Plastic skeletons and ragdolls.

WorldDevourer

To summon me, sacrifice tea.
Inactive
Jul 1, 2017
339
London
Pronouns
He/him/his
Posting Status
Daily
Charlie sat in the canteen at the school. He had been forced out of office for a meeting with someone who had cancelled moments before he was due to meet them. So he was a little annoyed, having come all the way down here for nothing. He had tried the food, reconstituted fruit juice and a sloppy joe that was more sloppy than joe. Disapointing to say the least. But one thing he had found was a chess set, mostly complete, in a cupboard in the corner of the canteen. He was currently using a salt shaker as the white king and a pair of bent straws as black pawns. And he was playing chess against himself.

Drat white had just fallen victim to the underhand start of lasker-bauer combination by. He would have to make some sacrifices if he could rescue this game. His opponent was devilishly fiendish. White bishop took black's pawn. He moved a black knight in to block the second white bishop from eliminating the pawns around the king, which could lead to checkmate from the white queen. But too late. A surprise pawn swooped in and took black's knight, leaving him in check. Drat.

He took a sip of the artificial orange juice. He considered setting up for a second game, replacing the bent straws and the salt shaker king along with the rest of the pieces. He liked chess. He prefered senet, but not many people played that anymore. His was probably the only set on the island. But there was something about chess, never dulled or diluted, it's rules never twisted. You could rely on a rook to always move horizontically or vertically, or a knight to move in it's fascinating L shape. He stood up from his chair, and headed back to his office. As he approached the office, and reached out a hand to unlock the door, he saw someone walking the other way...

@Foxy
 

Sarrain

The Salt Sea
Inactive
Supporter
Jan 30, 2016
6,703
Arizona
Pronouns
She/Her
Posting Status
Daily, Weekly

Ethel was busy looking over things, expression blank as ever. It wasn't that Ethel Sharpe didn't have emotions, just that hers were rather muted. She was an abomination now, after all. That human part that had once been her brain was mutated and changed beyond repair. She could hardly recall the human things, even if at time things nipped at her emotional state in a way that confused her.

That said, being busy didn't mean Ethel was oblivious to her whereabouts. Upon seeing Charlie – he was a teacher of college necromancy, wasn't he? – she gave him a nod as sharp as her taken surname and was fully intent on continuing to walk away.

Among the people at the school, Ethel was probably the staff least friendly and willing to talk. A bit ironic, being a school nurse, but then she'd studied in the ways of surgery and less in doctoring. She didn't need bedside manner to fix people up and keep them running.


 
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