Tag Archive | prompter: rix

Total Eclipse of the…

Total Eclipse of the...

“Not now, I just need a little more time.  And maybe a little tea.  Maybe a lot of tea.”  Nitya hadn’t even looked up.  From the crick her neck, she thought maybe she hadn’t looked up in quite a while.  Hours?  Weeks?  No, obviously not weeks

She stood and stretched, keeping her eyes almost entirely on manuscript in front of her and the notes next to it.

“You know you can’t eat over the manuscripts, Nitya, they’re ancient.  Besides, come on, there’s something you have to see.”

Suula tugged on her roommate’s arm, but Nitya wasn’t moving.  “I’ll come eat in a while.  I got some duplicates made; I can drink some tea and have a couple, oh, I don’t know, energy bars while I look over those.  Suula, I’ve got it figured out.  It’s an eclipse.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Nitya!  Come on.”  This time, Suula put some muscle behind the tug.  “It’s an eclipse!”

“What?” Nitya blinked at her friend.  “Suula, you’re an astrophysicist, when’ve you been reading ancient proto-Sumerian?”

“What?  Nitya, you need to get out of this basement once in a while.”

“It’s not a basement, it’s a climate-controlled reading room-”

“That’s three stories underground.  Nitya, come on, or I’m going to carry you.  Bring those duplicates, sure, you can tell me about it on the way up.  I promise you, I promise, I’ll bring you dinner in the cafe on the first sub-level after that and buy you the good tea, but come out.  Come on.  Come on, please?”

It was the please that did it – that and the promise of Suula’s cooking.  With a guilty little twist in her gut, Nitya realized she hadn’t been holding up her end of their shared-home agreement very well lately (Suula cooked and stocked the kitchen; Nitya cleaned).  “All right, all right.  So, the piece of the document I’ve been having trouble with?  The part that was copied over in, I think, early Roman era?  It’s talking about an eclipse of the sun.  Which should have been obvious, but the way they described it – it sounded like – like it came with some weird, ah, side effects.  Some tidal shifts that changed where the moon was in the sky.  Which, of course, I don’t have to tell you isn’t the sort of thing a solar eclipse does-”

“Ah.  Say that again?  Tidal shifts and a solar eclipse?”  Suula had stopped on the stairs and was staring at Nitya.  “Anything else?”

“Well, ah.”  She pulled up her copy on her phone. “Let’s see.  There’s the solar eclipse – it’s talking about the darkest day growing darker – and there were earthquakes, which I thought had to be poetic; the region that it’s talking about here-”

She caught herself as the floor shook.  It didn’t shake much, but she could hear something falling in the floor above them.  “Suula-?”

“You were saying?”

“-that the area it was talking about isn’t on a fault line and isn’t known to have earthquakes at all.  So I thought it was like  – well, it was referencing a great screaming and wailing, and -”

She didn’t even bother commenting this time, because even a story beneath the ground, they could already hear the screaming and wailing.

“So.  Ah.  There’s an unpredicted solar eclipse going on outside.  But maybe, uh.  We should find someplace safe instead?”

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So, I’ve been watching StarGate…

Heirloom Smiles

Heirloom Smiles

This story comes from my Squish-Squash, Pumpkins and Gourds Prompt Call and is a follow-up to Heirloom Gourds. Brett and Enid were mentioned and present in Exhaustion

Aunt Family. 


As with most good things, Cordelia found she couldn’t leave well enough alone when it came to her neighbor with the amazing squash.

More so when, over the short, decorative fence, she could see that her new neighbor Millie was having victors. Continue reading

Heirloom Gourds

Heirloom Gourds

This story is the fourth one to my Squish-Squash, Pumpkins and Gourds Prompt Call

Aunt Family, new characters. 


“Those are heirloom gourds.  Hi, I’m Millie!  Just move in?”

The woman waving at Cordelia had clearly interpreted her confused gaze.   She was standing in – well, probably in a patch of heirloom gourds.  Her tiny city backyard was absolutely full of vines.  Vines, and giant leaves, and, presumably, gourds somewhere in there, and in the middle of it, a woman in a green dress, her hair curled up on both sides of her head like Princess Leia.  She’d been carefully picking over the vines when she saw Cordelia. 

Who cleared her throat, feeling a little caught out.  “Hi, yeah.  Hi.  We just moved in.  Or, uh, I mean, we just bought the place, we’re not moved in yet.  I…”

She waved the piece of fence she was holding as if that somehow explained things.  Continue reading

The Night Fishers

the night fishers

So this story feels a lot like Things Unspoken, but it wanted to be modern-ish every time I had anything that would set an era, so I’m not sure. 


“The fish have been getting mad right before dusk.”  Murphy lingered, not yet packing up the gear for the day.  “And I swear, when I go diving just as the sunset touches the water, I find the best things.  It’s got to be the difference in lighting, but I gotta ask – why don’t you stay a little later?  I mean, I see you, and you’re out of here the moment the sun sets.  And this is just a summer job for me, isn’t this – like, isn’t it your livelihood?”

Faulkner gave a rueful head-shake.  “You’re still so new.  You fit in so well down at the pub or up at the gods-house, or at the end of the week at the dances, I forget how new you are.”

Murphy tried not to bristle, but it was hard. “Yeah?  You think I fit in – except at my job? I mean, I guess it shouldn’t care, it’s just a summer job-” Continue reading

Things a Tree Knows

Originally posted on Patreon in Nov 2019 and part of the Great Patreon Crossposting to WordPress.
The character(s) in this story are the grandsprouts of Curry, from Addergoole Year 9, especially this chapter and this outtake and this hiatus fic.
(note: as of posting in mid-January, Year 9 is temporarily down.  Sorry about that!)

Short version: Curry, and “his” children, reproduce more or less asexually, and thus produce clones.  But possibly not really.

This story is set a (short) generation after the apocalypse (2011-2012) in the Fae Apoc setting.

Quercus  and their siblings are all “they”, because gender can be interesting when you’re a magical fairy not-quite-clone tree person.


There were things Quercus knew that didn’t really matter.   Their siblings were not quite clones, but everyone thought they were; they weren’t quite clones of their parent, but everyone thought they were.

(They knew something that did matter, which was that their family line’s exact method of reproduction continued to confuse both botanists and fae geneticists, but it still seemed to work, although Quercus hadn’t been interested in trying themselves yet.)

They knew they grew up slowly, they had longer before they had to go to “school” than most people by almost twice as long, and they got to play in their garden as much as they wanted as long as they did their schoolwork and chores first. Continue reading

Lord Eigeran (a wiki page)

From Tapaciore, the online grimoire

For the late-Rioren Dynasty politician, see Gorpen, Governor Eigeran
Eigeran” and “Yarlen Eigeran” redirect here.  For other uses, see Eigeran (disambiguation) and Yarlen Eigeran (disambiguation)

Yarlen Eigeran Gwymden of Prówit Nod, Lord by the King’s Writ, BE 812-902, [see Deklegion methods of formal address]  was a Deklegion courtier most well known for his part in circumventing/averting the DeklegElherion Empire war in the years of 847-852. He is also renowned (although less so in his own nation) for his work in poetry. Eigeran invented three new poetic forms/styles, one in his native Deklegion dialect of Shoktu and two in Middle Elherith (having spent much of his later life living in the Elherion Empire).[1]

Among his best-known works and accomplishments are the Treaty of the Cliff, a diplomatic treatise in four languages (Shoktu, Deklegia, Middle Elherith, and Carruph) which is credited not only with ending the conflict at hand but solving several entrenched problems in both Dekleg and in the Elherion Empire.  Because the Treaty was considered a diplomatically manipulative document as well as a translation, he was called The Thief of the Cliff or The Lord of Lies both in life and for many decades after his death. The latter title gained him a resurgence of interest from younger generations in both Elherion and in Dekleg twice — in the 18th century and then again in the 24th century.  Continue reading

Graduation… or Not

Originally posted on Patreon in October 2019 and part of the Great Patreon Crossposting to WordPress.
This is set some time after most of the Summer stories and told me a couple things about Summer than I hadn’t known before!


“Miss RoundTree.”

“Please, call me Summer.”

Summer had a new adviser.  By her count, this was the third – fifth if you counted that one who hadn’t lasted long enough to see her or that one who had kicked her out of his office, out of his classroom, and tried to kick her out of his department but failed.


Mattie MacEachern seemed like a pretty nice sort.  New to the college but not new to teaching, looking to settle down someplace small and safe to raise three kids with also-a-professor spouse, and a pretty enthusiastic teacher most of the time.

At the moment, Dr. MacEachern was frowning at Summer.

“You’ve been here for six years.”

“Yes.”  There was no point in arguing with the obvious. “It’s a really great college, Dr. MacEachern.”

“I don’t see any problems with the bursar’s office….”

Dr. MacEachern flipped through pages on the website, trying to access the correct file.  Summer could have gotten right to the correct page – but that made teachers a little uncomfortable, at least their first year or two.

“The settlement for my father’s death left a generous stipend.”  Summer didn’t inflect that at all. There were so many ways people could take it, and none of them ever ended up all that good.  “My first three years here were also heavily supported by scholarships, and I did a lot of Work-study work.”

“Past tense? Not anymore?”

“Other kids need the scholarships, Dr. MacEachern.”

Summer had held one more major in her time here than the number of semesters she’d been matriculated, but in all that time, she had never stopped taking theatre classes and working in the theatre department, taking part in theatre club, and generally being a theatre kid.  If she couldn’t give just the impression she wanted with any set of words, she really didn’t deserve to be here.

The thing was, at the moment, she didn’t want to give any impression.  She wanted to see what Dr. MacEachern did when given nothing but facts to work with.

“So your family is paying for your education out of pocket, then–”

“No.  The people responsible for my father’s death are paying for my education out of pocket.  And they will continue to do so.”  She lifted her chin and stared her new adviser down.  “I mean, I keep getting money either way,” she added with a small quirk of her lips, because Dr. MacEachern really wasn’t all that bad, at least not so far.  “But once I get my bachelor’s degree, the amount goes down considerably.”

Dr. MacEachern looked down at the notes sitting carefully in a light-blue folder; the professor looked at the computer screen.  After a pause so long it couldn’t be called pregnant or expectant anymore, the professor looked back at Summer’s face.  “You have-”  The folder was shuffled.  “You have had how many majors in your time here?”

“One per semester.  Plus one time where, uh, things really, really didn’t work out.”

“You have an outstanding GPA.  For a small school like this, you are doing wonders for its overall academic average – although not so much for its graduation rate.”

“I know.”  She didn’t bother to be modest.  She was book-smart.  So was Winter.

“And you have – you have friends here?”

“Bishop’s doing grad work across the street at Zimmer U.  Melinda’s working on her masters in education here, for the most part.”

“And you are continuing to pursue, it appears, a complete survey of every class provided by this college.”

“Well.”  Summer leaned forward, smiling finally. “Only if you can help me.  There’s a class – it’s actually a higher-level math class focusing on business statistics – that’s only offered once every four years normally, but I didn’t have the prereq last time it came around, and that was, ah, that was last year.”

Dr. MacEeachern pinched a generous nose.  “I have to ask, Miss Roundtree.  Are you asking for my help in getting the class offering scheduled moved? I do happen to know who would be teaching it, yes.  Or are you asking for my help in finding other things to fill the remaining two and a half years until it’s available again?”

Summer chuckled.  “Dr. MacEachern.”  She half-bowed from a sitting position. “I think that you and I are going to understand each other just fine.  Oh, I have my hopes for classes this semester.  And since I haven’t tried your major yet… it seems like it’s time for me to change majors again.”

“I-” Dr. MacEachern studied the paper Summer passed her. “I think, Miss RoundTree, that I might enjoy having you in my classes.  But- please bring aspirin next time.”

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