Back in the Meatplane: Difference between revisions
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The clop of horse hooves on pavement echoed across the abandoned city, bouncing amongst shattered storefronts and crumbling homes. The horse pulled a small wagon, piled high with crates and piloted by a man and a young boy. | The clop of horse hooves on pavement echoed across the abandoned city, bouncing amongst shattered storefronts and crumbling homes. The horse pulled a small wagon, piled high with crates and piloted by a man and a young boy. | ||
The man sat straight and tall, humming a hymn under his breath as he fastidiously avoided looking at the skeletons that littered the road, and the boy clutched at the rifle in his lap, his white knuckles betraying his discomfort. | The man sat straight and tall, humming a hymn under his breath as he fastidiously avoided looking at the skeletons that littered the road, and the boy clutched at the rifle in his lap, his white knuckles betraying his discomfort. | ||
"F-f-f-father, w-w-why d-do we have to go through the necropolis on our way to market?" the boy said, jerking the rifle to face one of the empty ruins. | "F-f-f-father, w-w-why d-do we have to go through the necropolis on our way to market?" the boy said, jerking the rifle to face one of the empty ruins. | ||
"Because," the father said, fixing his child with a benevolent smile. "This is the fastest | |||
"Because," the father said, fixing his child with a benevolent smile. "This is the fastest route and..." he gestured at a pile of bleached bones and gleaming metal sitting forlornly in an empty doorway, "an important lesson about the dangers of technology..." | |||
[[Category:Server Crash Fluff]] | [[Category:Server Crash Fluff]] | ||
Latest revision as of 21:46, 17 June 2023
The clop of horse hooves on pavement echoed across the abandoned city, bouncing amongst shattered storefronts and crumbling homes. The horse pulled a small wagon, piled high with crates and piloted by a man and a young boy.
The man sat straight and tall, humming a hymn under his breath as he fastidiously avoided looking at the skeletons that littered the road, and the boy clutched at the rifle in his lap, his white knuckles betraying his discomfort.
"F-f-f-father, w-w-why d-do we have to go through the necropolis on our way to market?" the boy said, jerking the rifle to face one of the empty ruins.
"Because," the father said, fixing his child with a benevolent smile. "This is the fastest route and..." he gestured at a pile of bleached bones and gleaming metal sitting forlornly in an empty doorway, "an important lesson about the dangers of technology..."