rider-on-a-white-horse

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

*Binky walked over to Death, resting his head on his master's shoulder as the two of them just watched Pollution. The horse almost seemed to be smiling too, matching Death.*

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

*He could not help from smiling. It had been so long since he had seen his young friend so happy.*

CLAIM THEM, FIRST, AND THEN NAME THEM. AND THEY SHALL BE YOURS.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

VERY WELL, THEN.

*He pressed his bony hands into the dirt. He is Death, yes, and so much of the surrounding area is dead. But not everything is. And he claims everything at some point, and things tend to come when they are called.

Soon, a veritable rainbow of frogs have hopped up around the pair, the few stragglers who had survived the logging. The ones who would continue to survive.*

SHALL THESE DO?

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

*Death could see the little frog's life timer change, as it became a companion to a Horseperson.*

YOU DID VERY GOOD, MY FRIEND.

IT IS A RATHER SMALL CREATURE. WE COULD GET YOU MORE? IF YOU WOULD LIKE.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

WONDERFUL.

*He crouches down beside them.*

NOW, PICTURE A BUBBLE. GET AN IMAGE OF IT IN YOUR MIND. MAKE SURE IT IS BIG ENOUGH TO FIT THE FROG. THE BUBBLE MUST BE STRONG.

AND NOW PICTURE THE FROG INSIDE OF THE BUBBLE.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

WOULD YOU LIKE THIS ONE?

*He does the math in his head. The frog is such a small creature. The twisting of influence that allows the harbingers of the apocalypse to have a companion allows for a much larger creature. Perhaps it could be adjusted.*

WE MAY BE ABLE TO FIND MORE FOR YOU.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

*Gently, he tilts his bony hand into theirs, and the frog hops down and onto their hand.*

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

IT WILL NOT DIE.

*There is a kind smile on Death's face - or at least, as close as he can get to a kind smile with a skull.*

HOLD OUT YOUR HAND, MY FRIEND. TRUST ME.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

*He looks at them, confused for a moment as to what they're doing on the ground, but thinks nothing of it.*

AND A STRONG SURVIOR, TOO, TO HAVE MADE IT THROUGH THE LOGGING.

HOLD OUT YOUR HAND.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

COME WITH ME THEN.

*Physics is really nothing more than a suggestion for Death. With a wave of his bony arm, the three of them - him, Pollution, and Binky - are transported to a rainforest.

Except...it's desolate. Trees have been cut down, their stumps lingering like gravestones. Smoke hangs in the air, and the ground is hard, littered with debris.

He kneels down, extending a hand to the dirt. The leaves and dirt shift, and a blue poison dart frog hops onto his bony fingers.*

HELLO LITTLE ONE. MEET MY FRIEND.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

OF COURSE.

THEY DO TEND TO BE TROPICAL CREATURES, MORE OFTEN THAN NOT, AND AMPHIBIANS ARE RATHER SMALL, BUT THEY ARE STILL WONDERFUL CREATURES.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO SEE SOME?

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

THERE ARE SEVERAL ANIMALS THAT CAN BE POISONOUS. IT IS A SELF-DEFENSE MECHANISM, I BELIEVE.

THEY ARE OFTEN VERY COLORFUL. I KNOW OF SEVERAL FROGS AND LIZARDS THAT USE THEIR COLORS TO WARN OF THEIR TOXICITY.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

PERHAPS WE SHOULD START WITH ANIMALS THAT ARE SKILLED AT ADAPTING? SOMETHING THAT WILL BE HARDY ON ITS OWN, WHICH WE MAY BOLSTER.

OR WE COULD LOOK AT ANIMALS THAT ARE POISONOUS?

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

THEN IT IS SETTLED.

ARE THERE ANY CREATURES YOU WOULD PARTICULARLY LIKE? OR SHALL WE JUST START LOOKING?

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

I TOLD EVERYONE THAT I HAD NOT REAPED HIM!

Woah mama we all go to hell

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

SHE IS NOT THE TYPE FOR VISITING, I DO NOT THINK. IT IS ALL TOO EASY FOR HER TO GET CAUGHT UP IN HER WORK.

BUT MY POINT STILL STANDS. WE CAN FIND A COMPANION FOR YOU. I WOULD BE MORE THAN WILLING TO TEACH YOU HOW TO WEAVE YOUR INFLUENCE TO AVOID THE CREATURE.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

WHAT I MEAN IS THAT YOU ARE....YOU ARE ALLOWED TO HAVE A COMPANION. ONE THAT IS IMMUNE FROM THE EFFECTS YOU TEND TO HAVE ON LIVING THINGS.

SCARLET HAS A DOG, YOU KNOW. A PITBULL. AN ADORABLE CREATURE, REALLY. I DO NOT THINK IT WOULD HARM A FLY.

MY FRIEND. ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

They perceived the fact that something clean and fresh had entered their cubbyhole. Something on old, old parchment. Something in that swoopy handwriting like no other they’d seen, something Mr. P had been teaching them to read since they were old enough to focus on it.

They paused their music, paused their game (and right before they were about to challenge Sabrina again?), and brought the clean, clean parchment, a thing that had been created before their manifestation, toward them via amorphous sludge picking it up in a sort of hand. They read the message.

They knew that, somehow, Mr. Az could hear them when they spoke to his parchment. They’d never asked why - they figured it had something to do with the nature of him as a being, or perhaps he was just cool like that.

I’mmm hrgh fi- ne. Nothing to wor- worryyy pop pop pop about.

They folded the parchment up, slipped it inside one of their various pockets, with all the rest of the letters they’d ever been sent, turned their music back on, and returned to their game. Time to take down Sabrina - for the hundredth time.

@janeway-lover