Now I'm puzzled, this doesn't seem to follow from the other prompts so much. Although... I suppose maybe you're looking for a new suit because of something coming up and you found some good-value ones but they're all going out of style? Maybe? And... oops. I ran over the character count, but I think it's been a week since I did that last :)
Going out of style Scuffles descended cautiously, nylon-gloved hands gripping the rope tightly, his feet also gripping the rope, and his legs slightly crossed so that his knees also had purchase on it. He had a safety line attached too and was wearing a yellow helmet with a white led torch on the front, a waterproof jacket, and a rucksack filled with dried food rations and water purifying sachets. The jacket had been on sale, in the section for things going out of style, but the protection that it afforded was important to him. Each time he unclenched a hand from around the rope a sense of dread filled him, and he was conscious that all he needed to do was lean backwards a little and the ground, so far below, would start tugging on him with all the attractiveness that gravity could muster. Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Hurry up!” yelled War, his voice echoing around the cavern. Scuffles swallowed hard, wondering if the geology down here was stable enough that sound would cause a cave-in or collapse of some perfectly balanced but incredibly delicate rock structure that had waited for thousands of years for War to come along and be noisy at it. Then War shook the rope and undulating ripple traversed its length and Scuffles felt sick; the contents of his stomach rising up as the world swayed around him and he knew, knew intimately that he could go flying in an instant, torn from the rope that was the only thing getting him safely to the ground, and hurled into the air towards unforgiving rock. “I’m.” he called, and swallowed, clinging to the rope like a drowning man clinging to a broken spar. “I’m coming.” His voice was high pitched and he could taste bile and he suddenly felt like he really, really needed to go to the toilet, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered now was getting down and off this rope. He forced his fingers open again, and moved his hand half a metre down and grabbed back on. That felt better, and he almost relaxed before remembering where he was. He slid his legs down, feeling the rope rub roughly against his ankles, gripped tightly with them, and prepared to pull another hand free. “Do you think he’d climb faster if I set fire to the rope?”
Hilda barked, and Scuffles smiled, understanding that she was volunteering to provide the fire. The smile faded as he realised that that meant War might just do it, and he forced his hands to move him down another half metre. “While we wait, why don’t you look for the way out of here?” said Famine. “I thought you were the expert on this caving nonsense?” War sounded puzzled and for a moment Scuffles was too. Then he realised that Famine was deliberately distracting him, and he muttered a quiet prayer of thanks under his breath. “I read a book,” said Famine. “Does that make me an expert now, sis? I got the slaps sure, but am I a snack?” War stared at Famine, then looked at Pestilence, who shrugged. “They’re all English words bro,” he said. “I’m not sure why he’s put them in that order, but it seems to mean something to him.” “I’m War,” said War at last. Above them, Scuffled forced his hands to lower him another half metre. “I don’t get involved with anything underground. At least, I personally haven’t. I think my many-greats grandad did have a falling out with Hades once. What would I know about finding shrines buried in rock?” “True true, sis,” said Famine. “But there’s nothing down here with hunger, at least, nothing that we’re looking for. And rock doesn’t get much in the way of disease—” “Cancer,” said Pestilence. Both the other two turned to look at him, and he shrugged again. “Concrete gets cancer,” he said. “I’m not certain it’s really my domain, but I seem to have got it by association.” “Are… are there any cancerous rocks down here then?” War sounded like he was probing a rotten tooth with his tongue. “Nope.” Scuffles dropped the last two metres to the ground and tried very hard not to burst into tears and lie down and clutch a rock. “At last,” said War. “There are people down here,” said Scuffles. “They’re arguing. That’s my domain, I think.”
It. Was. Awful. How on earth did her mom think it was a good idea? Steph understood all the coupon cutting and thrift store buys; they did have bills to pay and Steph was getting closer to college. But to not look for a dress at all? To instead drag out her mom’s old homecoming dress from the 80s as if “it’ll do”? Steph wanted to tear her gaze away from herself in the mirror but, like a car crash, she simply couldn’t do it. The deep fuchsia color was bright enough to burn the eyes, and the shiny material caught the light so well she was sure to stop traffic. A large gaudy bow hung on her right hip above the three ruffled tiered skirt. The bodice was crinkled down the sides. To give the illusion of a slimmer waist? Steph wasn’t sure. But nothing could rival the football-sized puffs attached to the shoulders. Steph looked like she had three heads. This wasn’t going to happen. Screw all the penny-pinching, Steph was absolutely not wearing that dress to her senior homecoming dance. While her mom was leaning against her bedroom door, gushing over how nice she looked and how special it would be for the both of them to wear that dress, Steph was trying to come up with a plan. It was too late to get a job. Not enough time to accrue the necessary money. She knew her mother would never go for the expense. Steph would just have to go to Jake for help after all. Just what he wanted, and the thing she swore she would never do again.
4 comments:
Now I'm puzzled, this doesn't seem to follow from the other prompts so much. Although... I suppose maybe you're looking for a new suit because of something coming up and you found some good-value ones but they're all going out of style? Maybe?
And... oops. I ran over the character count, but I think it's been a week since I did that last :)
Going out of style
Scuffles descended cautiously, nylon-gloved hands gripping the rope tightly, his feet also gripping the rope, and his legs slightly crossed so that his knees also had purchase on it. He had a safety line attached too and was wearing a yellow helmet with a white led torch on the front, a waterproof jacket, and a rucksack filled with dried food rations and water purifying sachets. The jacket had been on sale, in the section for things going out of style, but the protection that it afforded was important to him. Each time he unclenched a hand from around the rope a sense of dread filled him, and he was conscious that all he needed to do was lean backwards a little and the ground, so far below, would start tugging on him with all the attractiveness that gravity could muster. Sweat broke out on his forehead.
“Hurry up!” yelled War, his voice echoing around the cavern. Scuffles swallowed hard, wondering if the geology down here was stable enough that sound would cause a cave-in or collapse of some perfectly balanced but incredibly delicate rock structure that had waited for thousands of years for War to come along and be noisy at it. Then War shook the rope and undulating ripple traversed its length and Scuffles felt sick; the contents of his stomach rising up as the world swayed around him and he knew, knew intimately that he could go flying in an instant, torn from the rope that was the only thing getting him safely to the ground, and hurled into the air towards unforgiving rock.
“I’m.” he called, and swallowed, clinging to the rope like a drowning man clinging to a broken spar. “I’m coming.” His voice was high pitched and he could taste bile and he suddenly felt like he really, really needed to go to the toilet, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered now was getting down and off this rope. He forced his fingers open again, and moved his hand half a metre down and grabbed back on. That felt better, and he almost relaxed before remembering where he was. He slid his legs down, feeling the rope rub roughly against his ankles, gripped tightly with them, and prepared to pull another hand free.
“Do you think he’d climb faster if I set fire to the rope?”
Hilda barked, and Scuffles smiled, understanding that she was volunteering to provide the fire. The smile faded as he realised that that meant War might just do it, and he forced his hands to move him down another half metre.
“While we wait, why don’t you look for the way out of here?” said Famine.
“I thought you were the expert on this caving nonsense?” War sounded puzzled and for a moment Scuffles was too. Then he realised that Famine was deliberately distracting him, and he muttered a quiet prayer of thanks under his breath.
“I read a book,” said Famine. “Does that make me an expert now, sis? I got the slaps sure, but am I a snack?”
War stared at Famine, then looked at Pestilence, who shrugged. “They’re all English words bro,” he said. “I’m not sure why he’s put them in that order, but it seems to mean something to him.”
“I’m War,” said War at last. Above them, Scuffled forced his hands to lower him another half metre. “I don’t get involved with anything underground. At least, I personally haven’t. I think my many-greats grandad did have a falling out with Hades once. What would I know about finding shrines buried in rock?”
“True true, sis,” said Famine. “But there’s nothing down here with hunger, at least, nothing that we’re looking for. And rock doesn’t get much in the way of disease—”
“Cancer,” said Pestilence. Both the other two turned to look at him, and he shrugged again. “Concrete gets cancer,” he said. “I’m not certain it’s really my domain, but I seem to have got it by association.”
“Are… are there any cancerous rocks down here then?” War sounded like he was probing a rotten tooth with his tongue.
“Nope.”
Scuffles dropped the last two metres to the ground and tried very hard not to burst into tears and lie down and clutch a rock.
“At last,” said War.
“There are people down here,” said Scuffles. “They’re arguing. That’s my domain, I think.”
It. Was. Awful.
How on earth did her mom think it was a good idea? Steph understood all the coupon cutting and thrift store buys; they did have bills to pay and Steph was getting closer to college. But to not look for a dress at all? To instead drag out her mom’s old homecoming dress from the 80s as if “it’ll do”?
Steph wanted to tear her gaze away from herself in the mirror but, like a car crash, she simply couldn’t do it.
The deep fuchsia color was bright enough to burn the eyes, and the shiny material caught the light so well she was sure to stop traffic. A large gaudy bow hung on her right hip above the three ruffled tiered skirt. The bodice was crinkled down the sides. To give the illusion of a slimmer waist? Steph wasn’t sure. But nothing could rival the football-sized puffs attached to the shoulders. Steph looked like she had three heads.
This wasn’t going to happen. Screw all the penny-pinching, Steph was absolutely not wearing that dress to her senior homecoming dance. While her mom was leaning against her bedroom door, gushing over how nice she looked and how special it would be for the both of them to wear that dress, Steph was trying to come up with a plan. It was too late to get a job. Not enough time to accrue the necessary money. She knew her mother would never go for the expense.
Steph would just have to go to Jake for help after all. Just what he wanted, and the thing she swore she would never do again.
Greg - I promise, you are the only one who keeps track of when you run over the character limit :)
Ah, Scuffles. A new favorite to be sure. And bless Famine's desiccated heart for helping him out on the way down.
And, as always, the dialogue is the best part.
Ivy - oh man, that description. I wanted to reach into the tale and start ripping bits off that dress in the hopes of making it presentable.
And then you just casually throw in that ending, leaving me wanting to know what comes next, and what happened with Jake before, and... well done :)
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