Tales & Feathers Magazine

The Purpose of a Pyromaniac Descendent by Wen Wen Yang I don’t know why I expected the afterlife to be different from my beforelife.In fact, I hadn’t expected an afterlife at all. As the youngest person in dìfǔ, with no descendants, I certainly didn’t ant...

My @talesfeathers.bsky.social story is now free to read! Mind the content warnings augursociety.org/the-purpose-...

An image with a teal plain background. There is a graphic of an open book at the bottom of the image. In the middle is a white square. Inside of the square reads: “I don’t know why I expected the afterlife to be different from my beforelife. In fact, I hadn’t expected an afterlife at all. As the youngest person in dìfǔ, with no descendants, I certainly didn’t anticipate gifts. I was a first-generation American who had a vague idea of the Chinese holidays, but stopped paying attention as soon as I left home.” in black text. Beneath it reads: "Tales and Feathers Magazine — Volume 3" then there is a link symbol beside the link: https://augursociety.org/the-purpose-of-a-pyromaniac-descendent/

It’s freezing out! ❄️ Bundle up with a new story NOW LIVE on our site!

“The Purpose of a Pyromaniac Descendent” by @muteddragon.bsky.social is a hauntingly tender tale of the afterlife, family, and cultural reconnection. ✨

Read it NOW for free! 🔗 Link in bio.

I start with an intricate mycelial web that binds the new topsoil of the entire asteroid together. I have grand plans for soaring redwoods and megafauna, but I get distracted and come back to find a fungal paradise. People start calling it “The Mushroom Planet”—maddening because it’s an asteroid.

mashroom Myceli perfec t size for put human in to l\ive! Inside very Soft and Happy human sleep soundly put human in Fungus Asteroid. Put Human In Fungus Asteroid. no problems ever in funggus teroid because good Shape and Connective for human mind weak of big human individual. Amashroom Asteroid yes

"I don't get it," the captain said, "it's just grass. How many different types of grass could there possibly be?"

I could feel my team flinch. "It depends," I said, "on the site. We've got fine and tall fescues, ryegrass, bentgrass, buffalograss, bluegrass, zoysia as well as clover and yarrow..."

A variety of mosses go in first to kickstart the O2 cycle, and of course the dwarf goldenberry shrubs that luminesce in 14-hour cycles (and whose vitamin C is uniquely bioavailable for most humanoid travellers). The furred dragonflies with wings like stained glass, though, those are just for her…

Hummingbirds in jewel-tones perfectly suited to low-G. Head size flowers in all the colors of the rainbow. Dragonflies like sequined darning needles above lily-pads gene-geneered to sparkle in the tiny artificial sun above. Everything is color, and movement, and brightness. Life among the Black.

While we wait for trees to grow, we raise some tall poles and towers. We build bird houses and ledges, perfect for bird nests.

We hope the interstellar crows might take notice--they're always good friends to have, bringing treasures and shiny satellite debris across the void.

Only if they want to.

When terraforming an asteroid, you have a blank slate to build a tiny new world. Later, low-income orbital housing will be built here, or community homes for interplanetary travel, but first you have control. What flora and fauna do you coax to life on this rock?

#TinyTalesTuesday #WritingPrompt

*deep sigh* Well, I bought them from a swindler, and I should have known swindlers keep on swindling... these turn out to be runner beans (they sneak under the fence into my neighbours' gardens, swipe vegetables, and make off with them in the night)

The sheriff will be coming by tomorrow, he says

Pumpkins. Sure, they look normal, but these things were the size of tennis balls yesterday. 3 had already rotted and 1 had sprouted roots and vines. I'll be able to make all the empanadas I wish.
I am concerned about the vibes from that one pumpkin. They're growing in a weird spiral pattern.

They turn out to be toe beans. After growing hundreds of toes, they grow fuzzy feet, and ankles as thick as trees... We moved away after that. I don't know what came next, but no one goes to our old town any more.

Thank you!! 💚 I write these in about 5-10 minutes on my lunch break and don't let myself spend more time than that mulling it over too much; it's always lovely when they're well-received.

They looked like gemstones when I buried them in the soil, hoping against hope. Now the stalks grow, thick as my arm, green with verdigris. The leaves are gold, catching the setting sun, tilting to shower it carefully down the legumes.

The beans begin to sing silver notes; a tiny garden orchestra.

I go on down the road with my bagful of beans, mindful of the weather as I pass from one time to another like a cat sidling through a door. If I can fix just one famine, I will; and if I have to tell the Past Ones that nitrogen fixing is magic, that's just what I'll do.

It takes a few weeks, but the stalks curl and grow around each other, forming a doorway that sounds like laughter and song. You go through and find a dozen people working in a stone-floored kitchen, a medley of smells and voices and activity. A stooped Nonna passes you a wooden spoon, smiling.

The stem is hollow, and huge, and grows deeper into the ground than I'd believed you could go. Deeper than light. Hades deep. I prepare for the descent: backpack, and a little food, some water, a rope, and the only lantern.

Just before I start off, I mutter, "Wish I'd planted them right side up."

So you've sold your cow for magic beans. You've dutifully planted and watered the beans, kept the dirt free of weeds and built a fence to keep out the rabbits. It soon becomes apparent these beans will not take you to a land in the clouds. What happens instead?

#TinyTalesTuesday #WritingPrompt

Ooooh 👀👀

"When they're young, they're great for hauling cargo - just look at all those legs! But, once they emerge from their chrysalis, you'll have the most beautiful, luxurious riding butterfly in your neighborhood! Unlike a common, midsize moth, this here is a Swallowtail, it'll seat up to 12!"

I don’t brag about many things, but I’m proud of my jewel beetles 🪲 the wealthy flock to purchase insects with carapaces of iridescent greens, blues, and reds to pull their carriages.

I also sell raise stag beetles to sell to construction companies, but that happens from my secondary farm.

How it started: giant fireflies lighting highways without disrupting the wildlife corridors and faunal activity

How it's going: teenagers laughing at me for running down walkway gardens with the fireflies, favourite high fantasy omnibus in hand, tracing the grand map in the book through the city

She accepted the plate from S'san, who said "No need to hover, K'tak will keep both stalk eyes on them."
Tamaiti leaped from the shell of the pāpakanui, which delicately picked Boy out of the sea with one huge pincer, put him on his massive back again. She devoured the huhu grub steak on her plate.

To select the appropriate giant terrestrial isopod for your needs, you must ask which is more important to you: form or function. There’s plenty of room in a sturdy Armadillidium marsupium for the kids, but sometimes you just want the sleek beauty of a Porcellio (P. expansus not available in Europe)

Only the finest thoroughbred tiger beetles at Cicindela Farms!

Faster than the wind, shinier than a custom painted Lamborghini, and ornerier than a nest of fire ants... but we've got sixteen Beetle Cup winners so far!

Am I raising arthropods on my farm? Maybe. Maybe not.

When you drive up to my place all you see is a forest, you have to look closely to notice that half the trees are giant stick insects in formation, wearing oak leaf costumes, meditating, enjoying the peace and quiet.

“Over here, we reclaimed the wood from an old train trestle for the retirement hive,” you explain, gently scritching a dozing bumble behind its antenna. “It used to run through one of the bloom farms, and the pollen in the grain puts ‘em at ease. Otherwise, poor things just keep trying to work.”

The market for mega-arthropods is strong these days. Giant bees for cartographer mounts, giant millipedes to excavate new sewer tunnels, giant jumping spiders for rodeos. What do you raise at your farm?

#TinyTalesTuesday #WritingPrompt

On the wall, I paint a loving portrait of Laika, patron saint of unending voyages and unchangeable fates, playing amongst the stars where she, and now I, must roam.

I draw green lines in clusters of five on the wall counting down till I see the forest again. Then I paint birds free hand, fiery red cardinals and quiet bluebirds, partly because I need to look at them and partly to say goodbye. I am getting off at my home planet and I will never look back.