Tag Archive | prompter: rix

Outta the Woods Yet?

The big cat had been chasing Pren for heart-rending minutes when she managed to skid into a cave she’d never seen before.  She shimmied through a hole that was barely big enough for her and scooted up into a little ledge area. The cat might wait for hours for her, so she made herself comfortably before she pulled out the flint and steel and lit her torch.

The walls of the cave glittered and shone the way that sometimes a small piece of rock would.  The whole area was smooth, rounded, like she had scooted up from the cave into something even less natural than her tree-house.

On the far side of the room was a lever.  Pren looked at the lever. At least, it was a stick poking out of the wall at an angle.  Her mother had shown her how to use things like that to set traps for animals, when she had been small.  When her mother had been around. It might dump her into a net or drop something on her, although both the floor and ceiling looked sturdy enough in the torchlight.  It might drop something on the cat.

The cat was trying to get up the hole she had slipped through.  One clawed paw batted upwards, bigger than Pren’s foot.

She scooted backwards and pulled the lever.  Even a trap was better than being eaten by a cat.

She fell backwards as the wall opened up, into a brightly and smooth room full of strangers and shining lights.

Continue reading

Present

a story for my New Year’s Prompt Call, which you should go prompt at please, here.

Warning… a wee bit maudlin. 

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The snow had finally melted.  It had been a long winter – slow-starting but then dumping buckets of snow on us all of February and March and most of April.

It was May 5th, and I could finally see all of the grass, or at least the parts that had survived.  I could see, too, my poor bushes, which had not done well but which were, now, trying to put out the buds they normally would have put out in early March.  Continue reading

What’s in the Garden?

Written to Rix-Scaedu’s prompt to my new “WTF?” Prompt Call.  This is definitely a Science! story, complete with the Boss – Liam – and his plucky second-in-command. 

The raid had taken down three scientists working outside the bounds of the law, morality, or common sense, along with seven “assistants”, mostly grad students, who would probably not be charged, as having to find another research position might be punishment enough for anyone.

It had also found several references to “the farm office,” which, once the proper grad student was interrogated, appeared to be an old veterinary clinic sitting in a small farm town half an hour outside the city.

Liam, who had no official government or law-enforcement position, and Cara, who was, on paper, at least, his second-in-command, were along on both trips.  Liam had already recruited the most sensible of the scientists (along with hiring her a lawyer) and the three grad students Cara had hand-picked. Now – now they got to see what the farm office was. Continue reading

Beholden

To an anonymous Leopard (Rix’s) prompt during my Live Writing Wednesday.  I hope I got the prompt right, since I lost it in a chat delete. 

Fae Apoc, probably early post-apoc

🧚🏽

“I owe you one.”

If there were words Uršula less wanted to be saying, she couldn’t think of them.

“Yep, you do.” Continue reading

Turning Leaves

Written to rix_scaedus prompt.  

🍁

The leaves were turning wrong.

When you lived in a wooded area for a while, you got so you could feel the rhythm of autumn. The leaves closest to the road, closest to the prevailing wind, closest to anything that chilled them down, turned first.  The biggest trees turned slower.  The middle of the woods turned slow and last.

But in the forest behind Erato’s house, there was an almost circular place where the leaves had starting turning quickly, almost before the little maple that faced the wind all alone to the west of her house.   Continue reading

Dating Things – a story of Tootplanets for Patreon

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The spellbook had been one of the best finds on the planet they had poetically called 17-5-12.

The original population had been something very close to humanoid, as far as the drawings, the records, and the shapes of the buildings showed.  They had left behind stacks and stacks of ephemera, all of it on linen-esque paper-fabric, much of it rolled into scrolls, slide into cases, and sealed into vaults.

At least: much of what survived had been treated such.  They’d found a lot of scraps here and there, pieces stuffed into nests of the local rodents and the local avians, pieces stapled to walls by what they assumed were the last survivors. Continue reading

Summer Vacation, a vignette of Jamian et al for Patreon

Part of my continual crosspost/mirroring project

Set some years after the apocalypse. Jamian is a character from my first webserial, Addergoole.  Miryam came from Addergoole: Year 9.  This is just a little bit of them on a beach, to Rix’s prompt and Wyste and B’s choice of characters.  Oh, and Cay and Vi are also from Addergoole.  Arna has most of her mentions in Addergoole: a Ghost Story but also comes up  in Year Nine

🏖️

Jamian still loved the idea of summer vacation.  The world had more or less fallen down around their ears; the resort towns were all boarded up, fallen down, or walled off into compounds; there was no office job to take a vacation from, no school to get the kids out of, and his kids were all out of the nest anyway.  But he still would take a week and just walk down to a beach somewhere to dip his feet in the water, while Cay and Vi laughed at him from a solid vantage point.
Continue reading

Two snippets to Prompts

Otherwise known as: I had to make 444 words on #4thewords to keep up my streak, and I didn’t want to write anything else…

First to @dahob’s prompt here and second to Rix’s prompt here

On some level, it was a fascinating study in closed genetic populations. This little island had been cut off from everything else since the End Wars. The bridges had been blown, the waters had become impassible, and a series of bad explosions of magic meant that most people didn’t even remember that it existed.

If a Finder hadn’t targeted it as holding useful resources, it might have gone another seventy-five years before anyone noticed it was there.

As it was, the island had a small population that seemed entirely to consist of rabbit-Change fae. They were very rabbity, more so than any other rabbit-Changes the team had ever seen. And they were very definitely at war.

As far as the team could tell, the striped-looking rabbit people were fighting with the pointed-like-a-Siamese-cat rabbit people over territory rights on the ruins of the single large town in the center of the island. It had gotten quite violent, from the blood and the bodies and the missing limbs, and they hardly noticed the team’s arrival.

Since the team’s goal was at the side of the island, not the center, they were tempted to just let the rabbit gang war continue, but, seriously, there was too much interesting information to be garnered, so they grabbed one of each and hauled them off to get some information.

By the time they left, they’d identified five of each breed – turned out there were sub-breeds – to kidnap, and had even done a little bit of peace-making in the gang war. There was much more to be had from this tiny island, but they had their own war to fight first.


“Seriously, what are you doing?”

The Mara had purple-red wings and looked to be almost as short as Luke. Male, golden-skinned and golden-haired, they stooped into a dive and landed directly in front of Conrad. “You call this a battle plan?”

Conrad looked the Mara up and down. “I’m sorry, you are…?”

He was in no mood to put up with pureblood bullshit. His wife and kids were half a country away, where he couldn’t protect them, and he was fighting would-be gods with the weapons at hands, which might as well be sticks and stones.

“Piotr, called Catapult. You need better weapons.” The Mara bowed deeply. “Just so happens, I’m a weapon.”

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Inconvenient Magic – a story for Patreon

I have discovered that Asta might be my favorite Aunt. The more I write about her and her “placeholder” status, the more I like her. 

This takes place maybe 5 years before Evangaline becomes Aunt, so in the 2000’s.   We have not met Will before. 

“Oh, dear.”  Asta patted her nephew’s shoulder gingerly.  “Not again?”

Will sighed and looked out the window. “Again.  I managed to cover it up, the way you showed me…”

“But if this keeps happening, eventually the grandmothers and the mothers and the fussbudgets down at church are going to figure it out, no matter how small-minded they are,” Asta finished with a sigh.  “And then they’re going to give you Willard’s choice.” Continue reading

Stranded Cat

The cat was trailing strands behind itself, so thickly that at first Spring could not see the color of the cat or the shape of it, just a cat-size ball of Strands.

“Did you-”

Her partner snorted. “That’s Ginger Tom. Well, that’s what I call him.”

Spring squinted, and noticed a line from her partner to the cat, no, several, thin but intense.

“Ginger Tom?” she prompted. This was… interesting.

“Well, Anna down the street, she calls him Pumpkin.” He strolled up the hill of his neighborhood as if it were flat. “And then Geordi down there, he calls him Nightmare. And Candid-and-Cariadad, they call him Only Man, and the redhead who won’t tell me her name, she calls him brother.”

Now Spring could make out the cat, a big orange – no surprise – ginger tom. “They all know him?”

“Know him, love him, feed him. you can see it, can’t you?”

“The way he’s connected to the whole neighborhood?” Spring paused. “No, that’s not right. Not quite connected.” She found herself smiling. “Smart cat. I didn’t know they could do that. He’s made himself the neighborhood.”

“Not a mouse or vole in a mile radius.” Her partner was definitely proud. “And he brings the other cats around like a posse, too.” He gestured towards several other cats. “Shares the food. He’s a good cat.”

Watching the strands twisting around the hill, Spring had to agree.

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