Frosted Moonwright

Tabitha slammed her laptop shut, muttering under her breath. Only bits of her words were audible in the room: “…shit dw Yasuo 0/10 powerspike no items…” “What was that, Tabitha?” asked Maisie from her perch on a nearby divan. The muttering continued, “imagine going full AP Malph and thinking you can 1v5 with a single engage…” “You’re speaking in tongues again, kiddo,” Maisie smiled. She had heard many of this type of rant after a match with a less-than-ideal outcome. It wouldn’t be long before Tabitha came back down to earth. ...

The full moon gave the empty street a somewhat eerie shade as Leah walked home. This was not a ‘nice’ neighborhood, as she well knew, but she carried herself with an athletic grace that spoke of repressed ferocity and made all but the dumbest pickpockets and muggers stay well clear of her. One of her friends had once described it by saying that Leah didn’t ‘walk’ like any other person did, she ‘stalked’ through the city, as if waiting for a reason – or excuse – to erupt into motion. Leah had to admit that it was a fairly accurate assessment, as she had – on multiple occasions – exploded into unexpected violence in response to an attempted robbery or assault. She smirked briefly at the memory of the scrubby thief’s expression on discovering that his target was much less vulnerable than previously thought. He won’t make that particular mistake again, if he’s learned anything from the experience. ...

“So,” Miranda said, twirling her wine glass, “how do you feel about trying something… different?” Liam eyed her somewhat suspiciously. Their typical evening was quiet and uneventful, just how he liked it. “I’m not really sure what you’re leading up to, babe. Are you not happy with this?” he gestured to their shared home. “It’s not that, it’s just that I occasionally want something more than the same routine every week.” When we first got together, you were spontaneous and fun. “Work and gym and sportsball and screens at night, maybe fifteen minutes of missionary once a week…” Ok, maybe it’s twenty minutes. ...

Andi sat on a small cushion, legs crossed comfortably underneath her, palms in her lap. Her calm demeanor contrasted strongly with the turmoil that was roiling inside her. She watched, silent, as the imposing woman who she didn’t know spoke quietly to her lover, Lexa. She could not hear what was said, but with Lexa’s bright eyes and partially open mouth, she could guess at least some of its contents. Lexa knew this woman, and had said that she trusted her, so Andi was willing to tag along. She has kind of a head-librarian vibe, thought Andi. I don’t think I’d want to try to return an overdue book to her. ...

April looked down at the small item in her hand as she approached her girlfriend’s door. She’d been planning this surprise for weeks, and was still a bit unsure what the reaction would be. Was it too much? Would it be taken as a joke? She didn’t let any of her worry show on her face, just in case a certain somebody happened to be watching the front door cameras. ...

Charlotte watched her roommate bounce around the flat, as always jealous of her instinctive and uninhibited expression of femininity. Polly was short for a woman, just the right amount of curvy, and just exuded this irrepressible sense of “this is who I am - if you don’t like it, you can fuck off”. Of course, Polly appeared to be entirely unaware of this embodiment, and given their past conversations, she also did not seem to understand why other women were intermittently envious of her. She had waist-length silver hair, completely natural bosom somewhere between “large” and “huge”, and a smile built to stop traffic, yet somehow she was unaware of the effect that any of these had. ...

Nikki opened the door to her flat with more of a rote despondency than she wanted. Work was hard, even the long hours did not contain enough time to get done all that was demanded of her. She knew that she was far more productive than her peers in the same level, but as the old adage so aptly described, “the reward for work well done is the opportunity to do more”. Well, she was good at her job, but promotions were few and far between, and seemed to all go to the executives’ golfing buddies instead of those more qualified for them. So she bided her time until an opportunity at another company opened up for her, and then her problems would be solved. She emphasized the last half-thought with an enthusiastic shutting of the door, and mentally shifted gears to the next set of problems for her to solve. ...

Allannia Azurewrath, seventh tier mage of the ancient elven house Glade Royal, considered the crude arcane sigils etched upon the doorway in front of her. It was a hash of low goblin and bits of archaic dwarvish runes, presumably stolen from wherever the goblins could get their hands on it. Naturally, as an elvish mage with decades of training, she could read both languages fluently, though she never deigned to speak or write either. This particular jumble had elements of protection, support, sturdiness, and alignment from the dwarvish elements, although none of these were complete. She knew Dwarvish runes were frequently centered around construction, longevity, and strength. The goblin components carried notes of anger, malice, retribution, and pain. This was also not unusual from her experience. Goblins didn’t build anything so much as destroy or repurpose, but this was their nature, and so Allannia felt no disdain for it. Still, the runes, as makeshift as they were, were presenting an effective obstacle to her progress. ...

When Kira opened her eyes, she was a bit fuzzy on exactly where she was or how she’d gotten here. She briefly surveyed her surroundings, trying to divine any clues about her current circumstances. It was a somewhat generic-looking room, but had some angled ceilings in the corners. An attic, maybe? she wondered. She was on a surprisingly comfortable mattress with some tasteful sheets. The room was warm and well-lit, and she spotted some other portable light fixtures against a far wall. A private studio or playroom, perhaps? ...

Maya entered her favorite stretch of the woods with a bounce to her gait that mirrored her good mood. Finally, after all the stresses of the week, she got some time to herself. The old-growth trees felt welcoming to her, their branches reaching high into the sky as if celebrating something. They were drinking in the sunlight and fresh air in a way that she longed to imitate. The rolling hills made her think of very slow waves, and briefly imagined them flowing back and forth in her mind’s eye. She’d made a point to dip her hand into every stream she’d crossed, and loved the fields and meadows for their softly flowing grasses and wildflowers. The time simply flew by as she floated from one location to the next. Hiking here was as close as she could usually manage to feeling one with nature, but today, she had some additional plans to let herself truly feel free. ...

As she heard the downstairs door close, Sydney reviewed her situation. The lights were dimmed and a couple pleasant-smelling candles were lit. The pleasant ambient heat was making the linen sheets feel cool on her skin. And she had a lot of skin exposed to it, too. She had removed all of her clothing about twenty minutes before, in order to set the mood for her wife’s arrival. “Syd? You home?” Alyssa called out while setting her things down. ...