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 Posted: Thu May 23, 2013 3:23 pm
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Posted: Thu May 23, 2013 5:10 pm
Kursha was in for the night.
He was sprawled across a thick black carpet in the middle of his respite block, remote in hand, and eyes glued to the flickering television screen. The weather was absolutely miserable, he thought with disgust, idly flipping through the channels. He had planned on making an expedition up the mountain this evening but then this confounded rain had appeared from no where. It had been nice all week, but of course as soon as he made plans, the weather changed just to spite him. Kursha hated the rain. He cast a baleful glare down the tunnel leading form his respite block, where he could faintly hear the pitter-patter of rain, before turning back to his main source of entertainment: the television.
Unfortunately, the television was failing to entertain. There was nothing good on - nothing that appealed to his current foul mood anyway. He considered playing one of his Westerns but then quickly decided against it. They would only remind him of how much he would rather be outside. With a sigh he hit the power to his TV, and sat on the floor moping and feeling positively belligerent. He wanted to explore or at the very least shoot something. The latter was also impossible. Kursha eyed his rifle on the floor beside him, surrounded by a collection of tools. Something in the mechanism had jammed. He had spent the better half of yesterday trying to repair it, but experienced little success. As far as he could tell, it should have been functioning properly. For lack of anything better to do, Kursha pulled the gun into his lap and began to tinker with its various components. In the ensuing silence, the harsh sound of rainfall seemed to only grow exponentially louder.
Suddenly, there was a bang as the rifle fired.
Kursha stared, bewildered by the fresh hole in his wall and his now smoking weapon. He was a little alarmed that it had gone off without warning like that but more so that he had not removed all the cartridges - imagine if it had taken out his eye while he was working on it. Just the thought made him uncomfortable. Even so, dismay soon gave way to excitement. It had fired after all. Something he did must have fixed it. There was only one way to find out.
Grabbing the cartridges he had removed, Kursha loaded his weapon and cautiously aimed it at the wall. He was apprehensive about putting it too close to his face, and with good reason. Giving the trigger a gentle squeeze, Kursha was rewarded with another loud bang. Elated at his success, he fired another shot. It was a waste of bullets, but at the moment that hardly seemed to matter. His gun was fixed and that did wonders for his mood. He had not realised how anxious he felt without it. He decided not to fire another though. His ears were ringing and there were already three smoking holes in the wall.
Feeling relaxed at last, Kursha placed his gun off to one side and went over to his movie collection. Such an achievement could only properly be celebrated with a Crinte Westwood film. He picked one off the shelf at random - they were all fantastic - and popped it into the player. Settling back down onto the rug he flipped on the television and turned the volume up all the way. After all, that was the only way to get the full experience... and there was still the rain to drown out.
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Posted: Mon May 05, 2014 9:19 pm
Keionx was not contributing any quiet to the noisy night. The sounds of her raucous training echoed through her hive, and possibly into other hives.
She did not hear the gunshot, occupied as she was with hitting a dummy - a dummy that, of course, fought back. Beastdad watched. His ears did hurt, but he was pretending not to be in discomfort as he watched his trollbabykins train. He was so proud of her!
His deep rumbles of encouragement only added to the general din. Nobody - at all - thought about the effect of such training on Zariah...
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