Afterthought (Silas, Tiffany, & Ionone)
Quote from Mae on May 21, 2019, 1:32 pmThe far north-east location in Pine Valley sat directly opposite the city from the first location. Its position was nearly a two hour drive from the original - if traffic was good - across the river, and adjacent the small town of Reknab Bend a few miles east.
Here, the autumn fields glistened red from the Monvac River south to Phantom Mountain north. A steel garage sat on an island of gravel out in the middle of nowhere. Deep yellow waves of grain followed every wind across the prairie. Rich, wild grass grew nigh the stature of a man. Around the gravel island, the land slunk away into deep grooves, the ditches and perils of which were completely concealed under the shadow of the field.
The far north-east location in Pine Valley sat directly opposite the city from the first location. Its position was nearly a two hour drive from the original - if traffic was good - across the river, and adjacent the small town of Reknab Bend a few miles east.
Here, the autumn fields glistened red from the Monvac River south to Phantom Mountain north. A steel garage sat on an island of gravel out in the middle of nowhere. Deep yellow waves of grain followed every wind across the prairie. Rich, wild grass grew nigh the stature of a man. Around the gravel island, the land slunk away into deep grooves, the ditches and perils of which were completely concealed under the shadow of the field.
Quote from Adriana on May 22, 2019, 5:49 pmIf places could talk... I’d be out of a job. It was my responsibility to draw words from the wordless. I was well versed in this language. It was an easy job in some ways. Walls could only keep secrets as well as their keepers.
I began towards the old metal structure-maybe a produce shed, or hangar for a small crop duster. Judging by the height of the grass all around, it wasnt used for anything in a long time (or at least gave that impression). I could barely see over or through it- everywhere I turned there was grass, tickling my face and nose and irratating me way more than it should have.
Suddenly, I felt the ground give away below my toe and only barely shifted my balance back before I was sucked into an abyss. I froze in my place and cast my eyes down on the ditch in front of me..
If places could talk... I’d be out of a job. It was my responsibility to draw words from the wordless. I was well versed in this language. It was an easy job in some ways. Walls could only keep secrets as well as their keepers.
I began towards the old metal structure-maybe a produce shed, or hangar for a small crop duster. Judging by the height of the grass all around, it wasnt used for anything in a long time (or at least gave that impression). I could barely see over or through it- everywhere I turned there was grass, tickling my face and nose and irratating me way more than it should have.
Suddenly, I felt the ground give away below my toe and only barely shifted my balance back before I was sucked into an abyss. I froze in my place and cast my eyes down on the ditch in front of me..
Quote from Mae on May 23, 2019, 2:26 pmHad the wheat growing out of the ditch appeared an inch shorter than the rest of the field, it might have been discernible. The ditch, or trench rather, was heavily overgrown, its depth and width through roots and stalks was unknown. The only visual tell differentiating it from flat field was the aforementioned pitch of the earth. Given the thickness of the grass, the height of the wheat, and the unpredictable turn of the earth, anything could be hidden in that dark place under the field.
Had the wheat growing out of the ditch appeared an inch shorter than the rest of the field, it might have been discernible. The ditch, or trench rather, was heavily overgrown, its depth and width through roots and stalks was unknown. The only visual tell differentiating it from flat field was the aforementioned pitch of the earth. Given the thickness of the grass, the height of the wheat, and the unpredictable turn of the earth, anything could be hidden in that dark place under the field.
Quote from Adriana on June 5, 2019, 9:23 pmAlright so, there was definitely something there. Gravity did me the benifit or helping me discover that. However, what it was, how deep, or how wide... I couldn't tell. It could have been a couple of feet, my height, much larger. I briefly thought about jumping it, but if it was an old farming ditch used for irrigation, I might not clear it. And let's say it wasn't a farming ditch, and was dug for a different purpose- say, to keep werewolves from crossing... then we'd have an entirely different situation. Any number of traps could be situated at the bottom of the ditch. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I had reasonable cause for it.
I paced along the ledge of the ditch for a moment. There had to be a way across to the shed. I walked the perimeter of the ditch, around the shed, looking for anything useful...
Alright so, there was definitely something there. Gravity did me the benifit or helping me discover that. However, what it was, how deep, or how wide... I couldn't tell. It could have been a couple of feet, my height, much larger. I briefly thought about jumping it, but if it was an old farming ditch used for irrigation, I might not clear it. And let's say it wasn't a farming ditch, and was dug for a different purpose- say, to keep werewolves from crossing... then we'd have an entirely different situation. Any number of traps could be situated at the bottom of the ditch. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I had reasonable cause for it.
I paced along the ledge of the ditch for a moment. There had to be a way across to the shed. I walked the perimeter of the ditch, around the shed, looking for anything useful...
Quote from Mae on August 1, 2019, 11:26 pmEvery step was guesswork through the tall stalks of wheat, but shoes don't lie. The ground consistently sloped downward around a defined perimeter which was best to avoid, lest a sudden depth overtake the footing.
The wheat was easy to part, but the ripe autumn kernels, each sheathed in a sharp spikelet, made going through it a nuisance. Spikelets came loose with a touch, and got lodged in clothes, socks, and hair. The hazard would have been unbearable if fully furred at this season. A single shard of a spikelet hull could crawl deep into a dense undercoat, and work its way wormingly through the flesh with enough time.
Just when the stings and pricks began to feel like annoying bees, the wheat ended abruptly, and the trench was discovered to be three feet shallow depth, and four feet across. On the other side, a rugged road led to the gravel island whereon the steel garage sat. In fact, it might have even looked familiar...
Every step was guesswork through the tall stalks of wheat, but shoes don't lie. The ground consistently sloped downward around a defined perimeter which was best to avoid, lest a sudden depth overtake the footing.
The wheat was easy to part, but the ripe autumn kernels, each sheathed in a sharp spikelet, made going through it a nuisance. Spikelets came loose with a touch, and got lodged in clothes, socks, and hair. The hazard would have been unbearable if fully furred at this season. A single shard of a spikelet hull could crawl deep into a dense undercoat, and work its way wormingly through the flesh with enough time.
Just when the stings and pricks began to feel like annoying bees, the wheat ended abruptly, and the trench was discovered to be three feet shallow depth, and four feet across. On the other side, a rugged road led to the gravel island whereon the steel garage sat. In fact, it might have even looked familiar...
Quote from Adriana on August 2, 2019, 3:19 pmWheat mazes were not my favorite thing. Excluding my general paranoia about - well, about everything - I had seen precisely one too many horror movies involving a wheat field and some crows. Scary, traumatic stuff. But then again, that's what I get for sneaking into the movie theater when I was nine.
Childhood trauma aside, wheat was generally annoying. Without a way to see over it, it was easy to lose ones bearings. And it's difficult to shift in because of its nature. In your secondary form, you take for granted what the fur does to protect you, but when it's not there anymore and you're back in the flesh, and a piece of foxtail brush or wheat that has lodged itself into your ear canal or Zeus forbid, your nostril - trust me - doesn't feel good. It's designed in a way where the seed can burrow, but can't be backed out easily.
Just as I was about to turn into a madman, swatting at every piece of what that tickled my ear and poked my eye whilst cursing the heavens, it gave away to open ground. I could see the ditch. I still didn't like the ditch. It seemed weird and unnecessary.
But now, I recognized something I hadn't before. I had been to this metal shed before now. It was dark then, and there were cars parked outside. This is where the Alpha of the Calagathorm had brutally disarmed most of Harvey and his posse, and now I felt stupid for not recognizing it earlier.
With this knowledge in mind, I knew I needed to tread carefully. I scanned the area for signs of other people or cars, and when it looked clear, I carefully and somewhat superstitiously cleared the ditch in a jump, and began on the loose gravel. My eyes went to the wide metal doors of the garage first - this was likely where Harvey kept his trucks that he used for transporting his black market "goods". There was a door to the left and to the right... my eyes went first to the door on the left, there was something in front of it, and I began to approach cautiously.
Wheat mazes were not my favorite thing. Excluding my general paranoia about - well, about everything - I had seen precisely one too many horror movies involving a wheat field and some crows. Scary, traumatic stuff. But then again, that's what I get for sneaking into the movie theater when I was nine.
Childhood trauma aside, wheat was generally annoying. Without a way to see over it, it was easy to lose ones bearings. And it's difficult to shift in because of its nature. In your secondary form, you take for granted what the fur does to protect you, but when it's not there anymore and you're back in the flesh, and a piece of foxtail brush or wheat that has lodged itself into your ear canal or Zeus forbid, your nostril - trust me - doesn't feel good. It's designed in a way where the seed can burrow, but can't be backed out easily.
Just as I was about to turn into a madman, swatting at every piece of what that tickled my ear and poked my eye whilst cursing the heavens, it gave away to open ground. I could see the ditch. I still didn't like the ditch. It seemed weird and unnecessary.
But now, I recognized something I hadn't before. I had been to this metal shed before now. It was dark then, and there were cars parked outside. This is where the Alpha of the Calagathorm had brutally disarmed most of Harvey and his posse, and now I felt stupid for not recognizing it earlier.
With this knowledge in mind, I knew I needed to tread carefully. I scanned the area for signs of other people or cars, and when it looked clear, I carefully and somewhat superstitiously cleared the ditch in a jump, and began on the loose gravel. My eyes went to the wide metal doors of the garage first - this was likely where Harvey kept his trucks that he used for transporting his black market "goods". There was a door to the left and to the right... my eyes went first to the door on the left, there was something in front of it, and I began to approach cautiously.
Quote from Mae on August 2, 2019, 9:55 pmIt was the accomplishment of a keen eye to sight the bedraggled heap by the garage door. It was quite flat, and almost the same color as the asphalt and gravel. Several small weeds had even sprung up from the creases of the garage around it, among them a fair few foxtails. At first, even upon close inspection, it was indiscernible. When lifted, it was stiff and wrinkly like a dead animal - and certainly it smelled quite similar - but it had never been alive. Then the folds revealed pliability, and the cloth was stretched, albeit stiffly. It was an old, used towel. The thing might have been cast away weeks ago, perhaps months. It was weather worn, and, as attested by dark brown stains, it was dirty before discarding. The whole thing stank of stale water, mold, and human blood.
Under the towel, the ground was still moist from the last rainfall - though the rest of the world was bone dry. An innumerable host of bugs, large and small, were sent scattering when the towel was lifted, perhaps hoping to find another dark and moldy abode as accommodating as their last resort.
It was the accomplishment of a keen eye to sight the bedraggled heap by the garage door. It was quite flat, and almost the same color as the asphalt and gravel. Several small weeds had even sprung up from the creases of the garage around it, among them a fair few foxtails. At first, even upon close inspection, it was indiscernible. When lifted, it was stiff and wrinkly like a dead animal - and certainly it smelled quite similar - but it had never been alive. Then the folds revealed pliability, and the cloth was stretched, albeit stiffly. It was an old, used towel. The thing might have been cast away weeks ago, perhaps months. It was weather worn, and, as attested by dark brown stains, it was dirty before discarding. The whole thing stank of stale water, mold, and human blood.
Under the towel, the ground was still moist from the last rainfall - though the rest of the world was bone dry. An innumerable host of bugs, large and small, were sent scattering when the towel was lifted, perhaps hoping to find another dark and moldy abode as accommodating as their last resort.
Quote from Adriana on August 2, 2019, 10:42 pmUgh.
My nose twitched and face tightened at the scent of the object between my forefinger and thumb. My stomach did one of those preliminary somersaults that warned me to put it down before it did worse, and I obeyed.
I wondered if this was from that same night, but it was hard to be certain. The texture and smell led me to believe it had been a good deal of time. It could have been used in a sloppy attempt to clean up, maybe to cover a wound inflicted by that Alpha... could have even been doused in enough chloroform to knock out a horse at some point.
I raised my head and looked around at the side of the shed, where I noticed a small door and began to approach it. Even on gravel, I was silent, and coming up to it, listened. My next moves would be different depending on what I did or didn't hear-either I test the lock to see if it's open or not. In either case, I was brandishing my pistol at my left hip, one hand near the trigger, the other one tight on the grip.
Ugh.
My nose twitched and face tightened at the scent of the object between my forefinger and thumb. My stomach did one of those preliminary somersaults that warned me to put it down before it did worse, and I obeyed.
I wondered if this was from that same night, but it was hard to be certain. The texture and smell led me to believe it had been a good deal of time. It could have been used in a sloppy attempt to clean up, maybe to cover a wound inflicted by that Alpha... could have even been doused in enough chloroform to knock out a horse at some point.
I raised my head and looked around at the side of the shed, where I noticed a small door and began to approach it. Even on gravel, I was silent, and coming up to it, listened. My next moves would be different depending on what I did or didn't hear-either I test the lock to see if it's open or not. In either case, I was brandishing my pistol at my left hip, one hand near the trigger, the other one tight on the grip.
Quote from Mae on August 3, 2019, 10:11 amThe garage was silent, inside and out. The wind could be heard rolling through the wheat, and perhaps whistling through the steel creases of the shed. Nothing more...
The door was locked, and tightly.
The garage was silent, inside and out. The wind could be heard rolling through the wheat, and perhaps whistling through the steel creases of the shed. Nothing more...
The door was locked, and tightly.
Quote from Adriana on August 3, 2019, 2:01 pmI didn't think it wouldn't be locked. Harvey might be a brute, but the jury was still out on whether or not he was a complete idiot. I went back to the front of the building, and grabbed the used towel, going back to the side door. I placed the towel around the muzzle of the gun, and pressed the gun up against the latch for the doorknob. Closing my eyes and pulling the trigger, the bullet tore through the wood and metal, and I tried the knob again.
I didn't think it wouldn't be locked. Harvey might be a brute, but the jury was still out on whether or not he was a complete idiot. I went back to the front of the building, and grabbed the used towel, going back to the side door. I placed the towel around the muzzle of the gun, and pressed the gun up against the latch for the doorknob. Closing my eyes and pulling the trigger, the bullet tore through the wood and metal, and I tried the knob again.
