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update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2022-02-14 06:25:07 -08:00
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writing/post-self/neviim/ioan/010.md
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@ -17,9 +17,9 @@ They'd each brought their own contribution for the night, as well. After dinner,
For his part, Debarre had brought fireworks. Or *a* firework, at least. The weasel removed a double fist-sized sphere of *papier mache*, and set it atop a small cylinder right next to the fire. With End Waking watching, hawklike, he directed everyone to stand back a few feet and lit the fuse with a small punk from the fire, explaining, "I've been working on this for the last seventy years or so. It's only about fifty percent possible outside the System, but my excuse is that I never saw fireworks out there so I can do whatever the fuck I want."
The firework lifted off the cylinder it had been set on top of with surprising grace. Rather than rocketing into the air, it rose slowly, splitting in half a few inches and rising in a tight helix, the weasel explaining that the propellant was tightly controlled to allow such, until it was hovering about eight feet above the fire on a column of sparks as orange as those of the fire itself. From there, small balls of cool-blue sparks popped free and danced in slow whorls. Finally, in a fountain green fire, billowing into the shape of a tree, it fell back into the campfire with a hissing sigh to be consumed by the flames.
The firework lifted off the cylinder it had been set on top of with surprising grace. Rather than rocketing into the air, it rose slowly, splitting in half a few inches into the air and rising in a tight helix, the weasel explaining that the propellant was tightly controlled to allow such, until it was hovering about three meters above the fire on a column of sparks as orange as those of the fire itself. From there, small spheres of cool-blue sparks popped free and danced around it in slow whorls. Finally, in a fountain green fire, billowing into the shape of a tree, it fell back into the campfire with a hissing sigh to be consumed by the flames.
"Outclassed," A Finger Pointing grumbled. "You said 'bring something', my dear, so I brought a bottle to drink, and you all bring plays and music and fireworks."
"Out-fucking-classed," A Finger Pointing grumbled. "You said 'bring something', my dear, so I brought a bottle to drink, and you all bring plays and music and fireworks."
"You will hear no complaints from me," End Waking said, grinning toothily. "Do you know how long it has been since I have had whiskey?"