After watching that video I think I can use it to found a new religion. Maybe two. And make the Hindus jealous. I've got no idea at all how you came across that, but it's definitely a good prompt, and... well, there's really only character I've got who fits the bit here, isn't there? McArthur? I checked with him. His response was "make that 14,000 bad days and we can talk."
100 bad days The penthouse was on the 100th floor and the lifts that accessed it were key-carded and camera-watched and triggered watch-alerts when anyone got into them or set them in motion. There was a roof-garden, and the gardener who took care of it was escorted up by two security guards, who in turn had to wear tiny cameras that recorded everything they did while they were up there and streamed it directly down to the building's control centre. Whose security force were rumoured to have been trained by Charles Ascuigimento. There was a stairwell, in case of very slow emergencies where people might have two hours to walk down, stopping a couple of times for refreshments or a nap, which was locked from the inside so that you could get it... but not out, unless it was a real emergency and people at the ground floor were expecting you. Bill sat on the roof terrace of the Hilton hotel across the street, and sipped coffee -- quad-espresso with a little cinnamon biscuit. Someone paying a lot of attention might have noticed that the crema on the espresso happened to form an Elder Sign, and that the cinnamon biscuit appeared to be branded by Nodens, the Lord of the Abyss. Anyone paying that much attention of course, would have turned and quietly left in as much of a hurry as they could manage without drawing attention to themselves. "I think the girl at the bar is sweet on you," said Ben. "That's the third napkin with a phone number on it you've gotten so far." He sipped a much milkier coffee and peered through a pair of slender binoculars. They were olive green and barely as big as his hand, but there was something a little off about them, as though the lenses were subtly the wrong shape. "All the same phone number?" Ben checked. "Huh, no." he said. He looked around. "There's only her and us here though, so maybe she's giving you all her contact numbers." "I'm not dating at the moment, anyway," said Bill. "I gave it up for Lent." "I thought you'd been calmer lately," said Ben. He peered through the binoculars again. "What happened to the last one?" "Digitalia? I asked Hench to take her on a date." A low throbbing started up to the West, and Ben turned the binoculars that way. "Was that nice of you?" he said. "I did tell you that girl was trouble. Her stage-name was Foxglove, after all." "I still don't see what your problem was this time. No mushrooms, no fruit-" "No building temples and training dogs to drag people into them for you-" "No-- hey!" The throbbing became a deep strobing noise, and gradually resolved itself into the beat of a helicopter in flight. "She gave you anxiety attacks and palpitations. That can't be good. What happened to Hench on the date then?" "Heart attack," muttered Bill. "He reckons it was the start of 100 bad days." The helicopter swung across the sky towards the penthouse. Through the binoculars Ben could see a long cable trailing down from it, at the end of which the Henchling clung like a barnacle to rock. "Let's hope we're wrong about what's guarding that penthouse then," he said. "Or it'll be 101 bad days."
Greg - I've gone on a bit of an AJR kick recently. It started elsewhere but when I came across that one I thought the title would make a good prompt. And that you'd get a kick out of the video :)
Ah, Ben and Bill. You're bringing back all my favorites this week!
That's a great ending image, by the way. And of course I enjoyed the back and forth about the most recent girlfriend.
2 comments:
After watching that video I think I can use it to found a new religion. Maybe two. And make the Hindus jealous. I've got no idea at all how you came across that, but it's definitely a good prompt, and... well, there's really only character I've got who fits the bit here, isn't there?
McArthur? I checked with him. His response was "make that 14,000 bad days and we can talk."
100 bad days
The penthouse was on the 100th floor and the lifts that accessed it were key-carded and camera-watched and triggered watch-alerts when anyone got into them or set them in motion. There was a roof-garden, and the gardener who took care of it was escorted up by two security guards, who in turn had to wear tiny cameras that recorded everything they did while they were up there and streamed it directly down to the building's control centre. Whose security force were rumoured to have been trained by Charles Ascuigimento.
There was a stairwell, in case of very slow emergencies where people might have two hours to walk down, stopping a couple of times for refreshments or a nap, which was locked from the inside so that you could get it... but not out, unless it was a real emergency and people at the ground floor were expecting you.
Bill sat on the roof terrace of the Hilton hotel across the street, and sipped coffee -- quad-espresso with a little cinnamon biscuit. Someone paying a lot of attention might have noticed that the crema on the espresso happened to form an Elder Sign, and that the cinnamon biscuit appeared to be branded by Nodens, the Lord of the Abyss. Anyone paying that much attention of course, would have turned and quietly left in as much of a hurry as they could manage without drawing attention to themselves.
"I think the girl at the bar is sweet on you," said Ben. "That's the third napkin with a phone number on it you've gotten so far." He sipped a much milkier coffee and peered through a pair of slender binoculars. They were olive green and barely as big as his hand, but there was something a little off about them, as though the lenses were subtly the wrong shape.
"All the same phone number?"
Ben checked. "Huh, no." he said. He looked around. "There's only her and us here though, so maybe she's giving you all her contact numbers."
"I'm not dating at the moment, anyway," said Bill. "I gave it up for Lent."
"I thought you'd been calmer lately," said Ben. He peered through the binoculars again. "What happened to the last one?"
"Digitalia? I asked Hench to take her on a date."
A low throbbing started up to the West, and Ben turned the binoculars that way. "Was that nice of you?" he said. "I did tell you that girl was trouble. Her stage-name was Foxglove, after all."
"I still don't see what your problem was this time. No mushrooms, no fruit-"
"No building temples and training dogs to drag people into them for you-"
"No-- hey!"
The throbbing became a deep strobing noise, and gradually resolved itself into the beat of a helicopter in flight.
"She gave you anxiety attacks and palpitations. That can't be good. What happened to Hench on the date then?"
"Heart attack," muttered Bill. "He reckons it was the start of 100 bad days."
The helicopter swung across the sky towards the penthouse. Through the binoculars Ben could see a long cable trailing down from it, at the end of which the Henchling clung like a barnacle to rock.
"Let's hope we're wrong about what's guarding that penthouse then," he said. "Or it'll be 101 bad days."
Greg - I've gone on a bit of an AJR kick recently. It started elsewhere but when I came across that one I thought the title would make a good prompt. And that you'd get a kick out of the video :)
Ah, Ben and Bill. You're bringing back all my favorites this week!
That's a great ending image, by the way. And of course I enjoyed the back and forth about the most recent girlfriend.
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