Reyna seldom had guests at her place. It was probably the location, or maybe it was just bad luck.

But there was no turning it around, she realized. Soon, she was sure, the whole place would be a parking lot or a strip mall.

There wasn't anywhere to go, however. She couldn't just up and leave.

Maybe someone would try to move her? To where, though? And still forgotten...

But in the end, they moved the stones and not the bodies.

Reyna had guests again.

And she flattened all of their tires with truly malicious glee.

(Seldom, Mastoprompt 8/18/24)

"Soft," Teofila said as she gently stroked the tiny, fluffy feathers at the base of one of Miha's wings.

"I suppose," Miha replied. She'd been halfway through getting dressed but then Teofila had intervened and she was back on the bed.

Miha wasn't complaining about that.

Teofila's fingers roamed down her spine, on skin instead of fluff.

"Teofila..."

"Soft," Teofila repeated and Miha was sure she could feel Teofila's smile.

"I suppose," Miha said quietly.

Softer than she thought she could be... But, for Teofila, well...

(MicroPrompt 8/6/24 Wings)

Dusty worked quickly and quietly, one enchanted pick after another, prodding and twisting and finally clicking the last bit into place while also snapping a troublesome seal...

"There we go," he said as he stepped aside. It was not his business what was behind the locked door.

"Thank you," his employer said in a dark, rumbling voice while also turning the door's knob. "You will be compensated well for your work."

Not too well, Dusty thought, or it would cause other problems, but-

-but he also knew not to refuse a dragon.

(MastoPrompt 10/31/24 Twist)

Darby pushed aside the curtain to reveal a clear, bright morning. It had snowed again, and there was no sign of Darrel.

With a sigh, Darby first made coffee and then cast a simple spell to find where Darrel had ended up this time. Hopefully he'd not been buried again; it was too cold to dig him up.

He found Darrel an hour later, half in a snow drift, still incredibly dead and reeking of bad decisions.

Darby hauled him out and got him on his feet, brushing off both apologies and snowflakes.

It was a new day, they could try again.

(WSS 10/31/24 Drift)

Allie thrust her hand into the fire and pulled out a fat fistful of flame.

This, she poured into a jar she'd prepared in advance. At the bottom were the thirty-two other ingredients. She'd only needed the flame...

Her skin was unmarked, except for some soot, and as Allie screwed the lid onto the jar, she said the few words she needed to.

With that, it was done. She set the burning jar beneath the new moon and smiled. One month and she'd have a new heart, burning bright and without hurt.

Allie wiped the soot from her hand.

(MicroPrompt 8/7/24 Heart)

Frost put her hair up in a tight bun and then pulled on a warm knit hat that matched the rest of her attire. She'd found that hats and socks made all the difference as far as keeping warm went.

Her tower was a little drafty... Well, it was a lot drafty. She'd been working on insulating it and sealing all the cracks and holes she found, but it was an endless task and she had other work to do, too.

It was a spacious tower, though, and the rent was cheap. That alone kept Frost happily where she was.

Time to stoke the fire.

And knit.

(WSS 9/4/24 Tower)

(MastoPrompt 8/15 Doubt)

"Help yourself to the cookies, if you'd like," Jamey said as he opened the cupboard and put his wood box of teabags away. He'd chosen a pair of one of his favorites; hopefully his guest would agree.

He had a small carton of cream and a jar of sugar, and he'd grabbed two of his nicer mugs.

Now he just had to wait, and that was the hardest part. His guest was not touching the cookies...

But Jamey was doing his best. He'd been confronted by the Specter of Doubt and had done the only thing he could think of-

He'd offered it tea.

@FrostPoem
(9/5, temporal)

Kaela pulled off her robes as soon as she closed the door.

"Another temporal rift," she said flatly. "It's closed, but this is getting exhausting."

Willow looked up from the book she'd been studying. "Another one?" she asked. "That's three this week."

"This week?" Kaela questioned. "That was the fourth today."

"That was last week?" Willow frowned and looked over at her notes and the dates she'd been scribbling in one column. They were far from sequential.

Kaela sighed. "When do you think it is?"

"Past time to end this."

(MastoPrompt 11/9 Purr)

Mithrilda had barely gotten seated when the first dragon landed on her lap.

"Blanket," she said as she scooped it up and set it back on the floor. Dragons were allowed on her lap if she had a blanket on her legs.

She managed to spread the thick blanket over herself and get comfortable before she had two dragons also trying to get comfortable...

Mithrilda sighed. She had never intended to take in unwanted small dragons, but she could never refuse one...

The pair on her lap both started to purr...

Now could she reach her book?

(WSS 11/28 Game)

Huela reached for her drink while she waited for the game to finish running the matching sequence.

It was an old game, and one that was probably on borrowed time as a live service, but Huela had been playing for so long... She'd missed a few days, though. She'd been sick...

She wasn't surprised when she was matched with all the usuals with generic names that always seemed to be on. Bots, she'd long-assumed, to fill the gaps.

That was fine. It was time to play. No need for chatting, no need to-

[You're back!]
[We worried.]

"What?"

(MastoPrompt 11/28 Sorrow)

The neighbors gathered quietly, watching as cart after cart of fancy belongings arrived and were taken into the otherwise drab rowhouse.

It was in an older part of town, one half-forgotten and run down. And why any sort of noble from the north might be moving in...

It had been a rumor, until the carts started arriving-

Lord Langlee watched quietly from the shadows, breathing in the ambient sorrow that had taken root in the neighborhood.

His presence would change little if he kept to himself.

And, quietly, he would feast.

(Microprompt 11/28 Clink)
@FrostPoem

Orsala heard the coins clink and clatter into the box and reached for the mechanical apparatus that opened the curtain.

Her dance was not long, but she hoped it was impressive. It was clear she did not have strings nor wires and could move more freely than a normal puppet or automaton.

All she had to do was not look directly at her audience, for she could not hide the witchfire eyes in her very human skull.

Tin and cloth covered her bones to aid in the deception...

It was a strange unlife...

Orsala danced.

(WSS 11/7 Print)

Wynflaed had probably startled the postman. But it wasn't the first time she'd done that and she was unfortunately sure it wouldn't be the last.

She was just so excited and finally, her copy of the new print of a complicated old spell had arrived. The advert had promised legibility and accuracy and honestly, previous prints had not had those.

Wynflaed had the scars to prove it.

So if this copy worked, well-

Carefully she opened the rolled packaging and stared at the crisp words and-

"Huh," she said, frowning. "That explains a lot."

(MastoPrompt 11/20 Scuff)

"Mornin'," Dawn said as she set up her stand near the end of the market. It wasn't the best location, but she could afford the fee.

"Good morning," Tibold replied as he pulled out a coin.

Dawn smiled. He was her first customer every day even though his shoes often didn't have more than a rogue scuff or bit of dirt.

But it was easy work and a good start to each day.

When she'd finished, Dawn quietly stood and Tibold looked like he wanted to say something.

"Thank you," he finally managed.

Dawn nodded.

Well, maybe tomorrow.

(WSS 11/12 Scrape)

The villagers were still arguing and gossiping when Miranda returned to the entrance to the cemetery.

With one quick scrape of her claws along the stone wall, they all paused and looked at both her and the wall. The wall was undamaged, as were her claws.

"No ghosts," she said flatly. True ghosts were rare. But she'd been called to investigate and they'd paid her fee. "You've all forgotten, haven't you..."

She then whistled between her fangs and a shaggy dark dog appeared beside her.

"Please play with your grim more; he's lonely."

(WSS 11/27 Sweet)

Del had barely finished surveying the festive mess left behind by his family when there was a soft knock at the back door.

Laughing, he dashed back to open it.

"Come in and eat," he said to the waiting faeries and other folk. "The punch is a bit too sweet and the cake a bit too dry, but..."

But food was food and treats were treats and Del was happy to not need to worry about leftovers.

Nor the festive mess, he realized. He hadn't expected the trade, but he accepted it.

He'd told his family he had good neighbors and he meant it.

(WSS 11/26 Utter)

At first, nobody so much as wanted to utter a word about the possibility-

But as the days passed, it became clear that there was a vampire in their midst.

There were the usual concerns, of course, and questions, and...

"They're probably just as wary as we are," Nelda Givens finally pointed out. "I think we can probably work something out. Times have changed."

Public notices were posted and everyone quietly waited.

The night before the full moon, a slim young woman introduced herself to the pack of werewolves.

Times had changed.

(WSS 11/25 Craze)

Alston had been an undertaker for his entire life. Before him, his mother had been an undertaker, and his grandfather before. He was comfortable with death and with the deceased and funerals and mourning and everything else the profession required.

He had accommodated some unique requests over the years...

But as he set the monthly trade newsletter down on his desk, Alston was pretty sure he was going to have to draw a line.

Exciting new industry craze or not, using necromancy to attend one's own funeral was just going too far!