Even if I don't manage to write anything for the ~handful of prompts I see daily here on Fedi, I do tend to jot them down with notes.
I suppose this will just be a thread of belated prompt-answer short fiction?
Ignore or enjoy at your leisure!
Edgar didn't like it, but he needed the money.
That's how he ended up driving the truck and not asking questions.
He was pretty good at that, really. He could drive the truck and not ask questions.
His night vision was good, and he had the licenses he needed...
He pretended he hadn't seen a line reading 'organs' on his paperwork. Edgar just needed the address.
It was the middle of the night when he pulled up at a farmhouse.
He didn't ask...
...he just delivered the pair of fancy electric pianos to the pale folks waiting.
(Organ, WSS 8/19/24)
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)
@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!
(WSS 11/24 Cure)
"You don't have to keep trying," Teofila said softly as she squeezed Miha's hand. "We both know there's no cure."
"Teofila..."
"I've always been like this. Good days and bad. That's why I have so much fun on the good days..."
She was a terror on her good days and was not apologetic about it. That was how she met Miha, after all, and how she had her best adventures.
"On your next good one, we'll..."
Teofila could feel Miha's bright magic pouring into her, luring her to a restful sleep.
The next good one would be the best one yet.
(MastoPrompt 11/10 Flow)
"So it just stops somewhere on the this floor," Reg said as he wandered along the castle's corridor.
"We've never had magic flow problems before," the high wizard who was guiding him replied.
"Hmm..." There were only so many causes of magic clogs. But Reg was the best magic plumber in the kingdom and-
Just then, two young children ran into the hall, chased by a pair of maids.
Reg couldn't help laughing. This looked like a pretty common job.
He reached for his trusty and worn wrenchwand.
"Let's just start in their rooms."
(WSS 11/19 Arrest)
"Barry," the judge said firmly, "this is your twenty-seventh arrest for the same offense. I can't just keep fining you and putting you on probation."
"It's a perfectly good use of magic," Barry replied. That was why he kept doing it! The law was wrong and he was helping people!
The judge sighed. "What we're going to have to do is a bit of reform, Barry. First you're going to spend a night in jail. Then we're going to work on reform.
"And reforming the laws on that kind of magic will take time."
Barry grinned. He could do that.
(MastoPrompt 10/27 Barbed)
Avery wiped the sweat from his forehead and then smiled. This was his first task as head of the family and he was right there doing it himself.
The barbed wire could go to the scrap yard; it wasn't needed any more. The fencing could be used elsewhere, perhaps. And when all of that was down and sorted, he could see about building a bridge instead.
It would be a lot of work, and not just physical work, but Avery couldn't wait to do it.
He waved to the other side of the river, where the barbed wire was coming down as well.
(MastoPrompt 9/4 Opinion)
Gordon wasn't nervous, though he'd never gone up against a dragon before. Mostly he was curious as to how the dragon would respond to him.
The dragon was eyeing him just as curiously, surely thinking the same things.
"Let's keep this clean and stick to facts over opinions," the moderator said and both Gordon and the dragon nodded.
Introductions were made; the dragon's name was Nathaniel, and then it was time to begin.
It didn't even really matter if Gordon won the debate. He'd go home proud.
And with a new friend, too!
(WSS 11/5 Figure)
Another day, another batch.
Serena quickly looked over her paints and made sure she had everything she needed for the morning. Each figure needed to be hand-painted, and for it to have the proper effect, it would also require a certain amount of prayer.
Serena could do both. She'd been painting figures of gods since she'd been old enough to hold brushes.
"You really don't need to model for me," she said to the god lounging in her studio. She knew what he looked like. She knew his prayers.
"I'll make lunch?" he said.
He could stay.
(WSS 11/13 Dish)
"You do have to feed me," the demon said, and Vega nodded slowly. He remembered reading that, and he had followed the instructions to add a small empty dish inside the summoning circle.
"What do you eat?" Vega asked quietly. Blood, or his soul, or something that would be complicated to-
The demon shrugged. "We could just get Taco Bell, I suppose. Unless something else sounds good to you."
Vega was not expecting that, but then again, he ate at Taco Bell fairly often. He probably should have guessed...
"Yeah, sounds good. Let's go."
(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.