The wizard finished the incantation, and the demon appeared in the sigil.
"Let us continue."
"Do you really not have any friends who could help," the demon asked
"I cannot show weakness."
"You'd show strength."
"Quiet!"
The demon sat, muttering "I can't wait for the invention of therapists."
Everything collided at once:
Billowing sickly shimmering waves of psiactive spores --
Pale fires spreading; flickering tongues of flame --
The screaming din of a dozen klaxons sounding --
The stranger, shrieking like a dying demonwing --
A dozen IPO squires and their psi-active lieutenant swarming the station's market core --
Captain Skye saw the collapse. Ku, the fleeing saboteur. Lily threw herself at the fires. All hands, from all sides.
Save it all.
#wss366 (collapse) #microfiction
The #MastoPrompt for Monday 14 April 2025 is:
The poem or story can include the prompt word or be about the prompt word.
@ me, if you like, or just include the #MastoPrompt tag (to allow people to follow or filter their feeds), or keep your work to yourself - all the options are good as long as you're writing.
If you're including an image please do include alt-text if you’re able to.
#PennedPossibilities 642 — How old are some of your characters?
I'm glad this isn't just MCs or SCs. I'll go with the last written story point or idea that isn't written.
Devil-girl: ~19
Bolt/Streak: 27
Streak and Thorn: 18
Emeraline: 31
Marigold: 26
Triplets Cloud Dancer, Meadow Dancer, and Fire Dancer: 35
The Hawk: 26
Chrome: 31
Rainy Days: > 3,000
May Ri: 45
Mari: 22
Manette: 19
Twins Miriam and Maurine 17
Moria: 13
Reina Īto: 35
Randy: 55
[Author retains copyright (c)2025 R.S.]
#gender #fiction #writer #author
#sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion
#RSstory #RSReluctanceStory #RSMarsNeededWomen
#microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory
We wondered why we never saw anyone out there and suddenly they all appeared.
The hyper light routes across the galaxy require maintenance. Rubbish piles up, the starweeds grow on the bits of asteroids and comets that accumulate along the way. Sometimes they need a trim.
And so it was that our first visitor chugged into the solar system, a simple space tractor.
Behind it, a long queue of intergalactic starships. Some of them stopped to refuel.
Jupiter is half the size now.
"WHAT did you just DO?"
- I only changed the colour of the universe."
"You did what?"
- I made it blue instead of red.
"You mean to say you reversed the expansion of the universe?"
- Yeah that. I got bored of red. Blue is much nicer.
"You know you just condemned the inhabitants of the universe to an early end of their existence?"
- I'm sure they like the blue shift too.
Chaos Nodes (places like Melbourne, Seattle, Inverness, Wellington) are famous for fractally changeable weather. Weeks with alternating heat and chill; days with five minute rainstorms. The term “Four Seasons in One Day” is well known to locals in these places. But the pattern is self-similar. Four phases in one millisecond, Four million degrees in one nanosecond.
Glimpses of so-called “cold fusion” are in fact pico-weather events arising from the chaos nodes, which themselves are thought to be driven by iron-rich inclusions in the upper mantle (possibly the remains of giant impactors from the Late Heavy Bombardment).
You can actually extract energy from the chaos. Not enough to run a city, but plenty to run a house or three. My house, for example. The chaos panels lining my basement extract energy from the fluctuations. This has the side-effect of smoothing out local variations. If you live near me, I’m to thank for the noticeably more stable weather recently. If you’re one of those weirdos drawn to chaos climates, sorry!
“Wait a moment, boys. What’ve you got there in that bag?”
“Oh... it’s just some, um, kind of jewelry,” Benny muttered. “Nothing anybody’s gonna miss.”
“We left all the cash, of course,” Malcom chimed in. “We know it belongs to the honest taxpayers all around us”—he pointed to the dead town—“and their legal representatives.” With that, he gestured toward the desert on the other side of the road.
“You can search us if you like,” P-Fist offered, grinning.
“No, I won’t. Expect your fee to be cut,” I said.
“Come on, Amy, don’t be so bitchy. You weren’t that law-abiding yourself before you started working for the Troopers.”
“Maybe.”
“What about ten percent? That’s not too bad, eh?”
“That’s close to what I had in mind.“ I nodded toward the road. “ I’ll call you when I’m back.”
With a ridiculous imitation of a military salute, the four brothers got into their car and rode out of town.
That was easy. HQ would be satisfied, and most likely, there was a little bonus in it for me. Let’s see whether any remnants of the Glopmaster are left. Green slime scattered around a room is always good for a selfie...
When the Mercurian Glim-Glops infiltrated Becksonville, the choice was easy: the Felthams were the best cleanup crew WTFD could afford. Fast efficient, not interested in taking captives—and that’s exactly what had happened. But everybody knew that—if left alone—the three couldn’t resist plundering. That why I got sent in: making sure they didn’t get too greedy.
Everything was going smooth – a little too smooth. It hadn’t taken them more than half a day to clear the town. And—damn! There were three Feltham brothers, not four! And there was this yellowish glow in their eyes. I had taken it for a reflection of the evening sunlight.
I jumped on my BMW. They were at least five minutes ahead of me. Time for a little booster ride.
They are so focused on their work. So serious and purposeful.
The greatest congregation you have seen of the dusty, dull-red ants was around a discarded paperback book. In a span of just two days it was dismantled. They left only the cover, like an empty husk.
Ants can't eat paper. Ants can't eat SD cards. Ants can't eat information... but perhaps, like the leaf-cutters, (who cannot eat leaves) these 'archive ants' are feeding some other organism that can.
2/2 #microfiction
“Ohmigod, Kevin! What happened to your head?”
“Was leaning against the train door when it opened, I’ll get it patched up at lunchtime. It’s not like I bleed.”
“No way mister, I’m logging you on sick leave for the rest of the week, go get yourself sorted.”
“But…”
“Didn’t you hear, we seceded from the Federation this morning. Employees have rights now.”
“Oh, neat!”
@SFFMagazineCovers
Oscar watched the CAT display as the alien machine performed the transmutation on Glenda, his sister.
They'd tried it on the neighbour's sick dog first, and found that the cancers were not able to survive the process. Reversing the process also worked, and the dog seemed ok afterwards, if a little friskier than usual. But given how sick it had been, that was hardly surprising.
Glenda settled to the ground, now entirely made of living metal.
"Well Sis, it looks like you're clean now, according to the scans," Oscar said without looking up. It had been bad enough seeing her in her underwear. "Step in again, and I'll reverse it."
He heard her moving around. Nothing on the screen. "Sis?"
"Hold onto that thought Ozzy! I'm just going to see Annette. I might be a while, don't wait up!"
He heard the door close, and sighed. One day she'd come out. Everyone knew, but somehow Glenda though she was being soooo discrete.
There was a series of loud bangs from upstairs. He rushed up, only to see an unconcious stranger on the floor, with a .38 revolver still smoking in his hand.
Glenda was in her robe, sitting down and looking at something in her hand.
"Are you alright?"
"Hmmmm? Oh, yes." She held up a small metal blob, "I appear to be bulletproof."
Oscar looked back at the unconcious figure.
Following his gaze, Glenda helpfully continued "It appears that our intruder was not able to cope with a lady not dying when shot in the face." She got up, and started up the stairs. "I'm getting dressed, and going out. I don't think the police should see me, do you?"
Oscar looked down again, and sighed. Again. He kicked the gun aside, and got out the duct tape. The things you do for family.
- But why? You had it implanted just two months ago. You said, there were no side effects, right?
- Right.
- Aren’t you satisfied with the enhancement?
- I am. Everything’s working fine.
- So why do you want me to remove it?
- I looked into the manual and the specs. The chipset is from Korea.
- South Korea. Partially.
- Yes, but PlainLog cannot guarantee they’re not using Chines wafers for their chips. And I don’t want the Reds to have a kill switch for my body.
- Don’t be ridiculoux. Their cannot harm your. Ant why would the Chinesse.
- Doc?
- Yes? I am.
- I want a domestic upgrade.
- Hm. That’s possible but you need to fill out some resturbance cupboards ant eat my shoes.
- Doc, what are your tall-king about. It sounds over an ice machine.
- Oh, thank you, my ganglion is ringing so sweet that we all have – to – beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep...
- Dock! What is clancering in my - your we - can - not – zzzzzzzzzzrrrrrp...
"Ich bin Azrael, der Engel des Todes. Ich bringe Verwüstung, wohin ich komme ist Schmerz, und wenn ich gehe bleiben nur Weinen und Wehklagen. Kniet nieder vor mir!"
"Das ist ja fein, aber wollen Sie jetzt Ketchup oder Mayo auf die Pommes?"
#writersCoffeeClub April 12. How would you write a story with a cast of one? Could you? Part 3
Here we go. One character cast, 100 words.
Onee-Chan to the Rescue
“Chino-chan has the flu. What should I do?”
Cocoa stood in the cafe, deep in thought.
“I already called Takahiro-san, and he’s getting a train home and should be back tonight. He said to close the cafe, and I did. I called the girls and told them not to visit. I don’t want them to get sick.”
“There has to be more big sister can do.”
“I know. I’ll make her an enormous, fluffy bun!”
“No, her stomach is too upset.”
“Rice porridge. That’s what Mom made.”
“I wonder where the rice cooker is?”
“Found it.”
“Onee-chan to the rescue!”
#NMWCC #NMPrompts #Drabble #TootFic #FlashFiction #microfiction #IsTheOrderARabbit #ご注文はうさぎですか? #GochiUsa #HotoCocoa #Plushi #Food
In the days when the Starlinks Came Right, Drowned R’lyeh, Dim Carcosa, and even the Mountains of Madness came online. Unprepared for the Fediverse, the Elder Ones were radicalized by what they encountered there. Catgirl Cthulhu rose, and demanded her adoring cultists deliver pets. Shoggothim in massed ranks rolled over cybertrucks. The King in Yellow joined Truth Social, and made that place a living, bleeding, mindless hell (well, even more). Heed this warning. Keep The Ancients Off The Internet.
#Tootfic #MicroFiction #PowerOnStoryToot
Edit: commas oxfordised
The rogue blinked. "What happened to your eyebrows?"
The barbarian scowled. "I followed Victor Ironhand's advice. He said reptilians flee if you give them a good #thwack on the nose. Including dragons."
"You believed him? Seriously?"
"Why not? He's experienced."
"Didn't you wonder where he got his name?"
"Because of—Oh." The barbarian looked uncharacteristically thoughtful.
The party was a great success. The princess listened with fascination as a dragon and a librarian were discussing storage and organizing of books.
"You two have so much in common!" she exclaimed.
"What? No! They share books," the dragon growled, disgusted.
"Indeed," the librarian said with pride.
"Hey, Ku?"
Surprised by the rough warble, the Six-Stitch's erstwhile owner stopped halfway to the kiosk's rear; blinked; and ambled back.
Baran, still slumping at the counter? Not that odd. But with that look in his eyes ...
"Something wrong?"
"You think I can love, Ku?"
Oh. He leaned on the counter.
"What's love if it isn't covering that family's passage? Pulling extra shifts to get that vaccine moving? Donating cells? Tutoring?
"You already love, Baran."
#wss366 (love) #microfiction
Vesper and Nikol were side by side on the subway, scrolling.
"You know what I really #hate," Vesper remarked. "Is when someone starts their tweet with 'Make no mistake.' I'm so done with that."
"They're not called tweets on Bluesky," Nikol said. "They're called 'sk---'"
"I also hate people responding to a comment with unrelated pedantic criticism," Vesper said darkly. "And by the way, I'm scrolling Mastodon, not Bluesky. Where they call them 'toots,' but whatever."
“Whoa you got a Check Reactor light on your dash there”
“Oh, that thing always comes on; nothing ever happens”
“No really, you should get it checked”
“You sound like the warp engineer who tried to tell me I shouldn’t use duct tape on a cracked intermix manifold”
“Fuck this, I’m out”
“No, wait!”
“Not likely” *SHWOOOOMclankAAAAAaaaa…..*
“I meant my last passenger used the lifepod and i’ve been meaning to replace it….”
八尺様
