Rotten Luck
Omake: Rotten Luck
Tormod watched the chronometer tick up, second by second, with the grim certainty of a condemned man.
He was not alone. Valria sat next to him, watching the chronometer with the same grim certainty. Roommate Sarah lounged on the couch, checking over her ordinance. Danaan stood off to the side, idly palming then sheathing a knife. Jessica floated nervously overhead. And of course, there were the ever present Governer's Own.
The tension in the room had been growing since the morning and yet nothing happened as the clock ticked ever upward. There hadn't even been a spider attack since they had convened to watch the ticking stopwatch.
"Maybe the pie eating contest counted," Danaan started. He fell silent under Tormod and Valria's glare. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. I just-"
Tormod smiled sadly a shook his head. He understood. Valria accepted it. Both turned back to the chronometer.
It showed 31532395
It showed 31532396
It showed 31532397
It showed 31532398
It showed 31532399
Red warning sigils flashed on their HUDs.
Warning: Abomination Daemonic Incursion Predicted! Polar Emergence ETA: 1 hour
The last number immediately began to tick down.
Valria hit the stop switch. The chronometer halted on 31532402.
Tormod began to laugh. It was not the laugh of a happy man.
The first three months had been fine. He had enjoyed the peace and quite, had even been able to relax a little.
During the fourth and fifth months he had begun to worry. He wasn't used to such a long stretch without some minor incident. It was true that he had gone years between major incidents in the past, but there hadn't been anything. Not a coin landing on edge and requiring him to adjudicate a psyker karoake match, not a single civilian tripping and requiring some death defying stunt to save them. Nothing.
Valria tried to calm him down, tried to convince him that his decision to avoid the madness was a contributing factor.
By the sixth month Valria started to share his concerns. Her personal luck might not be as bad as his, but such a stretch of uninterrupted normalcy was unnatural to her as well.
The seventh, eighth and ninth months were characterized by a sort of manic tension as the pair and their friends found themselves waiting, waiting, for the pin to drop. It was during this time that they engineered the pie eating contest. It had been a wonderful bit of absurdity, but noone, not even Danaan, really believed it had worked.
In the tenth, eleventh and twelfth months a grim acceptance had settled in. They knew when it would come.
And so they had gathered this morning, in this room, to watch the clock they had started at the end of their last adventure. The only real question had been whether it would hit when the count hit one year exactly, or if it would wait for one of them to be foolish enough to breath a sigh of relief.
Looking at the clock, showing one year minus an hour, with alarms blaring and emergency sirens beginning to wail, they knew.
@Durin
Tormod watched the chronometer tick up, second by second, with the grim certainty of a condemned man.
He was not alone. Valria sat next to him, watching the chronometer with the same grim certainty. Roommate Sarah lounged on the couch, checking over her ordinance. Danaan stood off to the side, idly palming then sheathing a knife. Jessica floated nervously overhead. And of course, there were the ever present Governer's Own.
The tension in the room had been growing since the morning and yet nothing happened as the clock ticked ever upward. There hadn't even been a spider attack since they had convened to watch the ticking stopwatch.
"Maybe the pie eating contest counted," Danaan started. He fell silent under Tormod and Valria's glare. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. I just-"
Tormod smiled sadly a shook his head. He understood. Valria accepted it. Both turned back to the chronometer.
It showed 31532395
It showed 31532396
It showed 31532397
It showed 31532398
It showed 31532399
Red warning sigils flashed on their HUDs.
Warning: Abomination Daemonic Incursion Predicted! Polar Emergence ETA: 1 hour
The last number immediately began to tick down.
Valria hit the stop switch. The chronometer halted on 31532402.
Tormod began to laugh. It was not the laugh of a happy man.
The first three months had been fine. He had enjoyed the peace and quite, had even been able to relax a little.
During the fourth and fifth months he had begun to worry. He wasn't used to such a long stretch without some minor incident. It was true that he had gone years between major incidents in the past, but there hadn't been anything. Not a coin landing on edge and requiring him to adjudicate a psyker karoake match, not a single civilian tripping and requiring some death defying stunt to save them. Nothing.
Valria tried to calm him down, tried to convince him that his decision to avoid the madness was a contributing factor.
By the sixth month Valria started to share his concerns. Her personal luck might not be as bad as his, but such a stretch of uninterrupted normalcy was unnatural to her as well.
The seventh, eighth and ninth months were characterized by a sort of manic tension as the pair and their friends found themselves waiting, waiting, for the pin to drop. It was during this time that they engineered the pie eating contest. It had been a wonderful bit of absurdity, but noone, not even Danaan, really believed it had worked.
In the tenth, eleventh and twelfth months a grim acceptance had settled in. They knew when it would come.
And so they had gathered this morning, in this room, to watch the clock they had started at the end of their last adventure. The only real question had been whether it would hit when the count hit one year exactly, or if it would wait for one of them to be foolish enough to breath a sigh of relief.
Looking at the clock, showing one year minus an hour, with alarms blaring and emergency sirens beginning to wail, they knew.
@Durin