takeoff in 12 hours. @crackedchessboard.bsky.social

the lancer is finally taking a nap after 2 days of 'last-minute checks'. he says his ship is strictly off-limits unsupervised.

but then a phone just like the ones on the snowy radio dramas natasha gets this far out begins to cry out on the ship.

on the road. the sound of crows cawing drowns out the latest argument between the ranger and the reporter, but nobody else seems to notice. @wastelanderino.bsky.social

it's not too late. @allthewrongpieces.bsky.social

a legion soldier dressed like an angel suddenly comes screaming at him with a spiked bat.

we'll huff, an' we'll puff . . .

c'mooon. don't you wanna live a li'l, momma?

yoo-hoo!!!

howdy fellas, say hello t' my little friends!!!

on the horizon, legion boys. no, not exactly; not anymore. they wear a brilliant, rich blue between their metal grills, and matching jet-black shades, reflecting the souls of their victims back at them. they jeer and scream. upon their helmets some wear brass halos, some wear wings.

a fireball erupts out of the saloon.

kimira the ruinous, eh?

kimira the ruined.

The cawing woke Kimira before dawn. Dark, sonorous tones turned furtive with excitement, as though all the talk before it was merely preamble. All voices overlapped, creating a sphere of noise that encircled what was becoming Refuge.

it was little things at first; slowly, they started to make camp on his property. some brought scrap, some twigs, some the secret shiny things only birds really knew about. then there was the digging, hiding their treasures among the bones of history. and then there was the meat.

all day long, crows have been gathering outside his window, cawing in parliament.

birds circle in the sky and speak in knowing dance. not once do they break.

And when he reached the perimeter, she had been expecting him for so long she had almost grown bored. He began as a speck, a dark blot on the horizon so small it could have been a sunspot. Then his sentience became apparent; from even here, she saw his shape shifting at the edge of the world.

And he rained down fire and brimstone on the wicked and scorched them with his burning wind.

i feel like i've met you before.

waving, smiling, from the far slope.