Tag Archive | prompter: mb

Teaching the Geometry (of Life) – a Patreon story

originally posted Jun 14, 2018 on Patreon

Mr. Reginato had been teaching 10th-grade advanced mathematics for a very long time.  A very, very long time, but the old paper records were long since gone and, since students enjoyed his class, he didn’t seem to be a line-item on the pension fund, and the school’s test scores in mathematics grade 10 and above had always been superb – or at least as long as people knew Mr. Reginato had been there – nobody was going to talk to him about retiring.

As a matter of fact, they were paying him, it appeared, approximately $100 a year, which absolutely couldn’t be correct, but that was the number that the accountant had in her files, and nobody really wanted to ask her any questions either. Continue reading

Loss

Originally posted on Patreon in May 2018 and part of the Great Patreon Crossposting to WordPress.
This story comes after “Securing One’s Own Legacy” and is a tale of Zenobia.  Warning: it covers grief and loss. 

Zenobia looked good in black.  And she was in no position to appreciate it.
She was actually mourning the man, although she doubted anyone in her family would believe that.

Lewis had been a sweet man, a patient man, and willing to do just about anything to keep his family off of his back, which had included a sweet but entirely sham marriage to Zenobia – a marriage he had, in the weeks before his death, explained to their pastor exactly how sham it was. Continue reading

Shadows in the Old Park -a story for Patreon

This went a little left turn from where I’d planned. 

I was picturing Sprucewood Nature Center, by the by, even though it’s not quite… wood-y enough. 

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The twenty-acre forest had become thick and overgrown in the decade since the world had fallen apart.

Vic remembered it from elementary school field trips, middle school solo explorations, high school one-on-one adventures with just the right second person – or at least the person that had seemed right at the time.  Several persons, several times.

Now, you couldn’t step between the trees except at the path, and the path had been blocked with a parked truck.  It looked safe.  It looked like a good place to hide out.Vic used the back wheel as a step-stool to look over the beast of a vehicle, only to end up looking at the tip of a rifle. Continue reading

Followed, Anticipated- a story of Fae Apoc for Patreon

If you are new to my Fae Apoc setting, Kai(lani) and Rozen are from my Addergoole series.

This story takes place 50 years past the original story, nearly 40 years after the apocalypse, after the Retirement stories.

Short summary: Rozen, a “big bad wolf” in school at Addergoole, managed to finally piss off Regine, the school’s Director, enough that she mind-controlled him into a Belonging (magical slavery; “Keeping”) and shipped him, literally, to Kailani, her protege, ignorant of or uncaring about the romantic/sexual/violent tension that had existed between those two in school. 

Since Kai was growing too old to pretend to be human in her current locale, she chose to go on the road with her new, somewhat violent, companion. 

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Kailani and Rozen were being followed.

Not exactly followed — more like followed-in-front-of — and not by a person or people.  Rozen would have been able to deal with people.

(If he was allowed to, of course.  He had no physical collar, because in the places they were travelling, sometimes having a collared person with her would get Kai killed and sometimes it would get him killed and, either way, it was a dangerous luxury.  He wondered sometimes if having a physical collar would have helped him get used to the uncomfortable feeling of being on a leash. )

They were being anticipated by rumor and legend, and Rozen didn’t like what they were saying.

He was Masked, of course, and Kai’s disguise was to go back to the way she’d looked at sixteen and seventeen, fresh-faced and not that much like the aging Dean Storm.  So when people told them about the midnight-skinned man with white hair and red eyes, he was pretty sure they weren’t seeing his middling-brown skin, hair, and eyes and thinking they were talking about him.

“I swear, Kai, I’ve never been through that town before.”  She was frowning, had been frowning since they left the town — in more of a hurry than they normally did, almost enough to bring attention to themselves. “Any of these towns we’ve been through.  I—”  He shifted.  “I stuck to the northwest and, uh, the Lakes, you know that.” Continue reading

To the Garden – a story for Patreon

After The Gardener and The Garden. Set in the midst of the Faerie Apocalypse that gives that setting its name. 

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The would-be gods came and went, and Damkina gardened.

She had not known, when she was younger, how much damage fighting caused.  The last time the gods had been here, she, too, had fought, to hold them off to banish them.

This time she did not fight.  She stood by her apprentice’s side and, with the people of the city, she built a garden.

Her boss – her former boss, she supposed, but better to think “once and future” – directed salvage teams to things that ought to be saved.  A CEO of a famous business was helping to rearrange housing so that all those refugees who asked for a place could be given it.

Today, as almost every day since they had first held off a would-be godling, a small crowd of people followed her, chanting as she had taught them.  Today, as she did every day, she had taken an hour with the strongest voices to show them how to shape the trees and plants to their wishes and not her own.

“Tempero Huamu, Qorawiyay Huamu, Aistrigh Huamu, Quipia Huamu, as Dam-kina Wishes.” Continue reading

Be Careful What… a story for Patreon

Okay, this didn’t turn out very HAPPY, but I like it. 

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“The strands don’t work by logic, Edwin.”  His mother gave him that slightly exasperated smile that she had given him so many times it must be automatic, like saying “bless you” when someone sneezed or “you too” when they wished you a good day.  “They work by feelings and by intuition, and if you attempt to apply too much logic to them, like any emotion, they’re going to slide away from you.”

“There have to be rules,” he protested, although he knew it was a waste of time.  “There has to be some pattern, some way that explains how things work.”

“They work by connections.  How does your connection to your aunt work, or to you best buddy?  They just work, Edwin.  I’m sorry, but it’s the way it is.”

The way it is.  He made his escape when she was done lecturing him and hid in his room.  There had to be a way.  He’d found a book buried in the back of the family library, the sort of thing that nobody ever read, and inside a very boring cover had found descriptions of magic. Continue reading