Hmm, my first idea seemed oddly familiar so I checked... and yes, I've used pretty much this exact theme last time you put this prompt up. But I like the characters :)
Havoc "Should you be in here, Fam fam?" asked Pestilence. He was in the kitchen in War's house and Famine had walked through the door to outside looking slightly dazed. "Sure sis," said Famine. He looked around. "This is all for show anyone, capiche?" "Capiche?" said Pestilence. "That's a bit more familiar than the slang you usually use, bro. Gnarly!" Famine laughed, a hollow, mocking sound like a gaoler pouring the starving prisoner's gruel away in front of them. "War's been messing around," he said. "I can feel the boundaries he's got, and that there's something eating away at them. Might be Scuffles, there's a fellow traveller if ever I saw one. He's bodalicious. But yeah, I think he's trying to get me locked into the eighties." "Why are you two in the kitchen?" asked Death. He was still dressed like a freshly-minted accounting grad but had tied a white apron around his waist and was carrying a frying pan. "Surely Health and Safety regulations ban you?" "Safety regulations? In a war zone?" Death grinned, which was always disconcerting. "Ah true," he said. "I suppose anywhere War lives is a war zone in technicality. I wonder what that makes my houses?" Famine considered the long house in the Valley of Death, the house like the Palace of Versailles in the Shadowed Country, and the other house that he wasn't supposed to know about and, after a few moments of trying, gave up. "Excessive?" he suggested. "Couldn't you get by with a chair in a graveyard?" Pestilence yawned and a bowl of bananas blackened nearby. "What are we all doing for Christmas?" he asked. "It's coming up again, you know. Regular as clockwork." "I thought we might go somewhere warm this year," said Death. "There's a volcano erupting in Japan at the moment." Pestilence nodded. "Ash-based lung diseases," he said. "They're making a come-back you know." Famine leaned against the stove and watched as Death cracked eggs into the frying pan. "What'chu makin', boss?" he said, his accent turning into something Brooklyn-like. "An omelette," said Death, sounding as though he was thinking of something else. "Which you can't make without breaking eggs, they say." He glared at the egg in his hand and the shell somehow became permeable and the contents splattered out and into the pan. "I disagree." Pestilence smirked. "Does that only work with eggs?" "No, it works with heads too." There was a sharp bark outside, which was followed up with much excited barking from an entire pack of hellhounds. "Cry havoc," murmured Death, "and let loose the dogs of War. Which one of you forgot to lock the kennels up this time?"
Greg - hah, sounds like a great opportunity for a continuation!
And you know I'm fond of these characters as well :)
This one is particularly delightful. The banter is quick and easy and they seem to be getting along a little better than usual. And the ending ties things up perfectly.
2 comments:
Hmm, my first idea seemed oddly familiar so I checked... and yes, I've used pretty much this exact theme last time you put this prompt up. But I like the characters :)
Havoc
"Should you be in here, Fam fam?" asked Pestilence. He was in the kitchen in War's house and Famine had walked through the door to outside looking slightly dazed.
"Sure sis," said Famine. He looked around. "This is all for show anyone, capiche?"
"Capiche?" said Pestilence. "That's a bit more familiar than the slang you usually use, bro. Gnarly!"
Famine laughed, a hollow, mocking sound like a gaoler pouring the starving prisoner's gruel away in front of them. "War's been messing around," he said. "I can feel the boundaries he's got, and that there's something eating away at them. Might be Scuffles, there's a fellow traveller if ever I saw one. He's bodalicious. But yeah, I think he's trying to get me locked into the eighties."
"Why are you two in the kitchen?" asked Death. He was still dressed like a freshly-minted accounting grad but had tied a white apron around his waist and was carrying a frying pan. "Surely Health and Safety regulations ban you?"
"Safety regulations? In a war zone?"
Death grinned, which was always disconcerting. "Ah true," he said. "I suppose anywhere War lives is a war zone in technicality. I wonder what that makes my houses?"
Famine considered the long house in the Valley of Death, the house like the Palace of Versailles in the Shadowed Country, and the other house that he wasn't supposed to know about and, after a few moments of trying, gave up. "Excessive?" he suggested. "Couldn't you get by with a chair in a graveyard?"
Pestilence yawned and a bowl of bananas blackened nearby.
"What are we all doing for Christmas?" he asked. "It's coming up again, you know. Regular as clockwork."
"I thought we might go somewhere warm this year," said Death. "There's a volcano erupting in Japan at the moment."
Pestilence nodded. "Ash-based lung diseases," he said. "They're making a come-back you know."
Famine leaned against the stove and watched as Death cracked eggs into the frying pan. "What'chu makin', boss?" he said, his accent turning into something Brooklyn-like.
"An omelette," said Death, sounding as though he was thinking of something else. "Which you can't make without breaking eggs, they say." He glared at the egg in his hand and the shell somehow became permeable and the contents splattered out and into the pan. "I disagree."
Pestilence smirked. "Does that only work with eggs?"
"No, it works with heads too."
There was a sharp bark outside, which was followed up with much excited barking from an entire pack of hellhounds.
"Cry havoc," murmured Death, "and let loose the dogs of War. Which one of you forgot to lock the kennels up this time?"
Greg - hah, sounds like a great opportunity for a continuation!
And you know I'm fond of these characters as well :)
This one is particularly delightful. The banter is quick and easy and they seem to be getting along a little better than usual. And the ending ties things up perfectly.
Post a Comment