Your prompts sound like you're getting a little fed up with being indoors. Can you volunteer to go and plant the privacy hedge along your border with the USA in order to gently remind the madman-in-charge that he can't order anyone round with impunity?
Under lock and key The Inspectral walked through the fence as though it were morning mist, while the rest of them trooped the short way down the street to where the fence had been cut open and climbed through. Collins watched Ethel as carefully, yet discreetly, as he could, but there was still no strong indication to him if the man was alive or dead. “Who’s Tony Stubbs?” asked Adams as they started walking across the grass. The airfield would have been mown short if it were still in use, but now the grass was knee high and ankle high in square patches that suggested things buried underground. The Inspectral didn’t notice, but the others shifted their path as subtly as they could to walk through the shorter grass. Collins noted that the ground underfood often felt firmer too. “William Fulton’s best friend,” said the Inspectral. “They went to school together, they ran a business together for a while; Tony was a grocer and employed William to do deliveries for him. Then there was a big falling out that they made sure everyone knew about, so thoroughly that we were convinced it was all for show. And then William disappeared, off to the Caribbean, and Tony got arrested for enabling solicitation—” “Pimping,” said Ethel, chuckling. “He used to talk about his string of girls, and they were the sorriest bunch of hookers you ever saw. If you told me he used to pick them up and drop them off at a nursing home every day I’d have believed you.” “Thank-you, Ethel.” The Inspectral’s words seemed to shrivel the grass he was walking through. A low building, a pre-fabricated aircraft hanger had appeared to their left and the Inspectral was turning now to the right. “Tony was under lock and key for two years, maybe 22 months, and got out three days before William returned from his trip abroad. I always thought that was an odd coincidence. Then they both got involved in the Radiance. What is that?” He stopped and pointed, and so everybody else stopped and peered. “Soldiers,” said Ethel after a moment. “They mobilised already?” “No,” said the Inspectral. “Definitely not, we wouldn’t have been allowed to come here if that was the case.” “Private militia?” “No,” said the Inspectral. “I think we might have found our ghosts though.” “Oh!” Ethel shaded his eyes with his hand. “Could be,” he said, though he sounded a little doubtful. “They’re just standing around though.” “Guarding a perimeter?” Ethel shrugged. “Is that what soldiers do when they’re not killing things?” He saw the look on the Inspectral’s face. “Fine, Harold, keep your shroud on. There weren’t many skulls, so there can’t be many ghosts. Seven, I think, and I can count four up there.” “They’re expecting an approach from this side,” said the Inspectral. “Makes sense, actually, since it’s now clear they left that gap in the fence for us to find. So they’ll expect us to see the guards up there and try and find a way round, so they’ll have set a trap. We need to go straight through them then.”
Greg - nah, was trying to give you an easier prompt to work with. I think a hedge maze would be pretty effective as a border though - he'd never find his way through it.
The continuing mystery of Ethel's existence or non-existence is an enjoyable side story. The ghost guards are intriguing. I am very much looking forward to watching this unfold.
2 comments:
Your prompts sound like you're getting a little fed up with being indoors. Can you volunteer to go and plant the privacy hedge along your border with the USA in order to gently remind the madman-in-charge that he can't order anyone round with impunity?
Under lock and key
The Inspectral walked through the fence as though it were morning mist, while the rest of them trooped the short way down the street to where the fence had been cut open and climbed through. Collins watched Ethel as carefully, yet discreetly, as he could, but there was still no strong indication to him if the man was alive or dead.
“Who’s Tony Stubbs?” asked Adams as they started walking across the grass. The airfield would have been mown short if it were still in use, but now the grass was knee high and ankle high in square patches that suggested things buried underground. The Inspectral didn’t notice, but the others shifted their path as subtly as they could to walk through the shorter grass. Collins noted that the ground underfood often felt firmer too.
“William Fulton’s best friend,” said the Inspectral. “They went to school together, they ran a business together for a while; Tony was a grocer and employed William to do deliveries for him. Then there was a big falling out that they made sure everyone knew about, so thoroughly that we were convinced it was all for show. And then William disappeared, off to the Caribbean, and Tony got arrested for enabling solicitation—”
“Pimping,” said Ethel, chuckling. “He used to talk about his string of girls, and they were the sorriest bunch of hookers you ever saw. If you told me he used to pick them up and drop them off at a nursing home every day I’d have believed you.”
“Thank-you, Ethel.” The Inspectral’s words seemed to shrivel the grass he was walking through. A low building, a pre-fabricated aircraft hanger had appeared to their left and the Inspectral was turning now to the right. “Tony was under lock and key for two years, maybe 22 months, and got out three days before William returned from his trip abroad. I always thought that was an odd coincidence. Then they both got involved in the Radiance. What is that?”
He stopped and pointed, and so everybody else stopped and peered.
“Soldiers,” said Ethel after a moment. “They mobilised already?”
“No,” said the Inspectral. “Definitely not, we wouldn’t have been allowed to come here if that was the case.”
“Private militia?”
“No,” said the Inspectral. “I think we might have found our ghosts though.”
“Oh!” Ethel shaded his eyes with his hand. “Could be,” he said, though he sounded a little doubtful. “They’re just standing around though.”
“Guarding a perimeter?”
Ethel shrugged. “Is that what soldiers do when they’re not killing things?” He saw the look on the Inspectral’s face. “Fine, Harold, keep your shroud on. There weren’t many skulls, so there can’t be many ghosts. Seven, I think, and I can count four up there.”
“They’re expecting an approach from this side,” said the Inspectral. “Makes sense, actually, since it’s now clear they left that gap in the fence for us to find. So they’ll expect us to see the guards up there and try and find a way round, so they’ll have set a trap. We need to go straight through them then.”
Greg - nah, was trying to give you an easier prompt to work with. I think a hedge maze would be pretty effective as a border though - he'd never find his way through it.
The continuing mystery of Ethel's existence or non-existence is an enjoyable side story. The ghost guards are intriguing. I am very much looking forward to watching this unfold.
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