"And so, it burns." Harold explained calmly.
"I...isn't that bad? I mean, if I were in your shoes, I'd get that checked out." Adargon looked like Harold had just smacked him across his face, and he was still trying to regain his sense of balance.
Harold shook his head as he folded his arms behind his back. "Nah, I'm sure it's nothing."
"It burns...every single time, and you think that's nothing?" The fish man scoffed. "My man, something is seriously wrong with you. Like, I've never even heard of that before, and it's definitely never happened to me."
Harold shrugged with his arms still behind his back. "I just figure it's different for everyone."
"Good day gentlemen, how goes the cleanup?" Asked Stoor as he leaned down towards the two of them.
"Go on, tell him." Adargon said as he waved an arm towards the giant worm. "I'll bet he has never had anything like that happen to him."
Harold raised an eyebrow and slowly shook his head. "I know gym teachers aren't the smartest bunch, but you really are quite adamant about your conspiracy here."
"It's not a conspiracy! It just shouldn't burn!" He bemoaned.
"Burning? Conspiracies?" Stoor asked. "Sounds like you've got some...burning questions!"
Adargon groaned and rolled his eyes, while the pun seemed to fly right over Harold's head.
"Alright." Harold sighed. "If this will finally put your mind to rest, I shall explain it to him as well."
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"You've got a lot of these, don't you?" Will asked as he held his now empty plate.
Azrail nodded. "It seems most of my life translates well to stories. A multitude of morals surround all my days."
"That's pretty cool," Will said with genuine enthusiasm. "The best I have is the one time my boss switched bank accounts for the company and forgot to transfer the power bill."
Will chuckled and then let out a contented sigh before he continued. "Oh man, and even with the power shut off, he still wanted us to work. Can you believe that? I mean, we need computers to do most anything, but the guy was adamant about it."
Stolen story; please report.
He let out another laugh before finishing by saying. "What a character."
Azrail listened carefully, and then nodded. "Yes, looking towards the goal alone does make it easier to stumble when even a tiny pebble crosses your path."
"Huh? I just thought the story was kinda funny." Will shrugged.
"Perhaps," Azrail mused aloud. "Many people have morals scattered throughout their lives. They just lack the introspection to see them for more than just what they are on the surface?"
"I mean, that makes sense I suppose," Will said. "I know I'm usually too busy to really think critically about every day. Heck, I pretty much just work and then unwind with friends like I am here...although this is sort of a special party."
"Because it serves as a shelter from the end of the world?" Azrail guessed.
"Huh? I mean, I guess that's part of it? But no, I mean we haven't all been able to get together like this in a while!" He said with a smile as he seemed to be half reminiscing. "Usually it's been small groups, and half the time someone has to cancel for one reason or another. Why, I don't think we've gotten together with more than three or four people at once in ages."
Azrail raised an eyebrow. "Ages you say? Which age? The...bronze perhaps?"
"Huh?" Will asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Bronze? What's that got to do with anything? It's just an expression. But...it has been years though." He let out a sad sigh as he spoke about the lack of quality time they've had together.
"Years huh?" Azrail mused as he narrowed his eyes at Will. "Years as in...decades, centuries?"
Will looked down at himself. "Do I look that old or something? Centuries, really?"
Azrail picked up his broom and shook his head. "Pay it no mind. I am not great at speeches, or really talking of any kind. I'm just a warrior trying to lift myself and others out of the ocean of suffering we're all slowly being consumed by."
Will let out another laugh. "You're pretty funny, you know that? That's a real poetic way to put the daily grind we all have to go through."
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"Well, what are you waiting for?" Abraham asked.
The hollow king stood there, frozen. His hand was out, and inches from the microphone, but he just couldn't grasp it.
Abraham turned his back to the emaciated man in his suit and disheveled hat. He leaned against the stage and folded his arms across his chest.
"You know, there's nothing wrong with calling it quits early. Plenty of sleep to catch up on before all this after all." Abraham said as he closed his eyes and bowed his head forward.
There was a feeling of electricity in the air. Like a powder keg that only needed a single spark to ignite the entire barrel. No one was around the two of them at the karaoke machine, but with that feeling in the air, there may as well have been a mosh pit filling an entire stadium.
Alone, with just Abraham there, who even had his back to him now, the hollow king stood frozen. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as he finally grasped the microphone.
And just like that, it felt like a blast of energy shot out from the stage. As music started to rise up from the speakers, it was like the electricity had shot itself into the air where it buried itself under your skin.
No matter their feelings before, as that blast hit them, the urge to move imprinted in everyone's mind. Like a siren's call, or the command of the ant queen, people started to pool in.
The hollow king was still silent, with only his hand on the microphone still on the stand. He was like a statue, and Abraham served as a sort of barrier between him and the quickly swelling crowd.
As more and more creatures dropped their work to gather, there was a strange feeling in the air. One of potential. Like anything could happen in the next few moments, and they were all simply waiting to see where the hollow king would direct them.
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"Seems perfectly normal to me." Stoor agreed with a sagely nod.
"What!" Adargon cried. "No way! That is not normal at all."
"You've got to look outside your own personal experiences now and again." Stoor explained. "Not everyone goes through things exactly the same way that you do. There are a great many worlds, and a great many experiences that go along with them."
"No. I refuse to believe that. Like, actual burning? As if you were on fire?" Adargon was still adamant that it wasn't normal.
Harold nodded. "It's no picnic, but that's exactly it."
"That's insane!" He turned towards Stoor. "Come on, you have to at least admit that it's crazy."
Stoor shook his massive head. "For many a healthy burning sensation is normal. I mean, just ask Johnny."
"Who?" Harold asked as he adjusted his coke bottle glasses.
"You know, Johnny Cash and his burnin' ring of fire!" Stoor cackled.
"I never should have had him ask you." Fish man groaned. "Of course, you'd expect burning, your blood is acidic!"
"I fail to see how that applies here." Stoor disagreed.
"Yeah, we're not even talking about blood." Harold asserted. "Wait...acidic?!?"