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Sep. 27th, 2024
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amiserablepileofwordsNote: This is a repost-as-is of the second part of an ongoing serial story starring My Favourite Fictional Daughter first posted to Cohost on the 14th of September 2023 when a make-up-a-starship-pilot prompt that read "Starship pilot who sprung a leak" sparked... a Lot more Berry.
At time of reposting, the first volume is not complete yet (6 of 8 chapters written), and I can't promise a release schedule for it. Sorry.
BR247516-I "Berry" sat quietly, unobtrusively, on a bench, engrossed in the goings-on of the main concourse level of Mars Central. Her operative Kyra had told her she had a surprise for her, so she waited patiently for her return.
The concourse of a major artery for intersystem travel was a new experience. Overwhelming. An incredibly busy, noisy and colourful spectacle. Ever shifting, ever changing. She could sit here watching it raptly for hours. So many beings. So chaotic. But also so ordered. Patterns within patterns within patterns. Fascinating.
So many naturalborn, more than she'd ever seen, strode to and fro. Stopping to buy things from the various little kiosks, or hurrying to catch their flights. Greeting relatives and old friends. Making new ones. She'd also seen some of her siblings from other gene-lines flit past. Lithe UP-S ones, dodging and weaving through the foot traffic, carrying urgent messages. At least two loaders crewed by a heavier UP-C had passed by her position, trying to swim against the steady stream of bodies. And she was sure she'd also spotted some willowy TR-Ys, taking notes as they trailed their corporate bosses. It was all so very interesting, quite unlike anything she'd encountered before.
Her observations were rudely interrupted, and she looked up into a man's face.
Good neighbours
Sep. 27th, 2024 08:57 pmamiserablepileofwordsNote: This is a repost-as-is of a piece posted to Cohost on the 18th of September 2023 in response to a prompt by Story-of-normal-GuyGal that read: "Normal GuyGal who looks really butchy working on a car"
The apartment door slammed open, and Elaine filled the doorway like a vengeful Roman goddess, sporting the most bedhead ever beheld by woman. "What?!" she growled. "It's 6 in the god-damn morning! Nothing can be this important!" She looked down, and further down, until she finally found the monster that had awoken her at this ungodly hour. The bone-weary sigh that was about 80% yawn did... interesting things to her sleep tank.
Her downstairs neighbour Brittany smiled up, blinking innocently. "I'm so sorryyyyy, but my car won't start, and I really can't be late to work. Pleeeeeease?"
"Again?" the network specialist grunted dubiously.
"Sorry."
A long, considering pause while Elaine scratched herself. Another deep sigh. "Fine. I'll take a look." She spotted Brittany's pleased grin. "Next time, you're taking that piece of junk to an actual garage, okay? Or calling roadside assistance."
"Yes! Whatever you say! Thank you so much!" Brittany was bouncing with glee, like a Golden that'd just heard the word "walkies".