Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Things to Think About While Pulling Weeds

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    Mortis
    Petabyte

    Petabyte

    Posts : 893
    Join date : 2014-03-22
    Location : Deadworld
    Level : 60

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    Things to Think About While Pulling Weeds

    Post by Mortis on Sun May 08, 2016 10:59 pm

    Time: 1:30 PM
    Date: May 3, 0006

    The country life was not so bad.

    There were rolling hills for miles around, nary a person to be seen across the great expanse and hardly a sound of bustle or hustle. Instead, there was only the whisper of a gentle spring breeze as it tussled the long grasses, urging them to undulate like lush green waves. Every so often a raven's rough croaking could be heard further off, accompanied soon after by a brief, hoarse chorus closer to the treeline. Above fluffy white clouds meandered across a cerulean sky, and below...

    Decay traveled across the fields in a wide, gristly trail.

    Clawed feet crushed and decayed the greenery beneath, producing a soft crunch as their owner walked along. Although, his footsteps were also accompanied by heavier, ponderous thuds. Heavy hooves walked along behind Mortis, the decayed horse that called him her master puffing every now and again. A third, energetic and youthful, happily pranced about, her black cloven hooves springing against the earth as she bounded with them. no sweaters covered her tiny form, as today was warm enough she could run around and play without one. Mortis himself was coming back from the fields further out on the property, the top part of his uniform unzipped and tied down around his hip bones. In his arms the ghoul carried a mound of cut roughage and weeds, his snout forced to tilt up in order to see over the pile. Though his load was only a small portion compared to what Angemort carried in the make-shift baskets upon her back, and in the small cart she pulled behind her. They had cleared out most of the fields earlier yesterday of thick, coarse weeds, today was merely finishing up what they had started.

    Gently tapping against the ghoul's hip was a buzzing portable radio, tied securely to his belt and the channel tuned to a local newstation. Earlier a news-lady had been talking about the weather, and now had switched over to a man who was talking about the week's events. Naturally the slew of deaths that had been reported to the country news station had been brought up first.

    Forty deaths in the past week, fifteen permanent, and not a clue about the killer's identity. That was enough to bring a satisfied chuckle from the superfiend's skull as he ambled on. Although, he grew quiet as the anchor went on.

    "...We have received numerous tips as to what the killer looks like from those who have managed to recover from the attacks, but they are varied. The most common description we have gotten is that it is very tall, and has shiny black skin, with a very pale, skeletal face. The killer tends to strike at night, and does not seem to be harmed by bullets." There was an audible gulp as the anchor grew to the end of his description. "T-there is good news, as a group of locals are planning to host a meeting later this month to decide how to best fend off this murderous entity."

    Mortis' tail curled around and pushed the volume up a little more. Perhaps they would say where the meeting would take place?

    "The group will have more details about the meeting later on, and encourage everyone who lives in the area to join them and contribute... On a happier note-"

    The ghoul hissed, disappointed. It seemed he would need to look into this himself later on. Regardless, he continued to listen to what "good news" the radio anchor had to say.

    "It's May! Which means the Kuhler animal shelter is gearing up to have their spring Puppypalooza this weekened--" click! Mortis' tail flicked up once again to change the station, having already decided he had enough of this Puppypalooza the moment the anchor vomited it out of his mouth. Blegh. The ghoul pushed the switch for the station, flicking through a surprising number of country music stations, slightly less religious stations, pausing as the clipped sounds of switching stations gave way to what sounded like a hunting station.

    "...Bear season is not the only thing that is in full swing, but fishing season has begun in the northern bay area! I'm certain all you fishermen out there are itching to go out and catch a big one. Especially now a few new species have become prevalent enough to be fished this year."

    Fishing? Mortis pondered the broadcast as the anchor, which sounded like a mature woman, went on to talk more about the open fishing season that had started up. It was not exactly a trip he would think to make but... He glanced down at Woolie as she bounded ahead, the house growing closer as they approached. If the local farmers were thinking to meet regarding his activities, maybe it would be best to lay low for a little while. They could not do anything to him, but if they found his home and realized he was staying in it...

    The squeaking of the cart wheels echoed the events occurring within the superfiend's bleached skull.

    "Sssss..." It was not a scenario he found to be all that pleasant. The time spent away from the farm would be nice as well, for the most part he either was staying home and raising the lamb, or out in the city doing errands. It could be something of a vacation, he decided. Not to mention Woolie could appreciate seeing some new territory. He could see her frolicking near the shore or splashing in the shallows. He turned his stride away from the house and over towards the beginnings of his vegetable garden, where a pile similar to what he was carrying sat. Next to it a shovel was stabbed into the earth, awaiting the next time Mortis had use of it.

    Weeds and woody plants sat uprooted in a mass, which only grew bigger as Mortis arrived and hefted his armful of roughage onto it. Wiping the remnants from his rotted palms, the superfiend turned to Angemort as she came to a stop next to the pile, already familiar with the routine her master had set down a few days ago. A clawed hand came to clap fondly against the side of her neck in appreciation, and the undead mare gave a soft huff. She did love being appreciated, maybe master would give her some treats if she helped him pull enough green stuff?

    "A little later." Mortis rasped as he went around to pull the weeds from the baskets that hung from either side of her ribs. "How would you like a vacation, to the north?" He propositioned. The mare's maggot-eaten ears pricked, one pointing to the side for a moment and then rotating to face forward again.

    What is a vacation?

    Ah, right, she had no idea. "Ah, nevermind. Perhapsss thisss weekend we can ride up to the bay, how doess that sssound?" Her empty eye sockets, while unreadable, seemed to covey Angemort understood they would be going somewhere. Her ears flicked and her skeletal tail gave a small waggle as she turned her head to look back at him.

    A ride? I like rides, will we be going on one soon?

    It had been so long since she had been off the farm, she wanted to travel, to go explore, eat new things! Speaking of eating things... Master's hat looked very tasty. Maybe he would not mind if she had a nibble? Her head followed Mortis as he went to place the basket of weeds onto the pile, leathery hide creaking as she slowly opened her mouth and reached forward, her jaw twitching ever so slightly as she attempted to get a nibble of that dark, succulent fabric without the sheep-skulled superfiend noticing.

    "No eating my hat, Angemort."

    Immediately the mare drew her head away, a disappointed huff puffing from her empty ribs. One day, hat. One day...

    Alas, the ghoul would not be so willing to part with the head wear, Especially since he just lost a hat to that flying lizard last month. "But yessss, we will be going on a ride sssoon, your sssissster and Woolie will be coming with usss." he hissed, depositing the weeds on the pile. Angemort's gaze followed him as he went to empty the second basket, and then in the direction of excited bleating.

    Woolie had found the weed pile.

    Nary a moment passed before the little black lamb rushed over to it, circling the mound once before hopping back a short way and turning as if estimating the distance. Mortis sockets focused on the fluffy infant. "Isss that a big pile of ssstuff, Woolie?" He rasped dotingly, taking another armful and dumping it on what was slowly becoming a small hillock of cut weeds. She looked at him and baaed, her little tail giving a happy wiggle. The mound looked pretty big alright, big enough to maybe... climb.

    She was not the only one who noticed. "Woolie..." Mortis warned, pausing in his unloading circuit to watch his fluffy daughter. Angemort raised her head to look over at the lamb as well, curious.

    Instincts passed down through generations sent a shiver of energy down the lamb's spine, to which she reacted with an ecstatic little hop before bolting right towards the mound.

    "W-Woolie, wait!" He hissed, stepping around the lush pile just in time to see the lamb push off the ground in an elegant leap, her front hooves pushed forward in anticipation to land on the solid mass and claim this tiny mountain as her own!

    Only, the pile was not solid.

    PWOOF!

    Loose leaves flew outward in a small, fluttering cloud, and Woolie was effectively devoured by the weed pile. Immediately after, the lamb's earlier exuberance turned into terrified bleating.

    Ma! Maaaa! MAAAA! The hill ate me! Maaaaa!

    The ghoul's claws curled, and he sighed at the tiny creature's bleats. "Sssss, I tried to warn you, but you did not lisssten." He hissed, stepping around to the indent that marked her entry point. Already the pile was starting to shake and shudder from the lamb kicking and struggling inside. Ma needed to save her! Ma needed to free her from the clutches of the evil lamb-eating hill! Woolie bleated some more, turning about in the weed pile to where she heard her Ma's voice. It was eating her alive, Ma! Eating her! "Hold ssstill, you're not being eaten." The superfiend directed, digging open the side of the mound until Woolie's precious face popped out of the greenery.

    Baaa! She shook her head, colorful bits of spring flowers loosening from her short wool along with some succulent green shoots. As Mortis widened the hole a little more, the lamb climbed out, looking more like a pile of clippings and soil than a fluffy baby sheep. Despite himself, the ghoul could not help but chuckle at the sight, plucking bits of shoots and leaves from her neck as she walked up to him. "Ssss, now I'm going to have to brussssh all that out of you, naughty girl." He hissed, plucking a few more bits of green debris from her, to which her eyes drew themselves to little slits and she leaned into it. The threat of getting brushed and combed was negligible, she loved when Ma gave her brushies.

    Baths on the other hand... Mortis still was working with getting her comfortable in the tub. The smooth surfaces were not her favorite, and the sound of running water in the tub did not settle well in her ears.

    He would be giving her bath after brushing her out, but she was not going to know that just yet. For now, he busied himself with removing most of the larger bits of clippings and uprooted weeds from her wool, one hand dutifully at work while the other reached up to give a comforting scratch behind one of her broad ears.  "... I sssuppossse that could have been ssscary for you." He rasped, the lamb nodding her head as if in agreement, but mostly she was engrossed in all the attention she was being given. The ghoul glanced up from his task to an eavesdropping Angemort. "Put the pile back in order, I will return to it sssoon enough." He hissed to the mare, who obediently ambled over and started plucking up the loose debris in her teeth and placing it on the mound with as much dexterity as an undead horse could manage. She was a good horse, a smart horse, certainly master would give her extra treats should she do what she was told.

    Sugar cubes, handfuls of tiny carrots... The thought was enough to make her try and collect more than one stalk of disheveled weeds at a time. A tedious effort, but commendable.

    The superfiend's gaze directed itself back to Woolie, who was leaning fully into his hands by now with her eyes closed completely. Ma's scratchies were the best scratchies. Well, perhaps Uncle Fear's scratchies were pretty nice too... Just as good as Ma's scratchies, but Woolie did love her Ma, stink and all. Naturally there was going to be some bias. "I have been thinking of going up to the bay further north, how would you like to come along?" He hissed, moving his thumb to gently rub the side of her fuzzy ear. One eye cracked open upon the lamb, and she gave a soft, nearly sleepy bleat.

    What's a bay?

    "Sssss..." It was going to be a long afternoon.

      Current date/time is Thu Jul 27, 2017 12:40 am