"Dimitri, what are you doing?"
The red hologram - which currently resembled one of the frilly-dressed girls that seemed to be everywhere nowadays - looked down at Sean.
"I'm installing lasers," she replied.
Sean sighed. He really wanted to go back to bed. Sakuya had been woken up by the banging noises, and Sakuya had a way of channelling her displeasure at him in subtle ways.
"Why," he asked, "are you installing lasers into the mansion at 2 in the morning?"
"Marisa."
Sean's brow furrowed. "Marisa?" Then recollection emerged from the sleepy fuzz of his brain. "Oh, you mean the girl that keeps beating Meiling in fights?"
"Yeah, and coming in and stealing stuff and being a total bitch." There was a fizz of sparks from within the contraption attatched to the corner of the ceiling. "Well, let's see her waltz in when sixty thousand degree plasma death is pointed at her."
Sean arched an eyebrow. "Did Remilia give you permission to do this? Not that I care what she thinks, but modifying her home is -"
"She pointed me towards the scrapyard, buddy."
Sean tried desperately to cast his mind back to Christmas, where there was mistletoe and eggnog and food and presents and everything was slightly pink because Sakuya was being extra romantic. It seemed a very long time ago now. He'd like another day of that, and not this. He was starting to get cold.
"I don't think Meiling would like this," he said.
The tinkering stopped. "What?"
"You waking everyone up at 2 in the morning." Sean left "trying to fight her battles for her" unsaid.
There was a pause.
"In fact," Sean added, hoping Dimitri wasn't using his eyes at the moment, "I think that's her coming down the corridor right now."
Dimitri, expression fearful, vanished in a blur of red pixels. Sean nodded, and went back to bed and Sakuya. Snuggles were good.
---
A small town's Christmas was ruined when they woke up to find their town Christmas tree knocked over, the decorations torn and "inhale my dong santa" burned into the baseball diamond. There were also a lot more empty bottles of alcohol lying around than usual.
They blamed it on travellers, but without conviction.
---
The campfire was the only source of light.
"- back of the knee, boy. The Swine have weak legs, you see. Try it!"
The young man concentrated as he gripped his hands around the remnants of the schackles that danged from his body. With a grunt, he swung a length out, down low, and hit the leg of the dummy with a dull thunk.
"Good!" A heavy gauntlet patted him on the back. "Again. We'll see you get it down right before we turn in, or my name isn't -"
"We're going to die down here."
She turned away from watching the two men, old and young, and focused on the girl. Swaddled in her vestements, clutching her holy tome to her like a shield.
"And what makes you say that," she asked.
The girl stared blankly at her. "You know. You saw, back there. I mean, people eat pigs, yes?" A giggle crept into her voice, wild and unhinged. "So, so obviously the pigs eat -"
The slap came and she regretted it the moment it landed. Old habits died hard. The girl stared, eyes wide and cheek red.
"With that kind of talk we WILL die down here,' she hissed. " we're on our last set of firewood and our packs only have food for a few days. The last swine we fought cut the boy up badly. If you lose your fool senses now, nobody can heal him."
The girl's eyes shone in the firelight. Too harsh, perhaps. A crack of wood made their heads turn to see the ragged, chained boy beaming and the dummy's leg amputated.
"Look," she said. "I won't let anything happen to you down here. The Swine are not the worst horror we've seen here. We will make it."
The girl's voice was faint. "Promise me?"
"I promise you, S -"
"AMBUSH!" The old man roared, lionesque. His mace flashed into the night, there was a sick crunch, and a twisted, bloodied body fell into the light of the fire. In the dark beyond came squeals. Metal glinted. Red eyes leered.
The party drew weapons as, once again, the Swine fell upon them.
Tuesday 29 December 2015
Saturday 12 December 2015
Inferno
Midway upon the journey of our life,
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
The diner door's chime had broken a long time ago, so it took the thudding footsteps to alert the waitress to the new customer. She turned around.
"Hi! Welcome to-"
Her best smile faltered. The new entrant was ten feet tall, and had semi-crouched in order to get their enormous bulk sideways through the door. The light struggled through the stained windows to gleam on their golden armor. The waitress dimly recalled a medieval fair her mother had takenn her to as a child, and seeing two men in shining armour pantomiming their roles as knights. This... person's armor put them to shame. Two electric blue points of light looked down at her as it approached.
"Um," she managed. Did this thing even eat?
The boots banged on the tiles as it approached the counter. It stopped and regarded her.
"Hello," it said. Its voice was like a musical chime, from far away. Her mouth was suddenly dry.
"Hi," she replied. "Welcome to Bert's Diner! Uh, What can I get you?"
The thing looked up and down the scarlet counter. Nobody else was here - the Kobbers had left the city for the rest of the year, and it was off holiday season anyway, so most people had headed home. All that was left were the empty red seats and the dust starting to collect on the road signs and registration plates adorning the walls. The TV suspended on one wall was tuned to a NBN music channel - some vaporwave track that had never left the charts.
"I would like," the figure chimed, "a cheeseburger. And a chocolate milkshake."
The waitress nodded and hurried into the kitchen. The figure looked around the dying restaurant again. Its eyes fell upon a potted plant on the end of the diner counter, a bonsai that was reaching the end of its life and patience.
Half an hour later, the waitress came back with a plate in one hand and a tall, cold glass in the other. Her eyes fell, briefly, upon the small tree. It was in full bloom, with small red flowers bursting from the end of the branches. She glanced at the figure, which was still standing at the counter, and briefly wanted to ask him two questions at once.
"Here you go," she said instead, voice full of fake joy as she set the plate and glass down. "Enjoy your meal!"
"Thank you," it said.
She went to the end of the counter and pretended to polish it, watching as it lifted golden gauntlets to the helmet, flicking unseen catches open and lifting the helmet off.
It was like a midnight sky.
She wasn't quite aware how long it was before the figure finished, put the helmet back on and paid for the meal. She recalled only a midnight sky, and the rustle of its broken wings as it left the diner.
"Ah, this looks fabulous on you! The cut really brings out your shoulders!"
Bored.
Tak-Sin paid for the dress and left the store. The mall blared Christmas at him. His heels clacked on the tiles as he passed brands, offers, toys, cheer.
Bored.
He pulled out his phone. No texts from James. The wallpaper was of the two of them at a theme park.
Bored.
He wondered if this was what it was like to die. Stillness, nothing happening or developing. No current flowing. Oh, James was nice - as much as a mostly physical relationship could be, anyway. James was cute, fluffy, inoffensive. They shared similar tastes in clothing. He was easy to keep happy. He was insufferably boring.
He looked up and saw something interesting. There was a young man in clothing that was probably out of fashion when his punk rocker idols had gotten married and had children. He was hunched over a laptop, squinting, fingers flying like fish amongst the reef. People, for some reason, weren't noticing him.
Interesting.
Tak-Sin walked up behind the man and watched silently over his shoulder for a while. He didn't understand any of the words. He did understand the part where the man appeared to take ten thousand dollars from someone. It was hard to miss. Whoever had made that program had wanted the user to know exactly what they were doing. He quickly placed a hand on one shoulder and leant over.
"Well done," he whispered into the man's ear. He froze up, staring straight ahead and hands hovering above the keys. Tak-Sin kept talking.
"I don't need to know what you're doing to know it's stupid," he continued. "You're in a public place. The only reason you've not been caught is that the guards here aren't paid enough for the hours they work and don't dislike you enough to investigate. If I shout, you'll be in jail. Nod if you understand."
The man, face pale, nodded.
"Now then." Tak-Sin leaned a little closer. "Would you kindly direct me to whoever hired you? I'm in need of a job."
Old coin. Confederate. Battered from time and travel. Feels solid in the hand.
Flip.
Tails. Hah.
Old gun. Revolver. Not a common service weapon in the military. Six bullets. Five chambers empty.
Point at head. Pull -
Jonesy waited until the echoing in her head had stopped and her brain and skull had regenerated.
"Shit," she muttered, and slammed the gun on the kitchen counter. Then she went to fix herself a whiskey.
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
The diner door's chime had broken a long time ago, so it took the thudding footsteps to alert the waitress to the new customer. She turned around.
"Hi! Welcome to-"
Her best smile faltered. The new entrant was ten feet tall, and had semi-crouched in order to get their enormous bulk sideways through the door. The light struggled through the stained windows to gleam on their golden armor. The waitress dimly recalled a medieval fair her mother had takenn her to as a child, and seeing two men in shining armour pantomiming their roles as knights. This... person's armor put them to shame. Two electric blue points of light looked down at her as it approached.
"Um," she managed. Did this thing even eat?
The boots banged on the tiles as it approached the counter. It stopped and regarded her.
"Hello," it said. Its voice was like a musical chime, from far away. Her mouth was suddenly dry.
"Hi," she replied. "Welcome to Bert's Diner! Uh, What can I get you?"
The thing looked up and down the scarlet counter. Nobody else was here - the Kobbers had left the city for the rest of the year, and it was off holiday season anyway, so most people had headed home. All that was left were the empty red seats and the dust starting to collect on the road signs and registration plates adorning the walls. The TV suspended on one wall was tuned to a NBN music channel - some vaporwave track that had never left the charts.
"I would like," the figure chimed, "a cheeseburger. And a chocolate milkshake."
The waitress nodded and hurried into the kitchen. The figure looked around the dying restaurant again. Its eyes fell upon a potted plant on the end of the diner counter, a bonsai that was reaching the end of its life and patience.
Half an hour later, the waitress came back with a plate in one hand and a tall, cold glass in the other. Her eyes fell, briefly, upon the small tree. It was in full bloom, with small red flowers bursting from the end of the branches. She glanced at the figure, which was still standing at the counter, and briefly wanted to ask him two questions at once.
"Here you go," she said instead, voice full of fake joy as she set the plate and glass down. "Enjoy your meal!"
"Thank you," it said.
She went to the end of the counter and pretended to polish it, watching as it lifted golden gauntlets to the helmet, flicking unseen catches open and lifting the helmet off.
It was like a midnight sky.
She wasn't quite aware how long it was before the figure finished, put the helmet back on and paid for the meal. She recalled only a midnight sky, and the rustle of its broken wings as it left the diner.
"Ah, this looks fabulous on you! The cut really brings out your shoulders!"
Bored.
Tak-Sin paid for the dress and left the store. The mall blared Christmas at him. His heels clacked on the tiles as he passed brands, offers, toys, cheer.
Bored.
He pulled out his phone. No texts from James. The wallpaper was of the two of them at a theme park.
Bored.
He wondered if this was what it was like to die. Stillness, nothing happening or developing. No current flowing. Oh, James was nice - as much as a mostly physical relationship could be, anyway. James was cute, fluffy, inoffensive. They shared similar tastes in clothing. He was easy to keep happy. He was insufferably boring.
He looked up and saw something interesting. There was a young man in clothing that was probably out of fashion when his punk rocker idols had gotten married and had children. He was hunched over a laptop, squinting, fingers flying like fish amongst the reef. People, for some reason, weren't noticing him.
Interesting.
Tak-Sin walked up behind the man and watched silently over his shoulder for a while. He didn't understand any of the words. He did understand the part where the man appeared to take ten thousand dollars from someone. It was hard to miss. Whoever had made that program had wanted the user to know exactly what they were doing. He quickly placed a hand on one shoulder and leant over.
"Well done," he whispered into the man's ear. He froze up, staring straight ahead and hands hovering above the keys. Tak-Sin kept talking.
"I don't need to know what you're doing to know it's stupid," he continued. "You're in a public place. The only reason you've not been caught is that the guards here aren't paid enough for the hours they work and don't dislike you enough to investigate. If I shout, you'll be in jail. Nod if you understand."
The man, face pale, nodded.
"Now then." Tak-Sin leaned a little closer. "Would you kindly direct me to whoever hired you? I'm in need of a job."
Old coin. Confederate. Battered from time and travel. Feels solid in the hand.
Flip.
Tails. Hah.
Old gun. Revolver. Not a common service weapon in the military. Six bullets. Five chambers empty.
Point at head. Pull -
Jonesy waited until the echoing in her head had stopped and her brain and skull had regenerated.
"Shit," she muttered, and slammed the gun on the kitchen counter. Then she went to fix herself a whiskey.
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