Stone… Err, Knife Soup 2 of 2

#Fanfic #WanderingWitch
#Wss366 redolent

“Now for the first ingredient,” I said as I looked about for a stone. What met my eyes were cobblestones filthy with cow manure. That would never do. Even I wouldn’t eat something made with such a foul ingredient.

I quickly opened my bag and produced… “A knife the fairies gave me,” I said. “It was used to cut the heavenly fruit served to Queen Mauve. In acknowledgment, she blessed it with the property to infuse broth with the most wonderful flavors.”

"But alas, it will just be broth—flavorful, nutritious, but thin," I said, dropping the knife into the pot with a flourish and stirred the water. "If only we had a few potatoes."

A thin woman nudged the man next to her, whispering something in his ear.

He nodded, ran off, and soon reappeared with a few potatoes. “Been saving them, just in case. But if you can feed us all, then it’s worth it.”

I took the potatoes and frowned. My knife was in the pot. "Can someone lend me a knife?"

A boy soon produced one, and the potatoes went into the pot, skin and all.

“It’s a shame,” I said. “A good potato soup requires carrots, but this will be filling even without them.”

Another farmer ran off, and soon, I had a bunch of carrots, which also went into the broth.

“Perhaps someone has some leeks or onions,” I said. “Oh, what a wonderful stew it would be with just a few.”

As before, I soon had my ingredients, as well as a head of cabbage, mushrooms, and a rutabaga.

I took a sip. "Wonderful! The flavors imparted by the knife blend so well with your ingredients. It needs only one more thing.”

I made a show of checking my robes, revealing empty pockets. “The fairies took off with my salt and pepper. What is soup without those?” They might as well take the blame, I thought, for lack of spices.

Several people turned on a man who was slightly better dressed than the rest, and I do mean slightly. “Well, Mayor?” they demanded.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said and headed off, soon to reappear with the requested items.

“I have some rosemary,” a young woman approached, offering me a sprig.

“And I have sage,” someone else said, thrusting it into my hands.

“Mm, this smells good,” I said, adding the seasoning. Indeed, the air was #redolent with the savory smell of soup.

Taking one last stir, I announced: "It should be ready by the time someone fetches bowls."

And as for me, belly full, I was content. I scooped up my knife, saying, “Your generosity fills my heart with gladness. There will be no need to erect a monument to me,” and left town.

And who was this fabulous cook? This modest genius? A procurer of ingredients from thin air and thinner peasants?

It was I, Elaina, the Wandering Witch!

#TootFic #MicroFiction #FairyTale #Mythpunk #NMFic

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 9: Post 92: 1912 Titanic

#Wss366 Lean #TimeTravelAuthors 04/15. sink/sank

Before touring the Titanic, I manifested a fashion magazine. From it, I chose a tailored mauve suit; a liberated, corsetless style; and a broad hat with peacock feathers. I still found the outfit confining but tolerable. Even though she was invisible to others, Emily selected a white “suffragette” outfit. We were quite the elegant and liberated pair: modern women willing to explore unchaperoned.

The Titanic was as impressive as the Hindenburg. It was a massive, regal dragon of steel, mahogany, heavy curtains, and even stained-glass. It was utterly unlike the dragonfly of aluminum and light cloth where I met Emily. One could imagine a disaster on a zeppelin, but the Titanic seemed too solid and magnificent to be struck by catastrophe. Indeed, it felt like the #unsinkable ship.

We stayed in the first-class section and strolled the promenade. Again, the contrast was striking: broad views of the North Atlantic from behind large glass windows versus the distant panorama through the Hindenburg’s small portals. Despite the cold sea breeze cutting through my heavy coat, the steamer’s view was more impressive.

“I want to try the food here,” I said, coming out of the wind. “But I don’t want to deal with the crowded dining room or Edwardian manners. Let’s try the Parisien.”

“We’re just tourists today, so why not?”

I ended up ordering the roast duckling and peaches in Chartreuse jelly. The first was excellent, while the grassy flavor of the second didn’t agree with me.

Emily used the ivy growing on a trellis next to our seating to sneak sips of my consommé, while I indulged in oysters and a Champagne cocktail. The drink wasn’t as sweet as the Folies’ cocktail, and certainly less ostentatious. As for the Hindenburg’s, they had spoken of elegant simplicity. The Titanic’s seemed to reach for something, but didn’t quite make it.

While I ate, we quietly discussed where to go next. I pretended to read my fashion magazine to conceal that I was talking.

I leaned toward seeking a friend, phrased perhaps like, “[i:Take us to an ally who can tell us more about the Lapin Cabal.]” Emily was pushing for a more direct approach and going to Nicosia. There was also the conservative option of performing more experiments. There was still so much we didn’t know that it was hard to decide, so we postponed the decision for a while longer.

After finishing my meal and our discussion, I suggested, “I noticed there was entertainment in the reception room. Shall we investigate?”

Emily nodded, and we left.

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri

@juliebihn

"Prolific," I like the sound of that.

#TimeTravelingGhost was started as a serial for #TimeTravelAuthors.

#Airisu is a continuation of my #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk work. The Shadow Land (Kakuriyo) has many reflections of historical Japanese eras. In this version, they are pictured as co-existing in both the present & the reflected historical era.

In both cases, the time travel element is a direct result of this hashtag.

You corrupted me.

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 9: Post 91: 1912 Titanic 2 of 2

#Wss366 Lean #TimeTravelAuthors 04/11. Point

[Continued from previous post]

I put down the first letter, picked up the second, and began reading it.

Today, I visited Dr. Faust to clarify some #points about time-travel.

I’m glad I don’t live in the Middle Ages. It was smelly and uncomfortable-looking. I wouldn’t eat anything there.

The doctor appeared only mildly surprised by my visit and proposed a question exchange, which I agreed to.

• Who or what are the ICE-Nine rabbits? He responded, “I don’t know what ICE-Nine is, but the rabbits are God’s guardians of time.” He seemed serious, though I doubted his answer. It’s more likely that they’re demonic agents. For heaven’s sake, according to that newspaper, they tortured and assassinated me.

• Have you ever tried to change history? He answered, “Unsuccessfully. I’ve tried saving my lover, Marguerite, several times, but to no avail. It takes something big to alter history.”

• Legend has it you sold your soul to Satan. What really happened? He laughed. “The devil, God—are they not the same? I have torn my soul loose from the world, but I have not sold it. I have sworn allegiance to the Illuminated Ones, and they have promised me knowledge beyond my wildest dreams. No matter what history says, I am not wrong. You should do the same before God’s wrath falls upon you.”

I stopped again. “I’m Glad we didn’t visit Faust. It sounds like he’s one of the bad guys.”

Emily waved her hand for me to continue.

There was a knock at the door just then, and my host said, “There they are now. You should leave or be prepared to swear an oath to them. God’s emissaries will show you mercy.”

I did the former. No good could come of dealing with the Illuminated Ones.

“That’s it,” I said, putting the letters down. “I guess we’ll never know how or why they murdered me.”

“Not the details, but I think you got into the soup visiting Faust. Let’s not make the same mistake.”

That was one major option out, so I suggested an alternative. “Given what has worked, I bet it’s possible to visit an opponent of the rabbits.”

“And end up meeting one of those prehistoric monsters we saw in the mural. Bad idea.”

“I wonder if saying ‘meet an ally’ would work better?”

“Might. I #lean in favor of that. But before we decide our next move, let’s get dressed and explore the ship.”

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 9: Post 91: 1912 #Titanic 1 of 2

#Wss366 Lean #TimeTravelAuthors 04/11. Point

Emily nodded in response to my question, so I began reading the first letter.

This was my first trip, so I started conservatively and jumped ahead a week to find the newspaper I needed for Professor Skully. However, time-pressure swept me all the way to April 2026. Things haven’t improved there. According to a student paper, there’s a war in the Middle East. ICE-Nine was running unchecked and was pepper-spraying protesters and killing opposition figures. The newspaper claimed that i9 was behind my murder.

MY MURDER!!!

Why didn’t you guys warn me about that? If I knew more, maybe I could avoid being killed!

I stopped reading to say, “Burned.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Emily said, shrugging. She then rolled onto her back and said, “Continue.”

I went to visit Professor Skully to learn more about my death. However, I found i9 agents in our building, accompanied by the creepiest rabbits I’d ever seen. At least you warned me about them. Rather than risk being caught, I traveled home right away.

“What do you make of that?” I asked Emily.

“You can travel into the future, but it’s unreliable. You can return to your starting #point. And that you’ve stirred up the Illuminati/Knights Templar/Lapin Cabal. Whatever we’re going to do, they want to stop it.”

“Lapin Cabal, I like that.”

“Did you notice anything else?” she asked.

“Nope, that sums it up. Oh, there was the abbreviation for ICE-Nine.”

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 9: Post 90: 1912 #Titanic

#Wss366 Fare #MastoPrompt Hesitate #TimeTravelAuthors 04/9. Will your characters admit they're wrong?

“We want to go to an unoccupied first-class cabin on the Titanic on the afternoon of April 14, 1912, unless there’ll be a disaster on board before it reaches New York. If so, take us to the Golden Spike ceremony for the linking of the two sides of the transcontinental railway.”

This wish included several experiments: 1) a very specific location; 2) a conditional; and 3) complex instructions. Theoretically, we should arrive in the American West.

That wasn’t what happened; instead, there was a ripping sensation as red lights flashed before our eyes. I gasped in pain, staggered, and braced myself against a metal wall that had appeared. We found ourselves in a white room with two single beds, a carpet, a sink, a couch, and a writing desk. The steam pipes and painted walls were far less luxurious than I had expected. Still, after the Hindenburg, it seemed spacious. The #fare for this cabin probably cost a lot, though not as much as the wood-paneled suites I had imagined.

I sank onto the couch. “So only part of that worked. That’s too bad,” I said.

Emily shrugged and flopped down on a bed. As expected, she left no impression on the white sheets.

“I need to apologize,” I said. “I wasn’t supposed to risk the rabbits spotting us.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll both feel better knowing you tried.”

I spread the letters from the cache on the couch. That was part of why I’d scared Ms. Dubois, but I was glad Emily gave me credit for having nobler intentions. In hindsight, I could have grabbed the letters and ditched the professor. I #hesitated to give myself nobler intentions.

“There are only two notes here. We’ll never know what was in the one she was carrying,” I said.

Emily shrugged.

“Shall I?” I asked, holding up the first note.

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri