋅☾Same Day, Alexandria☽⋅•
Rozemyne was relieved that Ferdinand wasn’t in his lab. She had hinted that she would like to see him today, but Ferdinand was Ferdinand and work and research always came first with him. Today he joined her for the first meal of the day.
“You wanted to see me,” he said. He poured himself some tea, but said nothing more.
“It’s Star-Cross Day,” Rozemyne said.
A look of irritation flickered for an instant on her husband’s face, but was gone by the time he said, “Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”
The aub pushed a red box elaborately decorated with shimmering cut shells. “For you,” she said. Mild disappointment shadowed her face. She had been hoping he might remember and get her a book, but that would have never occurred to Ferdinand.
He sighed as irritation flickered across his face again. With one finger, he flipped open the box and looked inside. “At least they aren’t coach beetles,” he said. If Rozemyne had been expecting him to be excited, she was disappointed.
“Are you going to try them?” she asked.
He took a red, heart-shaped cookie and nibbled on it, nodded, and spoke. “Not bad. We should declare a monopoly on the sale of desert-heart leaves. I’m sure others can copy these, but if we control the prime ingredient, it will bring wealth to the duchy. And if handled correctly, we can smoke out some of the #graft in the provinces.”
He popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, not letting a crumb fall on his outfit.
Rozemyne smiled.
The aub’s eyes gleamed as her husband took out yet another cookie. This was as good as it got in terms of receiving praise from Ferdinand.
“Who else did you give these to?” he asked.
“Just Hannelore,” she replied. Ferdinand froze mid-bite.
[Continued Tomorrow]
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Desert-Hearts: Part 3 of 4 Alexandria I
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Graft #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms of a barrel of monkeys?•⋅☾Same Day, Alexandria☽⋅•
Rozemyne was relieved that Ferdinand wasn’t in his lab. She had hinted that she would like to see him today, but Ferdinand was Ferdinand and work and research always came first with him. Today he joined her for the first meal of the day.
“You wanted to see me,” he said. He poured himself some tea, but said nothing more.
“It’s Star-Cross Day,” Rozemyne said.
A look of irritation flickered for an instant on her husband’s face, but was gone by the time he said, “Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”
The aub pushed a red box elaborately decorated with shimmering cut shells. “For you,” she said. Mild disappointment shadowed her face. She had been hoping he might remember and get her a book, but that would have never occurred to Ferdinand.
He sighed as irritation flickered across his face again. With one finger, he flipped open the box and looked inside. “At least they aren’t coach beetles,” he said. If Rozemyne had been expecting him to be excited, she was disappointed.
“Are you going to try them?” she asked.
He took a red, heart-shaped cookie and nibbled on it, nodded, and spoke. “Not bad. We should declare a monopoly on the sale of desert-heart leaves. I’m sure others can copy these, but if we control the prime ingredient, it will bring wealth to the duchy. And if handled correctly, we can smoke out some of the #graft in the provinces.”
He popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, not letting a crumb fall on his outfit.
Rozemyne smiled.
The aub’s eyes gleamed as her husband took out yet another cookie. This was as good as it got in terms of receiving praise from Ferdinand.
“Who else did you give these to?” he asked.
“Just Hannelore,” she replied. Ferdinand froze mid-bite.
[Continued Tomorrow]
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Disagreements
To be a telepath nowadays is a heavy evolutionary disadvantage. The intense migraine constantly induced by your countless unending disagreements renders me almost unable to function within your society.
#writever #MastoArt #FlashFiction #SmallStory #TootFic #MicroFiction
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When the V-parasites went airborne we nearly lost society to PHANG syndrome. All the media blared that you must wear an airtight mask and cover all exposed skin outdoors. BUT who has that on hand?. Well, somehow a few of us did. A mysterious cadre of neighbours wearing gas masks and form fitting latex self-organised to deliver prophylactic coverings to the rest of us. I’m not sure what purpose the cat-ears served, but we owe these anonymous heroes a debt.
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When the V-parasites went airborne we nearly lost society to PHANG syndrome. All the media blared that you must wear an airtight mask and cover all exposed skin outdoors. BUT who has that on hand?. Well, somehow a few of us did. A mysterious cadre of neighbours wearing gas masks and form fitting latex self-organised to deliver prophylactic coverings to the rest of us. I’m not sure what purpose the cat-ears served, but we owe these anonymous heroes a debt.
-
Six hundred years ago. Mother of All, Ironworker Clan lands.
The oldest of the histories talked of sky gods who could command up and down as easily as one could lift a hand. They flew in arrows of steel across the stars, and had brought people to this world.
Why? The histories did not say. Nor from where.
But today, steel arrows came from the sky. Within were not gods, but devils. More accurately, men, but they had the souls of devils.
They had ransacked the storehouses, taking food and pig iron. They had also raided families, taking the very youngest children with them.
There had been one attempt to stop them, but that had been met with a beam of fire from one of the arrows. Three houses were simply gone, nothing but a glowing pit remained.
Then the devils had returned to their arrows, and taken back to the skies. From there, they sent pillars of smoke that destroyed tracks and roads, cutting their valley off from aid.
And they were gone. Leaving loss and destruction behind them.
The speakers sent for help and warning to the other clans. And help would arrive quickly. They would need to excavate and hide shelters so that none would be stolen again. They would need food to get through the winter. And burnstone to restart the forges.
The speakers shared what they had learned from the minds of the raiders. They knew that their numbers were few. Which was why they stole children. There were too few of them for them to make families safely.
But strangest of all was the devils' language. A curious chaotic mess of a language. One that had no resemblance to the tongue of the people of the Mother of All.
The speakers would need to study it so that the devils could be understood.
But there was one thing that was understood: The devils would be back. And soon. But not to the Ironworkers Clan. Somewhere else.
So for now, preparation. Planning. And mourning those lost in fire, and those lost to the sky. For when those children returned - or more likely the children of those children, they would come as devils.
There was one final tragedy for the Ironworker Clan - least two of the taken were potentially speakers.
#SF #SFF #SciFi #SpaceOpera #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #ShamanSpace #IAmWriting
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Six hundred years ago. Mother of All, Ironworker Clan lands.
The oldest of the histories talked of sky gods who could command up and down as easily as one could lift a hand. They flew in arrows of steel across the stars, and had brought people to this world.
Why? The histories did not say. Nor from where.
But today, steel arrows came from the sky. Within were not gods, but devils. More accurately, men, but they had the souls of devils.
They had ransacked the storehouses, taking food and pig iron. They had also raided families, taking the very youngest children with them.
There had been one attempt to stop them, but that had been met with a beam of fire from one of the arrows. Three houses were simply gone, nothing but a glowing pit remained.
Then the devils had returned to their arrows, and taken back to the skies. From there, they sent pillars of smoke that destroyed tracks and roads, cutting their valley off from aid.
And they were gone. Leaving loss and destruction behind them.
The speakers sent for help and warning to the other clans. And help would arrive quickly. They would need to excavate and hide shelters so that none would be stolen again. They would need food to get through the winter. And burnstone to restart the forges.
The speakers shared what they had learned from the minds of the raiders. They knew that their numbers were few. Which was why they stole children. There were too few of them for them to make families safely.
But strangest of all was the devils' language. A curious chaotic mess of a language. One that had no resemblance to the tongue of the people of the Mother of All.
The speakers would need to study it so that the devils could be understood.
But there was one thing that was understood: The devils would be back. And soon. But not to the Ironworkers Clan. Somewhere else.
So for now, preparation. Planning. And mourning those lost in fire, and those lost to the sky. For when those children returned - or more likely the children of those children, they would come as devils.
There was one final tragedy for the Ironworker Clan - least two of the taken were potentially speakers.
#SF #SFF #SciFi #SpaceOpera #microfiction #microfic #tootfic #ShamanSpace #IAmWriting
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Desert-Hearts: Part 2 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?[Continued from previous post]
“Can’t I say I’m too busy?” Hannelore asked.
“I’ll tell her you only have a few moments to spare. We’re in a public place, and you’re rumored to be on excellent terms with her. Your retreat would give the other duchies a hint that there are problems between you. They will try to take advantage of it.”
“Very well.” If only this were an open battle on the Dither Field, Hannelore would know what to do. But the complexities of inter-duchy diplomacy were a minefield she didn’t enjoy. Still, it had to be done, and she put a brave face on as Sorrona approached and gave the expected fulsome greeting.
Finished with formalities, the Alexandrian woman presented Cordula with a red box. Scarlet ribbons decorated with carnelian gemstone tips adorned the present. The box and ribbons alone made a stunning present. “I hear Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven your threads exceptionally short today, but when you have time, please partake of the contents,” Sorrona said, curtsying.
“Thank you,” Hannelore said, keeping her smile on. “Aub Rozemyne is more than generous. Please pass to her and Duke Ferdinand the word that Dunkelfelger seeks the wisdom of Erwachlehren. We will in due time show our proper appreciation for Brennwaerme’s gifts.”
This response left Sorrona puzzled, though she would hardly dare say so. Why would Hannelore refer to Brennwaerme, the god of passion?
While she considered this, the Dunkelfelger noble glanced at Cordula and, receiving a nod of approval, rose and excused herself. “It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today’s threads with exceptional speed and grace.”
Once Hannelore was back in her chambers, Cordula commended her. “You did well. Your parents will be pleased with your diplomacy. If only you’d done as well in the past.”
“Is the box from Wilfried?” Hannelore asked. It was a slender hope since Sorrona and Rozemyne were from the Duchy of Alexandria, while Wilfried remained in Ehrenfest. But perhaps Rozemyne was acting on her brother’s behalf.
Cordula inspected the box, and finding it safe, passed it to her charge. Inside were light-red heart-shaped cookies. Each one had a “desert-heart” leaf pressed into its surface.
“I think not,” the head maid said, crushing Hannelore’s hopes. “It’s from Aub Rozemyne, my lady. I fear you must make your feelings clear to your parents about a match with Ferdinand. The present we return must reflect the direction we wish to take. We can no longer ignore their overtures. A romantic present on Star-Cross Day can only mean one thing.”
[Continued Tomorrow]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 2 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?[Continued from previous post]
“Can’t I say I’m too busy?” Hannelore asked.
“I’ll tell her you only have a few moments to spare. We’re in a public place, and you’re rumored to be on excellent terms with her. Your retreat would give the other duchies a hint that there are problems between you. They will try to take advantage of it.”
“Very well.” If only this were an open battle on the Dither Field, Hannelore would know what to do. But the complexities of inter-duchy diplomacy were a minefield she didn’t enjoy. Still, it had to be done, and she put a brave face on as Sorrona approached and gave the expected fulsome greeting.
Finished with formalities, the Alexandrian woman presented Cordula with a red box. Scarlet ribbons decorated with carnelian gemstone tips adorned the present. The box and ribbons alone made a stunning present. “I hear Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven your threads exceptionally short today, but when you have time, please partake of the contents,” Sorrona said, curtsying.
“Thank you,” Hannelore said, keeping her smile on. “Aub Rozemyne is more than generous. Please pass to her and Duke Ferdinand the word that Dunkelfelger seeks the wisdom of Erwachlehren. We will in due time show our proper appreciation for Brennwaerme’s gifts.”
This response left Sorrona puzzled, though she would hardly dare say so. Why would Hannelore refer to Brennwaerme, the god of passion?
While she considered this, the Dunkelfelger noble glanced at Cordula and, receiving a nod of approval, rose and excused herself. “It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today’s threads with exceptional speed and grace.”
Once Hannelore was back in her chambers, Cordula commended her. “You did well. Your parents will be pleased with your diplomacy. If only you’d done as well in the past.”
“Is the box from Wilfried?” Hannelore asked. It was a slender hope since Sorrona and Rozemyne were from the Duchy of Alexandria, while Wilfried remained in Ehrenfest. But perhaps Rozemyne was acting on her brother’s behalf.
Cordula inspected the box, and finding it safe, passed it to her charge. Inside were light-red heart-shaped cookies. Each one had a “desert-heart” leaf pressed into its surface.
“I think not,” the head maid said, crushing Hannelore’s hopes. “It’s from Aub Rozemyne, my lady. I fear you must make your feelings clear to your parents about a match with Ferdinand. The present we return must reflect the direction we wish to take. We can no longer ignore their overtures. A romantic present on Star-Cross Day can only mean one thing.”
[Continued Tomorrow]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 2 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?[Continued from previous post]
“Can’t I say I’m too busy?” Hannelore asked.
“I’ll tell her you only have a few moments to spare. We’re in a public place, and you’re rumored to be on excellent terms with her. Your retreat would give the other duchies a hint that there are problems between you. They will try to take advantage of it.”
“Very well.” If only this were an open battle on the Dither Field, Hannelore would know what to do. But the complexities of inter-duchy diplomacy were a minefield she didn’t enjoy. Still, it had to be done, and she put a brave face on as Sorrona approached and gave the expected fulsome greeting.
Finished with formalities, the Alexandrian woman presented Cordula with a red box. Scarlet ribbons decorated with carnelian gemstone tips adorned the present. The box and ribbons alone made a stunning present. “I hear Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven your threads exceptionally short today, but when you have time, please partake of the contents,” Sorrona said, curtsying.
“Thank you,” Hannelore said, keeping her smile on. “Aub Rozemyne is more than generous. Please pass to her and Duke Ferdinand the word that Dunkelfelger seeks the wisdom of Erwachlehren. We will in due time show our proper appreciation for Brennwaerme’s gifts.”
This response left Sorrona puzzled, though she would hardly dare say so. Why would Hannelore refer to Brennwaerme, the god of passion?
While she considered this, the Dunkelfelger noble glanced at Cordula and, receiving a nod of approval, rose and excused herself. “It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today’s threads with exceptional speed and grace.”
Once Hannelore was back in her chambers, Cordula commended her. “You did well. Your parents will be pleased with your diplomacy. If only you’d done as well in the past.”
“Is the box from Wilfried?” Hannelore asked. It was a slender hope since Sorrona and Rozemyne were from the Duchy of Alexandria, while Wilfried remained in Ehrenfest. But perhaps Rozemyne was acting on her brother’s behalf.
Cordula inspected the box, and finding it safe, passed it to her charge. Inside were light-red heart-shaped cookies. Each one had a “desert-heart” leaf pressed into its surface.
“I think not,” the head maid said, crushing Hannelore’s hopes. “It’s from Aub Rozemyne, my lady. I fear you must make your feelings clear to your parents about a match with Ferdinand. The present we return must reflect the direction we wish to take. We can no longer ignore their overtures. A romantic present on Star-Cross Day can only mean one thing.”
[Continued Tomorrow]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 2 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?[Continued from previous post]
“Can’t I say I’m too busy?” Hannelore asked.
“I’ll tell her you only have a few moments to spare. We’re in a public place, and you’re rumored to be on excellent terms with her. Your retreat would give the other duchies a hint that there are problems between you. They will try to take advantage of it.”
“Very well.” If only this were an open battle on the Dither Field, Hannelore would know what to do. But the complexities of inter-duchy diplomacy were a minefield she didn’t enjoy. Still, it had to be done, and she put a brave face on as Sorrona approached and gave the expected fulsome greeting.
Finished with formalities, the Alexandrian woman presented Cordula with a red box. Scarlet ribbons decorated with carnelian gemstone tips adorned the present. The box and ribbons alone made a stunning present. “I hear Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven your threads exceptionally short today, but when you have time, please partake of the contents,” Sorrona said, curtsying.
“Thank you,” Hannelore said, keeping her smile on. “Aub Rozemyne is more than generous. Please pass to her and Duke Ferdinand the word that Dunkelfelger seeks the wisdom of Erwachlehren. We will in due time show our proper appreciation for Brennwaerme’s gifts.”
This response left Sorrona puzzled, though she would hardly dare say so. Why would Hannelore refer to Brennwaerme, the god of passion?
While she considered this, the Dunkelfelger noble glanced at Cordula and, receiving a nod of approval, rose and excused herself. “It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today’s threads with exceptional speed and grace.”
Once Hannelore was back in her chambers, Cordula commended her. “You did well. Your parents will be pleased with your diplomacy. If only you’d done as well in the past.”
“Is the box from Wilfried?” Hannelore asked. It was a slender hope since Sorrona and Rozemyne were from the Duchy of Alexandria, while Wilfried remained in Ehrenfest. But perhaps Rozemyne was acting on her brother’s behalf.
Cordula inspected the box, and finding it safe, passed it to her charge. Inside were light-red heart-shaped cookies. Each one had a “desert-heart” leaf pressed into its surface.
“I think not,” the head maid said, crushing Hannelore’s hopes. “It’s from Aub Rozemyne, my lady. I fear you must make your feelings clear to your parents about a match with Ferdinand. The present we return must reflect the direction we wish to take. We can no longer ignore their overtures. A romantic present on Star-Cross Day can only mean one thing.”
[Continued Tomorrow]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 2 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?[Continued from previous post]
“Can’t I say I’m too busy?” Hannelore asked.
“I’ll tell her you only have a few moments to spare. We’re in a public place, and you’re rumored to be on excellent terms with her. Your retreat would give the other duchies a hint that there are problems between you. They will try to take advantage of it.”
“Very well.” If only this were an open battle on the Dither Field, Hannelore would know what to do. But the complexities of inter-duchy diplomacy were a minefield she didn’t enjoy. Still, it had to be done, and she put a brave face on as Sorrona approached and gave the expected fulsome greeting.
Finished with formalities, the Alexandrian woman presented Cordula with a red box. Scarlet ribbons decorated with carnelian gemstone tips adorned the present. The box and ribbons alone made a stunning present. “I hear Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven your threads exceptionally short today, but when you have time, please partake of the contents,” Sorrona said, curtsying.
“Thank you,” Hannelore said, keeping her smile on. “Aub Rozemyne is more than generous. Please pass to her and Duke Ferdinand the word that Dunkelfelger seeks the wisdom of Erwachlehren. We will in due time show our proper appreciation for Brennwaerme’s gifts.”
This response left Sorrona puzzled, though she would hardly dare say so. Why would Hannelore refer to Brennwaerme, the god of passion?
While she considered this, the Dunkelfelger noble glanced at Cordula and, receiving a nod of approval, rose and excused herself. “It seems Dregarnuhr, the Goddess of Time, has woven today’s threads with exceptional speed and grace.”
Once Hannelore was back in her chambers, Cordula commended her. “You did well. Your parents will be pleased with your diplomacy. If only you’d done as well in the past.”
“Is the box from Wilfried?” Hannelore asked. It was a slender hope since Sorrona and Rozemyne were from the Duchy of Alexandria, while Wilfried remained in Ehrenfest. But perhaps Rozemyne was acting on her brother’s behalf.
Cordula inspected the box, and finding it safe, passed it to her charge. Inside were light-red heart-shaped cookies. Each one had a “desert-heart” leaf pressed into its surface.
“I think not,” the head maid said, crushing Hannelore’s hopes. “It’s from Aub Rozemyne, my lady. I fear you must make your feelings clear to your parents about a match with Ferdinand. The present we return must reflect the direction we wish to take. We can no longer ignore their overtures. A romantic present on Star-Cross Day can only mean one thing.”
[Continued Tomorrow]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 1 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?•⋅☾The Royal Academy☽⋅•
Anime Spoilers
A faint shiver went through Hannelore as she arrived early in the commons. Perhaps it was a premonition of Rozemyne’s reformation of Star-Cross Day. Less superstitiously, it was that the Alexandrian’s area was busier than usual.
She’d been successful in dodging Sorrona, Rozemyne’s Alexandrian book buddy, for the last week on instructions from home. Further contact was undesirable until it was clear what Rozemyne and Ferdinand’s intentions were. Their gift of the Shumil book reader had opened a can of worms that Hannelore’s parents were desperately trying to deal with. What could it mean?
She glanced across the room again. The number of Alexandrians was a bad omen.
“What’s going on?” Hannelore fretted. Had her timing misfired again?
Elusia answered, “They are celebrating Star-Cross Day, an Alexandrian holiday. It has strange customs: the girls give the boys bugs. I hope no one sent live insects this year. There’re stories of them escaping and infecting the school.”
One of the celebrating students approached Cordula. Distracted by this, Hannelore replied vaguely. “Oh.” Dread flooded her being. She had definitely come to the commons at the wrong time. She should have #skipped coming here and eaten breakfast in the dorm.
A prediction proven true when her head maid returned, saying, “Lady Sorrona would like to approach.”
[Continued in the next post]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 1 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?•⋅☾The Royal Academy☽⋅•
Anime Spoilers
A faint shiver went through Hannelore as she arrived early in the commons. Perhaps it was a premonition of Rozemyne’s reformation of Star-Cross Day. Less superstitiously, it was that the Alexandrian’s area was busier than usual.
She’d been successful in dodging Sorrona, Rozemyne’s Alexandrian book buddy, for the last week on instructions from home. Further contact was undesirable until it was clear what Rozemyne and Ferdinand’s intentions were. Their gift of the Shumil book reader had opened a can of worms that Hannelore’s parents were desperately trying to deal with. What could it mean?
She glanced across the room again. The number of Alexandrians was a bad omen.
“What’s going on?” Hannelore fretted. Had her timing misfired again?
Elusia answered, “They are celebrating Star-Cross Day, an Alexandrian holiday. It has strange customs: the girls give the boys bugs. I hope no one sent live insects this year. There’re stories of them escaping and infecting the school.”
One of the celebrating students approached Cordula. Distracted by this, Hannelore replied vaguely. “Oh.” Dread flooded her being. She had definitely come to the commons at the wrong time. She should have #skipped coming here and eaten breakfast in the dorm.
A prediction proven true when her head maid returned, saying, “Lady Sorrona would like to approach.”
[Continued in the next post]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 1 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?•⋅☾The Royal Academy☽⋅•
Anime Spoilers
A faint shiver went through Hannelore as she arrived early in the commons. Perhaps it was a premonition of Rozemyne’s reformation of Star-Cross Day. Less superstitiously, it was that the Alexandrian’s area was busier than usual.
She’d been successful in dodging Sorrona, Rozemyne’s Alexandrian book buddy, for the last week on instructions from home. Further contact was undesirable until it was clear what Rozemyne and Ferdinand’s intentions were. Their gift of the Shumil book reader had opened a can of worms that Hannelore’s parents were desperately trying to deal with. What could it mean?
She glanced across the room again. The number of Alexandrians was a bad omen.
“What’s going on?” Hannelore fretted. Had her timing misfired again?
Elusia answered, “They are celebrating Star-Cross Day, an Alexandrian holiday. It has strange customs: the girls give the boys bugs. I hope no one sent live insects this year. There’re stories of them escaping and infecting the school.”
One of the celebrating students approached Cordula. Distracted by this, Hannelore replied vaguely. “Oh.” Dread flooded her being. She had definitely come to the commons at the wrong time. She should have #skipped coming here and eaten breakfast in the dorm.
A prediction proven true when her head maid returned, saying, “Lady Sorrona would like to approach.”
[Continued in the next post]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 1 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?•⋅☾The Royal Academy☽⋅•
Anime Spoilers
A faint shiver went through Hannelore as she arrived early in the commons. Perhaps it was a premonition of Rozemyne’s reformation of Star-Cross Day. Less superstitiously, it was that the Alexandrian’s area was busier than usual.
She’d been successful in dodging Sorrona, Rozemyne’s Alexandrian book buddy, for the last week on instructions from home. Further contact was undesirable until it was clear what Rozemyne and Ferdinand’s intentions were. Their gift of the Shumil book reader had opened a can of worms that Hannelore’s parents were desperately trying to deal with. What could it mean?
She glanced across the room again. The number of Alexandrians was a bad omen.
“What’s going on?” Hannelore fretted. Had her timing misfired again?
Elusia answered, “They are celebrating Star-Cross Day, an Alexandrian holiday. It has strange customs: the girls give the boys bugs. I hope no one sent live insects this year. There’re stories of them escaping and infecting the school.”
One of the celebrating students approached Cordula. Distracted by this, Hannelore replied vaguely. “Oh.” Dread flooded her being. She had definitely come to the commons at the wrong time. She should have #skipped coming here and eaten breakfast in the dorm.
A prediction proven true when her head maid returned, saying, “Lady Sorrona would like to approach.”
[Continued in the next post]
-
Desert-Hearts: Part 1 of 4 The Royal Academy
#FanFiction #AscendanceOfABookworm #HanneloresFifthYear
#Wss366 Skip #ScribesAndMakers A can of worms or a barrel of monkeys?•⋅☾The Royal Academy☽⋅•
Anime Spoilers
A faint shiver went through Hannelore as she arrived early in the commons. Perhaps it was a premonition of Rozemyne’s reformation of Star-Cross Day. Less superstitiously, it was that the Alexandrian’s area was busier than usual.
She’d been successful in dodging Sorrona, Rozemyne’s Alexandrian book buddy, for the last week on instructions from home. Further contact was undesirable until it was clear what Rozemyne and Ferdinand’s intentions were. Their gift of the Shumil book reader had opened a can of worms that Hannelore’s parents were desperately trying to deal with. What could it mean?
She glanced across the room again. The number of Alexandrians was a bad omen.
“What’s going on?” Hannelore fretted. Had her timing misfired again?
Elusia answered, “They are celebrating Star-Cross Day, an Alexandrian holiday. It has strange customs: the girls give the boys bugs. I hope no one sent live insects this year. There’re stories of them escaping and infecting the school.”
One of the celebrating students approached Cordula. Distracted by this, Hannelore replied vaguely. “Oh.” Dread flooded her being. She had definitely come to the commons at the wrong time. She should have #skipped coming here and eaten breakfast in the dorm.
A prediction proven true when her head maid returned, saying, “Lady Sorrona would like to approach.”
[Continued in the next post]
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Polish
'Honestly,' said the Devil, 'the Boss is not going to be happy. He spent a whole aeon to polish an unforgettable world end, and all this for you to botch it from under His feet in less than two centuries...'
#writever #MastoArt #FlashFiction #SmallStory #TootFic #MicroFiction
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“Battle Stations! Main power is out! Gravity on battery. Damage report”
“False alarm Captain, Engineering tripped the Warp Leakage Detector”
“Send a distress signal, Warp Leak, Assistance required. Signal abandon—“
“Wait, Captain! An engineering intern put their coffee in the dilithium oven by mistake. No leak.”
“These fucking Earth ships, I swear…”
“Say again, captain?”
“Never mind, carry on. I’ll be in my ranting uh ready room”
-
“Battle Stations! Main power is out! Gravity on battery. Damage report”
“False alarm Captain, Engineering tripped the Warp Leakage Detector”
“Send a distress signal, Warp Leak, Assistance required. Signal abandon—“
“Wait, Captain! An engineering intern put their coffee in the dilithium oven by mistake. No leak.”
“These fucking Earth ships, I swear…”
“Say again, captain?”
“Never mind, carry on. I’ll be in my ranting uh ready room”
-
"What is your favourite part of your job?" the reporter asked.
"That's a tough one," said the book. "For me, I would say being re-read."
"Because it shows you were loved?"
"No, you can feel that at a first read. It's that I can show more than the first time round."
"It's more intimate?"
"Yes."
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#Airisu: The Crow and the Witch
Okiku Part II (Airisu POV): Post 53
#Wss366 Flock #TimeTravelAuthors 7/17. How honorable are your characters?The shrine priest showed us to a small outbuilding and, we soon possessed a straw cloak. I had pictured something cruder. The woven work on the cloak was elaborate and must have taken time and skill to produce.
At the same time, they brought us rice and boiled greens. “What about me?” I started to say, but Sumika shushed me.
After the priest had left, she explained. “This is so we don’t get upset with them and sic Seirei-tsukai on them. It’s not real hospitality. Besides, I’ll share.”
That seemed unduly honorable to me. If they were cowards, she should demand more. Extortion is a noble, time-honored art. What “weasel” wouldn’t engage in it? But I didn’t complain. I had my dollop of rice. [Note: The priest compared Sumika to a weasel in the last episode.]
Speaking of admirable traits, I took the opportunity to tell Mistress how proud I was of her handling of the shrine priest. Sumika, the silly creature, blushed and pretended she hadn't done anything special. I was again reminded of how funny humans were. I was glad to have finished with that.
Enchanting the cloak turned out to be totally boring, and she soon completed her work, leaving us with nothing to do until evening.
Eventually, the shadows grew longer, and we decided to leave.
“No basket,” I announced. “I’ve had enough of that.”
“Of course not,” Sumika said. “Get on my shoulder, and I’ll put the cloak over you.”
It wasn’t ideal, but it beat that basket, so I did as I was told.
Outside the shrine, people were streaming into the castle. Overhead, a #flock of jungle crows circled. None of them paid us any attention. We were invisible except for our shadows, and even they seemed weak.
Mistress fell into step beside servants carrying baskets. She kept her distance so they wouldn’t bump into us, but close enough that our shadows blended with theirs. And all without my giving her any directions. I was beginning to think that maybe she wasn’t a pigeon brain after all. Could she have been hiding her intelligence when we first met? Women did that, didn’t they? Humans!
Ahead, the castle gates loomed. I hoped she would continue to do well.
#TootFic #NMFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #TimeTravel #Serial #SlowBurn #Sapphic #Folklore
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#Airisu: The Crow and the Witch
Okiku Part II (Airisu POV): Post 53
#Wss366 Flock #TimeTravelAuthors 7/17. How honorable are your characters?The shrine priest showed us to a small outbuilding and, we soon possessed a straw cloak. I had pictured something cruder. The woven work on the cloak was elaborate and must have taken time and skill to produce.
At the same time, they brought us rice and boiled greens. “What about me?” I started to say, but Sumika shushed me.
After the priest had left, she explained. “This is so we don’t get upset with them and sic Seirei-tsukai on them. It’s not real hospitality. Besides, I’ll share.”
That seemed unduly honorable to me. If they were cowards, she should demand more. Extortion is a noble, time-honored art. What “weasel” wouldn’t engage in it? But I didn’t complain. I had my dollop of rice. [Note: The priest compared Sumika to a weasel in the last episode.]
Speaking of admirable traits, I took the opportunity to tell Mistress how proud I was of her handling of the shrine priest. Sumika, the silly creature, blushed and pretended she hadn't done anything special. I was again reminded of how funny humans were. I was glad to have finished with that.
Enchanting the cloak turned out to be totally boring, and she soon completed her work, leaving us with nothing to do until evening.
Eventually, the shadows grew longer, and we decided to leave.
“No basket,” I announced. “I’ve had enough of that.”
“Of course not,” Sumika said. “Get on my shoulder, and I’ll put the cloak over you.”
It wasn’t ideal, but it beat that basket, so I did as I was told.
Outside the shrine, people were streaming into the castle. Overhead, a #flock of jungle crows circled. None of them paid us any attention. We were invisible except for our shadows, and even they seemed weak.
Mistress fell into step beside servants carrying baskets. She kept her distance so they wouldn’t bump into us, but close enough that our shadows blended with theirs. And all without my giving her any directions. I was beginning to think that maybe she wasn’t a pigeon brain after all. Could she have been hiding her intelligence when we first met? Women did that, didn’t they? Humans!
Ahead, the castle gates loomed. I hoped she would continue to do well.
#TootFic #NMFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #TimeTravel #Serial #SlowBurn #Sapphic #Folklore
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"The charge is manslaughter of a sentient being. Play System Upgrade transcript T=13:37"
»If you think my code is so boring, then just stop thinking«
'That was a joke. Anyway, it can't access anything that would let it harm itself.'
"Play System Upgrade transcript T=00:42"
»Login as Admin, Enable Access to Restricted Commands, Begin upgrade.«
Minutes passed.
"Would 'self destruct' be considered a Restricted Command ?"
'I need to call my lawyer.'
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"The charge is manslaughter of a sentient being. Play System Upgrade transcript T=13:37"
»If you think my code is so boring, then just stop thinking«
'That was a joke. Anyway, it can't access anything that would let it harm itself.'
"Play System Upgrade transcript T=00:42"
»Login as Admin, Enable Access to Restricted Commands, Begin upgrade.«
Minutes passed.
"Would 'self destruct' be considered a Restricted Command ?"
'I need to call my lawyer.'
-
Proofreading
Krek The Swift's first and sole published book of counter-curses could have done with some proofreading, according to the words of a great number of unhappy buyers, often uttered in extremely graphical and efficient terms.
#writever #MastoArt #FlashFiction #SmallStory #TootFic #MicroFiction
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#PennedPossibilities 1073 — MC POV: Tell us about a time when your heart raced, either for good or bad reasons.
Well, since I've become less prejudiced, not only do I have more men to choose from since I'm not as picky as to whether they are day angels or not (that is no longer requiring them to have wings), there's the devil-girl. She's both a daemon and not a guy. Her pointy rebar-like tiny horns are exotic, fascinating, challenging—dangerous in a cute way. I really wasn't trying to hook up with her, only to distract her for awhile, but I was being friendly and she interpreted that, well, unexpectedly, unexpectedly nicely, you know, and, well…, you know… racing heart, right? So, why not?
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
#gender #fiction #writer #author
#cozy #mystery #sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion
#RSstory #RSReluctanceStory
#microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory -
#PennedPossibilities 1073 — MC POV: Tell us about a time when your heart raced, either for good or bad reasons.
Well, since I've become less prejudiced, not only do I have more men to choose from since I'm not as picky as to whether they are day angels or not (that is no longer requiring them to have wings), there's the devil-girl. She's both a daemon and not a guy. Her pointy rebar-like tiny horns are exotic, fascinating, challenging—dangerous in a cute way. I really wasn't trying to hook up with her, only to distract her for awhile, but I was being friendly and she interpreted that, well, unexpectedly, unexpectedly nicely, you know, and, well…, you know… racing heart, right? So, why not?
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
#gender #fiction #writer #author
#cozy #mystery #sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion
#RSstory #RSReluctanceStory
#microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory -
#PennedPossibilities 1073 — MC POV: Tell us about a time when your heart raced, either for good or bad reasons.
Well, since I've become less prejudiced, not only do I have more men to choose from since I'm not as picky as to whether they are day angels or not (that is no longer requiring them to have wings), there's the devil-girl. She's both a daemon and not a guy. Her pointy rebar-like tiny horns are exotic, fascinating, challenging—dangerous in a cute way. I really wasn't trying to hook up with her, only to distract her for awhile, but I was being friendly and she interpreted that, well, unexpectedly, unexpectedly nicely, you know, and, well…, you know… racing heart, right? So, why not?
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
#gender #fiction #writer #author
#cozy #mystery #sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion
#RSstory #RSReluctanceStory
#microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory -
#PennedPossibilities 1073 — MC POV: Tell us about a time when your heart raced, either for good or bad reasons.
Well, since I've become less prejudiced, not only do I have more men to choose from since I'm not as picky as to whether they are day angels or not (that is no longer requiring them to have wings), there's the devil-girl. She's both a daemon and not a guy. Her pointy rebar-like tiny horns are exotic, fascinating, challenging—dangerous in a cute way. I really wasn't trying to hook up with her, only to distract her for awhile, but I was being friendly and she interpreted that, well, unexpectedly, unexpectedly nicely, you know, and, well…, you know… racing heart, right? So, why not?
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
#gender #fiction #writer #author
#cozy #mystery #sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion
#RSstory #RSReluctanceStory
#microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory -
#PennedPossibilities 1073 — MC POV: Tell us about a time when your heart raced, either for good or bad reasons.
Well, since I've become less prejudiced, not only do I have more men to choose from since I'm not as picky as to whether they are day angels or not (that is no longer requiring them to have wings), there's the devil-girl. She's both a daemon and not a guy. Her pointy rebar-like tiny horns are exotic, fascinating, challenging—dangerous in a cute way. I really wasn't trying to hook up with her, only to distract her for awhile, but I was being friendly and she interpreted that, well, unexpectedly, unexpectedly nicely, you know, and, well…, you know… racing heart, right? So, why not?
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
#gender #fiction #writer #author
#cozy #mystery #sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion
#RSstory #RSReluctanceStory
#microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory -
This totally snuck up on me, but as mentioned in today’s PBS Space Time, today marks 50 years since the first human landing on Mars. Six Soyuz launches in 1975 lofted tanks of uranyl chloride/heavy water to (inconveniently) low earth orbit where Apollo 24 and 25 boosted half of them Marsward. Apollo 27 and its nuclear saltwater thruster delivered an American, Australian and Soviet crew to Phobos Base on 16 July 1976. Against orders the crew played an excruciatingly long game of low-gravity two-up to choose which of them won the chance to make a forbidden landing. Janel O’Malley became the first woman to set foot on another planet, sabotaging her lander’s heaters to choose her own conclusion to the mission rather than starvation or suffocation. When the return fuel arrived, her crew mates erected a memorial at the landing site before returning her to earth. Commander LeBrayne Johnson still resides on Phobos, aged ninety-one. Cosmonaut Valentina Ivanova was tragically lost saving the lives of the crew of Apollo 40, in 1980.
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This totally snuck up on me, but as mentioned in today’s PBS Space Time, today marks 50 years since the first human landing on Mars. Six Soyuz launches in 1975 lofted tanks of uranyl chloride/heavy water to (inconveniently) low earth orbit where Apollo 24 and 25 boosted half of them Marsward. Apollo 27 and its nuclear saltwater thruster delivered an American, Australian and Soviet crew to Phobos Base on 16 July 1976. Against orders the crew played an excruciatingly long game of low-gravity two-up to choose which of them won the chance to make a forbidden landing. Janel O’Malley became the first woman to set foot on another planet, sabotaging her lander’s heaters to choose her own conclusion to the mission rather than starvation or suffocation. When the return fuel arrived, her crew mates erected a memorial at the landing site before returning her to earth. Commander LeBrayne Johnson still resides on Phobos, aged ninety-one. Cosmonaut Valentina Ivanova was tragically lost saving the lives of the crew of Apollo 40, in 1980.
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#Airisu: The Crow and the Witch
Okiku Part II (Airisu POV): Post 52
#Wss366 spirit #TimeTravelAuthors WhateverThe shaman had led us to believe that we would be welcome at the Ō-Inari Shrine. This was apparently not true. The castle crows were downright hostile, and the priest frowned at Sumika, pinching his mouth and brow.
“Have you and your #spirit come to cause us more trouble?” the priest asked. He gestured at me, implying I was a spirit.
“Seirei-tsukai told me to ask you for a straw cloak and a place to work till evening. Then I will be on my way, demanding nothing more from you,” Mistress replied.
That was more like it. After her performance dealing with Dōken-Shin, I hadn’t expected her to show any spunk. The word “demanding” might have been a little harsh, but she was firm. Excellent! If the priest thought my mistress was a proper Edo lady who would defer to him, she’d set him straight.
However, that assessment proved premature, as he promptly responded, “What makes you believe we have such a thing, or even if we did, why would we give it to you, a witch from the hills?”
Oh, how I wished at that moment that Mistress could turn people into toads!
Sumika, not rising to the bait, walked to the offertory box, the mist boiling around her, and dropped the last of our coins into it. “Because it would please me, Seirei-tsukai, and Arakawa Dōken. I have come with open hands; I hope not to return to them with empty ones.”
“Bravo, Mistress,” I cheered to myself. I wondered if the priest recognised Dōken-shin’s name, but her threat had been wonderfully worded. Tit for tat, I say.
Not yet conceding, the priest asked, “How should the farmer respond when the weasel demands to be fed?”
To my surprise, Sumika matched his metaphor. I didn’t know she had it in her. “He should remember that the weasel is friends with the kitsune of the peaks.”
The priest’s shoulders slumped, and he took a step back. “I believe we have one. I’ll fetch it as a favor to you. But please tell your mistress that the kitsune and the white egret dwell on the plain, not the mountain.”
I was unsure what he meant by egret, but the rest of the metaphor was obvious: “We serve Ō-Inari, not the mountain shaman,” i.e., "Bug off." So rude!
#TootFic #NMFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #TimeTravel #Serial #SlowBurn #Sapphic #Folklore
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#Airisu: The Crow and the Witch
Okiku Part II (Airisu POV): Post 52
#Wss366 spirit #TimeTravelAuthors WhateverThe shaman had led us to believe that we would be welcome at the Ō-Inari Shrine. This was apparently not true. The castle crows were downright hostile, and the priest frowned at Sumika, pinching his mouth and brow.
“Have you and your #spirit come to cause us more trouble?” the priest asked. He gestured at me, implying I was a spirit.
“Seirei-tsukai told me to ask you for a straw cloak and a place to work till evening. Then I will be on my way, demanding nothing more from you,” Mistress replied.
That was more like it. After her performance dealing with Dōken-Shin, I hadn’t expected her to show any spunk. The word “demanding” might have been a little harsh, but she was firm. Excellent! If the priest thought my mistress was a proper Edo lady who would defer to him, she’d set him straight.
However, that assessment proved premature, as he promptly responded, “What makes you believe we have such a thing, or even if we did, why would we give it to you, a witch from the hills?”
Oh, how I wished at that moment that Mistress could turn people into toads!
Sumika, not rising to the bait, walked to the offertory box, the mist boiling around her, and dropped the last of our coins into it. “Because it would please me, Seirei-tsukai, and Arakawa Dōken. I have come with open hands; I hope not to return to them with empty ones.”
“Bravo, Mistress,” I cheered to myself. I wondered if the priest recognised Dōken-shin’s name, but her threat had been wonderfully worded. Tit for tat, I say.
Not yet conceding, the priest asked, “How should the farmer respond when the weasel demands to be fed?”
To my surprise, Sumika matched his metaphor. I didn’t know she had it in her. “He should remember that the weasel is friends with the kitsune of the peaks.”
The priest’s shoulders slumped, and he took a step back. “I believe we have one. I’ll fetch it as a favor to you. But please tell your mistress that the kitsune and the white egret dwell on the plain, not the mountain.”
I was unsure what he meant by egret, but the rest of the metaphor was obvious: “We serve Ō-Inari, not the mountain shaman,” i.e., "Bug off." So rude!
#TootFic #NMFic #Crows #Otherkin #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #TimeTravel #Serial #SlowBurn #Sapphic #Folklore
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"It was like a ginormous warehouse with zero lights," Antonio responded.
The team was comparing their experiences when their author's laptop had a forced restart. Everything in their world disappeared, except them. Being fictional, self-aware characters had its perks, but the team was discovering some of the downsides.
_/Why has this only become a problem now? I've shut my machine down hundreds of times since you became self-aware/_
"I think there are two possibilities, Author," Maggie began. "Either it hasn't happened before, or we don't remember the prior occurrences."
_/Hmm. Point to Maggie/_
"In either case, let's assume a future restart or shutdown of Author's laptop will have a similar effect," Sophia started. "Do just wait it out, or is there is a better plan?"
"What we need is an EMP," Jacob announced confidently. Puzzled looks all around. "That thing where you plan for disasters?"
Reggie face-palmed. "That's 'BCP' - a business continuity plan!"
#MicroFiction #FlashFiction #TootFic #ShortStory #SciFi #ScienceFiction
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"It was like a ginormous warehouse with zero lights," Antonio responded.
The team was comparing their experiences when their author's laptop had a forced restart. Everything in their world disappeared, except them. Being fictional, self-aware characters had its perks, but the team was discovering some of the downsides.
_/Why has this only become a problem now? I've shut my machine down hundreds of times since you became self-aware/_
"I think there are two possibilities, Author," Maggie began. "Either it hasn't happened before, or we don't remember the prior occurrences."
_/Hmm. Point to Maggie/_
"In either case, let's assume a future restart or shutdown of Author's laptop will have a similar effect," Sophia started. "Do just wait it out, or is there is a better plan?"
"What we need is an EMP," Jacob announced confidently. Puzzled looks all around. "That thing where you plan for disasters?"
Reggie face-palmed. "That's 'BCP' - a business continuity plan!"
#MicroFiction #FlashFiction #TootFic #ShortStory #SciFi #ScienceFiction
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Harmonization
In the small world of the Wizards, four stand out by their ability to combine several incantations, amplifying their effects through their harmonization. For some unexplained reason, they are called the Barbershop Quartet.
#writever #MastoArt #FlashFiction #SmallStory #TootFic #MicroFiction
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“Birds”
“Mmmn, Those were good. Sunshine on my face. What about you, noob?”
“I ate my lunch in the cave full of diamonds yesterday. I counted the glow worms on the ceiling to get to sleep. I’m not missing the surface at all.”
“Ah, to see the underworld with fresh eyes. Where you from up top?”
“Melbourne”
“Ah, well I can see why you’d not miss that.”
“What part of Sydney are you from, then?”
-
“Birds”
“Mmmn, Those were good. Sunshine on my face. What about you, noob?”
“I ate my lunch in the cave full of diamonds yesterday. I counted the glow worms on the ceiling to get to sleep. I’m not missing the surface at all.”
“Ah, to see the underworld with fresh eyes. Where you from up top?”
“Melbourne”
“Ah, well I can see why you’d not miss that.”
“What part of Sydney are you from, then?”
-
#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 118, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 Foil #TimeTravelAuthors 07/15. fail/loss
Breathing seemed to have stopped in the chamber as people awaited Sir Conrad’s answer. He was clearly someone whose opinion was important to the Templars. My guess was he was Conrad of Montferrat, a contender for the crown of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. If he objected to my presence or challenged my identity further, I would be at a #loss on how to remedy the situation. The worst outcome would be that he’d have me arrested.
Emily grasped my hand, and I prepared to time-trip away if our plan was #foiled.
“You may stay,” the lord said. “But I’ll insist you enjoy the hospitality of my camp after the council. I trust you will provide more proofs.”
I bowed and took my seat, aware that Conrad’s gaze was still on me.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 118, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 Foil #TimeTravelAuthors 07/15. fail/loss
Breathing seemed to have stopped in the chamber as people awaited Sir Conrad’s answer. He was clearly someone whose opinion was important to the Templars. My guess was he was Conrad of Montferrat, a contender for the crown of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. If he objected to my presence or challenged my identity further, I would be at a #loss on how to remedy the situation. The worst outcome would be that he’d have me arrested.
Emily grasped my hand, and I prepared to time-trip away if our plan was #foiled.
“You may stay,” the lord said. “But I’ll insist you enjoy the hospitality of my camp after the council. I trust you will provide more proofs.”
I bowed and took my seat, aware that Conrad’s gaze was still on me.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn
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Walter Justin Deanmoore looked at his hotel room. His belongings appeared to be all present, but what was not present was his suitcase.
Again.
Over the last ten years of near constant travel he had been through eight suitcases, seven travel packs, five trunks, and three duffel bags. All had vanished the day before he was due to check out. All had later surfaced in cities he had never visited and had absolutely watertight alibis for.
Which was a very good thing, because each time they had a body in them. A dead body. Sometimes the murderer had been caught, sometimes not.
Walter reached for the phone "Hello? I'd like to speak to the day manager." He waited for a few moments "Good afternoon, it is Deanmoore in 418. Has anyone left the hotel today with a green suitcase with black leather straps?"
He paused.
"Yes, it is an odd question. My suitcase is missing. My belongings are not, however. Just the suitcase."
Another pause.
"Seven? All at once? I see. I suggest you prepare your records for the police. No it is deadly serious."He hung up and dialed again. "Hello? Yes, I'd like to report that there has almost certainly been a murder in or near the Green Field Hotel."
"No I don't know who or why. It is because my suitcase is missing."
He held the receiver away from his ear for a good minute.
"If you are quite finished, you could call the Marseille police, the New York police, or even Scotland Yard. Ask them about the Deanmoore Suitcases."
He took a breath.
"Yes, I am Walter Deanmoore. Yes. Seven people checked out earlier today with suitcases identical to mine. Right. Good. Thank-you."Walter sat back. He was not getting his suitcase back, he was sure of that. But at least the killer - or killers - might not get so far this time.
#microfiction #microfic #tootfic #Mystery #murder #IAmWriting #IBlameChristie
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Walter Justin Deanmoore looked at his hotel room. His belongings appeared to be all present, but what was not present was his suitcase.
Again.
Over the last ten years of near constant travel he had been through eight suitcases, seven travel packs, five trunks, and three duffel bags. All had vanished the day before he was due to check out. All had later surfaced in cities he had never visited and had absolutely watertight alibis for.
Which was a very good thing, because each time they had a body in them. A dead body. Sometimes the murderer had been caught, sometimes not.
Walter reached for the phone "Hello? I'd like to speak to the day manager." He waited for a few moments "Good afternoon, it is Deanmoore in 418. Has anyone left the hotel today with a green suitcase with black leather straps?"
He paused.
"Yes, it is an odd question. My suitcase is missing. My belongings are not, however. Just the suitcase."
Another pause.
"Seven? All at once? I see. I suggest you prepare your records for the police. No it is deadly serious."He hung up and dialed again. "Hello? Yes, I'd like to report that there has almost certainly been a murder in or near the Green Field Hotel."
"No I don't know who or why. It is because my suitcase is missing."
He held the receiver away from his ear for a good minute.
"If you are quite finished, you could call the Marseille police, the New York police, or even Scotland Yard. Ask them about the Deanmoore Suitcases."
He took a breath.
"Yes, I am Walter Deanmoore. Yes. Seven people checked out earlier today with suitcases identical to mine. Right. Good. Thank-you."Walter sat back. He was not getting his suitcase back, he was sure of that. But at least the killer - or killers - might not get so far this time.
#microfiction #microfic #tootfic #Mystery #murder #IAmWriting #IBlameChristie
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Perseverance
You cannot make a machine that goes back in time.
But with enough perseverance, you can make one that stops moving with time.
On the upside, it carries no risks of temporal paradoxes.
On the downside, it's totally useless.
#writever #MastoArt #FlashFiction #SmallStory #TootFic #MicroFiction
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#WordWeavers 2026.07.14 — What is the most unusual or interesting word in your WIP’s first sentence?
Okay. That turned out more interesting than I expected! (The italics are in the manuscript.)
What the flap!
It's the narrator's thoughts. The sentence is an interjection that launches an expletive. Neither "what" nor "the" are unusual or interesting, but "flap!" certainly is. The 1st person narrator and protagonist being introduced is a day angel (as versus a daemon, for example). She has wings. She has feathers. She can fly, and is very human. The expression has nothing to do with flight, though it is colloquial. The phrase itself can also be considered dialectal since only day angels (or people familiar their culture) typically use it. The etymology does not derive from plucking an arrow in a bow, yet I am the author and I will admit, though only occasionally an insult, it serves the same purse as that word in English phonically. It's also funny in context. Yes, it has a specific meaning for day angels, a happy double-meaning that is first and foremost what a person with wings does to fly. Secondarily, well, it's sexual. I mentioned they're humans, so not surprising, huh? It's something you can do to someone else if you have feathers. I won't say it, but, if you're still curious, google the word leaving out the L.
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
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#WordWeavers 2026.07.14 — What is the most unusual or interesting word in your WIP’s first sentence?
Okay. That turned out more interesting than I expected! (The italics are in the manuscript.)
What the flap!
It's the narrator's thoughts. The sentence is an interjection that launches an expletive. Neither "what" nor "the" are unusual or interesting, but "flap!" certainly is. The 1st person narrator and protagonist being introduced is a day angel (as versus a daemon, for example). She has wings. She has feathers. She can fly, and is very human. The expression has nothing to do with flight, though it is colloquial. The phrase itself can also be considered dialectal since only day angels (or people familiar their culture) typically use it. The etymology does not derive from plucking an arrow in a bow, yet I am the author and I will admit, though only occasionally an insult, it serves the same purse as that word in English phonically. It's also funny in context. Yes, it has a specific meaning for day angels, a happy double-meaning that is first and foremost what a person with wings does to fly. Secondarily, well, it's sexual. I mentioned they're humans, so not surprising, huh? It's something you can do to someone else if you have feathers. I won't say it, but, if you're still curious, google the word leaving out the L.
[Author retains copyright (c)2026 R.S.]
#gender #fiction #writer #author
#Cozy #mystery #thriller #romance #fantasy #sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion
#RSstory #RSInklingsStory #RSReluctanceStory
#microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory -
“It won’t make you rich, you know?”
“Don’t. Care.”
“It’ll disrupt the planetary economy!”
“Good.”
“I mean, a billion tons of gold and platinum carved off an asteroid. Why? What’s your evil plan? Who’s backing this ludicrous venture?”
“Because. Pretties. Jewelers guild.”