Fionagreywrites

Week 5 of Odd Prompts: 2024 Edition

The little waves in life are some of the most interesting. Everyone notices the inevitable tsunami and the destruction that follows, but the smaller tides — inexorably approaching, growing ever more impactful, steadily wearing away at stone as a test of time — build the change.

The smaller waves pop up here and there with foreshadowing, increasing in complexity until they’ve developed into a problem characters can’t avoid. With the worst of timing, of course, because authors torturing characters does make for a more interesting story.

PitchSwingHit
Cedar SandersonThe cat stared sadly out into the darknessnother Mike
AC YoungCity Forests were a great idea in theory, but the engineering to put them into practice proved painful.Cedar Sanderson
Becky JonesThe tiny dragon fiercely guarded her desk.AC Young
PadreAnother day, another disaster.Leigh Kimmel
Leigh KimmelWell, there go my plans for the day…Padre
nother MikePutting orphanages on the moon turned out to have interesting consequences…Fiona Grey
Fiona GreyThe terraforming technology was surprisingly perfect, until…Becky Jones

We’ve got some delightful spares this week as well, full of consequences and delightful backstory, all hidden under the surface of shining waters that hide the ecosystem from easy viewing.

SpareThe elderly man with the sharp nose lamented in a hoarse, high-pitched voice
SpareThe AI was stunned and bewildered when it was asked with ‘please’ and told ‘thank you’.
SparePlease keep that door locked so the octopus in the basement doesn’t escape…
SpareThe dragon puppies in the basement were howling again…
SpareWhen the ghosts started photobombing the AI art, no one knew what happened…

Sail on by and drop your anchors in the comments! Why not stay a while?

Header image by Fiona Grey.

19 comments

  2. This week Becky Jones supplied me with: The tiny dragon fiercely guarded her desk.

    It’s been a little over a year since I last explored this world.

    —

    Lizzie-Eleanor Austen was returning to her hall of residence from the Friday afternoon’s lectures. Suddenly something flew down from the sky, and landed on the path in front of her, blocking her route.

    “Greetings. Whom do I have the privilege of addressing?”

    She had just been addressed by a small green winged lizard. “Erm. I’m Lizzie.” And then remembering her manners, “And you are?”

    “Acuti Emeraldscale, at your service.” The lizard-thing bowed its head as it replied.

    Lizzie was still confused. “And if I may ask what you are?”

    “I’m a pigmy cold drake, and your pair.”

    What? But she wasn’t … “I’m not a magician. I don’t have the drawing skills to do any of the rituals!” Lizzie could hear her voice climbing in pitch as she felt herself starting to panic.

    “Not a problem. We’re free casters, not ritualists.”

    “That’s worse!”

    “I wouldn’t have chosen you if you couldn’t do it. But you should contact Goldtalon and her human. They’re good at helping beginner free magicians. I think I can remember their number.”

    “Can’t you just pick someone else?”

    “You can’t escape your destiny that easily, my dear Lizzie.”

    The next morning saw Lizzie knocking on a front door in Edgbaston, Acuti the dragon on her shoulder. Yet again she wondered how it was that she’d been persuaded to do this.

    The door opened to reveal a silver haired lady. “You must be Lizzie.”

    “Yes, and this is Acuti.”

    “Remember that you have to share her, and you’ll do a lot better than my husband’s partner in magic.”

    Lizzie wasn’t sure how to react to that, but fortunately the lady wasn’t addressing her.

    Then she held out her hand. “I’m Fiona. Welcome to our humble abode.”

    Lizzie shook Fiona’s hand and passed inside the entrance.

    “My husband is awaiting you in the back garden. I know you said you didn’t want lunch, but I’m cooking extra so you can change your mind.”

    “That’s very kind of you, Mrs Gibson.”

    “Fiona, please. You’ll be spending enough time here over the next few months that we’re better off starting on a more informal footing.”

    Fiona led them down the hall and through the kitchen. Opening the back door she ushered the visitors through it into the back garden.

    Lizzie took a quick glance around. There was a small paved patio stretching the full width of the house. Beyond this was a large lawn. On the right was a flower bed containing a line of what looked to her extremely inexpert eye to be some sort of bush, possibly rose bushes. On the left was a greenhouse, and in the far-right hand corner was a shed. Between the greenhouse and the shed around the lawn was another flower bed, this one plain soil.

    Waiting for her in the centre of the lawn was a tall man with white hair in shirt and smart trousers, and a dragon with golden scales.

    “Welcome. Welcome. Lizzie and … Aguti?”

    “Acuti Emeraldscale, Mr Gibson.”

    “My apologies, young dragon. You may call me Henry. This is Amber Goldtalon.”

    Introductions completed, Henry proceeded to start the lesson, sounding very much like the professor that he was.

    “Do you have any experience of free casting?”

    “No, I haven’t any casting experience. My drawing is terrible.”

    Henry and Amber both chuckled. “Good! I don’t like teaching ex-ritualists, they tend to think too much in 2-d.

    “Today, we’ll start with solo casting. Normally you will cast with your pair, but for a beginner that adds a slight additional complexity, so better to add that in once you have a better idea of what you’re doing. We’ll start with one of the simpler spells.”

    Something happened and blue lines of magic appeared out of thin air. They formed a triangle on a horizontal plane, and then three more blue lines grew, completing a pyramid. It hung in the air for about half a second, and then the lines dissolved, as a droplet of water appeared within the structure before falling to the ground.

    “That was a condensation spell. It’s an upright tetrahedron formed of water. The larger the tetrahedron, the larger the area of effect and the more water condenses out of the air. I’ll explain the rest of the theory later. Right now it’s your turn.”

    Lizzie was guided through the process of reaching for the magic for the first time. She grasped the water, but it was slippery. She fashioned the first line of the spell, then set about forming the rest of the triangular base. It wasn’t particularly precise, but she managed to complete something that looked approximately like a triangle. Then the rest. That was difficult, for the water didn’t want to travel uphill, but she did it one edge at a time.

    Finally, it was complete. Half a second later the net vanished. It looked as if a fine mist appeared in its place before dissipating once more.

    Henry and Amber cast a spell of their own. It was made up of white triangles and squares. Within formed a picture of the shape Lizzie had created.

    “This is an illusion spell. It’s currently beyond you, so don’t attempt to replicate it. This particular illusion shows your last spellwork. Take your time. Walk around it. Try to see where your spell falls short of the regular tetrahedron that is required. Then have another go.”

    So it continued. By the time they broke for lunch, Lizzie had cast spells using earth, air, fire and water, but never more than one of these in the same spell. She had successfully cast spells in the form of both an upright and an inverted tetrahedron, but was still having a little trouble with a cube.

    The sign that the morning’s lesson was over was when Lizzie almost lost control of a line of fire, only just catching it before it flared out. Henry and Amber swiftly called an end to it after that. Lizzie was secretly very relieved, for she was exhausted. But neither Henry nor Amber appeared tired.

    When Lizzie enquired about this as they went inside, Amber explained: “You don’t have any stamina yet. Plus, it takes time to learn how to control the flows efficiently, and that can’t be demonstrated.”

    Fiona was waiting for them. “Right. You’re exhausted. You’re staying for lunch.”

    It said a great deal about how tired Lizzie was that she didn’t complain.

    Then Fiona turned her attention to Amber, and her voice grew cold. “Your meal’s in the corner.” Her voice warmed as she spoke to Acuti “I assume you eat the same things as a full-size dragon, but need a smaller portion. You can either eat in the corner or at the table, as you prefer.”

    Acuti preferred to eat in the corner with Amber, so only the humans gathered around the dining room table. The talk was strictly non-magical by unspoken agreement.

    After a hearty lunch, clearly intended by Fiona to be Lizzie’s main meal of the day, it was time for Lizzie and Acuti to say their goodbyes.

    As they were walking back to Lizzie’s hall of residence, she asked Acuti, “What did Fiona mean when she talked about sharing?”

    “I think she was warning me about the dangers of draconic possessiveness. Erm, Amber wasn’t prepared to share Henry, and you saw the result.”

    “Fiona doesn’t like Amber.”

    “No. I don’t think she’ll ever do more than tolerate her.”

    That evening, Lizzie was almost ready to go to bed, completely exhausted, when there was a knock on her door. It was her friend, Bethan, wanting to borrow a textbook.

    It proved a little difficult, for Acuti was lounging on Lizzie’s desk, which was also where the textbook was. Acuti got to her feet, flared her wings and hissed as Bethan approached the desk. Lizzie had to repeat that it was fine, that Bethan could borrow the textbook before Acuti backed down, curled back up in the corner of the desk, and consented to be petted by Bethan.

    Bethan left with the textbook, and Lizzie prepared to go to bed.

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  3. Cedar Sanderson pitched…

    The cat stared sadly out into the darkness

    [oh! What, pray tell, was the cat watching for, and why did it make them sad…]

    The cat stared sadly out into the darkness.

    He sighed. The birds, his little friends that sang and bounced and teased him outside the window, were all gone. Even the squirrel that liked to scurry around on the tree was gone. It was just dark and boring out there.

    Maybe mama would like a good kneading? He would have to check and see.

    He turned away from the window and the darkness out there, and bounced up the stairs. A cat’s work was never done!

    [well, it’s a snippet….maybe a foul ball?]

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  5. Leigh Kimmel offered “Well, there go my plans for the day…”
    This spoke of disasters for me, so I went with the opening to a techno-thriller I’ve been contemplating.

    It started with an accident. It was not what anyone intended on that fine October morning. It was not planned or plotted by unknown, super-powerful groups, despite the quietly expressed opinions of the conspiracy theorists. The Catholic church, the Knights of Columbus, the Illuminati were all blamed by one group or another. The Jews were happy to take advantage of it, but they were not responsible. It was, almost by definition, an act of God.
    The terror group had spent months building up their supply of rockets. As was usual for them, there were no guidance systems attached to them; they were designed to be fired en masse to overwhelm the Israelis sophisticated Iron Dome and the terminal guidance systems were too expensive, nor were there people available to pilot them. Instead, the terrorist group fired the rockets and hoped they’d hit something, inshallah.
    Of that flight of rockets, the Iron Dome intercepted 99% of them. Three of the rockets got through. Two of them landed in Jewish territory, one in a field and the other on a roadway. The third one… The third one did catastrophic damage.
    It flew out on its ballistic arc, but something went wrong with the fins and rather than fly straight, it curved slightly, arcing towards Jerusalem where it landed in the Old City. And not just in the Old City, but it scored a direct hit on the Dome of the Rock, one of the holiest sites in all of Islam, the religion of those who manufactured and launched it. Inshallah.
    The crowd in the street, at the Wailing Wall, and worshiping in the Dome of the Rock itself had little warning. Sirens went off warning of the approaching rocket, but those were normal and usually ignored.
    Some of them looked up at the streak of light crossing the sky and stared in disbelief as it came down, then through themselves flat as the warhead in the rocket belatedly exploded inside the mosque itself, blowing out the walls and causing countless casualties inside. There never was a full tally of the dead. Only God knew, in the end.
    One of the Israeli policemen picked himself up off the ground and shook his head to clear it. His ears were ringing from the aftereffect of the blast, but his training kicked in and he quickly took stock of the situation. A very detached voice in the back of his head observed, “Well, there go my plans for the day..”

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