Any particular escapade inspiring this, or is it more of an ambition? ;-)
The escapade Check the corners murmured Death’s cold voice in their heads, and War and Famine both shivered. The connection between them all dropped, and the walls of the shrine suddenly felt very close. The darkness, something that they both ignored as irrelevant most of the time, was suddenly oppressive, and despite their unnatural abilities, it proved resistant to their eyes. “Corners, sis? What corners are there in a round room?” War gestured, and when that did nothing, snapped his fingers. When that also did nothing, and sounding tetchy, he muttered, “Fiat Lux.” Still nothing happened. “Bloody Moros,” he said. “He’s doomed this shrine to darkness, hasn’t he? Can you create a dearth of darkness, by any chance?” Famine shook his head. “Darkness is the absence of light,” he said. “I can’t create a famine of a famine, fam. You’ll just have to let the light in from outside.” “Stops at the door now,” said War. He cursed. “Fine, we’ll do it the old-fashioned way?” “We?” “We both start here and grope our way around until we meet again and see if we can find whatever the boss thinks is here.” “This is a bit undignified, fam. Can’t we borrow a mortal from upstairs and have them do it?” No murmured Death’s voice, seeming this time to emanate from the floor. Moros has doomed the shrine to isolation as well. He is… both thorough and efficient. “That means we haven’t got very long before the shrine starts trying to kick us out,” said Famine. “I hate dealing with Incarnates, it’s so damn hard to remember how to avoid all their various powers. Remember that escapade we had when Pest tried to give Dionysus a fungal infection and we all ended up drunk for a month and a half?” “Get searching,” said War. “I don’t want to find out how the shrine intends to preserve its isolation, thank-you. Remember the Calamities we found outside?” There were several minutes of mostly silence, the only interruptions being soft cursing when one or both of the Incarnates found sharp rock edges, old mouse droppings, or, for Famine, a pool of sulphurous water. As they neared each other again, War stopped suddenly and coughed. “You ok, fam? QTNA, amirite?” “I think I’ve found it.” War’s voice was oddly quiet. “Them, rather. In fact, I’m sure of it. Let’s leave.” “Fam?” “You’re fam, Fam,” said War. He sounded tired; instead of the usual brassy notes in his voice there were the sullen trumpet tones of Retreat, the sound of tired feet not quite keeping in time on the march, and a smell of unwashed mercenary suddenly filled the room. “I’m War. And we have… this.” Outside the shrine, in the room still blazing with light from the walls where the Calamities had been crushed, War held out his hand and Famine looked at a collection of broken, silvery threads shot through with red capillaries. “Oh dear,” said Famine, for once as quiet and subdued as War. “That’s the kind of catgut you get from a certain kind of vampire.” “Oupir’,” said War.
2 comments:
Any particular escapade inspiring this, or is it more of an ambition? ;-)
The escapade
Check the corners murmured Death’s cold voice in their heads, and War and Famine both shivered. The connection between them all dropped, and the walls of the shrine suddenly felt very close. The darkness, something that they both ignored as irrelevant most of the time, was suddenly oppressive, and despite their unnatural abilities, it proved resistant to their eyes.
“Corners, sis? What corners are there in a round room?”
War gestured, and when that did nothing, snapped his fingers. When that also did nothing, and sounding tetchy, he muttered, “Fiat Lux.” Still nothing happened. “Bloody Moros,” he said. “He’s doomed this shrine to darkness, hasn’t he? Can you create a dearth of darkness, by any chance?”
Famine shook his head. “Darkness is the absence of light,” he said. “I can’t create a famine of a famine, fam. You’ll just have to let the light in from outside.”
“Stops at the door now,” said War. He cursed. “Fine, we’ll do it the old-fashioned way?”
“We?”
“We both start here and grope our way around until we meet again and see if we can find whatever the boss thinks is here.”
“This is a bit undignified, fam. Can’t we borrow a mortal from upstairs and have them do it?”
No murmured Death’s voice, seeming this time to emanate from the floor. Moros has doomed the shrine to isolation as well. He is… both thorough and efficient.
“That means we haven’t got very long before the shrine starts trying to kick us out,” said Famine. “I hate dealing with Incarnates, it’s so damn hard to remember how to avoid all their various powers. Remember that escapade we had when Pest tried to give Dionysus a fungal infection and we all ended up drunk for a month and a half?”
“Get searching,” said War. “I don’t want to find out how the shrine intends to preserve its isolation, thank-you. Remember the Calamities we found outside?”
There were several minutes of mostly silence, the only interruptions being soft cursing when one or both of the Incarnates found sharp rock edges, old mouse droppings, or, for Famine, a pool of sulphurous water. As they neared each other again, War stopped suddenly and coughed.
“You ok, fam? QTNA, amirite?”
“I think I’ve found it.” War’s voice was oddly quiet. “Them, rather. In fact, I’m sure of it. Let’s leave.”
“Fam?”
“You’re fam, Fam,” said War. He sounded tired; instead of the usual brassy notes in his voice there were the sullen trumpet tones of Retreat, the sound of tired feet not quite keeping in time on the march, and a smell of unwashed mercenary suddenly filled the room. “I’m War. And we have… this.”
Outside the shrine, in the room still blazing with light from the walls where the Calamities had been crushed, War held out his hand and Famine looked at a collection of broken, silvery threads shot through with red capillaries.
“Oh dear,” said Famine, for once as quiet and subdued as War. “That’s the kind of catgut you get from a certain kind of vampire.”
“Oupir’,” said War.
Greg - I think I heard the word somewhere. In a song or a commercial maybe?
Clearly I am now too old to remember things from more than a week ago.
Jeez, you managed to get me worried about War and Famine's safety there. That's no easy task.
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