What costumes are the boys wearing for Hallowe'en this year? If you really want to horrify people you should dress them up as Donald Trump and Mike Pence with 2020 re-election slogans :)
Ghoulish War strode over to one of the three large rocks; it was as tall and wide as he was, and jet black shot through with silvery-yellow veins. He rested his hands on it, and grunted softly, surprised. “This is warm,” he said. He stretched, arching his back backwards until it clicked, and then reached out to the sides, loosening his shoulders. Then he grabbed as much of the boulder as he could in a bear-hug and heaved. The boulder resisted for a moment, then pulled free of the wall and scraped across the floor with a sizzling noise. “Sounds like bacon, fam,” said Famine. “Smoky bacon, I suppose.” A thin column of grey smoke, about as thick as War’s forearm, drifted upwards. It was almost perfectly straight, and it disappeared into darkness above their heads. War let the boulder rest and walked round it to see what was in the dent in the wall. “The floors on fire, Fam,” he said. “Fam!” said Famine excitedly. “You got i—” “Shut up. Come and look at this.” Famine, still grinning like a happy toddler, bounded over. He stopped next to War and looked at the floor: the rock was red hot and bubbling, and small flames licked across the surface, oddly coloured in the green light glowing from the walls. Behind it, in the dent, was more molten rock and tiny flames, but just visible through the rock itself was a humanoid shape, perhaps the size of a small child. It looked skeletal and there were bone spurs that suggested that there were either transparent wings or had been wings at some point. A sense of misery and foreboding seemed to hover in front of them, almost as though it was trying to guard something. “That was what was being hunted?” said Famine. He turned his head from side to side as though trying to locate a faint noise in a large room. “It seems… familiar?” “Calamity,” said War. “Or one of them, rather. They’re minions of Mercy, we see them a lot on the battlefields. They’re like harpies; vicious, child-like things crossed with bats and snakes to make a vaguely furry, venomous winged critter that descends of the unfortunate and denies them mercy.” “They’re ghoulish,” said Famine. “They poison wells. I’ve seen them, but they’re not mine. They’re… unclean. They just prolong the suffering.” “Exactly.” War nodded. “Whatever was here was hunting Mercy, by the looks of things.” “Still doesn’t make sense, fam,” said Famine. “There’s still something missing here.” War sighed, flexed his muscles, and shifted the other two rocks. Behind the last one was a broken doorway, almost triangular in shape now but still passable, out of which came the strongest sense of foreboding yet. “Ladies first,” said War, gesturing with a broad sweep of his arm.
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What costumes are the boys wearing for Hallowe'en this year? If you really want to horrify people you should dress them up as Donald Trump and Mike Pence with 2020 re-election slogans :)
Ghoulish
War strode over to one of the three large rocks; it was as tall and wide as he was, and jet black shot through with silvery-yellow veins. He rested his hands on it, and grunted softly, surprised. “This is warm,” he said. He stretched, arching his back backwards until it clicked, and then reached out to the sides, loosening his shoulders. Then he grabbed as much of the boulder as he could in a bear-hug and heaved. The boulder resisted for a moment, then pulled free of the wall and scraped across the floor with a sizzling noise.
“Sounds like bacon, fam,” said Famine. “Smoky bacon, I suppose.” A thin column of grey smoke, about as thick as War’s forearm, drifted upwards. It was almost perfectly straight, and it disappeared into darkness above their heads.
War let the boulder rest and walked round it to see what was in the dent in the wall.
“The floors on fire, Fam,” he said.
“Fam!” said Famine excitedly. “You got i—”
“Shut up. Come and look at this.”
Famine, still grinning like a happy toddler, bounded over. He stopped next to War and looked at the floor: the rock was red hot and bubbling, and small flames licked across the surface, oddly coloured in the green light glowing from the walls. Behind it, in the dent, was more molten rock and tiny flames, but just visible through the rock itself was a humanoid shape, perhaps the size of a small child. It looked skeletal and there were bone spurs that suggested that there were either transparent wings or had been wings at some point. A sense of misery and foreboding seemed to hover in front of them, almost as though it was trying to guard something.
“That was what was being hunted?” said Famine. He turned his head from side to side as though trying to locate a faint noise in a large room. “It seems… familiar?”
“Calamity,” said War. “Or one of them, rather. They’re minions of Mercy, we see them a lot on the battlefields. They’re like harpies; vicious, child-like things crossed with bats and snakes to make a vaguely furry, venomous winged critter that descends of the unfortunate and denies them mercy.”
“They’re ghoulish,” said Famine. “They poison wells. I’ve seen them, but they’re not mine. They’re… unclean. They just prolong the suffering.”
“Exactly.” War nodded. “Whatever was here was hunting Mercy, by the looks of things.”
“Still doesn’t make sense, fam,” said Famine. “There’s still something missing here.”
War sighed, flexed his muscles, and shifted the other two rocks. Behind the last one was a broken doorway, almost triangular in shape now but still passable, out of which came the strongest sense of foreboding yet.
“Ladies first,” said War, gesturing with a broad sweep of his arm.
Greg- yeah, if I did that I'd probably end up punching them myself...
Hmm, intriguing developments. Not sure I'd be the first through that door.
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