froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
They say that one swallow does not make a summer, but as the swirling mass rose into the pale December sky and the unseasonable heat prickled his skin and scorched the winter-bare branches of the trees around him, Wally wondered how many it took to force the issue.

A patch of dead-brown grass at his foot burst into flame, causing him to start backwards with a cry of alarm and a faint smell of singled suede from his comfrotable brown house shoes.

Above him, the flock chittered happily, wings blocking out a sun that was already too bright, too hot...

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
It's St Swithin's Day! According to folklore, the weather on this date will decide if the UK has forty days of rain or sunshine. How about some works themed around Eerie's favourite weatherman, only sentient tornado, or sash-wearing weather goddess?
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
The Frog of Ultimate Doom sat despondently atop a wilting lily pad, it's great green shoulders slumped in abject despair.

"I should never have come here," it said.

Weatherman Wally, who was at heart a kind and compassionate man, felt bad for the frog but could not bring himself to disagree.

"It's all gone wrong," said the frog. "I was going to come here, mess with you all a little, ruin a couple of festivals, and then leave."

"The weather doesn't work like that here," Wally explained, as gently as he could. "There are literal gods here."

The frog sighed.

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: The Powers That Be

Read more... )

Eerie, Indiana/Gortimer Gibbon's Life on Normal Street

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
The Lady of Storms drifted over Eerie, the dark grey thunderclouds that made up the great folds of her skirt blocking out the sky, the spark of merriment in her eyes shooting bolts of lighting that burned white-hot and shattered stone when they landed. The people not already inside hurried for the nearest shelter, and down at the World o' Stuff Mister Radford handed out endless cups of hot chocolate to drenched and shivering citizens.

Alone at WERD-TV, Weatherman Wally sat beside the topographical map of Eerie, shoulders slumped, fingers crisscrossed with electrical burns. This would be a bad one.

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: The Powers That Be

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
Outside the sun was shining, though it remained bitterly cold in the shade and patches of ice still formed crisp, whitish skeins on the previous night's puddles.

Weatherman Wally stood on his newly-repaired and, thanks to a mutually beneficial agreement with the man from the Eerie Dairy, uniformly-aged wooden veranda, a mug of coffee clasped in gloved hands as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

The rusted iron tracks where the Ghost Train ran at Midsummer were just starting to form indents in the soft black earth, and he could hear the spectral rumble of sleepers yet unrealised.

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
It was a beautiful summers' day despite being the middle of February, and the carnivorous roses were in full bloom, their petals lush and vibrant and gloriously pink after a full morning feasting on the trapped and shrivelled corpses of a half-dozen joggers.

Weatherman Wally sat on one of the white-painted benches that lined the path through the rose garden, eating a sandwich while being careful not to make any sudden movements. All around him, signs warned of the risks posed by undertaking any high-speed activity while in the presence of man-eating plants.

A shame the runners visited before dawn.

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
Smooth jazz was playing from the loudspeakers mounted atop tall poles all across Eerie, and in the climate-controlled and lightning-proof vault beneath WERD-TV, Weatherman Wally was panicking.

"Are you sure you didn't summon something?" he asked, for at least the third time since she'd arrived.

Syndi Teller smoothed down the puffy blue-grey skirts of her Miss Tornado Day outfit, hastily retrieved from the back of her closet when the summons came.

"No," she said, taking a deep breath that raised tiny zephyrs even in the sealed room. "I don't even like jazz. Whatever's haunting the warning sirens, it isn't me."

Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
It's St Swithin's Day! According to folklore, the weather on this date will decide if the UK has forty days of rain or sunshine. How about some works themed around Eerie's favourite weatherman, only sentient tornado, or sash-wearing weather goddess?
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
"Winter berries," said Bertram Wilson, making a careful rotation of the huge, off-white confection that occupied pride of place beside a neat stack of freshly-washed kitchen utensils. "That's a bold choice in the middle of August."

"I like how the blackberries look against the cream," said Tod.

"Very fresh," Ernest observed. He exchanged a glance with his twin. "Do I detect the helping hand of Weatherman Wally and some out-of-season climate control at work?"

"He also likes blackberries," Tod allowed. "And autumn."

Bert and Ernie examined the enormous trifle for a few more moments before nodding.

"Who doesn't?" they asked.

Ongoing Verse: Janet

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
As if on cue, it began to rain. Lightly at first, then heavier, quickly becoming a deluge that poured from a blue and cloudless sky.

Melanie glanced up, feeling the blessedly cool water on her face and bare arms.

"Looks like the boss lady managed to convince Wally," she said.

Sara Sue nodded, using her free hand to push her long hair back even as the hand holding the pencil never stopped moving. Her clothes were quickly becoming soaked, but the sketchpad open on rapidly-dampening knees remained bone-dry.

Melanie reached into her utility belt, checking for the extra pair of socks.

Ongoing Verse: Janet

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Milkman

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
Lightning flashed overhead, and for a moment the sky was all aflame, the land beneath it lit bright as day though midnight had come and gone long since.

Thunder rumbled, shaking the single-pane glass in the soft and rotting wood of window frames up and down that long-abandoned street.

Dash X stood in the middle of the weed-cracked road, borrowed clothes plastered to him by the driving rain. This was his least-favourite outfit, the colours too bright and the whole thing several sizes too big, but it was still clothing he could ill-afford to lose.

His feet were bare, and in the light of the storm the scars on them were red, livid and shining. Beneath him, a thick rubber mat of the kind used in offices to lessen the chance of static discharge glistened like living oil.

Lightning cracked again, closer now. At the edge of town, something was burning. The new Weatherman didn't yet have Wally's level of control, and property damage happened more often these days.

The door to one of the houses banged open, caught by the rushing wind. In hand-me-down oil-slickers and heavy-soled rubber boots, Sara Sue and Harley said nothing as they joined him.

Ongoing Verse: Pay Attention

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
Syndi's hands were chapped and dry from constant washings, and still the swirling funnel clouds of ten miniature twisters clung to her fingers.

She glared at the heavy-duty plastic mixing bowl in front of her, half-full of water and for the rest, brimming over with a cool damp mist that should have banished her troubling case of tornado-mittens.

"This isn't working," she informed the empty meeting room where Wally had left her. To her left, the pages of a cheap pad of A1 paper clipped to a whiteboard fluttered in a breeze that sprung up out of nowhere.

She sighed.

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
It was 3pm on a warm day in the middle of June, and already the streetlights were on.

Strange trees loomed dark and uncanny against a grey and louring sky, and as the wind whistled through bare branches and stirred drifts of sun-bleached garbage from the overflowing gutters that ran alongside the pavement, Marshall Teller zipped his green overcoat up as far as it would go and jammed chilled fingers even deeper into his pockets.

The last sunrise had been almost a month ago, replaced by perpetual gloom that waxed and waned on a twenty-four hour cycle. Wally was missing.

Ongoing Verse: Pay Attention

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Trusted Associates Inc

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
The scaffolding stretched in front of the windows, blocking light and air yet somehow managing to let in every mechanical shriek and whir from the power tools being wielded outside.

The desk fan that Dash had stolen years ago on his first ill-fated forays into office temping now held pride of place, propped on a cushioned footstool in the middle of the room. Marshall and the Manticore both lay prone before it's rapidly-oscillating blades, their previous enmity set aside in the face of a mutual enemy - the summer heat.

"Do you think Wally takes bribes?" Marshall asked.

The Manticore purred.

Ongoing Verse: Microwave

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
The hot spell had finally broken, and the cooling rain pounded down on parched earth and baking asphalt.

Marshall pushed open the old-fashioned sash windows, feeling the soft give of rotting wood under a lumpy coating of thick white gloss. The air was full of the smell of wet pavement and the susurration of falling water and he leaned out, breathing deep as heavy droplets quickly soaked his skin and hair.

"Looks like Wally managed to catch that frog after all," said Simon, who was performing much the same ritual at the other window. "Or get him a date, anyway."

Ongoing Verse: Microwave

Read more... )


Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
"It's a variation on the hair serum Wally gave me the first time I got struck by lightning," Syndi said. "Some of the stuff he used isn't available in Indianapolis, so this semester I've had to improvise a bit when I make it."

"It smells nice," Simon offered, handing it off to Marshall. "What do you think, Mars?"

Marshall thought the smell was kinda strong, but since it was probably designed at least in part to cover up the scent of ozone and burned hair, he decided not to mention it.

"What's in it?" he asked instead. "Weather god stuff?"

Ongoing Verse: Trusted Associates Inc

Read more... )


Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
The rain had cleared just as the clock struck five, which was always a sure sign that Wally had plans for the evening.

Marshall Teller kicked off the stiff, shiny work shoes that had spent the last eight hours pinching him mercilessly, and slid into the waiting embrace of his trusty Sky Monsters, less than a month old and already starting to look ratty.

There was a knock on the already-open office door, and Marshall turned to see his Dad poking his head through the opening.

"Ready to head home?" Edgar asked.

"Yeah," said Marshall, grabbing his coat and standing.

Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History

Read more... )

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
There was an evil frog living in the crawl space under his house.

Wally knew this, because for the last few days it had been taunting him. Wet webbed footprints appeared across his weather map, and now Sergeant Knight and a very green-faced Officer Derek were out on Lake Eerie looking for the Shadow Over Innsmouth. Milk left on his doorstep would be curdled by a single scorching ray of sunlight hours before dawn. Errant, unseasonable breezes scattered his papers and laundry alike.

And now, all the chocolate in town was melting, and the Mayor would want to know why.

Ongoing Verse: Weather

Read more... )

Eerie, Indiana/Gortimer Gibbon's Life on Normal Street

Read more... )


Ongoing Verse: The Powers That Be

Read more... )
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle










froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle


froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
It's St Swithin's Day! According to folklore, the weather on this date will decide if the UK has forty days of rain or sunshine. How about some works themed around Eerie's favourite weatherman, only sentient tornado, or sash-wearing weather goddess?
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle


froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
It's St Swithin's Day! According to folklore, the weather on this date will decide if the UK has forty days of rain or sunshine. How about some works themed around Eerie's favourite weatherman, only sentient tornado, or sash-wearing weather goddess?
froodle: (Default)
[personal profile] froodle
It's St Swithin's Day! According to folklore, the weather on this date will decide if the UK has forty days of rain or sunshine. How about some works themed around Eerie's favourite weatherman, only sentient tornado, or sash-wearing weather goddess?

Profile

eerieindiana: (Default)
Eerie Indiana

July 2025

M T W T F S S
 123456
789 10111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
28293031   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 23rd, 2025 06:45 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios