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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 24: Episode 2: 1937: The Hindenburg Part J

#Wss366 #TimeTravelAuthors 29. Masks (literal or figurative).

“So, are you going to help me? Getting those papers to the right people is important. We can’t let the Nazis get mind-reading first. I wish I’d handed my papers off in Germany,” Emily said, staring unseeing out the observation window.

I looked out at the clean blue ocean instead of answering. We were high enough that I couldn’t see whitecaps, and ships were dots. There was no land visible, and there wouldn’t be any until we got to New Jersey.

“Let’s sit,” I said. “I need to think.”

We walked back to our table, and I flagged the steward down. I ordered a whiskey sour and drank it and studied the #art on the walls while thinking. Emily sat across from me, drumming her fingers in eerily soundless impatience.

“Yes, I’ll help,” I said, putting down the empty glass—the cherry at the bottom staring up at me—“but realistically, there is only so much I can do.”

She nodded, but her wrinkled brow delivered a mixed message.

“I know people survived,” I said, getting to business. “Where were you during the explosion?”

Emily grew pale, and her lip trembled. “It’s hazy. I remember the fire and screaming in agony. It was awful.”

“Sorry for making you remember this stuff,” I said. “Unfortunately, I have to know.”

“It’s alright. I’m asking for your help. But I don’t remember where I was.”

I didn’t beat around the bush. No matter how I said this, she wouldn’t like it, so I jerked the band-aid off with one motion. “I don’t think I can save her.”

“You said you’d help!”

“Listen. Provided I convince Ms. Pang and she convinces the captain—both unlikely—where would Ms. Pang get off? I hate to be blunt. You wore the mask of a journalist, but as a spy, you knew the risks.

Emily stiffened at my statement.

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Princess (Wind Head) 王女様(風頭)

Mao Rescues Mia (猫救助ミーア) Part 2

#FanFiction #TheApothecaryDiaries x #TearmoonEmpire
#Wss366 7/28

*** Maomao ***

“You’re not a Norn, are you?” the woman asked. “Never mind, I can see you’re not.”

Had she landed on her head or if she had wind in it, Mao wondered.

“Just Maomao. No clan, Norn or otherwise.”

“Are you hunting mushrooms? I was thinking of doing that, since my horse ran off,” the woman resumed. Then began searching her clothes. “#nuts I had some praline nuts. Nuts, I ate them.

“Mushrooms? You’re a mushroom hunter?” Mao left unspoken the more pressing question: “Who hunts mushrooms on horseback?” Still, if the woman truly knew her fungi, perhaps she was worth accompanying. People with Spirit Disturbance were seldom dangerous, at least to others. She eyed the woolly outfit again.

And if she really had struck her head, Mao could monitor her.

“Oh yes, I’m an expert. My name is Mia Luna Tearmoon.”

Sequel to: "The Norns" pixiv.net/novel/series/14017710

Part 2 of 8: To be continued.

#TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#薬屋のひとりごと #ApothecaryDiaries
#LightNovel #Manga #Anime #Fantasy
@fanfiction

pixiv「The Norns (ノルン)」/「NaraMoore ⛩️八尺様」のシリーズ [pixiv]Lost in the woods, Mai Lune Tearmoon has rabbit stew with the Norns.
Continued thread

#wss366 #MastoPrompt

Return to the FATE GEAR

Chapter 9: Hoist yer spoons

#FanFiction #OthersidePicnic #FateGear

Captian Mina paced the Fate Gear’s deck, which always #sloped so Mina was going uphill. Sorawo could imagine the ship silently chuckling to itself. Periodically the captain checked a large brass compass #finished to the umpteenth degree of shine, huge altimeter (shiny), and massive steam-powered sextant (blazing brilliantly).

Finally finished pacing, satisfied they were on course, she turned to her navigator. “Tell the lasses that grubs up.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Yuri said while her fingers flew over the keyboard.

(“Hoist yer spoons, lassie. Benimori got vittles for you in the mess,”) Fate Gear announced. A shrill train whistle screamed, signaling the same. “Get yer vittles on!”

Nana took over command as the captain walked toward the mess.

Nana’s first act was to turn on the Otherside pair lounging at the railing, mops motionless. “And you two bilge rats, wash yer hands and help Benimori serve. Look smart or you’ll feel a kiss of the Bosun’s cat.”

Toriko and Sorawo hurriedly complied and dashed off to help Benimori.

“Take these,” Beni said, handing enormous pots of warm, rich-smelling stew. “If you spill any of it, the ship will have your carcass for dinner.” Beni grinned as she waved a huge spoon.

“That’s not very pirate,” Toriko observed.

Beni lost her smile. “Let’s see you do better.”

“Slop any of this swell, I’ll be keelhauling a pair of deck rats before you can say ‘drunken sailor,’” Toriko supplied.

Beni whistled in appreciation while Sorawo rolled her eyes.

“These two deck rats better be getting this swell to the mates or the cap be slitting our sails,” Sorawo joined in.

The other two’s mouths dropped, and they stared at Sorawo. For a moment, it looked like Toriko would drop the pot she held, and Beni’s spoon wavered in the air.

Toriko was the first to recover. “Now ye be talking like a pirate, matey.”

#TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #UraPiFanFic #Metal #JMetal #Satire #PoliticalSatire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG
@fanfiction

Replied in thread

Princess (Wind Head) 王女様(風頭)

Mao Rescues Mia (猫救助ミーア)

#FanFiction #TheApothecaryDiaries x #TearmoonEmpire

*** Maomao ***

The girl landed with a thump. Maomao noted the unusual, fluffy riding outfit the woman wore. “An excellent choice for a novice rider,” she said to the small #arched stems of the “Yín Yáng Huò” she was examining, its anchor-shaped leaves faintly brushing her #shin. “The question is, did the bulky outfit work?” If the woman had been hurt, helping her would be a lot of trouble; however, didn’t Mao have a duty to help her?

It was a question to consider seriously. Her father had followed his conscience, and look where that got him—the tendons removed from his knee for doing his best to save a baby of imperial birth

She sighed. As much as it pained her, helping was the right thing and probably wouldn’t have such dire consequences. Parin would have to make do with the “Raunchy Goat Medicine”—as Parin called it—the apothecary had already gathered.

Rain pattered around her, its rhythm deepening as she neared the fallen woman. The wind sighed low in the grass. If Mao had been superstitious, she would have thought it said, “You’ll be sorry.

The day had begun badly and was getting worse. First, she’d been called out on mysterious business in the country. Next, the carriage in which she had been riding had thrown a wheel, and now this woman. The rain; however, didn’t bother her. She was hoping to spot Zhu Ling, Fang Feng, or Tu Fu Ling. She preferred to dig them when the soil was soft after a rain. The last of those was always popular at her shop, a sovereign cure for men’s sores of shame.

It might be a profitable day. She had already found some Mu Tong along the road. And yes, she was sure it wasn’t Guan Mu Tong; only a novice would make that mistake.

As the young apothecary approached as the woman sat up. “Are you hurt?” she asked.

The woman paid no mind, looking after her horse. “I can’t believe a horse betrayed me.”

Why the woman wasn’t thrown more often, Mao asked herself. Considering her supine riding posture, she did not seem an experienced rider. Instead of saying that, she asked again, “Are you hurt? If not, I have herbs to gather.”

“I’m fine. But thank you for asking,” the woman replied.

Mao studied her. Her smile was innocent. She was healthy with ample flesh, a surplus even, clearly not poor. One didn’t get that weight on a poverty diet unless you were ill. Her padded clothes were unusual. She resembled a chimera: part human and part sheep. They were well-tailored and had properly protected the woman.

Well, if she was alright, Mao could get on with her herb gathering. As soon as they repaired the carriage, she would need to leave.

Part 1 of 8: To be continued.

Sequel to: "The Norns" pixiv.net/novel/series/14017710

#TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#薬屋のひとりごと #ApothecaryDiaries
#LightNovel #Manga #Anime #Fantasy #botany #SliceOfLife

pixiv「The Norns (ノルン)」/「NaraMoore ⛩️八尺様」のシリーズ [pixiv]Lost in the woods, Mai Lune Tearmoon has rabbit stew with the Norns.
Replied in thread

#TimeTravelingGhost Part 23: Episode 2: 1937: The Hindenburg Part I

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 7/25. Jewelry and fashion in your story.

“I didn’t see any rabbits when I was alive,” Emily began. “There was no warning of a problem, just suddenly there were flames. My last wish before I blacked out was to go back and warn myself. When I came to, I was no longer on the Hindenburg; instead, I was in Frankfurt on the day I’d left.”

The first thing I tried was speaking to her in her hotel room. I remember standing in front of the door, frustrated that I didn’t have the key. I gave the door an angry shove, and to my surprise, my hand went through it. That’s when it really hit me: “I’m a ghost.”

“It’s tricky going through things, but I managed to enter the room.

“There I was, putting on a long blue…” Emily began, and I waved my hands for her to get on with it. Clothing wasn’t what I was interested in. I wanted to know about Nazi rabbits and mind-reading studies.

“Anyway, I tried talking to her, but she couldn’t hear me. I was #nagging and yelling at her by the time we reached the lobby, and that’s when I saw them. There were two rabbits dressed—the way you saw—in those awful black SS uniforms, talking to the ‘kind’ officer who had ‘volunteered’ to drive me to the aerodrome.”

“I didn’t know if they could detect me, so I made myself inconspicuous. I wasn’t getting through to her anyway.”

“All I could do was drift along above the car, following them to the Hindenburg. It felt like floating through a movie scene, #severed from reality.”

Wow, Emily is one adaptive person.” I hadn’t tried any of those things: passing through walls, floating, flying, and God knows what else.

Emily continued her story. “When we got to the aerodrome, there were two more rabbits. I don’t know if they were the same ones. They had the same black uniforms and death-head insignia. They watched me—her—board the Hindenburg. My driver nodded to a rabbit, a major, and they also boarded. I don’t know how many are on the ship, but at least three.”

“That’s the story. You saw me trying to talk to… myself. Oh, and I tried possessing myself with no luck.”

I thought I understood, despite the tangle of “I”s and “me”s. But for the future, I said, “It will be easier for both of us if you refer to your living self as ‘her’ or ‘Ms. Pang.’ And you”—I pointed at her—“as ‘I’ or ‘Emily.’ Is it all right if I call you Emily?”

She nodded.

Replied in thread

#TimeTravelingGhost Part 22: Episode 2: 1937: The Hindenburg Part H

Prompts: #Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 7/23

“Let’s go look out the observation window,” I said. I needed to think about the rabbit hole I’d fallen down, a hole complete with ghosts, time travel, vampires, mind-reading, and now Nazi rabbits. Each a #symbol of how far I had fallen. And, as if that god-awful hodge-podge of impossibilities weren’t enough, I had a dozen other questions. Who or what controlled this time-travel business? Should I get involved with Ms. Pang? Would she really be a good travel companion—wait, I hadn’t stipulated “good,” only that she could be a travel partner. Folklore said wishes were tricky, more likely to bite you than befriend you.

I sighed and put the questions out of my mind. It was pointless to speculate about this time-travel business or even who I was. I had no information. The same was true for this woman. She “could” be a travel companion, and only time would reveal if I wanted her to be.

I found a spot at the window that wasn’t near anyone. Outside, #water spread as far as the eye could see. A few boats dotted the surface, but they were shrinking. “We must be rising,” I thought. Using a soft voice, I said, “Okay, tell me about the rabbits and the papers. Then I will tell you if I’ll help.”

“You’re not on their side or a communist, are you?”

“I don’t know who ‘their side’ is, but I’m not a Nazi or fascist. I don’t think I was a communist. It bothered me when you casually called Mademoiselle Baker a communist. She was a symbol of freedom, not tyranny. So I might have been a liberal. If you’re worried I’ll betray you, forget it. The worst that happens is I jet to another time and let you worry about the ship crashing.”

She nodded. I’d learn that was a habit. “I was a colonel in military intelligence, and no cracks about there being no intelligence in the military.”

That stung until I took into #account my “late for dinner” joke.

“I worked very hard to be promoted and am the highest-ranking woman in the intelligence service. My employer, the Arkham Daily Star, plays along. I was in Germany investigating some top-flight American psychologists who’d taken jobs in Heidelberg. I discovered they’d been hired for top-secret work researching mind-reading. Awful stuff, using human test subjects. It’s too gruesome to talk about—trepanning and electrodes, that sort of thing.”

I didn’t point out she was already talking about it. I was just glad she moved on.

“They must have caught on because they revoked my press card and hinted unpleasant things might happen to a nosy woman if she didn’t leave the country. I had all my notes with me, and I think that’s why they sabotaged the ship. Those papers must get to US intelligence.”

“And the rabbits?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

Sometimes, I think... I just wish there was some sort of hardware that does X Y or Z, that would make things so much simpler...

Most recently, I was wishing for a #Serial adapter with a tiny screen, and sure enough...

crowdsupply.com/excamera/termd

... someone was listening... or thinking the same thing, but with more follow-through...

Very excited!

This would be very useful for the various #LinuxPhones or my #MNTReform ... which are just quirky enough to occasionally need portable serial access.

Crowd SupplyTermDriver 2A better USB-to-serial adapter with a built-in screen
Continued thread

Now some folks may say: "Why don't you just get a regular-ass #AUI like a #NormalPerson?"

1. Simply because noone but the most tech-masochistic folks want to deal with like #coax cables, #VampireTaps, huge #MAUI boxes and rare vintage stuff + overhead to get a slow & underwhelming network experience. Pretty shure neither @ncommander nor @TechTangents would either.

2. The few late-era #10BaseT-based AUIs do exist but they are long out of production and thus quite expensive. And if you are on #10Base2 or even #10Base5 good luck finding a still working #switch that isn't sold by a #scalper like #ersazza way above #MSRP+#inflation!

3 An AUI is just an Interface port / media converter similar to #SFP & GBIC and necessitates a NIC already inside the machine.

4. AUIs are not just long outdated but also way more inflexible, whereas basically anything from an #Apple2 up to the latest #Android-#Tablet can be adapted cheaply to do #RS232 #serial and send AT commands to a #Modem.

5. Twisted-Pair Ethernet is cheap, commonplace and still supported and pretty much forwards- and backwards compatible. 10BaseT will run on Cat.3 but also on Cat.5 and even Cat.8 cables (In case one wants to hookup a vintage computer on a 40GBase-T port for no reason but to see if the switch does negotiate proper 10Base-T.

6. Because it's useful...

7. as said before: AUI port would be nice to have but not necessary...

8. it would allow Network access similar to #dialup abeit without the need for existing #PSTN infrastructure like @c3isdn has...

Continued thread

It would also be a more flexible option not just for "dumb #terminals" like a VT320 or VT525, thus desireable for a lot of #legacy / #embedded setup and allow for integrating like a #serial #console into a "Managment LAN" (which should be #airgapped!)…

  • Also an #EthernetModem would really be a cost-effective option compared to proprietary solutions, espechally when one can make a #DINrail-mounted version.

So yeah, a #LAN232 / #Ethernet232 would be kinda cool, even if it's just a #PiZero 1.3 with a USB Serial & Ethernet Chip in a case.

Replied in thread

#TimeTravelingGhost Part 21: Episode 2: 1937: The Hindenburg Part G

#TimeTravelAuthors 19 Saturday excerpt (optional word: line)

Emily’s mistake was forgetting that if you say to someone “don’t look,” they, of course, will.

I slowly turned my head, as if finding a waiter to order another drink. In the lounge doorway stood a rabbit. I think of rabbits as cute, but this one was anything but cute. It was roughly the size of a twelve-year-old and wore a Nazi SS uniform. The unfastened holster revealed the grip of a Luger. After discovering I could time travel and meet a probable vampire, a Nazi rabbit shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

I turned back to Emily and mouthed, “Oh.”

She said, “I’ll tell you later. Watch me… The other me.”

Ms. Pang, the living one, was cheerfully talking to her friend. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the rabbit make a bee-line for her. It stopped next to her and appeared to be listening. After a minute, it turned around and left the lounge.

Once it was gone, Emily spoke again. “I don’t know what they are, but they’ve been following her ever since she got on the Hindenburg. That’s another reason we need to warn her. I was carrying some important papers that burned in the crash.”

The pronoun switch threw me briefly. It must be strange talking about yourself that way. But was easier to understand if she spoke about her live self as like another person.

“Do you want to tell me more, or is it a secret?”

“It’s a secret, but I guess I can tell you. It’s notes on the German’s research into mind-reading.”

I sighed, mind-reading. What next, alien abductions?

I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!

Today, Diego has his own encounter with Brad… and a couple other ghosts from his past…

jscottcoatsworth.com/serial-do

#RiverVity #CircleofFriends BlogSerial #Magicalrealism #Serial

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 20: Episode 2: 1937: The Hindenburg Part E

#Wss366 #TimeTravelAuthors 7/13. Most famous person in your story.

We sat staring uncomfortably at each other. The polite chatter in the Hindenburg’s lounge did nothing to ease our awkward silence. Ms. Pang picked up the Champagné cocktail and took a drink.

“Wow, I drank that. It never occurred to me I could eat or drink,” she said.

“You probably shouldn’t. They’re all staring.” With my sudden change of clothes and a floating Champagne glass, we’d made quite the spectacle.

I stood up, took a bow, and announced in a loud voice, “My show opens next week on Broadway. I hope to see you there.” It was probably gauche, but it covered up our various mistakes.

“That was clever,” Ms. Pang said. She had put the glass down and didn’t pick it up again. “Let’s start again. I’m Emily Pang, but you can call me Emily. I’m—I was a reporter. The Nazis revoked my press card, so I was traveling home. In a few days I’m going to die, burn—n… I don’t want to think about it. It was horrible.”

“I’m sorry.” No pointless comfort. What else could I say?

“I’m Luminelle Bijou. You can call me whatever you want except ‘late for dinner.’” The joke fell flat, but it got a grimace, which was an improvement from the distress I’d seen on her face.

“I’m new to this ghost business,” I said, “so there isn’t much I can say about it. Nor can I tell you about my living self. I have no memory of my life. Not even my name. It was Mademoiselle Josephine Baker who christened me Luminelle Bijou.

“She’s quite famous. A communist.”

“I think you’re confused. She’s a patriot and helped us against the Nazis, no matter what Walter Winchell says.” en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_W

“I’m sorry. I should know better than to repeat gossip. Though I thought Mr. Winchell was her friend.”

I thought for a moment. “I’m getting my timelines confused. The war and Walter Winchell’s slander are in the future.”

“Oh, you’re from the future? Interesting… I wish I could see what happens. Does everyone end up with personal gyrocopters, that kind of thing?”

I almost spit out my drink. At first, I thought she said ‘gyno-copters,’ which would be a very different invention. One I wouldn’t mention in mixed company.

“But tell me, who else famous have you met?”

“I may have met Elizabeth Bathory and Camilla Karnstein.”

Emily looked blank.

“One is famous for bathing in blood, and the other is a vampire from a novel.”

“You do have charming friends,” Emily said.

Josephine Baker is it, but I’ve thought about visiting Joan of Arc and Amelia Earhart.”

“You’d like Mrs. Earhart. She is a pleasant person. Delightful, but she’ll talk your leg off about aviation.”

Emily began smiling. I liked it. Her face lit up, and her eyes sparkled. They were almost cobalt blue at the moment. The smile faded, and she whispered, “Don’t look, but THEY are here.”

en.wikipedia.orgWalter Winchell - Wikipedia
Replied in thread

@lea TBH, I think it's a fundamental mistake that vendors use #RJ45/ #8p8c connectors for #RS232.

UnFUG Mastodon4censord :nfp: (@4censord@unfug.social)@lea@lea.pet but serial over rj45 is amazing, then i can patch it through to my desk instead of going down to the network closet
#rj50#rj48#10p10c
Continued thread

#wss366 #MastoPrompt 7/12

Return to the FATE GEAR

Chapter 8 Crystal Showers

#FanFiction #OthersidePicnic #FateGear

“Make yourselves useful,” Captain Mina barked, looking at the Otherside pair. “Swab the deck.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Toriko roared, throwing up a sharp salute.

Shards of the crystal spheres lay all around and would have lacerated the busy crew’s feet, if not for their heavy, thick-soled boots. Sorawo would’ve called them clunky punk shoes or just clunkers, and Toriko thought of them as “cool and emo.” Either way, they spared the crew damage from the glass on the deck.

(“As well as being cool and emo,”) the Fate Gear commented, à propos of nothing.

Now that the Fate Gear was #flying through the ether, the ship was quieter. The creak of timbers, snap of canvas, and sharp orders of the bosun’s mate masked the anti-grav generators’ gentle hum.

Toriko’s energetic swabbing, combined with Sorawo’s lackadaisical help, sent cascades of crystal sloshing overboard. The resulting sheets of shooting stars lit up the sky and were long remembered as the legendary Tik-Tok Shower, named for the Tik-Tok of Oz constellation it came from.

As they finished, Mina approached. “You be real swabbies now. Can either of you swing a cutlass? Play a guitar? Drum?”

Guitar? Drum?” Sorawo thought. Then “Why those?” slipped out.

(“Metal-powered steampunk.”) the ship answered. (“You best start believing in steampunk settings, Miss Sorawo—you’re in one.”)

Toriko started speaking, “Back in Canada, I…”

But Sorawo didn’t give her a chance to finish. Who knows what she’d say or what predicament she’d put them in? “No, none of those.”

“Any fantastic abilities: raging, berserk, kung fu, or spidey sense? Anything like that?”

“I can touch unreal things,” Toriko said.

Sorawo winced.

“And I have this.” Toriko pulled out a SIG Sauer P220.

“You’re not a eunuch, are you?” Mina raised an eyebrow, smirking like it was a private joke. Then, without missing a beat: “And you, swabby?” She turned to Sorawo. “Do #tell.”

Yuri glanced up from her console. “Got a tambourine, if that helps.”

Sorawo looked between the three of them, lifted her hands in surrender, and said, “Sorry. We were going to a party.”

“Ship, have Benimori bring this swabby the ‘Thunderbolt’ she used last time.”

(“Aye. It’s not quite rum, but it’ll do.”)

Mina ignored Fate Gear’s latest snark and addressed the adventures. “When we attack, climb the rigging and give my crew fire support. If there are aerial opponents, they’re your priority.”

Sorawo gulped, looked up at the rigging, her face green. “Aye, aye, Captain.” Her voice was a squeak next to Toriko’s prior roar

“You’re not a eunuch, are you?” Toriko smirked, eyes glinting. Her face all but said, “This is a day I’ll always remember—the day we almost got Sorawo to act like a real pirate.

#TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #UraPiFanFic #Metal #JMetal #Satire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 19: Episode 2: 1937: The Hindenburg Part D

#Wss633 & #TimeTravelAuthors 7/11 Romance/love triangle?

“The Hindenburg,” I repeated. “And that’s not your sister, but you?”

I took a sip of my Champagne cocktail while I put my thoughts in order. I savored the taste to settle my mind. The drink was simple but elegant, not quite up to the ones at the Folies Bergère. There, they rimmed the glass with vibrantly colored sugar crystals and poured with flair. This had been served politely, without fanfare. That kind of flourish would have clashed with the quiet elegance of the Hindenburg. It was a fine drink, fitting for the airship.

Emily stared at me. “You drank that?”

“Yes, try yours. It is quite good.”

“No, you’re a ghost and you drank that!”

I hadn’t thought about it, but I couldn’t remember any stories about ghosts drinking. Didn’t Buddhists even make a big deal out of how some ghosts drank and ate but could never feel nourished? That must relate to why I stayed inebriated for so short a time. The first part, not the bit about the hungry ghosts. I found the light fizz and warmth of the drink very satisfying.

I shrugged in reply. “So it seems.”

“And your clothes, they aren’t very appropriate.”

True, they were 21st-century casual: jeans and a short brown sweater dress. They must have passed as a costume at the Folies Bergère. I imagined myself in a dress matching Emily’s and wah lah I was in period attire. I #add(ed) a black pearl necklace for flair.

“Don’t do that!” Emily hissed. “You’re putting on a spectacle.”

“My bad.” She was right, of course. Doing things like that where I could be seen wasn’t clever. “This ghost thing is all new to me.”

“I’m new to ghosting and even I know that was stupid,” she added.

I’d wished for a travel companion, and I guessed Emily Pang was it. Not that she was romance material. Heavens, no. I like other women that way, but sharp-tongued women never appealed to me. Besides, she wasn’t even my type. I would just help her and then ask her if she wanted to do some traveling. That’s all.

Replied in thread

#TimeTravelingGhost Part 18: Episode 2: 1937: The Hindenburg Part C

#TimeTravelAuthors 7/5 Loops 7/9. POST-SIZED snippet (Word: sky)

The standing sister repeated herself, “You can see me.” This time it was a statement rather than a question. The seated sister remained oblivious to us.

I studied them again as I decided how to act. They were more than sisters. If they’d stood side by side, I'd not have been able to tell one from the other, except that one wore white and the other mauve.

I nodded and walked over. “Yes, I see you.”

The seated sister looked up, lips pursed. “Excuse me? Were you talking to me?”

The standing one took my arm. “You must help me, please.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

The seated woman’s eyebrows pinched. “Neither do I. Now, please stop bothering us, or I’ll call a steward.”

“Come, please,” the other woman pulled on my arm and pointed to an unoccupied table. “Let’s talk over there.”

We were barely seated when she began speaking. “I’m Emily Pang, and you might not believe this, but I’m a ghost. That’s me sitting over there. I’m still alive, and I have to warn myself—them. But you think I’m crazy, don’t you? Ghosts, who believes in ghosts? I don’t—didn’t. But it’s true, I’ll be dead in a few days...”

I held up my hand to stop the torrent of words. “I…”

The woman rushed ahead. “...If you would explain to them. I must save them. Please. It’s crazy, but…”

“Stop!”

She shut her mouth with an almost audible snap.

I kept my hand up while I studied her. She looked to be in her forties. Plain, but with a touch of class that her white linen dress accented. Its long lines made her appear taller, but I guessed she was of mid-height. I couldn’t see her hair because of one of those bucket-like hats popular during the Great Depression. Her #sky-blue eyes, almost indigo, were her most outstanding feature.

A steward appeared, perhaps summoned by my raised hand. He gave me an odd look when I ordered Champagne cocktails for the pair of us, but he took the order without comment.

When he’d left, I spoke. “I believe you. I’m a ghost too. Luminelle Bijou, that’s my name.” I almost blushed remembering Mademoiselle Baker.

I would have continued, but she launched into speech again, “Then you must have died here too.”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Actually, I don’t know where here is.”

“The Hindenburg, May 3rd, 1937, on the 6th I burn to death!”

The Hindenburg crash. I’d picked a wonderful spot to appear.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hindenbu
#TootFiction #Serial #NMPrompts #NMTTA

en.wikipedia.orgHindenburg disaster - Wikipedia