Re: The Delicious Engagement [Round 0: Do Something Interesting]
05-31-2010, 05:21 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Nodge.
Tim looked around, trying to think, trying to catch his breath. Mad God? Another one? He was frightened now, not that he'd admit it, but soon he'd be furious. He didn't like being caught, and following orders was even lower on his list of priorities. Quietly, he frowned and thought hard about escape, but could not think of anything encouraging. The Eccentric beast had dragged him to a place which most certainly not the welsh foothills, and he had no understanding of how to return. This was god stuff, the kind he'd been trying to avoid recently for the sake of a quiet head. Still, he knew he was out of his depth on this one which only left one option. He straightened up, touched his hand to the torc around his neck and whispered a short prayer to Lugus. Silence greeted him, which he responded to with curses and a slightly more complicated prayer to the God King Bodb Derg. This time, he got something of a response; a gentle pressure as the Red Crow impeded on his mind. Tim always found this unsettling and this unease was accentuated by Bodb Dergs' accompaniment; the sound of his sobbing children and the scent of burning feathers.
"Great King of Tuatha Dé Danann," started Swhales, playing up to Bodb Dergs' enjoyment of formality "I have been abducted by a thing that calls itself a God, an-"
The pain came hard and fast. Swhales sank to his knees, the ground around him cracking like cake frosting under pressure. His eyes squeezed shut, he saw imprinted on the lids the thousand faces of his adopted Gods. They receded to a corner of the blackness; depicted now was his own face underneath the cylindrical head of The Eccentric, a being immeasurably greater than he. A voice like sharpened wings roared straight to the centre of his mind.
HE IS A GOD. YOU ARE IN HIS LAND. DO NOT SHAME US WITH COWARDICE. OBEY.
The pain was gone as quickly as it had arrived and the pressure of the God left, leaving Tim curled in a shallow depression in the ground, surrounded by scattered fronds of still-smoking crow feather.
After a minute, he dragged himself to his feet, wiping at his eyes. The others were already clustering into groups; he saw the Door man standing over what looked to be the detective, who was clutching a broken bolt in one hand. He grinned. Someone taking potshots at the law man? Maybe someone was moving at his speed after all.
As he started walking shakily over to them, it occurred to him that the loot from the Gwyddic manor was still in the street outside the abattoir. Damn, that was supposed to buy him lunch.
Tim looked around, trying to think, trying to catch his breath. Mad God? Another one? He was frightened now, not that he'd admit it, but soon he'd be furious. He didn't like being caught, and following orders was even lower on his list of priorities. Quietly, he frowned and thought hard about escape, but could not think of anything encouraging. The Eccentric beast had dragged him to a place which most certainly not the welsh foothills, and he had no understanding of how to return. This was god stuff, the kind he'd been trying to avoid recently for the sake of a quiet head. Still, he knew he was out of his depth on this one which only left one option. He straightened up, touched his hand to the torc around his neck and whispered a short prayer to Lugus. Silence greeted him, which he responded to with curses and a slightly more complicated prayer to the God King Bodb Derg. This time, he got something of a response; a gentle pressure as the Red Crow impeded on his mind. Tim always found this unsettling and this unease was accentuated by Bodb Dergs' accompaniment; the sound of his sobbing children and the scent of burning feathers.
"Great King of Tuatha Dé Danann," started Swhales, playing up to Bodb Dergs' enjoyment of formality "I have been abducted by a thing that calls itself a God, an-"
The pain came hard and fast. Swhales sank to his knees, the ground around him cracking like cake frosting under pressure. His eyes squeezed shut, he saw imprinted on the lids the thousand faces of his adopted Gods. They receded to a corner of the blackness; depicted now was his own face underneath the cylindrical head of The Eccentric, a being immeasurably greater than he. A voice like sharpened wings roared straight to the centre of his mind.
HE IS A GOD. YOU ARE IN HIS LAND. DO NOT SHAME US WITH COWARDICE. OBEY.
The pain was gone as quickly as it had arrived and the pressure of the God left, leaving Tim curled in a shallow depression in the ground, surrounded by scattered fronds of still-smoking crow feather.
After a minute, he dragged himself to his feet, wiping at his eyes. The others were already clustering into groups; he saw the Door man standing over what looked to be the detective, who was clutching a broken bolt in one hand. He grinned. Someone taking potshots at the law man? Maybe someone was moving at his speed after all.
As he started walking shakily over to them, it occurred to him that the loot from the Gwyddic manor was still in the street outside the abattoir. Damn, that was supposed to buy him lunch.