I am feeling just a touch delicate this morning as I went to the gym both yesterday evening and today, but I'm pretty certain it's a good way to get a whole body workout in a short time. I shall consider if I want to go again tomorrow morning though :)
Spooked Famine shrugged and ducked to get through the doorway. The other side was still, cold and airless; cold enough that his breath condensed in front of him. The room was mostly in shadow, with flickering light coming from the outside where the floor still burned feebly and the rock emanated the marine green glow. He paused, all the feelings of foreboding now enhanced, and then forced himself to relax and wait for War to enter. “Fiat Lux,” said War, his voice practically a drawl. Light spilled around them, clear and white from a central point in the air, just below where a dead grey rectangle hung. Sight seemed to slide away from it as though it wasn’t there, and it was featureless and uninteresting. Fam, War, came Pestilence’s voice through into their minds. I’m with Scuff, at the bottom of the reservoir. You’ll never guess what we’ve found here. There was a note of excitement in his voice although his delivery was mostly calm. Raw firmament, sis, replied Famine. Woah bro, how did you do that? Pestilence sounded slightly spooked at the accuracy of the guess. We’ve got some here as well. In the mental communication War’s voice still somehow seemed louder and more dominant than those of the others. So who’s been leaving raw firmament lying around the place then? Pestilence sounded amused. The boss doesn’t like things being untidy War looked around, and pointed at a tiny wooden altar pushed up against the far wall. It was doll-sized and could easily have been missed if you hadn’t had unnaturally brilliant light, generated by the raw firmament itself, and were looking for it. Even though it was some distance away, neither he nor Famine had any trouble reading the symbols drawn on it. Moros, said War. Hah, someone’s constructed an altar to Doom here. That’ll please him, he doesn’t get a whole lot of worshippers. Usually just fanatical cults and they’re not long-lived by definition. Remember Waco? Moros has been leaving the firmament around, or you just happened to spot an altar? QTNA, sis, said Famine. Doom’s got the chops, but why would he want to wake the Infanta? Anything he wants doing he just turns into someone else’s job. He’s like the worst teacher you ever had. Perhaps someone is invoking him? Could the Infanta be a sacrifice for him? Scuffles’s voice was weak and slightly hiccoughy. That way madness lies, said Pestilence after they all thought about it for a moment. So what do we do? None of us can handle firmament, but it’s definitely lying around here, and it’s definitely part of the problem. We’ve got a bunch of spirits bound to their afterlife here, unable to move on. What have you got with yours? Dead calamities, said War. An Infanta that might or might not be coming back. A possible attempt to coerce Mercy, maybe somebody worshipping Doom. I’m passing this on to the boss. He’s good at getting to the heart of things. How good? Scuffles sounded curious. He’s got an entire warehouse of hearts he’s collected, said Famine. Ask him to show you sometime.
2 comments:
I am feeling just a touch delicate this morning as I went to the gym both yesterday evening and today, but I'm pretty certain it's a good way to get a whole body workout in a short time. I shall consider if I want to go again tomorrow morning though :)
Spooked
Famine shrugged and ducked to get through the doorway. The other side was still, cold and airless; cold enough that his breath condensed in front of him. The room was mostly in shadow, with flickering light coming from the outside where the floor still burned feebly and the rock emanated the marine green glow. He paused, all the feelings of foreboding now enhanced, and then forced himself to relax and wait for War to enter.
“Fiat Lux,” said War, his voice practically a drawl. Light spilled around them, clear and white from a central point in the air, just below where a dead grey rectangle hung. Sight seemed to slide away from it as though it wasn’t there, and it was featureless and uninteresting.
Fam, War, came Pestilence’s voice through into their minds. I’m with Scuff, at the bottom of the reservoir. You’ll never guess what we’ve found here. There was a note of excitement in his voice although his delivery was mostly calm.
Raw firmament, sis, replied Famine.
Woah bro, how did you do that? Pestilence sounded slightly spooked at the accuracy of the guess.
We’ve got some here as well. In the mental communication War’s voice still somehow seemed louder and more dominant than those of the others.
So who’s been leaving raw firmament lying around the place then? Pestilence sounded amused. The boss doesn’t like things being untidy
War looked around, and pointed at a tiny wooden altar pushed up against the far wall. It was doll-sized and could easily have been missed if you hadn’t had unnaturally brilliant light, generated by the raw firmament itself, and were looking for it. Even though it was some distance away, neither he nor Famine had any trouble reading the symbols drawn on it.
Moros, said War. Hah, someone’s constructed an altar to Doom here. That’ll please him, he doesn’t get a whole lot of worshippers. Usually just fanatical cults and they’re not long-lived by definition. Remember Waco?
Moros has been leaving the firmament around, or you just happened to spot an altar?
QTNA, sis, said Famine. Doom’s got the chops, but why would he want to wake the Infanta? Anything he wants doing he just turns into someone else’s job. He’s like the worst teacher you ever had.
Perhaps someone is invoking him? Could the Infanta be a sacrifice for him? Scuffles’s voice was weak and slightly hiccoughy.
That way madness lies, said Pestilence after they all thought about it for a moment. So what do we do? None of us can handle firmament, but it’s definitely lying around here, and it’s definitely part of the problem. We’ve got a bunch of spirits bound to their afterlife here, unable to move on. What have you got with yours?
Dead calamities, said War. An Infanta that might or might not be coming back. A possible attempt to coerce Mercy, maybe somebody worshipping Doom. I’m passing this on to the boss. He’s good at getting to the heart of things.
How good? Scuffles sounded curious.
He’s got an entire warehouse of hearts he’s collected, said Famine. Ask him to show you sometime.
Greg - good for you! I'm still struggling with getting back into a regular gym routine. It's headed in the right direction at least, I think.
Ah, I feel things coming together now. I am intrigued to see what comes next.
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