08-05-2019, 04:57 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]Abe is a strange fellow - more so than he appeared at first glance, which was truly saying something. He is also an excellent conversationalist.
He learns that Abe is fond of Tchaikovsky, which is as interesting as it is bizarre, given the circumstances of his underwater life. He also learns that Abe can breathe on land, which makes some amount of sense, given he has a nose as well as gills - but how he evolved to reach that point, Red could never guess. They banter lightly about life in Tanglewood and the latest going-ons that kept them on their toes. They talk about Arrow, though only briefly. Red points out the occasional landmark: the scrap yard, the edges of the crater where all life has shriveled dry. Something aches in the base of his skull as they linger on the outskirts of no man's land. Red says nothing.
"...It should be around here." There's a rotting signpost along the path, pointing towards the open mouth of the forest. Beyond, a dirt road cuts through a field of tall grasses, dotted with high-reaching weeds and the occasional small tree. Its deep tire ruts pool with water from the recent rainfall, though with the heat of the summer sun Red reasons the fields will dry up soon. He wonders if that's healthy for someone who's part fish, should Abe start hanging around here often, and figures he ought to ask sooner or later.
As they emerge from the darker woods and come up to the cresting fields, a decrepit structure comes into view - a red barn, its paint dull and peeling and its fence posts broken, but still called home to a number of feral creatures. Along the open field dot cattle and goats, an occasional chicken dustbathing among them in the wide path. It's a haven in a ruined land, and from this angle, the rest of the tainted and diseased territory is hidden behind a wall of distant trees. Anyone joining on this side of the border had a rude awakening ahead of them, for sure.
Red tilts his chin, urging Abe after him as they close the final stretch. It was a hell of a walk to get there - the territory was massive, and Abe did him no favors by staying around the swamp after he joined. One side of the border to the other covered a few hours of hiking, at least.
The barn itself is larger than he expected. Holes in the roof allow shafts of sunlight to illuminate the particles of dust that hang in the air. Puddles from the recent rain gather in patches of rotting hay, and the musty smell of animal hair (and bird shit, but Red's trying to be optimistic) permeates the space. Box stalls stretch down the length of the barn, and a rickety-looking ladder leads up to a loft. Chickens run free through the hay, crowding one another out to sunbathe where the light shines through. Red leans against the door frame; it gives an uneasy creak. "Well, this is it. I never really bothered to check this place out. Looks pretty nice, actually."
He learns that Abe is fond of Tchaikovsky, which is as interesting as it is bizarre, given the circumstances of his underwater life. He also learns that Abe can breathe on land, which makes some amount of sense, given he has a nose as well as gills - but how he evolved to reach that point, Red could never guess. They banter lightly about life in Tanglewood and the latest going-ons that kept them on their toes. They talk about Arrow, though only briefly. Red points out the occasional landmark: the scrap yard, the edges of the crater where all life has shriveled dry. Something aches in the base of his skull as they linger on the outskirts of no man's land. Red says nothing.
"...It should be around here." There's a rotting signpost along the path, pointing towards the open mouth of the forest. Beyond, a dirt road cuts through a field of tall grasses, dotted with high-reaching weeds and the occasional small tree. Its deep tire ruts pool with water from the recent rainfall, though with the heat of the summer sun Red reasons the fields will dry up soon. He wonders if that's healthy for someone who's part fish, should Abe start hanging around here often, and figures he ought to ask sooner or later.
As they emerge from the darker woods and come up to the cresting fields, a decrepit structure comes into view - a red barn, its paint dull and peeling and its fence posts broken, but still called home to a number of feral creatures. Along the open field dot cattle and goats, an occasional chicken dustbathing among them in the wide path. It's a haven in a ruined land, and from this angle, the rest of the tainted and diseased territory is hidden behind a wall of distant trees. Anyone joining on this side of the border had a rude awakening ahead of them, for sure.
Red tilts his chin, urging Abe after him as they close the final stretch. It was a hell of a walk to get there - the territory was massive, and Abe did him no favors by staying around the swamp after he joined. One side of the border to the other covered a few hours of hiking, at least.
The barn itself is larger than he expected. Holes in the roof allow shafts of sunlight to illuminate the particles of dust that hang in the air. Puddles from the recent rain gather in patches of rotting hay, and the musty smell of animal hair (and bird shit, but Red's trying to be optimistic) permeates the space. Box stalls stretch down the length of the barn, and a rickety-looking ladder leads up to a loft. Chickens run free through the hay, crowding one another out to sunbathe where the light shines through. Red leans against the door frame; it gives an uneasy creak. "Well, this is it. I never really bothered to check this place out. Looks pretty nice, actually."
[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