(no subject)
Some days start off better than others.
You wake up, some days, and there's nothing to report; you get to your feet and lug yourself to the kitchen and there's nobody putting up much of a fuss. They've coaxed the kids into eating more of the unfamiliar stuff that grew out of the Milliways crops (it's been years since anything like this grew in England, after all) and they've started on the rest of the community's daily chores. Those days you like.
You wake up on other days to the sound of the telegraph rattling madly and it's an instantaneous transition from dozy sleep to full alert, because that's the sound of Ken having spotted an incoming dragon. Those days you spend chasing the children into the castle's shelter, or rounding up the adults who might've already been about their morning tasks. Not your favourite mornings, those.
And some days...
Some days you hear the rattle and it's a pattern you haven't heard in a good four or five years' time, and it takes you a moment to remember what it's trying to say. Those days you're out of your bunk and sprinting for the armoury, shouting for Creedy and waking every adult male you can find along the way. The last time you heard that rattle the castlefolk used up nearly all the ammunition left in the world, or at least all that was left so far as you know- but it doesn't matter. Things've changed since then. You found a door. There's enough of Calrissian's blasters left in the armoury despite what Eddie did yesterday: one for every adult who can handle their use, and the rest for the noncombatants and children, who'll be hiding until the worst is past.
Some days start off better than others. This doesn't look like it's going to be one of the good ones.
You wake up, some days, and there's nothing to report; you get to your feet and lug yourself to the kitchen and there's nobody putting up much of a fuss. They've coaxed the kids into eating more of the unfamiliar stuff that grew out of the Milliways crops (it's been years since anything like this grew in England, after all) and they've started on the rest of the community's daily chores. Those days you like.
You wake up on other days to the sound of the telegraph rattling madly and it's an instantaneous transition from dozy sleep to full alert, because that's the sound of Ken having spotted an incoming dragon. Those days you spend chasing the children into the castle's shelter, or rounding up the adults who might've already been about their morning tasks. Not your favourite mornings, those.
And some days...
Some days you hear the rattle and it's a pattern you haven't heard in a good four or five years' time, and it takes you a moment to remember what it's trying to say. Those days you're out of your bunk and sprinting for the armoury, shouting for Creedy and waking every adult male you can find along the way. The last time you heard that rattle the castlefolk used up nearly all the ammunition left in the world, or at least all that was left so far as you know- but it doesn't matter. Things've changed since then. You found a door. There's enough of Calrissian's blasters left in the armoury despite what Eddie did yesterday: one for every adult who can handle their use, and the rest for the noncombatants and children, who'll be hiding until the worst is past.
Some days start off better than others. This doesn't look like it's going to be one of the good ones.