In reply to some of your recent comments: I will return to Isabella and Viri, probably when your prompt is especially tricky to work into the current tale. So there will be a reveal on who Viri is and what his full name is too :) And though we're focusing on War and Famine for the moment, Pestilence and Scuffles are waiting in the wings, and... there might be a trip to see what Death is up to, too.
On top of the world War and Famine waded out of the church, and splashed down the stone steps that they'd climbed to come in. Blood streamed down them like the beginnings of a waterfall, and the ground beneath the steps, where the bushes seemed to be growing fast enough to watch, was already soggy and black-looking. The two pillars that flanked the entrance to the church grounds were glowing faintly, and when you looked between them the world seemed attenuated; greyed out, blurred as though obscured by smoke, thin enough to tear a hole in. The smell of ozone was stronger out here, and it felt like thunder was on its way. "Mad as a hatter," said Famine looking for the motorcycle. "Totally teapot, stance wider than a buffalo, just the right height and no bucket required." War's lips moved as he repeated that back to himself, and anyone brave enough to be looking at the church could have seen the agonised expression on his face as he debated whether he should ask Famine what he was on about. "We parked round the back," he said at last. "Forward, oh great and wondrous leader!" War's hand twitched, but he controlled his urge to slap Famine into the middle of the next century, and stalked off. His footprints sank nearly six inches into the ground, and the grass inside them charred and died. He stayed silent and self-controlled until he was in the sidecar and Famine had started the engine, and then the words spilled out. "Totally teapot?" "Fam, like on fleek, right? A sandwich short of a picnic on teddybear day, amirite? I mean, she's got the Minecraft, sure, but does she glitter? Fam?" The motorbike rose gently up into the air as Famine pointed it back East, and as it accelerated War reached out and twisted the world around them. There was a sound like jackboots marching in formation, the fall and stamp of hundreds of human feet moving in synchrony, and Villameriel and the disaster occuring to it fell away below them. Ahead of them air so cold that icicles were already forming on War's beard was so clear that they could see the peaks of mountains that no-one had ever climbed, and below them was an endless field of snow. "Top of the world, fam,?" said Famine. He sucked in a huge breath; as his lungs inflated his ribs stood out in relief. "I thought it was just you being you," said War, his words rolling out like a the rumble of arriving tanks. "Then I realised it was her; she was shattering every oath and compact throughout that hamlet." "True," said Famine. He was shining now, hard-edged and cold, and looked as lethal as he truly was. "Villameriel, population 1." "Now, totally teapot?" "Insane, sis," said Famine. "Only it's not quite right, amirite? She's more like differently sane. She's mostly still asleep so this is all kind of a dream for her, but it's like setting a cake in front of a fat sleeper; they still reach out and grab for it." "And by fat you mean...?" "Anyone heavier than me, fam." Famine grinned, and light sparkled off him breaking into rainbows. He was becoming hard to look at. War sighed. "We'd better get back," he said. "We'll have to find this Ezcaray place and see what's happened there to wake Narusheteli. And make sure Scuffles hasn't lost my dog."
2 comments:
In reply to some of your recent comments: I will return to Isabella and Viri, probably when your prompt is especially tricky to work into the current tale. So there will be a reveal on who Viri is and what his full name is too :) And though we're focusing on War and Famine for the moment, Pestilence and Scuffles are waiting in the wings, and... there might be a trip to see what Death is up to, too.
On top of the world
War and Famine waded out of the church, and splashed down the stone steps that they'd climbed to come in. Blood streamed down them like the beginnings of a waterfall, and the ground beneath the steps, where the bushes seemed to be growing fast enough to watch, was already soggy and black-looking. The two pillars that flanked the entrance to the church grounds were glowing faintly, and when you looked between them the world seemed attenuated; greyed out, blurred as though obscured by smoke, thin enough to tear a hole in. The smell of ozone was stronger out here, and it felt like thunder was on its way.
"Mad as a hatter," said Famine looking for the motorcycle. "Totally teapot, stance wider than a buffalo, just the right height and no bucket required."
War's lips moved as he repeated that back to himself, and anyone brave enough to be looking at the church could have seen the agonised expression on his face as he debated whether he should ask Famine what he was on about.
"We parked round the back," he said at last.
"Forward, oh great and wondrous leader!"
War's hand twitched, but he controlled his urge to slap Famine into the middle of the next century, and stalked off. His footprints sank nearly six inches into the ground, and the grass inside them charred and died. He stayed silent and self-controlled until he was in the sidecar and Famine had started the engine, and then the words spilled out.
"Totally teapot?"
"Fam, like on fleek, right? A sandwich short of a picnic on teddybear day, amirite? I mean, she's got the Minecraft, sure, but does she glitter? Fam?"
The motorbike rose gently up into the air as Famine pointed it back East, and as it accelerated War reached out and twisted the world around them. There was a sound like jackboots marching in formation, the fall and stamp of hundreds of human feet moving in synchrony, and Villameriel and the disaster occuring to it fell away below them. Ahead of them air so cold that icicles were already forming on War's beard was so clear that they could see the peaks of mountains that no-one had ever climbed, and below them was an endless field of snow.
"Top of the world, fam,?" said Famine. He sucked in a huge breath; as his lungs inflated his ribs stood out in relief.
"I thought it was just you being you," said War, his words rolling out like a the rumble of arriving tanks. "Then I realised it was her; she was shattering every oath and compact throughout that hamlet."
"True," said Famine. He was shining now, hard-edged and cold, and looked as lethal as he truly was. "Villameriel, population 1."
"Now, totally teapot?"
"Insane, sis," said Famine. "Only it's not quite right, amirite? She's more like differently sane. She's mostly still asleep so this is all kind of a dream for her, but it's like setting a cake in front of a fat sleeper; they still reach out and grab for it."
"And by fat you mean...?"
"Anyone heavier than me, fam." Famine grinned, and light sparkled off him breaking into rainbows. He was becoming hard to look at.
War sighed. "We'd better get back," he said. "We'll have to find this Ezcaray place and see what's happened there to wake Narusheteli. And make sure Scuffles hasn't lost my dog."
Greg - ah, good news, that.
And yes, I may have chosen a prompt this week to... um... nudge you in Death's direction.
This was a highly satisfying follow up to your previous entry. Again, I am so pleased you agreed to go with the horsemen for an extended tale :D
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