08-24-2019, 11:33 AM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]"- So that's why I believe the mothman was categorized as an enemy of the state. Kind of wanted to meet him though, I guess you could say I'm a long time fan." Red dissects his Twinkie like a science experiment, pulling it apart and delicately consuming its sickly-sweet innards before he moved on to another. This was a typical afternoon, now, watching the world spin and discussing things that had no meaning, no purpose in this detached world that was the Beyond. For now, the two of them were out of commission. Selby had fitted him with an improvised cast for his bad foot and bandaged the rest of his wounds, leaving him to move around town in a halfhearted hobble when he felt so inclined as to leave the confines of his home.
Today, Beck asked him to visit. He wasn’t feeling all that up for it, but whenever he said no to Beck, the kid would make a horrible face and only break his sudden silent treatment to spit names in his general direction. (Names which were, in hindsight, fairly accurate to his current state.) It wasn’t quite dusk, the sun low in the sky and the summer heat still lingering over the marshwater, but that meant most were turning in for the night and few would stop to fuss over them for leaving their homes. Beck had a box of sweets he’d smuggled from god-knows-where, Red had an unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear for the walk home, and all was well.
”Hey, look at that,” he points out idly, mouth half-full as he nods toward the sky. ”Shooting star. Or - comet? Meteor?” It was a glorious display, a thin trail of bright light dancing through the cloud cover as the object burst forth from the skies. The shape wasn’t discernable just yet, but from the looks of it the falling object seemed to be barreling towards Earth at a breakneck pace.
In fact, it was heading in their direction.
Red frowns up at the sky, at the figure tumbling from the clouds, and squints as he sits up a little to get a better view. ”Hey, Beck, that looks kind of like a - uh -” It looked like a person, but Beck would probably call him crazy if he said so. He could make out wings, and between bright flashes of light that obscured their immediate features he could make out legs and a tail. Some distant idea in the back of his head said that they ought to move, but before he could so much as stumble to his feet the light grew blinding, the figure impossible to dodge at its velocity, and the two of them were left to take what was to come.
Something hits him square in the nose and the world goes dark.
”Ugh, jeez... Beck?” He’s cold, cold like he’s never felt before in the sticky swamp heat. The throbbing in his head feels like he’s being stabbed - again. The sky’s gotten darker - he must have been knocked out for a few minutes. Red squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and rubs a hand down his face, hunching in on himself against the sudden chill that has enveloped the small group. At the sound of worried voices, he pushes himself up to get a look around.
There’s a broken body laying between them, and though he ought to be shocked he thinks that these things are becoming all the more common lately. Creatures crawling out of the depths of the sea, manifesting as lost spirits, and now crashing down from the heavens - yeah, this was a normal evening, these days. An icy touch to his wrist makes him look down; a thin thread, like silk, twists itself around his hand and then shimmers, faintly, as it fades into his skin. ”...Great,” he rumbles under his breath. The hauntings, curses and divine interventions were starting to blur together, these days. He'd try and take this one in stride.
”M’fine,” Red groans as Wormwood and Feza approach, but he winces at the sight of dark blood dripping from Velvet’s crumpled form. They... Didn’t look so great. ”Worry about that one.”
Today, Beck asked him to visit. He wasn’t feeling all that up for it, but whenever he said no to Beck, the kid would make a horrible face and only break his sudden silent treatment to spit names in his general direction. (Names which were, in hindsight, fairly accurate to his current state.) It wasn’t quite dusk, the sun low in the sky and the summer heat still lingering over the marshwater, but that meant most were turning in for the night and few would stop to fuss over them for leaving their homes. Beck had a box of sweets he’d smuggled from god-knows-where, Red had an unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear for the walk home, and all was well.
”Hey, look at that,” he points out idly, mouth half-full as he nods toward the sky. ”Shooting star. Or - comet? Meteor?” It was a glorious display, a thin trail of bright light dancing through the cloud cover as the object burst forth from the skies. The shape wasn’t discernable just yet, but from the looks of it the falling object seemed to be barreling towards Earth at a breakneck pace.
In fact, it was heading in their direction.
Red frowns up at the sky, at the figure tumbling from the clouds, and squints as he sits up a little to get a better view. ”Hey, Beck, that looks kind of like a - uh -” It looked like a person, but Beck would probably call him crazy if he said so. He could make out wings, and between bright flashes of light that obscured their immediate features he could make out legs and a tail. Some distant idea in the back of his head said that they ought to move, but before he could so much as stumble to his feet the light grew blinding, the figure impossible to dodge at its velocity, and the two of them were left to take what was to come.
Something hits him square in the nose and the world goes dark.
”Ugh, jeez... Beck?” He’s cold, cold like he’s never felt before in the sticky swamp heat. The throbbing in his head feels like he’s being stabbed - again. The sky’s gotten darker - he must have been knocked out for a few minutes. Red squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and rubs a hand down his face, hunching in on himself against the sudden chill that has enveloped the small group. At the sound of worried voices, he pushes himself up to get a look around.
There’s a broken body laying between them, and though he ought to be shocked he thinks that these things are becoming all the more common lately. Creatures crawling out of the depths of the sea, manifesting as lost spirits, and now crashing down from the heavens - yeah, this was a normal evening, these days. An icy touch to his wrist makes him look down; a thin thread, like silk, twists itself around his hand and then shimmers, faintly, as it fades into his skin. ”...Great,” he rumbles under his breath. The hauntings, curses and divine interventions were starting to blur together, these days. He'd try and take this one in stride.
”M’fine,” Red groans as Wormwood and Feza approach, but he winces at the sight of dark blood dripping from Velvet’s crumpled form. They... Didn’t look so great. ”Worry about that one.”
[div style="text-align:center;font-size:10pt;line-height:9pt;color:black;font-weight:bold;font-family:verdana;"]IF YOUR FORTRESS IS UNDER SIEGE,
YOU CAN ALWAYS RUN TO ME
YOU CAN ALWAYS RUN TO ME