Vivian sat beside Emily, as she stroked her hair. Emily's flesh, despite warm to the touch, was the color of the snow outside the window. Vivian called Emily's name several times but it didn't do much. Vivian didn't know how she'd break the news to Emily. Or, if Emily would believe her at all.
The radio on the dresser played a soothing old country song. The man gently played his guitar, as he sang a sad ballad. Vivian continued playing with Emily's hair. Vivian preferred when it was down; Emily had such long, beautiful black locks that easily tangled between your fingers when you found yourself playing with them. Vivian always told Emily this when she insisted on keeping the Bowler hat. At times, it made Vivian's stomach turn when she wore that thing. So many bad memories.
The man continued to strike the chords. His voice was angelic. Vivian closed her eyes, as she stroked Emily's left arm. Still warm. There was a tapping on the door; Vivian noticed the door knob wobble and shake.
"Emily." Gren's voice was sympathetic. "Amelia, I'm comin' inside..."
Vivian remained in her spot. No one saw her besides the Porgie kids. She found this out when Emily was a little girl and Lyla walked into the room and did not notice the blonde woman in the purple dress. Since than, Vivian used this ability to check up on her favorite Porgie.
Gren, glass of water and sandwich in the other, headed in Emily's direction. He placed the sandwich on a nearby table. Vivian smiled, as he sat beside Emily. Gren reached over and began playing with Emily's hair.
"Emily..."
Emily's eyes fluttered open. She could not remember a thing, as her eyes darted around the room. She was in Gren's apartment; the empty beer bottles lining the shelves and dresser was an immediate give away. Plus, the dirty and small apartment, not to mention the cheap colonge, lingered in the air. Emily narrowed her eyes at Gren. His grin was enticing, as she tried to move.
"AH FOOK!" Gren grasped Emily and held her tight. Vivian, looking away, could only picture Georgie and that night at the Pudding and Pie. Georgie. All she heard was Georgie. This worried Vivian.
"EASY, Porgie!" Gren grabbed a pillow and propped Emily up. "Relax, sweetie. I got you. Here-I brought you your favorite sandwich."
Emily carefully reached for the plate now in Gren's hand.
"Woot is it?"
"Remember? Peanut Butter and Strawberry Jelly. No crusts."
Emily was astonished. "The fook ya' tryin' ta' do? Score some fookin' brownie points afta' woot ya' did ta' me in the club?"
"Look, I didn't HAVE to do anything! I didn't NEED to go back! If I hadn't gone back-"
Gren paused. Emily, biting into her sandwich, noticed Vivian. Vivian shakes her head and holds her index finger against her lips.
"The bloody 'ell happened, Grendel? Where is Felicia?"
Gren was inaudible. "Emily-"
Between Gren's voice and Vivian's eyes, Emily sadly knew the truth. The only problem was, she was not prepared.
Emily looked down at the sandwich. "She's dead, ain't she Gren?"
Gren nods. "I went back to say I was sorry. I called your brothers and-"
Emily threw the plate against the wall. It shattered, causing two of the nearby bottles to tumble to the ground. Vivian backed into the corner, as Gren did his best to calm Emily. Although she had pain in her head and lower thighs, she managed to tumble out of bed and flop on the floor. Emily landed with a THUD, nearly causing her wrists to cave in. Emily yelled in agony, as Gren kneeled beside and craddled the grief stricken woman.
"No! no, no, no, no...Not Felicia! Not her....no....no..."
"I got you, Emily..."
"Woot the fook happened in there, Gren? Woot did they-"
"I don't know, Emily. I returned to apologies and there was so much blood...fuck..."
"Hans Junior? Me dancers!?"
"He is alright. The only dancers to survive were Nina and Alicia. I found you at death's door. The fucker took a lead pipe to your legs and left you there to die with a fuckin' gash on the side of your leg...Emily-"
"Was it that Folker, Gren?"
Gren sighed. "I don't know, Emily....I don't know..."
"Ya' called Peter and Ethan, right?"
Emily wanted to include Vivian. The once woman on her father's side could only sit back and stare deep into Emily's troubled eyes. Gren noticed Emily looking in the right corner; he wanted to jump in and ask Emily the deal but refused to ask. He was already on her shit list. Gren didn't want to see where her anger would leave him.
"Yes. They are on their way."
"If anyone can figure this out, it will be my brother. My family is in danger, Gren."
"They are fine, Emily."
"They are afta' Fables AND Halfers."
Gren looked deep into Emily's eyes. "I know that, Porgie. I will call them later if it makes you feel better."
"Woot 'bout Felicia? Where-"
"Peter will notify Swineheart."
Emily pressed her face against Gren's chest. The warmth escaping his body was creating a bubble of comfort. It was a strange sensation to her. Emily wrapped her arms around Gren's torso and buried her face into Gren's shirt.
Vivan beamed, as she watched Emily and Gren remain in silence. Their moment came to a halt, as there was a loud knocking on the door. Gren looked up.
"Must be Peter..."
"Betta' get that."
"Here." Gren holds Emily up, as he places her back on the bed. "Relax while I go get them."
Emily leaned back into the sheets, as she could no longer hold back. Vivian took this opportunity to lay beside the girl and do her best to comfort. Vivian continued to stroke her hair. Emily weeped into Vivian's chest.
Freaking Rose and her Lady Gaga! I like that song, too.....<.< lol
Its nice to see how their relationship began. Noir couldn't have… more said it better. Its nice to see them being friendly towards one another. Another great chapter. Can't wait for more.
I love when Vivian shows up to be with Emily. I had no idea only the Porgie kids we here. So, that means Georgie can't see her. Ah-would make sense as to why you never added her in the prologues yet.
So, Felicia is gone and this unknown Folker nearly had Emily killed and the club end up in a blood bath. I'm wondering if this attack is against the clan now. Or they just hate the club, which leads me to Jumbo. I don't trust him at all.
I mentioned this before: he knows something and wont tell Peter. His Tailor too. His story mentions he went from rags to riches; not a lot of Fables had that chance and he just randomly ends up in the bathroom of Jumbo? And why Emily? Does this Folker know something? And Vivian knew this would happen. I mean, she DID tell Emily her life changes by meeting a soul just as lost and confused as she is.
Also damn. That begining where Vivian mentions the hat. She really hates knowing Emily has become the next Georgie Porgie. She, however, can't except this fate for Emily. Hmmmmm....and seeing Gren makes me wonder now....I'm glad he returned and is trying to make peace.
I wonder who the killer Folker is, what will the twins do about this and what Emily will do with the fate Vivian has given her. I still can't get over what Emily said from the story in regards to Junior: "no babies will pop out of my vagina!" AND I can't see her pregant OR without hat damn Bowler hat and I NEED to see if my theory is right!!!
Sorry for this long section! XD I just love where this is going! Cant wait for more!!
Vivian sat beside Emily, as she stroked her hair. Emily's flesh, despite warm to the touch, was the color of the snow outside the window. Vi… morevian called Emily's name several times but it didn't do much. Vivian didn't know how she'd break the news to Emily. Or, if Emily would believe her at all.
The radio on the dresser played a soothing old country song. The man gently played his guitar, as he sang a sad ballad. Vivian continued playing with Emily's hair. Vivian preferred when it was down; Emily had such long, beautiful black locks that easily tangled between your fingers when you found yourself playing with them. Vivian always told Emily this when she insisted on keeping the Bowler hat. At times, it made Vivian's stomach turn when she wore that thing. So many bad memories.
The man continued to strike the chords. His voice was angelic. Vivian closed her eyes, as she stroked Emily's left arm. Still warm. There was a tapping on the door; V… [view original content]
That is indeed the reason why I never included Vivian in the prologue; she is not meant to be seen by Georgie or any of the other Fables. She was sent ONLY for the Porgie kids, especially Emily, due to her being identical to her father. Vivian does not like how much she has taken on the old Georgie, as far as the club, attitude and way of life.
Her main concern has been Emily's fate. "She is destined to be the next Georgie Porgie of Fabletown." This alone was a red flag to Vivian, whish is why she cam to emily while in the shower to warn her.
I have an idea with Jumbo and daniel the Tailor; won't go too much into detail, as to avoid spoilers. The Folker is attacking these Fables and Halfers for a reason. I'll see if you and the other readers will pick up on it.
I mentioned before about Gren and know where I'm going as far as HE goes. If you wish to PM your theory, I can gladly tell you yess or no.
I love when Vivian shows up to be with Emily. I had no idea only the Porgie kids we here. So, that means Georgie can't see her. Ah-would mak… moree sense as to why you never added her in the prologues yet.
So, Felicia is gone and this unknown Folker nearly had Emily killed and the club end up in a blood bath. I'm wondering if this attack is against the clan now. Or they just hate the club, which leads me to Jumbo. I don't trust him at all.
I mentioned this before: he knows something and wont tell Peter. His Tailor too. His story mentions he went from rags to riches; not a lot of Fables had that chance and he just randomly ends up in the bathroom of Jumbo? And why Emily? Does this Folker know something? And Vivian knew this would happen. I mean, she DID tell Emily her life changes by meeting a soul just as lost and confused as she is.
Also damn. That begining where Vivian mentions the hat. She really hates knowing Emily has become the next … [view original content]
The rain was heavy as Ethan pulled up to the familiar home on the outskirts of Fabletown. The wheels to his car buried deep in the thicket of mud, twigs and dead leaves. A blanket of lightning and the sound of thunder rang in the darkness. Ethan turned his headlights off, as his wipers continued to fling themselves back and forth. WHOOOOSHWHOOOSH Ethan leaned back into his seat, grabbed his phone and attempted to call Peter once more.
"You have one new message. First unheard message: Hey Ethan. Shit....umm, where are you at? Hey, umm, hurry up with those files, man! Emily just....Emily was attacked; she's here with Gren and I'm heading over there right now. Just, be careful out there."
Ethan heard only the sound of ringing, as he sighed and ended the call. Startled by the sudden pounding at his window, Ethan jumped in his seat and covered his heart. He stepped out of the vehicle; the rain poured down, soaking his jacket and brown hair. He noticed Katie, wearing an enormous sweater and her neck layered in scarves. Behind her, Jersey sat and waited. He was in his true form. Perhaps looking out for the portential Fable and Halfer killer.
"HERE!" Katie tried to shout over the rain storm. "Malcom found these on file! I'm not sure if they will do much but-"
Ethan tucked the files under his arm. "How many did he manage to get?"
"Not a whole lot, Ethan. The majority of Folkers live in secret now. They keep their files on lockdown and its difficult tracing their footsteps because of it."
Anothr clash of lightning, as Ethan returned to his car. "Thank you, Katie! Give my thanks to Malcom, too."
"Is she okay?" Concerned, Katie leans inside the car. "Is Emily-"
"How did you know about-"
Katie sighs. "Ethan, word is spreading fast. Dad....he just called me...said he's on his way to Gren's apartment and-"
"SHIT!" Ethan inserts the key and starts the engine. "We didn't WANT dad to find out until we got this whole thing under control."
"Do you know yet who it may be?"
"No idea. Until then, you and your family need to be very careful, you hear me?"
Katie nods. "Jersey has been keeping a VERY close eye on the place."
"Good. I'll, uh, call you if we need anything Folker related."
Ethan backs away from the house, pulls back onto the muddy road and heads back to Fabletown. Beside him, files of Folkers with a criminal background and hopefully more information to the on going bullshit, now lurking in the shadows of Fabletown.
"Dad, stop!" Peter tried to pin a knife weilding Georgie to the wall. "Dad, stop! He didn't do it-"
"HOW THE FOOK-" Georgie, despite his small stature, was indeed a fighter. "Ya' tried ta' kill me baby girl!"
Gren picked up a bottle and smashed it on the counter. "Fuck you, Porgie! COME AT ME!"
"Enough!" Peter growled, when he managed to pin Georgie to the wall. "Stop it, dad or I'm taking you in!"
"You should, Sheriff! You see the way this fuckin' idiot is acting towards me!?"
"Fook ya', Grendel! I know it was you that bloody fookin' did this! Why ELSE were ya' there!?"
"To say I was sorry for the things I fucking said earlier, Porgie! You weren't even fucking there, so don't act like-"
Georgie twists his arm and tosses the knife. It impales Gren's left arm. Peter takes out a set of cuffs, yanks Georgie's arms behind his back and locks his hands together. Forcing Georgie to sit, Peter coughs and examines Gren's arm.
"You fuckin' see this shit, Peter!? Fucking lunatic this guy is-"
"Shut up, Gren. You're not helping."
Georgie struggles in his chair. "Ya' fookin' monster! Ya' tried ta' kill me Emily but ya' couldn't do it! So, ya' go and destroy the ONE thing-"
"DAD!" Peter turns around. Georgie notices the change in not only his voice but face, too. "Stop...okay!?"
Vivian stood in the corner and watched as Georgie grew more determined to destroy the Fable Peter was tending to. She could see his veins bulging in his arms and neck; Georgie was grinding his teeth, as he continued to push and try to release himself. The determination could be heard in his voice. Vivian held her head low. She knew all too well the kind of person Georgie was capable of being. Even after all the years of patience, love and time, some things never went away. It was hard letting go of centuries worth of feelings.
"I hope you're taking that mother fucker in with you, Sheriff! I don't give a fuck if he IS your dad!"
"Fook ya' talkin 'bout ova' there, Grendel, huh?! Ya' got something ta' say....perhaps ya' like ta' come clean!"
"Least I LEFT her head on, Porgie!"
"Fook you..." Georgie's lips curled back, the words hissing from his throat. "Fook you, ya' piece of shit..."
"Least the Folkers are NICE enough to leave something for their fucking family members to bury-"
Peter could not hold back, as he punched Gren in the face. Falling into the floor, Gren was shocked and disturbed by Peter's sudden burst of anger. Kneeling beside Gren, he peered into his eyes and smiled.
"The FUCK Peter-the fuck is wrong with-"
"I told you BOTH to knock it off! If you two can't be in the same goddamn room, then I'm taking you BOTH in with me. Cut that shit OUT, Gren and stop adding fuel to this fire! This has NOTHING to do with that shit! Now-"
Peter pulls Gren back up, adjusts the cuffs and takes out a cigarette. Peter lights the front, as a trail of smoke carries on towards the ceiling.
"-Did you SEE anything or anyone when you went back to see Emily?"
"No, Peter. I fuckin' told you-I walked inside, saw the blood, and the dead scattered all over the place. I found Emily half conscience near the stage. Hans Junior and two of the dancers were not there at the time."
"Bullshit." Georgie whispered under his breath. "Ya' lyin', Grendel."
"HEY!" Peter points at Georgie. "Shut up, dad. Anything else, Gren?"
"No. That's the fuckin' truth, Peter. I picked Emily up, called you and took her back to my apartment."
"Yeah..I remember that."
Peter rubbed his forehead, as he paced around the living room. He was blinded by the sudden attack on not only his family but the city, too. Cole was destroyed that a Folker would turn their back, break the rules and begin another war. Sadly, Peter was not surprised; the Folkers were snakes in the grass and when your back was turned, they sank their fangs into you. There were a few good ones, like the Smith pack and Malcom; even Remus, since his imprionment at the Farm, was willing to cooperate and change.
Peter grew up understanding why so many Folkers took their chance to sneak around the streets of Fabletown to gradually make their way into the safety. The Council were nothing more than power hungry Wolves biting at the bit and eager to throw anyone into the fire just to save their skin. Now, there was a secret attack on Fables and Halfers. Who ever this Folker was, despised both Fables and Halfers, or, the idea of them living among one another. Some Folkers stuck by their old rules and refused to make a change.
Peter glanced at Gren. He was harmless, thought Peter. Sure, Gren was twisted, short tempered and was a walking time bomb but a killer? Yes, he ate and killed MANY warriors back in the homelands but that didn't mean a thing here in Fabletown; he'd rather be along than cause problems and although he liked to kick the dirt up, he would never attack his family. Not Emily, at least. Peter TRULY knew how Gren felt about his sister. Indeed Gren had issues with Georgie Porgie but to murder his family or anyone labeled a 'Halfer'? No. Not Gren.
Peter looked over; the three of them paused and quietly stared at Emily. She was still in her usual clothes but had Gren's brown leather jacket wrapped around her torso.
Emily looks over at Georgie. "Peter, why is dad in bloody fookin' cuffs?"
Peter huffs. "Cause he was acting like, well....dad...."
Georgie twisted again. "EMILY-oh me sweet precious Amelia! Ya' be alright! You alright? How is ya' back?"
"Felicia is dead, dad..."
"Oh Emily..." Georgie and Peter could easily detect the devestation in her voice. "Baby, I'm so sorry...."
"This fooker attacked me pride and joy...my club...my world..."
Emily glanced over at Vivian. Arms folded, the blonde woman in the purple dress could only shake her head in disbelief. No, thought Vivian. Your world? Pride and joy? Oh Emily...you have no idea yet, sweetie.
"We'll catch the guy or woman that did this." Peter finished his cigarette. "I sent Ethan out to gather files on all the Folkers with either a crime record or hate for Fables and Halfers alike."
"Woot 'bout the club?"
"Leave it." Everyone looked over at Georgie. "Just...leave it, love."
"But dad-"
"Let Peter finish the investigation and we'll fooking discuss this more. Leave that piece of shit behind ya', love. Nuthin' but trouble..."
Vivian was pleased to finally hear Georgie say these words. Emily took a notice to this, as she craddled the jacket closer to her chest.
She looked over at Gren. "Thank ya', Gren..."
Gren looks up. "For what, Ems?"
"Savin' me stubborn Porgie ass back there..."
Gren only cracks a crooked smile, as Peter's phone goes off.
"It's Ethan. He just arrived and-"
"Push that button over there." Peter turns. "Yeah, the red one. It will let him in."
As Peter pushed the button, Emily took the keys and uncuffed Georgie. He mumbled while rubbing his wrists; he took out a cigarette and headed to the back porch. Vivian watched as Emily did the same for Gren; the cuffs fell to the floor, as he repeated the same process Georgie did. Gren smiled at Emily.
"Thanks...How you, uh, feeling?"
"Been betta', Grendel. My back hurts and my legs feel like fookin' shit but...been betta'."
Gren and Emily head to the kitchen and grab a beer, just as Ethan enters the apartment.
Hmmm...so, forget Remus! That's who I thought was doing this but you mentioned he's trying to be 'better.' Well, there goes that theory. I wonder who it can be....hmmm...
I thought the entire thing with Gren, Peter and Georgie was hillarious. 'SHUT UP DAD!' Gren really and I mean really needs to back the hell up with that whole BS. At least he's trying to be friendly with Peter and everyone else. And vivian. I'm loving her in this story and can't wait to see how she plays everything out in the end. Also, Nick...WHERE is he!?
And my theory seems to be coming true. cough cough XD
The rain was heavy as Ethan pulled up to the familiar home on the outskirts of Fabletown. The wheels to his car buried deep in the thicket o… moref mud, twigs and dead leaves. A blanket of lightning and the sound of thunder rang in the darkness. Ethan turned his headlights off, as his wipers continued to fling themselves back and forth. WHOOOOSH WHOOOSH Ethan leaned back into his seat, grabbed his phone and attempted to call Peter once more.
"You have one new message. First unheard message: Hey Ethan. Shit....umm, where are you at? Hey, umm, hurry up with those files, man! Emily just....Emily was attacked; she's here with Gren and I'm heading over there right now. Just, be careful out there."
Ethan heard only the sound of ringing, as he sighed and ended the call. Startled by the sudden pounding at his window, Ethan jumped in his seat and covered his heart. He stepped out of the vehicle; the rain poured down, soaking his jacket and brown hair.… [view original content]
Sadly - especially because of that excellent BattleBlock Theatre reference - I do not currently reside anywhere near Baker Street. Though perhaps one day I shall, my Dragon friend. One day.
goes off and plays violin while being delightfully anti-social ;D
Mr. Weasel is writing a name upon the blackboard in Dr. Jekyll's office using a small stick of pastel red chalk. His large, looping letters cause much chalk dust to drop softly onto the wooden sill at the bottom. He finishes the last letter of the name and rubs a period on the board with great emphasis.
“Spring-Heeled Jack,” he declares, turning around to face the four others in the office. Well, there are actually five, however Prince Charming remains in a dream-state on the floor and is as such not entirely present.
Miss Muffet chimes up first, sitting in Jekyll's chair by the side of his desk. “You could have said it instead of submitting us to this silly drama.” She waves dismissively at the board.
“You really don't like you, do you Miss Muffet.”
“Well --”
Before the disagreement can come to a boil - and much to the relief of Cinderella, Dixa and Flycatcher -, Bigby appears at the door, looking distractingly haggard. He wears a clean white shirt un-tucked (surely a sign of weariness to have it un-tucked) over grey trousers, and his hair appears to be in need of the fine pulling only a comb can provide. Taking a second to look around the room, when he speaks it is with a voice much hoarser than usual. “Don't let me interrupt you.”
“You weren't interrupting anything!” Declares Dixa from her sitting position on top of the desk, who's grateful she won't have to listen to another argument between Miss Muffet and Mr. Weasel, especially after the pair had debated heatedly over what should be done with Flycatcher, who at that time still seemed to be in a state of shock. When the pair started getting loud, it transpired that Fly had just been snoozing.
“You're very chipper,” Bigby replies to Dixa, not necessarily intending it as a compliment. He proceeds towards the desk chair that Miss Muffet has graciously given up for the bruised and cut Sheriff.
“Well, we think we might have made a breakthrough in what's going on,” explains Dixa. “But I must ask: do you know anything of what's happened to Henry? They say you went with him, in a manner.”
Bigby is disquieted by the mention of Jekyll. “I'm not really sure what's happened to him if I'm honest, Dixa. I certainly didn't kill him.” He remembered attacking him viscously, though.
“Well, that's something,” she says, not really sure what to think.
“You mentioned a breakthrough?” Returns Bigby.
“Oh. Yes!”
“Excellent, because right now I haven't got a fucking clue about what's happening, and – AAHHH!” His fist pounds the desktop, doing so with enough force to make Cinderella – who sits atop the desk next to Dixa – bounce up ever so slightly.
“Everything okay, Bigby?” Cindy asks, knowing is wasn't, but not wanting to bluntly enquire whether or not the Sheriff thought he was going to turn into a wild beast again.
“Yeah, yeah. Um, no. Some of the bones haven't found their damn sockets yet and keep moving about.”
What follows on Cindy's face is an expression of concern, disgust, amazement, and puzzlement in one simultaneous combination that would make an artist yelp with excitement. Fly, meanwhile, lowers himself back into the spare seat by the window, realisizing that his plan to jump out it into the fog if Bigby transformed would probably have ended with his death anyway.
Weasel sympathizes with the Sheriff. “I hope those bones find where they're going soon, Bigby.”
“Thanks. Now, where were you? And who's Spring-Heeled Jack?” He asks, mindful of the name on the board.
“Aha!” Begins Mr. Weasel, who's read far too many of these new fictional crime books and has begun to fancy himself something of the sleuth. He starts pacing the room, hand on chin. “Dixa, here, related to me the description of the fiend who, erm, kicked her off the side of a tall building.” Weasel loses his eagerness quickly as the images of Dixa bleeding upon the hard road swim into his mind; Bigby's eyebrows arch, not knowing anything of this prior and surprised to see Dixa in such fine condition. He puts his hand gently on her arm, asks if she's okay - to which she replies that she's fine and thanks him, smiling.
Mr Weasel continues. “Thankfully, Dixa here is made of strong stuff, being a Yeti and all; and in a fair fight that bastard wouldn't have stood a chance. Anyway, the description she has provided: a man wearing a large coat, with a 17th century helmet upon his head and long black hair, fiery eyes, particularly sturdy boots, and a red waistcoat. Similar to the one I'm wearing now, I suppose.” Mr Weasel is indeed wearing such a garment, and appears rather dashing in it by all accounts. “And one other key point: there was a rose fastened onto his waistcoat, beneath the jacket, only visible when Dixa was below him.”
Mr Weasel quickly surveys all the faces to confirm he has their attention, is assured of the fact, and then carries on.
“This description matches exactly to that of one 'Spring-Heeled Jack', who, over many of the past decades has been roaming Britain and causing much trouble.” He stands still a moment, looking thoughtful. “Actually, it might have been over the past few hundred years. One finds years passing quite imperceptibly with a long life, don't you agree?” He gives a brief smile at them, but if Mr. Weasel is hoping for a unison of nodding heads he does not receive it. Everyone just carries on looking at him blankly. “That wasn't actually a rhetorical question. Never mind. I'll carry on.” After awkwardly, yet lightly, clearing his throat, he continue with his speech and his pacing.
“I had correspondence with a friend over there telling how the villain was being such a problem by randomly attacking the Mundies of London, being a specter in the mists and lashing out at them; and not always for an apparent reason, stealing little if anything from those he attacked. The Fables of London-town were forced to drive him out; which served London fine, but Spring-Heeled Jack set about travelling the country, and became something of a highway-man. Reports of the vagabond originated from many small towns, and even a few cities: Birmingham, Sheffield, Manchester. He didn't go too far north, and the last reported sighting came from Liverpool, where I now suspect he must have stowed away upon a vessel bound for these shores.”
Finally, Mr. Weasel comes to a standing stop in front of the blackboard, waiting for a thanks, perhaps, for having explained it all at last. Cinderella speaks first, but withholds the thanks for another time.
“So, this Spring-Heeled Jack just randomly attacks people until enough stand up against him, at which point he moves on to terrorize some other poor souls?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“That's not how it is,” came a deep voice from the doorway.
Mr. Weasel rotates on the spot. “Oh, Beast. Hello,” is his greeting, tone indicating that he's a little put out by the sudden arrival of one who would immediately deny his theory. “Care to elucidate your claim?” Only when perturbed does Mr. Weasel bring forth the word 'elucidate'.
The words seem an effort, but Beast explains. “Spring-Heeled Jack might now be his name, but he wouldn't attack people without reason, and certainly not civilians.” As Beast puts his hand against the door-frame it becomes obvious that the man has been through a rough time.
“And how would you know?” Asks Mr. Weasel.
“He's my brother.”
Part Two will follow soon - it's mostly Beast explaining things, so I thought I'd separate the chapter to make it all a bit easier to read. After that, there's only one chapter left! Which may or may not be split, but I don't really care: I'm just looking forward to finishing this story that's been on my mind for about two months. ^_^ Questions? Ask away! And thanks for reading!
Curious fact: While I was researching the urban legend of 'Spring-Heeled Jack', I found a report of him from my home city, Sheffield. The city has over two million trees, making it the greenest in Europe by ratio of trees to population; and we're in Yorkshire, where many people sound exactly like Georgie Porgie. I went to school with a few people that used much of the same language, thinking about it. Anyway, one of these supposed sightings of Spring-Heeled Jack involved, as I recall, a ghost-like figure in a park, no doubt alarming some fo the women and frightening some of the men. The cause? Literally, a man wearing a white sheet. Seriously. Like in the cartoons. We're a curious bunch up north. ^_^
Rose rips open a soy sauce packet and drowns her pork fried rice in the salty thickness. Robert plays with his food. He pokes the broccoli with the ends of the fork and pushes the noodles around. He takes a bite from his orange chicken but has no desire to eat.
"I don't like that word. Hate labels..."
"What...chick?"
Robert closes the top and places his leftover food on the coffee table. He hunches over and rubs the side. The ribs feel like jelly rolls, as he massages the muscles with his fingers.
"No-" Robert tries to hold back the tears. "Folker."
"Well...she kinda IS a Folker chick. Those Werewolves are loco in the coco, Robby."
Robert glares over. He watches Rose scoop up a heaping helping of both rice and kung pao chicken. Pieces of green onion and carrot stick to her bottom lip, as Rose chews and chews and chews.
"Loco in the coco, Rose?"
"Yes. You heard me-loco in the coco. They STALK their females and sometimes follow them when they head into town. I've even heard stories of their packs choosing their future mates, just to please the Council and avoid bullshit."
"That doesn't make Lyla insane. So her family and her kind are a little off. Look at us-"
Rose takes a drink from her Dr. Pepper. "What? Grendels or-"
"Yeah, Grendels. We roll in mud, our skin is ice cold; our toes and hands are webbed, we look like Frogs on steroids and to top THAT off, we build caves and our mates MUST give birth near or in water."
Rose rolls her eyes. "THOSE are traditions, natures way and YOU following your natural instincts."
Robert exhales. The agony lingering in his body and bones makes it difficult to even adjust while sitting on the couch. Robert attempts to reach for a nearby pillow but his arms can not reach and the bruising on his side stick to him like glue. Rose, feeling sorry for the beast, tosses him the heart shapped pillow. Robert props the soft pillow behind his head.
"Thanks."
"You looked ridiculous. Reminded me of those turtles that are stuck on their backs."
"Gee...thanks, Rose"
Rose points to his takeout tray. "Ya' done eating already, Robert?"
"I'll save that for later. Lost my appetite..."
Rose stands up and carries the leftovers to the kitchen. Robert watches as she places them in the fridge and toss the forks into the sink. They loudly clink against the metal. Rose washes her hands and returns to the couch. Reaching for the remote, she grabs a nearby blanket, covers her and Robert's feet up and searches the channels.
"Well, since I'm going to babysit you, what'ta like to watch?"
"Babysit me? No, no, no-I gotta go! I need to get ahold of Lyla and-"
Rose shakes her head. "If those flea bags with teeth KNOW about you two, they're going to do everything in their power to keep her away. Plus, if they see you TRYING to reach her on THEIR side, they'll kill you on the spot."
"How do you know this, Rose?"
Rose continues searching the menu for a show. "I used to date this Werewolf Folker YEARS ago. The war between our kind was fresh and the hip new thing to talk about. We dated for months before his pack came sniffing around and picked up my smell."
Robert moved closer. "What happened? I mean, if you don't mind-"
"The Mayor, Sheriff and my annoying sister made it a point to sit me down and lecture me like I was a child. For the werewolf Folker, well....when they found out, last I heard they banished him from the city and exhiled him. I'm not sure if he's even alive or not."
"Fuck, dude." Robert's eye looked out the window. "That's...horrible."
"And THIS is why WE stay on our side and THEY stay on their side. The ways its ALWAYS been since we arrived to the mundy world."
"But Rose, you don't get it. I love her."
Rose pauses the show. Holding the remote against her chin, she begins to process the words that flew from Robert's lips.
"You LOVE a Folker, Robert?"
"Yes."
"Do you even know the kind of punishment you two will get? And God forbid you fuck and produce kids and-"
"We did have sex, Rose."
Rose's jaw nearly fell to the floor. She could not believe what her ears were hearing. She glanced over at Robert. Still shirtless and rubbing his side, Rose knew this must have been his first REAL crush in a very long time. No Fable, (especially a Grendel) took such risk on an enemy. Rose again tapped the remote to her lips and thought. She couldn't be a hypocrite; her and the Folker male engaged in sexual activities and although it was taboo, Rose loved taking risks and in a way, was a middle finger to both sides. Robert, however, automatically did not scream 'risk taker' which worried Rose just a bit.
Perhaps he HAD fallen in love and this was their way of creating a double life, while remaining loyal to their sides.
"Consensual or-"
"The fuck!?" Robert tried to sit up. "YES!"
Rose chuckles. "Whoa, whoa! Easy there, big guy! I was just playing with you."
"That's not very funny, Rose. I really care and love this girl."
"You didn't mark her, did you?"
Robert cocks his eyebrow. "MARK her?"
Rose looks at Robert with an annoyed look. "Now, I KNOW someone like yourself is aware of markings and what they can do to a person-"
"I do."
"Okay. So, again-did you mark her or-"
Robert could recall the sun symbol tattooed on his arm. It was not there before; after he and Lyla connected between the sheets and the night carried on, it imprinted itself into Robert's flesh. He couldn't detect one on Lyla or see any visible markings. It must have only latched itself onto to him. He tried to cover it with the blanket. He'd come clean later. Not now.
"No. I did not."
"Well good, good." Rose leans back into the couch. "I hear its a BITCH to remove."
Robert tries to sit up. "Say, um, did you ever go and get my phone-"
"Oh yeah." Rose reaches into her pocket and hands it over to Robert. "Sorry. Forgot."
"You forgot?"
Rose sips from her soda can. "God you are crabby when you're hurt! Shit, calm down."
"I NEEDED this phone, Rose! What if Lyla tried-"
"I TOLD you, she ain't going to call you now that THEY know about it! You'll be lucky if she is still alive or remembers you at all!"
"She'll remember and we'll find a way to be together."
Rose sighs. There was no point in continuing the arguing with a brick wall. Robert would not budge. Rose grabs the remote and turns the volume back up. Robert, frustrated with Rose's lack of sympathy, manages to lift himself up. He wobbles to the nearest bedroom, shuts the door and dials Lyla's cell number. It instantly goes to voicemail.
Robert's heart nearly stops, as the recorded message plays in his ear.
"We are sorry. The person you are trying to reach in unavaliable at the moment. Please leave a message or try your call again."
Robert swallows back the tears. "Hey, Lyla. It's me. Uh, when you get this call me back. Just want to make sure you are alright. I know I've had worse..hehe...so, ummm, yeah. Just, call me back when you get this, okay? Love you."
Robert again tries again. Same thing. He repeats this process for two minutes before giving up. She'd call back. She had to, right?
Robert pushed his finger on the contact list button and found Gren. He would need help getting back home. Outside, Robert could hear Rose laughing at the show; from what he could hear, some Jersey guy was caught in the hot tub with three Grenades and he was drunk, while playing the Violin.
"Haha, what an idiot!" Rose screams as if these people can hear her. "You stupid asshole! Hey, sweetheart-LEAVE HIM! Look at this jerk!"
Robert rolled his eyes, as his brother answered the phone call. Robert's mind was lost in his own thoughts, even as his brother repeated his name over and over. Lyla.
That's all Robert wanted. Lyla. ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,`
Any questions or comments, leave them below. Got my grades back for the semester. Did pretty damn good I should say! Pie loves the rain but I'm not a huge fan. Too damn cold for my taste. Oh man...hear thunder! 0.0'
Winter telling them about the elves and reindeer is definitely a highlight. xD As is Robbie, with his teachings one minute and dumb-struck silence the next! You're right about Hanukkah starting yesterday! Unless you posted it yesterday - I don't know because of the time zone difference to the time stamp, but it was the 16th, apparently. I don't celebrate it, but you made me curious, and if you Google 'Hanukkah', it shows a unique header which is pretty neat!
A trip to the North Pole. That's what this is, isn't it? Ash flew beside her fanciful grandmother as they made their way to the North Wind K… moreingdom. She was the head of the pack, leading Noah, Robert, and Elora. She was also responsible for the list. They landed on the icy outside grounds in front of the grand entrance to their home away from home. Uncle Dare and Uncle Isaac were wolves, prancing around in the snow like two children after eating an entire pack of pixie sticks.
"Whoop whoop!" Isaac yowled as he spotted his nieces and nephews. "They're here!"
Dare laughed. "Right, I see them too you know."
They changed into human in a split second, the older brother giving Isaac a noogie as they approached the children. Hugs were exchanged, as was customary in the family. Winter led her family through the front doors of her expansive castle, her long flowing hair blowing in the wind that picked up as each door widened. Ash was always st… [view original content]
where many people sound exactly like Georgie Porgie.
That's hot. xD I think the British accent is wonderful music to my ears and I THINK one of the reasons why Georgie never bothered me.
Ahem, well....sorry if that came off creepy. ANYWAYS, Wolf....XD
I've heard of Spring-heeled Jack before. If I remember correctly, he was mentioned on one of the past threads LOOONG ago. One of the users said he was either the villian in the 4th episode (ended up being Jersey) or they said he WOULD make a great villian for season 2. Either way, being a curious creature that I am, I looked it up. It would be interesting to see how he becomes involved with Mr. Weasel and the gang.
also, picturing everyone in front of the blackboard made me smile in a good way. Mr. Weasel using a stepping stool to reach the top. XD And that ending! I thought perhaps this was Beast's brother from your previous story. BELIEVE his name was Bertnard. (correct me if I'm wrong. I'm horrible with remembering names the first couple of times) But if I recall, he died.
Will be interesting to read Beast's section in regards to his brother, Spring-Heeled Jack and his BG. Great job. I know a lot of users have said this but the word choice and description reminds me of those really good soap operas from way back. Also, lucky that you are surrounded by all those beautiful trees and what not. Sure, I'm by th beach but being around nature like that would be an awesome change. Neat little tid bit of information, too!
Chapter Nine – O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Part One (not a typo )
Mr. Weasel is writing a name upon the blackboard in Dr. Jekyll's offi… morece using a small stick of pastel red chalk. His large, looping letters cause much chalk dust to drop softly onto the wooden sill at the bottom. He finishes the last letter of the name and rubs a period on the board with great emphasis.
“Spring-Heeled Jack,” he declares, turning around to face the four others in the office. Well, there are actually five, however Prince Charming remains in a dream-state on the floor and is as such not entirely present.
Miss Muffet chimes up first, sitting in Jekyll's chair by the side of his desk. “You could have said it instead of submitting us to this silly drama.” She waves dismissively at the board.
“You really don't like you, do you Miss Muffet.”
“Well --”
Before the disagreement can come to a boil - and much to the relief of Cinderella, Dixa and Flycatc… [view original content]
What would we all do without the internet?! Anyway, this character (who's name I shall not reveal), really, really has it in for any sort of festive cheer. Which is sad, but I'm sure Bigby and Clara will get this villain apprehended!
Christmas Challenge: Frenzy Friday
Somewhere else.....
"YOU BETTER NOT HURT HER!!!" A man yelled, but it was no use he was chained dow… moren with no strength to break the chains.
"Would you kindly shut the fuck up please?" A very unfriendly woman said
"He-he took my cousin I gotta do something!" He retaliated
He looked over at the woman talking to him, she looked like she was in her mid twenties, had short blonde hair, wore typical winter clothing, and looked pale like him except she didn't have red eyes but instead light blue eyes. She wasn't like him, he was different in that fact. He was hungry the beast was calling but he hated feasting on others......especially after the one incident that happened although with her mouth maybe he could make an exception....
"I don't give a shit who he took, I wanna sleep we'll probably be next soon for whatever messed up shit this lunatic has in store for us." she said
She looked over to … [view original content]
Hmm. A Fable and Halfer hating Folker. That ain't a short list, but to attack the club so violent and viciously - to murder? That's extreme. Is it someone we've met before, or a new person?
The rain was heavy as Ethan pulled up to the familiar home on the outskirts of Fabletown. The wheels to his car buried deep in the thicket o… moref mud, twigs and dead leaves. A blanket of lightning and the sound of thunder rang in the darkness. Ethan turned his headlights off, as his wipers continued to fling themselves back and forth. WHOOOOSH WHOOOSH Ethan leaned back into his seat, grabbed his phone and attempted to call Peter once more.
"You have one new message. First unheard message: Hey Ethan. Shit....umm, where are you at? Hey, umm, hurry up with those files, man! Emily just....Emily was attacked; she's here with Gren and I'm heading over there right now. Just, be careful out there."
Ethan heard only the sound of ringing, as he sighed and ended the call. Startled by the sudden pounding at his window, Ethan jumped in his seat and covered his heart. He stepped out of the vehicle; the rain poured down, soaking his jacket and brown hair.… [view original content]
Hmmm...so, forget Remus! That's who I thought was doing this but you mentioned he's trying to be 'better.' Well, there goes that theory. I w… moreonder who it can be....hmmm...
I thought the entire thing with Gren, Peter and Georgie was hillarious. 'SHUT UP DAD!' Gren really and I mean really needs to back the hell up with that whole BS. At least he's trying to be friendly with Peter and everyone else. And vivian. I'm loving her in this story and can't wait to see how she plays everything out in the end. Also, Nick...WHERE is he!?
And my theory seems to be coming true. cough cough XD
Also, have you seen this picture:
Can't wait to see more! Love this!
Nah, I'm actually flattered that someone likes it so much. XD One of the daughter's of my next-door neighbour met a Californian in America and got married; I met him last year and, oh my, that accent. Seriously, I could listen to it all day.
Yeah, I vaguely remember someone mentioning him as being a good villain. The main reason I picked him was that I wanted to do something Victorian, which he fitted perfectly, and the fact that he was reported (in some manner) in my city. Curiously, in some of the Penny Dreadfulls of the time they actually turned him into something of a hero instead of a villain.
Bertrand is his name! And he did die. That's all I'm going to say for now.
I appreciate your comment about my word choice! I love old, classic novels so a lot of it probably comes from that. I'm actually mid-way between the city and the country, but still with plenty of trees. You need somewhere with beach and trees.
where many people sound exactly like Georgie Porgie.
That's hot. xD I think the British accent is wonderful music to my ears and I T… moreHINK one of the reasons why Georgie never bothered me.
Ahem, well....sorry if that came off creepy. ANYWAYS, Wolf....XD
I've heard of Spring-heeled Jack before. If I remember correctly, he was mentioned on one of the past threads LOOONG ago. One of the users said he was either the villian in the 4th episode (ended up being Jersey) or they said he WOULD make a great villian for season 2. Either way, being a curious creature that I am, I looked it up. It would be interesting to see how he becomes involved with Mr. Weasel and the gang.
also, picturing everyone in front of the blackboard made me smile in a good way. Mr. Weasel using a stepping stool to reach the top. XD And that ending! I thought perhaps this was Beast's brother from your previous story. BELIEVE his name was Bertnard. (correct me if … [view original content]
That's a brilliant description, but a horrible image. xD Which makes it even better, because I don't think Robert's ribs are going to be looking so good right now. Plus, the line about frogs on steroids and a turtle on it's back were particular highlights.
Ah, Robert. You've not known Lyla five minutes and you're already head over heels. I wonder, if he hadn't been marked, whether he'd still act in the same way at all; but, it doesn't really matter. This is how things go. I kind of hope they get a little bit more time together before they get separated - just have to wait and see.
Congratulations on your grades! Have fun celebrating, if you do.
"You're interested in a Folker chick?"
Rose rips open a soy sauce packet and drowns her pork fried rice in the salty thickness. Robert pl… moreays with his food. He pokes the broccoli with the ends of the fork and pushes the noodles around. He takes a bite from his orange chicken but has no desire to eat.
"I don't like that word. Hate labels..."
"What...chick?"
Robert closes the top and places his leftover food on the coffee table. He hunches over and rubs the side. The ribs feel like jelly rolls, as he massages the muscles with his fingers.
"No-" Robert tries to hold back the tears. "Folker."
"Well...she kinda IS a Folker chick. Those Werewolves are loco in the coco, Robby."
Robert glares over. He watches Rose scoop up a heaping helping of both rice and kung pao chicken. Pieces of green onion and carrot stick to her bottom lip, as Rose chews and chews and chews.
"Loco in the coco, Rose?"
"Yes. You heard me-loco in the co… [view original content]
I did. 0_o My hand hurts and I spent SOOOO long and made SOOOO many mistakes but I liked it in the end. I'm no artist but I thought he'd appreciate the gesture.
Haha well, then my accent would probably lead you to requesting a homemade playlist of all the funny things we Americans say. XD Its funny hearing those not from America think we have awesome accents. You still win!
Well, knowing they actually turned him into a hero and not a villian sounds very promising and has my attention. Either way, good OR bad, I'm looking forward to it.
And yes! Score for JJ and his ability to pay attention! XD Ah-I see what you did there! Then I shall wait with such patience!
And no problem. Its something I envy and to be honest, the style fits beautifully in your stories. I know Pie would love to move to the country; not so much m but the way you describe it makes me yearn to make a week's vacation out of it.
Nah, I'm actually flattered that someone likes it so much. XD One of the daughter's of my next-door neighbour met a Californian in America a… morend got married; I met him last year and, oh my, that accent. Seriously, I could listen to it all day.
Yeah, I vaguely remember someone mentioning him as being a good villain. The main reason I picked him was that I wanted to do something Victorian, which he fitted perfectly, and the fact that he was reported (in some manner) in my city. Curiously, in some of the Penny Dreadfulls of the time they actually turned him into something of a hero instead of a villain.
Bertrand is his name! And he did die. That's all I'm going to say for now.
I appreciate your comment about my word choice! I love old, classic novels so a lot of it probably comes from that. I'm actually mid-way between the city and the country, but still with plenty of trees. You need somewhere with beach and trees.
I assume robert's ribs and bruised flesh does not look like a work of art in a French museum but it is still fun to write about, considering he is a Fable and I'd like to pretend and say Grendels are disgusting, yet intriguing creatures to watch heal themselves. XD The Frog part. When I played the 1st episode for the first time, those were my EXACT words: Dafuq are you, a Frog on steroids?!
Ah Robert and his foolish ways. If I'm not mistaken (pie please correct me if I'm saying this wrong) but once the mark appears and has fastened itself into your skin, your feelings for that person will remain until you decide to remove it. Robert has one, which allows him to be in love with Lyla. They will indeed have some time together before, well....you know...
Why thank you my good man! Tonight, I dine on takeout and drink cheap wine! XD JK not sure but whew! Big relief!
The ribs feel like jelly rolls
That's a brilliant description, but a horrible image. xD Which makes it even better, because I don't … morethink Robert's ribs are going to be looking so good right now. Plus, the line about frogs on steroids and a turtle on it's back were particular highlights.
Ah, Robert. You've not known Lyla five minutes and you're already head over heels. I wonder, if he hadn't been marked, whether he'd still act in the same way at all; but, it doesn't really matter. This is how things go. I kind of hope they get a little bit more time together before they get separated - just have to wait and see.
Congratulations on your grades! Have fun celebrating, if you do.
You may say you're no artist, but that picture speaks otherwise. I know hardly any of the technical aspects of art, however, I think you've really nailed those shadows, which can be very tricky! I certainly reckon he will!
I did. 0_o My hand hurts and I spent SOOOO long and made SOOOO many mistakes but I liked it in the end. I'm no artist but I thought he'd appreciate the gesture.
Hmm. A Fable and Halfer hating Folker. That ain't a short list, but to attack the club so violent and viciously - to murder? That's extreme. Is it someone we've met before, or a new person?
Not Remus. When I saw the PM I figure I'd answer here. And no...not Malcom either. Would defeat the purpose of him mated WITH a Halfer. I will add hints and clues as to who it is. And damn dude...0_o I love that picture!!!! OMG! So beautiful! I loved it! Gren and Ems looks amazing!
Hmmm...so, forget Remus! That's who I thought was doing this but you mentioned he's trying to be 'better.' Well, there goes that theory. I w… moreonder who it can be....hmmm...
I thought the entire thing with Gren, Peter and Georgie was hillarious. 'SHUT UP DAD!' Gren really and I mean really needs to back the hell up with that whole BS. At least he's trying to be friendly with Peter and everyone else. And vivian. I'm loving her in this story and can't wait to see how she plays everything out in the end. Also, Nick...WHERE is he!?
And my theory seems to be coming true. cough cough XD
Also, have you seen this picture:
Can't wait to see more! Love this!
"And I want a kite, and a bear, and a castle, and a..."
Noah tuned out of Elora's chatter to Santa as he observed their surroundings. They were in his small cottage, which was on the other side of the hill they met him on. Santa was a jolly man, who never seemed to stop smiling. It didn't creep Noah out, but he definitely thought it was weird. He shuffled across the uneven floorboards toward the crackling fireplace. There always seemed to be a fire burning in someone's house during this time of year. His mother put on the fake fireplace all the time at home, even when it was too hot to bear the heat sometimes.
He crossed his arms, watching as Ash handed Santa the list she was responsible for. In all honesty, Noah didn't much like the Christmas holiday. Too commercialized by the mundies. It was also so flashy, and people acted as if life itself was built upon the season.
He pushed his way to the kitchen, or what he assumed must be the kitchen. Despite the refrigerator and stove, it looked more like another toy workshop. They'd seen dozens of those on the way to his house. Leaned on the back of a chair, he picked up a cookie from a nearby plate and stuffed it in his mouth.
"Ah, there you are," Santa's gravelly voice filled the room. It was just him and Noah.
"Oh," Noah said. "Hi."
Santa smiled again, walking slowly over to where Noah stood. He was a tall man, near six feet if Noah had to guess. Santa's smirk vanished though, into a concerned line.
Well, that was a first. Noah flexed his muscles, crossing his arms tightly as he had before.
"Tell me, son," Santa said. He took a seat in the opposite chair of Noah, picking up a cookie of his own. "Tell me what you want for Christmas."
Noah let out a low sarcastic laugh. "Is that all? You just want to know what I want? I don't know."
Santa slowly shook his head, swallowing what he'd bitten from the gingerbread man. "No, no. That's not all. I want to know what's on your mind. You don't seem particularly interested. At least, not as much as your siblings."
Noah sighed, turning his chair around to sit in it. He and Santa were face to face, looking across at each other at each end of the small wood table. The table was also strewn with toys of various shapes and sizes. They looked much more traditional than the toys that were made in the shops. It looked like Santa was not particularly interested in arranging the latest smart phones or coffee makers in the personal space of his home.
Noah touched the hand of a Jack in the Box, twisting it halfway to make the little musical sound it normally made.
"I made that one yesterday," Santa said, sipping from a cup of milk. "My wife told me it wasn't as good as the one I made last year, but she still liked the designs I drew."
Noah studied the lines written over it. Flowers, with bursts of different colors. He actually quite liked the detailing. His hand brushed over a wooden pull toy, with a yellow string out the front long enough for a young toddler to use.
"That one's a duck, if you hadn't noticed," Santa told him. "Kids love pulling ducks around. It quacks, too. I used a little squeaky horn that is pressed on every full rotation of the wheel."
Noah was fascinated now, staring at all the intricate toy soldiers, tops, dolls, and trains. It reminded him of his childhood, when out of all the fancy toys, each child would get one much simpler than the others. Those happened to be his favorite toys when Christmas time would arrive.
"Can I have this little bear?" Noah asked. It was a teddy, about the size of his hand, sewn professionally with patchwork fur. It was cute, and he had someone in particular he wanted to give it to.
"Of course. It wasn't meant for anyone, really. But seriously, Noah. Is there a single thing you want for Christmas? Anything I can give you?"
Noah almost didn't say it. He paused a moment, flipping the bear around in his hand. "My girlfriend," He started. His finger fiddled with the black buttons eyes of the bear. "She's a ghost. And I can't see her as often as I would like. Is there anything you can do?"
Santa pursed his lips, now stained with milk, placing his mug down. He sat backward in his chair, crossing his arms just like Noah had earlier.
"I don't know how much I can do," He admitted. "But...."
Noah scooted eagerly to the edge of his seat, just so he could catch every word Santa was about to utter.
"I could possibly let her stay for one whole day. Sunrise, to sunset. You can choose the day-"
"Christmas Morning. Please."
Santa smiled, standing up from his chair. "That sounds good to me. When you wake up in the morning, instead of seeing her gone, she will still be beside you. I promise you that. But it will only be for one day, okay?"
Noah nodded. "It's okay. Of course it's okay. Thank you!" His face was now lit up cheerfully. He left the room, rejoining his family in the living room. Santa let out a 'Ho Ho Ho!' laugh as he followed, joining the impromptu party being held by Winter and her grandchildren.
"The gifts for Mrs. Wolf will be all ready in a few more minutes. Enjoy the cookies until then," Santa told them.
All was good.
Pretty much almost done I have tons of plans for the next couple chapters, but I might wait until tomorrow to write some of them! Hope you liked this, any questions comment below TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL I'M OFF OF SCHOOL FOR 2 WEEKS IM SO EXCITED!
Also, going to see the third Hobbit movie this Friday even though I haven't seen the second and only seen half of the first. Go me! My parents are also throwing a party friday so I'll be doing that before leaving for the theater and I also have THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL FRIDAY I'M SO PUMPED and my club that I'm in is throwing a holiday party after school tomorrow COOKIES AND HOT COCOA
I'm exactly that person Noah would dislike because I LIVE for the Holidays XDD
"STOP DRAWING PENISES ON MY PAPERWORK!" Bluebeard demand slamming his hands on Snow's desk, his brow buckled in annoyance at the young man in front of him. At first the idea of having Jersey's son Bradwr along side them seemed useful, he was married to Scarlett, the daughter of Bloody Mary who seemed to share her bloodlust for the Wolf family, and Bradwr knew a fair share about Medusa's affairs. Sadly that meant putting up with Bradwr and his childish ways.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Bradwr replied coolly as he took a large bite out of a bean burrito wrapped in tin foil.
Swearing under his breath Bluebeard dug into his pants pocket and retrieved a sheet of paper. It was white and the text was written in black ink, the most noticeable feature of the sheet through was the penis drawn in red ink.
"Are you telling me you didn't do this?" he hissed at Bradwr. It was becoming more and more clear on why Scarlett longed to make Bradwr suffer, and most likely it would had happened even if Bradwr didn't leave her to die in a burning buliting.
"I'm telling you baldly, it wasn't me." he said through a mouthful of burrito. The sloppy contents dripped onto Snow's desk, ruining more papers. "It could have been anyone, maybe it was Snow White?"
"Ah yes, how could I be so foolish?" he rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner. "Of course Miss White, deputy mayor of Fabletown, would most certainly be drawing genitals upon my papers."
"See? Now you can go bring it up with her when all this shit is dealt with." Bradwr swallowed and took another bite. "Gee Bluebeard, what's got your panties in a twist?"
"Well... considering I spend five whole days vomiting up snakes-"
"Alright, alright, I hear Ya...burrito?" he offered. Bluebeard simply scoffed and slapped the burrito out of Bradwr's grip. It fell on Snow's formally clean desk, now just a sloppy mess.
"You could had just said no..." Bradwr frown looking at the bean and tortilla mess before him. "It was a damn good burrito... you owe me a new one."
"If it gets you out of business office then I'll gladly agree. Why are you even here anyway?"
"Just waiting for Lyall to return, plus I like the Magic mirror. It's kind of like a rap battle." Bradwr picked at his nails. "And this place has free wifi."
"Explain to me why Scarlett agreed to marry you?"
"My wonderful charm and charisma?"
"I highly doubt it."
"Your the one to talk, by the looks of it your love life isn't doing any better." Bradwr mused. "Plus you did kill the majority of your wives, I only almost killed mine, Just saying."
Bluebeard sighed, never in his had he wanted to rid himself of someone more then Bigby before in his life. The temptation to reach over and grab the idiot by the neck was quickly eased when Snow entered the office.
"I got the results from Swineheart." Snow White said as she entered the office, a file in her hands.
"About those snakes old pukey was vomiting for the past few days?" Bradwr asked.
"Yes and-" Snow paused and looked at the sloppy burrito mess on her desk. "I swear to god Bradwr..."
"Hey Bluebeard's the one who knocked it out of my hand!"
"You were the one drawing genitals on my paper work." Bluebeard reminded him.
"I told you Snow White did it!"
"I swear when this is over...." Snow grumbled under breath shaking her head. "Moving on to more pressing matters, As I was saying Swineheart finished up his analysis on those snakes you have been er... choking up for the past few days."
"About damn time." muttered Bluebeard crossing his arms. "Does his report say how they got in me?"
"Believe it or not yes." Snow stated. "Apparently you ate the egg-"
"Impossible, I would had remembered swallowing snake eggs whole." he scoffed.
"That's the thing Bluebeard, according to Swineheart they been... altered."
"Altered? Altered how?"
"The real question is what isn't altered about them. These snakes... they aren't normal. They show greater intelligence then normal ones, understand human speech... and thank god you came to Swineheart right away." she explained going over the file. "Within three days the babies started to develop deadly venom."
"How deadly?"
"Enough to kill a Fable in seconds, a whole minute being the most someone would have to live."
"That doesn't explain how they got in me though. I don't recall eating snakes or whole eggs." Bluebeard reminded.
"Like I said everything about them has been altered, even the eggs they hatch out of. These snakes came from smaller eggs, very small and dark. You recall eating something like that?"
Yes, he did in fact. During the events when Scarlett and Bradwr attempted to kill Lyall. He did allow himself to indulge in some caviar, the carter who offered it was wiped from his memory.
"Yes..." he said. He turned to Bradwr. "What do you know about Medusa and her snakes?"
"If she ain't buying them she's breeding them. She's like a crazy cat lady, only with snakes." he said. "All she needs is a few grandkids, some wrinkles, and to learn how to knit."
"That's all you know?" Bluebeard hissed at him.
"Hey, Scarlett was around her more then me! Not my fault that snake lady favoured her over me."
"I can see why." Snow muttered once again glancing at the mess on her desk.
"So let me get this straight, Medusa sneaked these... altered snake eggs into my body for no good reason?!" Bluebeard hissed. "I have no business with that woman at all!"
"Could be a warning, or she's just messing with your head." Bradwr shrugged. "She's always playing some sort of game..."
"Did Lyall return yet?" Snow asked glancing about business office.
"Not yet, still investigated what Medusa's next move might be." Bradwr adjusted his glasses. "Told him about a few places where Medusa is most likely lingering around Fabletown. She's got eyes everywhere, if not her HQ then it's something else relating to her. Could be an illegal business, a snake breeding farm, or just about anything really. She's always so damn unpredictable."
XXX
"I hope your right about this." Snow White stated glaring at Bradwr with fierceness in her blue eyes. "Because if this is some sort of trap you can be sure you will be charged to the fullest extent for your part in this ordeal."
Snow could never be sure of Bradwr, son of the Jersey Devil and an attempted murderer... he seemed so sleazy and slicker then motor oil, yet he agreed to help them, he could have very useful answers or explanations to Medusa and Scarlett's affairs. Right now all they could do is wait.
XXX
And their we go first part of Cat and mouse
Also since it's the Holidays have some Lyall and Scarlett "enjoying" the one of the many joys of the Holidays (if Scarlett doesn't rip off his other leg that is)
I'm writing it on a document first. I want Cindy Lu Lew's Journey to be awesome. The north pole in my story will be awesome and she'll meet new people .
Sadly - especially because of that excellent BattleBlock Theatre reference - I do not currently reside anywhere near Baker Street. Though p… moreerhaps one day I shall, my Dragon friend. One day.
goes off and plays violin while being delightfully anti-social ;D
I'm writing it on a document first. I want Cindy Lu Lew's Journey to be awesome. The north pole in my story will be awesome and she'll meet new people .
If you had to draw gentials on anyone's paperwork, it probably would be Bluebeard's. I feel sorry for Snow and her desk, though; or perhaps I should feel sorry for Bradwr and him having to cope with Snow's fury! Entertaining dialogue in this chapter.
Cat and mouse
Chapter one
Planning
"STOP DRAWING PENISES ON MY PAPERWORK!" Bluebeard demand slamming his hands on Snow's desk, his … morebrow buckled in annoyance at the young man in front of him. At first the idea of having Jersey's son Bradwr along side them seemed useful, he was married to Scarlett, the daughter of Bloody Mary who seemed to share her bloodlust for the Wolf family, and Bradwr knew a fair share about Medusa's affairs. Sadly that meant putting up with Bradwr and his childish ways.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Bradwr replied coolly as he took a large bite out of a bean burrito wrapped in tin foil.
Swearing under his breath Bluebeard dug into his pants pocket and retrieved a sheet of paper. It was white and the text was written in black ink, the most noticeable feature of the sheet through was the penis drawn in red ink.
"Are you telling me you didn't do this?" he hissed at Bradwr. It was becoming mor… [view original content]
Ladies and gentables, I have come back from the dead (again) to ask for your help regarding the Fable Storyteller awards! The past two days I've been skimming through your previous chapters to see how many Fables you guys have created for this topic. So far, the process has been somewhat slow.
Regardless, if any of you are willing to help me speed along the process by sending me the total number of Fables (including their names) you have created in a PM to me on here - it would be greatly appreciated. This also goes for how many stories you have finished in the past and how many chapters you have included in them. Therefore, if you haven't completed a story yet, then send me the current number of chapters you have finished so far.
Keep in mind, that you helping me with this is entirely optional. Though, I would appreciate it if you can help! If you are confused about any of this, let me know and I'll try to clarify further!
DragonButter's Vital Announcement
Ladies and gentables, I have come back from the dead (again) to ask for your help regarding the Fable S… moretoryteller awards! The past two days I've been skimming through your previous chapters to see how many Fables you guys have created for this topic. So far, the process has been somewhat slow.
Regardless, if any of you are willing to help me speed along the process by sending me the total number of Fables (including their names) you have created in a PM to me on here - it would be greatly appreciated. This also goes for how many stories you have finished in the past and how many chapters you have included in them. Therefore, if you haven't completed a story yet, then send me the current number of chapters you have finished so far.
Keep in mind, that you helping me with this is entirely optional. Though, I would appreciate it if you can help! If you are confused about any of this, let me know and I'll try to clarify further!
Oh how exciting. we all know who MY fable is. I just have the one. Pie is gone for the day, so I will PM his for you. Cant wait for the awards.
Also, seeing all the results for those holiday themed challenges, too!
Katherine 'Katie' Porgie
Age: 19
Parents: Father; Georgie Porgie Mother; Lyla Smith
Powers: Katie, like her mother, has the abi… morelity to change into a werewolf. She has claw retraction, enhanced agility, speed, enhanced senses and hearing. As her father is a well known Fable, she is capable of withstanding anything that comes her path; she is a titan and is capable of handling anything. Katie also has a slight case of 'Semi-immortality.' Although she will eventually die in the future, Katie will not show signs of 'ageing' and continue to look young and radiant until the day she dies.
Siblings: Katie is part of Fabletown's 'Quad squad'; she has sisters Emily, Penny and brothers Junior, Ethan and Peter. The younger boys are not part of the 'quads;' they are fraternal twins; Ethan belongs to Georgie but Peter does not. Katie has some issues against Peter because of this very reason; tensions are created as they have gotten older.
… [view original content]
Tetra begins to list the things he couldn't do XD anyways yeah he's not very festive but they can come back from it right!? Hopefully they can! Thanks Lupine
What would we all do without the internet?! Anyway, this character (who's name I shall not reveal), really, really has it in for any sort of… more festive cheer. Which is sad, but I'm sure Bigby and Clara will get this villain apprehended!
And, of course, welcome back!
Comments
Vivian sat beside Emily, as she stroked her hair. Emily's flesh, despite warm to the touch, was the color of the snow outside the window. Vivian called Emily's name several times but it didn't do much. Vivian didn't know how she'd break the news to Emily. Or, if Emily would believe her at all.
The radio on the dresser played a soothing old country song. The man gently played his guitar, as he sang a sad ballad. Vivian continued playing with Emily's hair. Vivian preferred when it was down; Emily had such long, beautiful black locks that easily tangled between your fingers when you found yourself playing with them. Vivian always told Emily this when she insisted on keeping the Bowler hat. At times, it made Vivian's stomach turn when she wore that thing. So many bad memories.
The man continued to strike the chords. His voice was angelic. Vivian closed her eyes, as she stroked Emily's left arm. Still warm. There was a tapping on the door; Vivian noticed the door knob wobble and shake.
"Emily." Gren's voice was sympathetic. "Amelia, I'm comin' inside..."
Vivian remained in her spot. No one saw her besides the Porgie kids. She found this out when Emily was a little girl and Lyla walked into the room and did not notice the blonde woman in the purple dress. Since than, Vivian used this ability to check up on her favorite Porgie.
Gren, glass of water and sandwich in the other, headed in Emily's direction. He placed the sandwich on a nearby table. Vivian smiled, as he sat beside Emily. Gren reached over and began playing with Emily's hair.
"Emily..."
Emily's eyes fluttered open. She could not remember a thing, as her eyes darted around the room. She was in Gren's apartment; the empty beer bottles lining the shelves and dresser was an immediate give away. Plus, the dirty and small apartment, not to mention the cheap colonge, lingered in the air. Emily narrowed her eyes at Gren. His grin was enticing, as she tried to move.
"AH FOOK!" Gren grasped Emily and held her tight. Vivian, looking away, could only picture Georgie and that night at the Pudding and Pie. Georgie. All she heard was Georgie. This worried Vivian.
"EASY, Porgie!" Gren grabbed a pillow and propped Emily up. "Relax, sweetie. I got you. Here-I brought you your favorite sandwich."
Emily carefully reached for the plate now in Gren's hand.
"Woot is it?"
"Remember? Peanut Butter and Strawberry Jelly. No crusts."
Emily was astonished. "The fook ya' tryin' ta' do? Score some fookin' brownie points afta' woot ya' did ta' me in the club?"
"Look, I didn't HAVE to do anything! I didn't NEED to go back! If I hadn't gone back-"
Gren paused. Emily, biting into her sandwich, noticed Vivian. Vivian shakes her head and holds her index finger against her lips.
"The bloody 'ell happened, Grendel? Where is Felicia?"
Gren was inaudible. "Emily-"
Between Gren's voice and Vivian's eyes, Emily sadly knew the truth. The only problem was, she was not prepared.
Emily looked down at the sandwich. "She's dead, ain't she Gren?"
Gren nods. "I went back to say I was sorry. I called your brothers and-"
Emily threw the plate against the wall. It shattered, causing two of the nearby bottles to tumble to the ground. Vivian backed into the corner, as Gren did his best to calm Emily. Although she had pain in her head and lower thighs, she managed to tumble out of bed and flop on the floor. Emily landed with a THUD, nearly causing her wrists to cave in. Emily yelled in agony, as Gren kneeled beside and craddled the grief stricken woman.
"No! no, no, no, no...Not Felicia! Not her....no....no..."
"I got you, Emily..."
"Woot the fook happened in there, Gren? Woot did they-"
"I don't know, Emily. I returned to apologies and there was so much blood...fuck..."
"Hans Junior? Me dancers!?"
"He is alright. The only dancers to survive were Nina and Alicia. I found you at death's door. The fucker took a lead pipe to your legs and left you there to die with a fuckin' gash on the side of your leg...Emily-"
"Was it that Folker, Gren?"
Gren sighed. "I don't know, Emily....I don't know..."
"Ya' called Peter and Ethan, right?"
Emily wanted to include Vivian. The once woman on her father's side could only sit back and stare deep into Emily's troubled eyes. Gren noticed Emily looking in the right corner; he wanted to jump in and ask Emily the deal but refused to ask. He was already on her shit list. Gren didn't want to see where her anger would leave him.
"Yes. They are on their way."
"If anyone can figure this out, it will be my brother. My family is in danger, Gren."
"They are fine, Emily."
"They are afta' Fables AND Halfers."
Gren looked deep into Emily's eyes. "I know that, Porgie. I will call them later if it makes you feel better."
"Woot 'bout Felicia? Where-"
"Peter will notify Swineheart."
Emily pressed her face against Gren's chest. The warmth escaping his body was creating a bubble of comfort. It was a strange sensation to her. Emily wrapped her arms around Gren's torso and buried her face into Gren's shirt.
Vivan beamed, as she watched Emily and Gren remain in silence. Their moment came to a halt, as there was a loud knocking on the door. Gren looked up.
"Must be Peter..."
"Betta' get that."
"Here." Gren holds Emily up, as he places her back on the bed. "Relax while I go get them."
Emily leaned back into the sheets, as she could no longer hold back. Vivian took this opportunity to lay beside the girl and do her best to comfort. Vivian continued to stroke her hair. Emily weeped into Vivian's chest.
"Oh fook no...not Felicia!"
"I'm so sorry, Emily..."
"Ya' knew." Emily wiped her nose. "Ya' knew, didn't ya' Vivian?"
Vivian remaind silent. That was enough of an answer for her, as she heard the stomping of Peter's boots.
"Sheriff is here..."
Couldn't sleep. Had time. Any questions, you know the drill.
I figure you would appreciate it. Lol
Besides the relationship he creates with Lyla, I wanted to add Rose in there as well.
Like you said, it wasn't ALL bad...things just got complicated.
I love when Vivian shows up to be with Emily. I had no idea only the Porgie kids we here. So, that means Georgie can't see her. Ah-would make sense as to why you never added her in the prologues yet.
So, Felicia is gone and this unknown Folker nearly had Emily killed and the club end up in a blood bath. I'm wondering if this attack is against the clan now. Or they just hate the club, which leads me to Jumbo. I don't trust him at all.
I mentioned this before: he knows something and wont tell Peter. His Tailor too. His story mentions he went from rags to riches; not a lot of Fables had that chance and he just randomly ends up in the bathroom of Jumbo? And why Emily? Does this Folker know something? And Vivian knew this would happen. I mean, she DID tell Emily her life changes by meeting a soul just as lost and confused as she is.
Also damn. That begining where Vivian mentions the hat. She really hates knowing Emily has become the next Georgie Porgie. She, however, can't except this fate for Emily. Hmmmmm....and seeing Gren makes me wonder now....I'm glad he returned and is trying to make peace.
I wonder who the killer Folker is, what will the twins do about this and what Emily will do with the fate Vivian has given her. I still can't get over what Emily said from the story in regards to Junior: "no babies will pop out of my vagina!" AND I can't see her pregant OR without hat damn Bowler hat and I NEED to see if my theory is right!!!
Sorry for this long section! XD I just love where this is going! Cant wait for more!!
That is indeed the reason why I never included Vivian in the prologue; she is not meant to be seen by Georgie or any of the other Fables. She was sent ONLY for the Porgie kids, especially Emily, due to her being identical to her father. Vivian does not like how much she has taken on the old Georgie, as far as the club, attitude and way of life.
Her main concern has been Emily's fate. "She is destined to be the next Georgie Porgie of Fabletown." This alone was a red flag to Vivian, whish is why she cam to emily while in the shower to warn her.
I have an idea with Jumbo and daniel the Tailor; won't go too much into detail, as to avoid spoilers. The Folker is attacking these Fables and Halfers for a reason. I'll see if you and the other readers will pick up on it.
I mentioned before about Gren and know where I'm going as far as HE goes. If you wish to PM your theory, I can gladly tell you yess or no.
The rain was heavy as Ethan pulled up to the familiar home on the outskirts of Fabletown. The wheels to his car buried deep in the thicket of mud, twigs and dead leaves. A blanket of lightning and the sound of thunder rang in the darkness. Ethan turned his headlights off, as his wipers continued to fling themselves back and forth. WHOOOOSH WHOOOSH Ethan leaned back into his seat, grabbed his phone and attempted to call Peter once more.
"You have one new message. First unheard message: Hey Ethan. Shit....umm, where are you at? Hey, umm, hurry up with those files, man! Emily just....Emily was attacked; she's here with Gren and I'm heading over there right now. Just, be careful out there."
Ethan heard only the sound of ringing, as he sighed and ended the call. Startled by the sudden pounding at his window, Ethan jumped in his seat and covered his heart. He stepped out of the vehicle; the rain poured down, soaking his jacket and brown hair. He noticed Katie, wearing an enormous sweater and her neck layered in scarves. Behind her, Jersey sat and waited. He was in his true form. Perhaps looking out for the portential Fable and Halfer killer.
"HERE!" Katie tried to shout over the rain storm. "Malcom found these on file! I'm not sure if they will do much but-"
Ethan tucked the files under his arm. "How many did he manage to get?"
"Not a whole lot, Ethan. The majority of Folkers live in secret now. They keep their files on lockdown and its difficult tracing their footsteps because of it."
Anothr clash of lightning, as Ethan returned to his car. "Thank you, Katie! Give my thanks to Malcom, too."
"Is she okay?" Concerned, Katie leans inside the car. "Is Emily-"
"How did you know about-"
Katie sighs. "Ethan, word is spreading fast. Dad....he just called me...said he's on his way to Gren's apartment and-"
"SHIT!" Ethan inserts the key and starts the engine. "We didn't WANT dad to find out until we got this whole thing under control."
"Do you know yet who it may be?"
"No idea. Until then, you and your family need to be very careful, you hear me?"
Katie nods. "Jersey has been keeping a VERY close eye on the place."
"Good. I'll, uh, call you if we need anything Folker related."
Ethan backs away from the house, pulls back onto the muddy road and heads back to Fabletown. Beside him, files of Folkers with a criminal background and hopefully more information to the on going bullshit, now lurking in the shadows of Fabletown.
"Dad, stop!" Peter tried to pin a knife weilding Georgie to the wall. "Dad, stop! He didn't do it-"
"HOW THE FOOK-" Georgie, despite his small stature, was indeed a fighter. "Ya' tried ta' kill me baby girl!"
Gren picked up a bottle and smashed it on the counter. "Fuck you, Porgie! COME AT ME!"
"Enough!" Peter growled, when he managed to pin Georgie to the wall. "Stop it, dad or I'm taking you in!"
"You should, Sheriff! You see the way this fuckin' idiot is acting towards me!?"
"Fook ya', Grendel! I know it was you that bloody fookin' did this! Why ELSE were ya' there!?"
"To say I was sorry for the things I fucking said earlier, Porgie! You weren't even fucking there, so don't act like-"
Georgie twists his arm and tosses the knife. It impales Gren's left arm. Peter takes out a set of cuffs, yanks Georgie's arms behind his back and locks his hands together. Forcing Georgie to sit, Peter coughs and examines Gren's arm.
"You fuckin' see this shit, Peter!? Fucking lunatic this guy is-"
"Shut up, Gren. You're not helping."
Georgie struggles in his chair. "Ya' fookin' monster! Ya' tried ta' kill me Emily but ya' couldn't do it! So, ya' go and destroy the ONE thing-"
"DAD!" Peter turns around. Georgie notices the change in not only his voice but face, too. "Stop...okay!?"
Vivian stood in the corner and watched as Georgie grew more determined to destroy the Fable Peter was tending to. She could see his veins bulging in his arms and neck; Georgie was grinding his teeth, as he continued to push and try to release himself. The determination could be heard in his voice. Vivian held her head low. She knew all too well the kind of person Georgie was capable of being. Even after all the years of patience, love and time, some things never went away. It was hard letting go of centuries worth of feelings.
"I hope you're taking that mother fucker in with you, Sheriff! I don't give a fuck if he IS your dad!"
"Fook ya' talkin 'bout ova' there, Grendel, huh?! Ya' got something ta' say....perhaps ya' like ta' come clean!"
"Least I LEFT her head on, Porgie!"
"Fook you..." Georgie's lips curled back, the words hissing from his throat. "Fook you, ya' piece of shit..."
"Least the Folkers are NICE enough to leave something for their fucking family members to bury-"
Peter could not hold back, as he punched Gren in the face. Falling into the floor, Gren was shocked and disturbed by Peter's sudden burst of anger. Kneeling beside Gren, he peered into his eyes and smiled.
"The FUCK Peter-the fuck is wrong with-"
"I told you BOTH to knock it off! If you two can't be in the same goddamn room, then I'm taking you BOTH in with me. Cut that shit OUT, Gren and stop adding fuel to this fire! This has NOTHING to do with that shit! Now-"
Peter pulls Gren back up, adjusts the cuffs and takes out a cigarette. Peter lights the front, as a trail of smoke carries on towards the ceiling.
"-Did you SEE anything or anyone when you went back to see Emily?"
"No, Peter. I fuckin' told you-I walked inside, saw the blood, and the dead scattered all over the place. I found Emily half conscience near the stage. Hans Junior and two of the dancers were not there at the time."
"Bullshit." Georgie whispered under his breath. "Ya' lyin', Grendel."
"HEY!" Peter points at Georgie. "Shut up, dad. Anything else, Gren?"
"No. That's the fuckin' truth, Peter. I picked Emily up, called you and took her back to my apartment."
"Yeah..I remember that."
Peter rubbed his forehead, as he paced around the living room. He was blinded by the sudden attack on not only his family but the city, too. Cole was destroyed that a Folker would turn their back, break the rules and begin another war. Sadly, Peter was not surprised; the Folkers were snakes in the grass and when your back was turned, they sank their fangs into you. There were a few good ones, like the Smith pack and Malcom; even Remus, since his imprionment at the Farm, was willing to cooperate and change.
Peter grew up understanding why so many Folkers took their chance to sneak around the streets of Fabletown to gradually make their way into the safety. The Council were nothing more than power hungry Wolves biting at the bit and eager to throw anyone into the fire just to save their skin. Now, there was a secret attack on Fables and Halfers. Who ever this Folker was, despised both Fables and Halfers, or, the idea of them living among one another. Some Folkers stuck by their old rules and refused to make a change.
Peter glanced at Gren. He was harmless, thought Peter. Sure, Gren was twisted, short tempered and was a walking time bomb but a killer? Yes, he ate and killed MANY warriors back in the homelands but that didn't mean a thing here in Fabletown; he'd rather be along than cause problems and although he liked to kick the dirt up, he would never attack his family. Not Emily, at least. Peter TRULY knew how Gren felt about his sister. Indeed Gren had issues with Georgie Porgie but to murder his family or anyone labeled a 'Halfer'? No. Not Gren.
Peter looked over; the three of them paused and quietly stared at Emily. She was still in her usual clothes but had Gren's brown leather jacket wrapped around her torso.
Emily looks over at Georgie. "Peter, why is dad in bloody fookin' cuffs?"
Peter huffs. "Cause he was acting like, well....dad...."
Georgie twisted again. "EMILY-oh me sweet precious Amelia! Ya' be alright! You alright? How is ya' back?"
"Felicia is dead, dad..."
"Oh Emily..." Georgie and Peter could easily detect the devestation in her voice. "Baby, I'm so sorry...."
"This fooker attacked me pride and joy...my club...my world..."
Emily glanced over at Vivian. Arms folded, the blonde woman in the purple dress could only shake her head in disbelief. No, thought Vivian. Your world? Pride and joy? Oh Emily...you have no idea yet, sweetie.
"We'll catch the guy or woman that did this." Peter finished his cigarette. "I sent Ethan out to gather files on all the Folkers with either a crime record or hate for Fables and Halfers alike."
"Woot 'bout the club?"
"Leave it." Everyone looked over at Georgie. "Just...leave it, love."
"But dad-"
"Let Peter finish the investigation and we'll fooking discuss this more. Leave that piece of shit behind ya', love. Nuthin' but trouble..."
Vivian was pleased to finally hear Georgie say these words. Emily took a notice to this, as she craddled the jacket closer to her chest.
She looked over at Gren. "Thank ya', Gren..."
Gren looks up. "For what, Ems?"
"Savin' me stubborn Porgie ass back there..."
Gren only cracks a crooked smile, as Peter's phone goes off.
"It's Ethan. He just arrived and-"
"Push that button over there." Peter turns. "Yeah, the red one. It will let him in."
As Peter pushed the button, Emily took the keys and uncuffed Georgie. He mumbled while rubbing his wrists; he took out a cigarette and headed to the back porch. Vivian watched as Emily did the same for Gren; the cuffs fell to the floor, as he repeated the same process Georgie did. Gren smiled at Emily.
"Thanks...How you, uh, feeling?"
"Been betta', Grendel. My back hurts and my legs feel like fookin' shit but...been betta'."
Gren and Emily head to the kitchen and grab a beer, just as Ethan enters the apartment.
Any questions, you know the drill.
Hmmm...so, forget Remus! That's who I thought was doing this but you mentioned he's trying to be 'better.' Well, there goes that theory. I wonder who it can be....hmmm...
I thought the entire thing with Gren, Peter and Georgie was hillarious. 'SHUT UP DAD!' Gren really and I mean really needs to back the hell up with that whole BS. At least he's trying to be friendly with Peter and everyone else. And vivian. I'm loving her in this story and can't wait to see how she plays everything out in the end. Also, Nick...WHERE is he!?
And my theory seems to be coming true. cough cough XD
Also, have you seen this picture:
Sadly - especially because of that excellent BattleBlock Theatre reference - I do not currently reside anywhere near Baker Street.
Though perhaps one day I shall, my Dragon friend. One day.
goes off and plays violin while being delightfully anti-social ;D
Haha, random can often work well. XD Glad to hear it.
also raises a glass
Couldn't think of a better toast! Have a good time, Tetra.
Chapter Nine – O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Part One (not a typo
)
Mr. Weasel is writing a name upon the blackboard in Dr. Jekyll's office using a small stick of pastel red chalk. His large, looping letters cause much chalk dust to drop softly onto the wooden sill at the bottom. He finishes the last letter of the name and rubs a period on the board with great emphasis.
“Spring-Heeled Jack,” he declares, turning around to face the four others in the office. Well, there are actually five, however Prince Charming remains in a dream-state on the floor and is as such not entirely present.
Miss Muffet chimes up first, sitting in Jekyll's chair by the side of his desk. “You could have said it instead of submitting us to this silly drama.” She waves dismissively at the board.
“You really don't like you, do you Miss Muffet.”
“Well --”
Before the disagreement can come to a boil - and much to the relief of Cinderella, Dixa and Flycatcher -, Bigby appears at the door, looking distractingly haggard. He wears a clean white shirt un-tucked (surely a sign of weariness to have it un-tucked) over grey trousers, and his hair appears to be in need of the fine pulling only a comb can provide. Taking a second to look around the room, when he speaks it is with a voice much hoarser than usual. “Don't let me interrupt you.”
“You weren't interrupting anything!” Declares Dixa from her sitting position on top of the desk, who's grateful she won't have to listen to another argument between Miss Muffet and Mr. Weasel, especially after the pair had debated heatedly over what should be done with Flycatcher, who at that time still seemed to be in a state of shock. When the pair started getting loud, it transpired that Fly had just been snoozing.
“You're very chipper,” Bigby replies to Dixa, not necessarily intending it as a compliment. He proceeds towards the desk chair that Miss Muffet has graciously given up for the bruised and cut Sheriff.
“Well, we think we might have made a breakthrough in what's going on,” explains Dixa. “But I must ask: do you know anything of what's happened to Henry? They say you went with him, in a manner.”
Bigby is disquieted by the mention of Jekyll. “I'm not really sure what's happened to him if I'm honest, Dixa. I certainly didn't kill him.” He remembered attacking him viscously, though.
“Well, that's something,” she says, not really sure what to think.
“You mentioned a breakthrough?” Returns Bigby.
“Oh. Yes!”
“Excellent, because right now I haven't got a fucking clue about what's happening, and – AAHHH!” His fist pounds the desktop, doing so with enough force to make Cinderella – who sits atop the desk next to Dixa – bounce up ever so slightly.
“Everything okay, Bigby?” Cindy asks, knowing is wasn't, but not wanting to bluntly enquire whether or not the Sheriff thought he was going to turn into a wild beast again.
“Yeah, yeah. Um, no. Some of the bones haven't found their damn sockets yet and keep moving about.”
What follows on Cindy's face is an expression of concern, disgust, amazement, and puzzlement in one simultaneous combination that would make an artist yelp with excitement. Fly, meanwhile, lowers himself back into the spare seat by the window, realisizing that his plan to jump out it into the fog if Bigby transformed would probably have ended with his death anyway.
Weasel sympathizes with the Sheriff. “I hope those bones find where they're going soon, Bigby.”
“Thanks. Now, where were you? And who's Spring-Heeled Jack?” He asks, mindful of the name on the board.
“Aha!” Begins Mr. Weasel, who's read far too many of these new fictional crime books and has begun to fancy himself something of the sleuth. He starts pacing the room, hand on chin. “Dixa, here, related to me the description of the fiend who, erm, kicked her off the side of a tall building.” Weasel loses his eagerness quickly as the images of Dixa bleeding upon the hard road swim into his mind; Bigby's eyebrows arch, not knowing anything of this prior and surprised to see Dixa in such fine condition. He puts his hand gently on her arm, asks if she's okay - to which she replies that she's fine and thanks him, smiling.
Mr Weasel continues. “Thankfully, Dixa here is made of strong stuff, being a Yeti and all; and in a fair fight that bastard wouldn't have stood a chance. Anyway, the description she has provided: a man wearing a large coat, with a 17th century helmet upon his head and long black hair, fiery eyes, particularly sturdy boots, and a red waistcoat. Similar to the one I'm wearing now, I suppose.” Mr Weasel is indeed wearing such a garment, and appears rather dashing in it by all accounts. “And one other key point: there was a rose fastened onto his waistcoat, beneath the jacket, only visible when Dixa was below him.”
Mr Weasel quickly surveys all the faces to confirm he has their attention, is assured of the fact, and then carries on.
“This description matches exactly to that of one 'Spring-Heeled Jack', who, over many of the past decades has been roaming Britain and causing much trouble.” He stands still a moment, looking thoughtful. “Actually, it might have been over the past few hundred years. One finds years passing quite imperceptibly with a long life, don't you agree?” He gives a brief smile at them, but if Mr. Weasel is hoping for a unison of nodding heads he does not receive it. Everyone just carries on looking at him blankly. “That wasn't actually a rhetorical question. Never mind. I'll carry on.” After awkwardly, yet lightly, clearing his throat, he continue with his speech and his pacing.
“I had correspondence with a friend over there telling how the villain was being such a problem by randomly attacking the Mundies of London, being a specter in the mists and lashing out at them; and not always for an apparent reason, stealing little if anything from those he attacked. The Fables of London-town were forced to drive him out; which served London fine, but Spring-Heeled Jack set about travelling the country, and became something of a highway-man. Reports of the vagabond originated from many small towns, and even a few cities: Birmingham, Sheffield, Manchester. He didn't go too far north, and the last reported sighting came from Liverpool, where I now suspect he must have stowed away upon a vessel bound for these shores.”
Finally, Mr. Weasel comes to a standing stop in front of the blackboard, waiting for a thanks, perhaps, for having explained it all at last. Cinderella speaks first, but withholds the thanks for another time.
“So, this Spring-Heeled Jack just randomly attacks people until enough stand up against him, at which point he moves on to terrorize some other poor souls?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“That's not how it is,” came a deep voice from the doorway.
Mr. Weasel rotates on the spot. “Oh, Beast. Hello,” is his greeting, tone indicating that he's a little put out by the sudden arrival of one who would immediately deny his theory. “Care to elucidate your claim?” Only when perturbed does Mr. Weasel bring forth the word 'elucidate'.
The words seem an effort, but Beast explains. “Spring-Heeled Jack might now be his name, but he wouldn't attack people without reason, and certainly not civilians.” As Beast puts his hand against the door-frame it becomes obvious that the man has been through a rough time.
“And how would you know?” Asks Mr. Weasel.
“He's my brother.”
Part Two will follow soon - it's mostly Beast explaining things, so I thought I'd separate the chapter to make it all a bit easier to read. After that, there's only one chapter left! Which may or may not be split, but I don't really care: I'm just looking forward to finishing this story that's been on my mind for about two months. ^_^ Questions? Ask away! And thanks for reading!
Curious fact: While I was researching the urban legend of 'Spring-Heeled Jack', I found a report of him from my home city, Sheffield. The city has over two million trees, making it the greenest in Europe by ratio of trees to population; and we're in Yorkshire, where many people sound exactly like Georgie Porgie. I went to school with a few people that used much of the same language, thinking about it. Anyway, one of these supposed sightings of Spring-Heeled Jack involved, as I recall, a ghost-like figure in a park, no doubt alarming some fo the women and frightening some of the men. The cause? Literally, a man wearing a white sheet. Seriously. Like in the cartoons. We're a curious bunch up north. ^_^
"You're interested in a Folker chick?"
Rose rips open a soy sauce packet and drowns her pork fried rice in the salty thickness. Robert plays with his food. He pokes the broccoli with the ends of the fork and pushes the noodles around. He takes a bite from his orange chicken but has no desire to eat.
"I don't like that word. Hate labels..."
"What...chick?"
Robert closes the top and places his leftover food on the coffee table. He hunches over and rubs the side. The ribs feel like jelly rolls, as he massages the muscles with his fingers.
"No-" Robert tries to hold back the tears. "Folker."
"Well...she kinda IS a Folker chick. Those Werewolves are loco in the coco, Robby."
Robert glares over. He watches Rose scoop up a heaping helping of both rice and kung pao chicken. Pieces of green onion and carrot stick to her bottom lip, as Rose chews and chews and chews.
"Loco in the coco, Rose?"
"Yes. You heard me-loco in the coco. They STALK their females and sometimes follow them when they head into town. I've even heard stories of their packs choosing their future mates, just to please the Council and avoid bullshit."
"That doesn't make Lyla insane. So her family and her kind are a little off. Look at us-"
Rose takes a drink from her Dr. Pepper. "What? Grendels or-"
"Yeah, Grendels. We roll in mud, our skin is ice cold; our toes and hands are webbed, we look like Frogs on steroids and to top THAT off, we build caves and our mates MUST give birth near or in water."
Rose rolls her eyes. "THOSE are traditions, natures way and YOU following your natural instincts."
Robert exhales. The agony lingering in his body and bones makes it difficult to even adjust while sitting on the couch. Robert attempts to reach for a nearby pillow but his arms can not reach and the bruising on his side stick to him like glue. Rose, feeling sorry for the beast, tosses him the heart shapped pillow. Robert props the soft pillow behind his head.
"Thanks."
"You looked ridiculous. Reminded me of those turtles that are stuck on their backs."
"Gee...thanks, Rose"
Rose points to his takeout tray. "Ya' done eating already, Robert?"
"I'll save that for later. Lost my appetite..."
Rose stands up and carries the leftovers to the kitchen. Robert watches as she places them in the fridge and toss the forks into the sink. They loudly clink against the metal. Rose washes her hands and returns to the couch. Reaching for the remote, she grabs a nearby blanket, covers her and Robert's feet up and searches the channels.
"Well, since I'm going to babysit you, what'ta like to watch?"
"Babysit me? No, no, no-I gotta go! I need to get ahold of Lyla and-"
Rose shakes her head. "If those flea bags with teeth KNOW about you two, they're going to do everything in their power to keep her away. Plus, if they see you TRYING to reach her on THEIR side, they'll kill you on the spot."
"How do you know this, Rose?"
Rose continues searching the menu for a show. "I used to date this Werewolf Folker YEARS ago. The war between our kind was fresh and the hip new thing to talk about. We dated for months before his pack came sniffing around and picked up my smell."
Robert moved closer. "What happened? I mean, if you don't mind-"
"The Mayor, Sheriff and my annoying sister made it a point to sit me down and lecture me like I was a child. For the werewolf Folker, well....when they found out, last I heard they banished him from the city and exhiled him. I'm not sure if he's even alive or not."
"Fuck, dude." Robert's eye looked out the window. "That's...horrible."
"And THIS is why WE stay on our side and THEY stay on their side. The ways its ALWAYS been since we arrived to the mundy world."
"But Rose, you don't get it. I love her."
Rose pauses the show. Holding the remote against her chin, she begins to process the words that flew from Robert's lips.
"You LOVE a Folker, Robert?"
"Yes."
"Do you even know the kind of punishment you two will get? And God forbid you fuck and produce kids and-"
"We did have sex, Rose."
Rose's jaw nearly fell to the floor. She could not believe what her ears were hearing. She glanced over at Robert. Still shirtless and rubbing his side, Rose knew this must have been his first REAL crush in a very long time. No Fable, (especially a Grendel) took such risk on an enemy. Rose again tapped the remote to her lips and thought. She couldn't be a hypocrite; her and the Folker male engaged in sexual activities and although it was taboo, Rose loved taking risks and in a way, was a middle finger to both sides. Robert, however, automatically did not scream 'risk taker' which worried Rose just a bit.
Perhaps he HAD fallen in love and this was their way of creating a double life, while remaining loyal to their sides.
"Consensual or-"
"The fuck!?" Robert tried to sit up. "YES!"
Rose chuckles. "Whoa, whoa! Easy there, big guy! I was just playing with you."
"That's not very funny, Rose. I really care and love this girl."
"You didn't mark her, did you?"
Robert cocks his eyebrow. "MARK her?"
Rose looks at Robert with an annoyed look. "Now, I KNOW someone like yourself is aware of markings and what they can do to a person-"
"I do."
"Okay. So, again-did you mark her or-"
Robert could recall the sun symbol tattooed on his arm. It was not there before; after he and Lyla connected between the sheets and the night carried on, it imprinted itself into Robert's flesh. He couldn't detect one on Lyla or see any visible markings. It must have only latched itself onto to him. He tried to cover it with the blanket. He'd come clean later. Not now.
"No. I did not."
"Well good, good." Rose leans back into the couch. "I hear its a BITCH to remove."
Robert tries to sit up. "Say, um, did you ever go and get my phone-"
"Oh yeah." Rose reaches into her pocket and hands it over to Robert. "Sorry. Forgot."
"You forgot?"
Rose sips from her soda can. "God you are crabby when you're hurt! Shit, calm down."
"I NEEDED this phone, Rose! What if Lyla tried-"
"I TOLD you, she ain't going to call you now that THEY know about it! You'll be lucky if she is still alive or remembers you at all!"
"She'll remember and we'll find a way to be together."
Rose sighs. There was no point in continuing the arguing with a brick wall. Robert would not budge. Rose grabs the remote and turns the volume back up. Robert, frustrated with Rose's lack of sympathy, manages to lift himself up. He wobbles to the nearest bedroom, shuts the door and dials Lyla's cell number. It instantly goes to voicemail.
Robert's heart nearly stops, as the recorded message plays in his ear.
"We are sorry. The person you are trying to reach in unavaliable at the moment. Please leave a message or try your call again."
Robert swallows back the tears. "Hey, Lyla. It's me. Uh, when you get this call me back. Just want to make sure you are alright. I know I've had worse..hehe...so, ummm, yeah. Just, call me back when you get this, okay? Love you."
Robert again tries again. Same thing. He repeats this process for two minutes before giving up. She'd call back. She had to, right?
Robert pushed his finger on the contact list button and found Gren. He would need help getting back home. Outside, Robert could hear Rose laughing at the show; from what he could hear, some Jersey guy was caught in the hot tub with three Grenades and he was drunk, while playing the Violin.
"Haha, what an idiot!" Rose screams as if these people can hear her. "You stupid asshole! Hey, sweetheart-LEAVE HIM! Look at this jerk!"
Robert rolled his eyes, as his brother answered the phone call. Robert's mind was lost in his own thoughts, even as his brother repeated his name over and over. Lyla.
That's all Robert wanted. Lyla.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,`Any questions or comments, leave them below. Got my grades back for the semester. Did pretty damn good I should say! Pie loves the rain but I'm not a huge fan. Too damn cold for my taste. Oh man...hear thunder! 0.0'
Winter telling them about the elves and reindeer is definitely a highlight. xD As is Robbie, with his teachings one minute and dumb-struck silence the next! You're right about Hanukkah starting yesterday! Unless you posted it yesterday - I don't know because of the time zone difference to the time stamp, but it was the 16th, apparently. I don't celebrate it, but you made me curious, and if you Google 'Hanukkah', it shows a unique header which is pretty neat!
That's hot. xD I think the British accent is wonderful music to my ears and I THINK one of the reasons why Georgie never bothered me.
Ahem, well....sorry if that came off creepy. ANYWAYS, Wolf....XD
I've heard of Spring-heeled Jack before. If I remember correctly, he was mentioned on one of the past threads LOOONG ago. One of the users said he was either the villian in the 4th episode (ended up being Jersey) or they said he WOULD make a great villian for season 2. Either way, being a curious creature that I am, I looked it up. It would be interesting to see how he becomes involved with Mr. Weasel and the gang.
also, picturing everyone in front of the blackboard made me smile in a good way. Mr. Weasel using a stepping stool to reach the top. XD And that ending! I thought perhaps this was Beast's brother from your previous story. BELIEVE his name was Bertnard. (correct me if I'm wrong. I'm horrible with remembering names the first couple of times) But if I recall, he died.
Will be interesting to read Beast's section in regards to his brother, Spring-Heeled Jack and his BG. Great job. I know a lot of users have said this but the word choice and description reminds me of those really good soap operas from way back.
Also, lucky that you are surrounded by all those beautiful trees and what not. Sure, I'm by th beach but being around nature like that would be an awesome change. Neat little tid bit of information, too!
What would we all do without the internet?! Anyway, this character (who's name I shall not reveal), really, really has it in for any sort of festive cheer. Which is sad, but I'm sure Bigby and Clara will get this villain apprehended!
And, of course, welcome back!
Hmm. A Fable and Halfer hating Folker. That ain't a short list, but to attack the club so violent and viciously - to murder? That's extreme. Is it someone we've met before, or a new person?
Did you do that picture, JJ? Because who ever did it, I have to say I think it looks lovely.
Nah, I'm actually flattered that someone likes it so much. XD One of the daughter's of my next-door neighbour met a Californian in America and got married; I met him last year and, oh my, that accent. Seriously, I could listen to it all day.
Yeah, I vaguely remember someone mentioning him as being a good villain. The main reason I picked him was that I wanted to do something Victorian, which he fitted perfectly, and the fact that he was reported (in some manner) in my city. Curiously, in some of the Penny Dreadfulls of the time they actually turned him into something of a hero instead of a villain.
Bertrand is his name! And he did die. That's all I'm going to say for now.
I appreciate your comment about my word choice! I love old, classic novels so a lot of it probably comes from that.
I'm actually mid-way between the city and the country, but still with plenty of trees. You need somewhere with beach and trees. 
That's a brilliant description, but a horrible image. xD Which makes it even better, because I don't think Robert's ribs are going to be looking so good right now. Plus, the line about frogs on steroids and a turtle on it's back were particular highlights.
Ah, Robert. You've not known Lyla five minutes and you're already head over heels. I wonder, if he hadn't been marked, whether he'd still act in the same way at all; but, it doesn't really matter. This is how things go. I kind of hope they get a little bit more time together before they get separated - just have to wait and see.
Congratulations on your grades! Have fun celebrating, if you do.
I did. 0_o My hand hurts and I spent SOOOO long and made SOOOO many mistakes but I liked it in the end. I'm no artist but I thought he'd appreciate the gesture.
Haha well, then my accent would probably lead you to requesting a homemade playlist of all the funny things we Americans say. XD Its funny hearing those not from America think we have awesome accents.
You still win! 
Well, knowing they actually turned him into a hero and not a villian sounds very promising and has my attention. Either way, good OR bad, I'm looking forward to it.
And yes! Score for JJ and his ability to pay attention! XD Ah-I see what you did there! Then I shall wait with such patience!
And no problem. Its something I envy and to be honest, the style fits beautifully in your stories. I know Pie would love to move to the country; not so much m but the way you describe it makes me yearn to make a week's vacation out of it.
I assume robert's ribs and bruised flesh does not look like a work of art in a French museum but it is still fun to write about, considering he is a Fable and I'd like to pretend and say Grendels are disgusting, yet intriguing creatures to watch heal themselves. XD The Frog part. When I played the 1st episode for the first time, those were my EXACT words: Dafuq are you, a Frog on steroids?!
Ah Robert and his foolish ways. If I'm not mistaken (pie please correct me if I'm saying this wrong) but once the mark appears and has fastened itself into your skin, your feelings for that person will remain until you decide to remove it. Robert has one, which allows him to be in love with Lyla. They will indeed have some time together before, well....you know...
Why thank you my good man! Tonight, I dine on takeout and drink cheap wine! XD JK not sure but whew! Big relief!
You may say you're no artist, but that picture speaks otherwise. I know hardly any of the technical aspects of art, however, I think you've really nailed those shadows, which can be very tricky! I certainly reckon he will!
Yes; a Folker that hates both Fables and Halfers. He murders are warnings....for now, at least. We have met this person before in my previous stories.
Not Remus. When I saw the PM I figure I'd answer here. And no...not Malcom either. Would defeat the purpose of him mated WITH a Halfer. I will add hints and clues as to who it is. And damn dude...0_o I love that picture!!!! OMG! So beautiful! I loved it! Gren and Ems looks amazing!
"And I want a kite, and a bear, and a castle, and a..."
Noah tuned out of Elora's chatter to Santa as he observed their surroundings. They were in his small cottage, which was on the other side of the hill they met him on. Santa was a jolly man, who never seemed to stop smiling. It didn't creep Noah out, but he definitely thought it was weird. He shuffled across the uneven floorboards toward the crackling fireplace. There always seemed to be a fire burning in someone's house during this time of year. His mother put on the fake fireplace all the time at home, even when it was too hot to bear the heat sometimes.
He crossed his arms, watching as Ash handed Santa the list she was responsible for. In all honesty, Noah didn't much like the Christmas holiday. Too commercialized by the mundies. It was also so flashy, and people acted as if life itself was built upon the season.
He pushed his way to the kitchen, or what he assumed must be the kitchen. Despite the refrigerator and stove, it looked more like another toy workshop. They'd seen dozens of those on the way to his house. Leaned on the back of a chair, he picked up a cookie from a nearby plate and stuffed it in his mouth.
"Ah, there you are," Santa's gravelly voice filled the room. It was just him and Noah.
"Oh," Noah said. "Hi."
Santa smiled again, walking slowly over to where Noah stood. He was a tall man, near six feet if Noah had to guess. Santa's smirk vanished though, into a concerned line.
Well, that was a first. Noah flexed his muscles, crossing his arms tightly as he had before.
"Tell me, son," Santa said. He took a seat in the opposite chair of Noah, picking up a cookie of his own. "Tell me what you want for Christmas."
Noah let out a low sarcastic laugh. "Is that all? You just want to know what I want? I don't know."
Santa slowly shook his head, swallowing what he'd bitten from the gingerbread man. "No, no. That's not all. I want to know what's on your mind. You don't seem particularly interested. At least, not as much as your siblings."
Noah sighed, turning his chair around to sit in it. He and Santa were face to face, looking across at each other at each end of the small wood table. The table was also strewn with toys of various shapes and sizes. They looked much more traditional than the toys that were made in the shops. It looked like Santa was not particularly interested in arranging the latest smart phones or coffee makers in the personal space of his home.
Noah touched the hand of a Jack in the Box, twisting it halfway to make the little musical sound it normally made.
"I made that one yesterday," Santa said, sipping from a cup of milk. "My wife told me it wasn't as good as the one I made last year, but she still liked the designs I drew."
Noah studied the lines written over it. Flowers, with bursts of different colors. He actually quite liked the detailing. His hand brushed over a wooden pull toy, with a yellow string out the front long enough for a young toddler to use.
"That one's a duck, if you hadn't noticed," Santa told him. "Kids love pulling ducks around. It quacks, too. I used a little squeaky horn that is pressed on every full rotation of the wheel."
Noah was fascinated now, staring at all the intricate toy soldiers, tops, dolls, and trains. It reminded him of his childhood, when out of all the fancy toys, each child would get one much simpler than the others. Those happened to be his favorite toys when Christmas time would arrive.
"Can I have this little bear?" Noah asked. It was a teddy, about the size of his hand, sewn professionally with patchwork fur. It was cute, and he had someone in particular he wanted to give it to.
"Of course. It wasn't meant for anyone, really. But seriously, Noah. Is there a single thing you want for Christmas? Anything I can give you?"
Noah almost didn't say it. He paused a moment, flipping the bear around in his hand. "My girlfriend," He started. His finger fiddled with the black buttons eyes of the bear. "She's a ghost. And I can't see her as often as I would like. Is there anything you can do?"
Santa pursed his lips, now stained with milk, placing his mug down. He sat backward in his chair, crossing his arms just like Noah had earlier.
"I don't know how much I can do," He admitted. "But...."
Noah scooted eagerly to the edge of his seat, just so he could catch every word Santa was about to utter.
"I could possibly let her stay for one whole day. Sunrise, to sunset. You can choose the day-"
"Christmas Morning. Please."
Santa smiled, standing up from his chair. "That sounds good to me. When you wake up in the morning, instead of seeing her gone, she will still be beside you. I promise you that. But it will only be for one day, okay?"
Noah nodded. "It's okay. Of course it's okay. Thank you!" His face was now lit up cheerfully. He left the room, rejoining his family in the living room. Santa let out a 'Ho Ho Ho!' laugh as he followed, joining the impromptu party being held by Winter and her grandchildren.
"The gifts for Mrs. Wolf will be all ready in a few more minutes. Enjoy the cookies until then," Santa told them.
All was good.
Pretty much almost done
I have tons of plans for the next couple chapters, but I might wait until tomorrow to write some of them! Hope you liked this, any questions comment below 
TWO MORE DAYS UNTIL I'M OFF OF SCHOOL FOR 2 WEEKS IM SO EXCITED!
Also, going to see the third Hobbit movie this Friday even though I haven't seen the second and only seen half of the first. Go me! My parents are also throwing a party friday so I'll be doing that before leaving for the theater and I also have THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL FRIDAY I'M SO PUMPED and my club that I'm in is throwing a holiday party after school tomorrow COOKIES AND HOT COCOA
I'm exactly that person Noah would dislike because I LIVE for the Holidays XDD
Cat and mouse
Chapter one
Planning
"STOP DRAWING PENISES ON MY PAPERWORK!" Bluebeard demand slamming his hands on Snow's desk, his brow buckled in annoyance at the young man in front of him. At first the idea of having Jersey's son Bradwr along side them seemed useful, he was married to Scarlett, the daughter of Bloody Mary who seemed to share her bloodlust for the Wolf family, and Bradwr knew a fair share about Medusa's affairs. Sadly that meant putting up with Bradwr and his childish ways.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Bradwr replied coolly as he took a large bite out of a bean burrito wrapped in tin foil.
Swearing under his breath Bluebeard dug into his pants pocket and retrieved a sheet of paper. It was white and the text was written in black ink, the most noticeable feature of the sheet through was the penis drawn in red ink.
"Are you telling me you didn't do this?" he hissed at Bradwr. It was becoming more and more clear on why Scarlett longed to make Bradwr suffer, and most likely it would had happened even if Bradwr didn't leave her to die in a burning buliting.
"I'm telling you baldly, it wasn't me." he said through a mouthful of burrito. The sloppy contents dripped onto Snow's desk, ruining more papers. "It could have been anyone, maybe it was Snow White?"
"Ah yes, how could I be so foolish?" he rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner. "Of course Miss White, deputy mayor of Fabletown, would most certainly be drawing genitals upon my papers."
"See? Now you can go bring it up with her when all this shit is dealt with." Bradwr swallowed and took another bite. "Gee Bluebeard, what's got your panties in a twist?"
"Well... considering I spend five whole days vomiting up snakes-"
"Alright, alright, I hear Ya...burrito?" he offered. Bluebeard simply scoffed and slapped the burrito out of Bradwr's grip. It fell on Snow's formally clean desk, now just a sloppy mess.
"You could had just said no..." Bradwr frown looking at the bean and tortilla mess before him. "It was a damn good burrito... you owe me a new one."
"If it gets you out of business office then I'll gladly agree. Why are you even here anyway?"
"Just waiting for Lyall to return, plus I like the Magic mirror. It's kind of like a rap battle." Bradwr picked at his nails. "And this place has free wifi."
"Explain to me why Scarlett agreed to marry you?"
"My wonderful charm and charisma?"
"I highly doubt it."
"Your the one to talk, by the looks of it your love life isn't doing any better." Bradwr mused. "Plus you did kill the majority of your wives, I only almost killed mine, Just saying."
Bluebeard sighed, never in his had he wanted to rid himself of someone more then Bigby before in his life. The temptation to reach over and grab the idiot by the neck was quickly eased when Snow entered the office.
"I got the results from Swineheart." Snow White said as she entered the office, a file in her hands.
"About those snakes old pukey was vomiting for the past few days?" Bradwr asked.
"Yes and-" Snow paused and looked at the sloppy burrito mess on her desk. "I swear to god Bradwr..."
"Hey Bluebeard's the one who knocked it out of my hand!"
"You were the one drawing genitals on my paper work." Bluebeard reminded him.
"I told you Snow White did it!"
"I swear when this is over...." Snow grumbled under breath shaking her head. "Moving on to more pressing matters, As I was saying Swineheart finished up his analysis on those snakes you have been er... choking up for the past few days."
"About damn time." muttered Bluebeard crossing his arms. "Does his report say how they got in me?"
"Believe it or not yes." Snow stated. "Apparently you ate the egg-"
"Impossible, I would had remembered swallowing snake eggs whole." he scoffed.
"That's the thing Bluebeard, according to Swineheart they been... altered."
"Altered? Altered how?"
"The real question is what isn't altered about them. These snakes... they aren't normal. They show greater intelligence then normal ones, understand human speech... and thank god you came to Swineheart right away." she explained going over the file. "Within three days the babies started to develop deadly venom."
"How deadly?"
"Enough to kill a Fable in seconds, a whole minute being the most someone would have to live."
"That doesn't explain how they got in me though. I don't recall eating snakes or whole eggs." Bluebeard reminded.
"Like I said everything about them has been altered, even the eggs they hatch out of. These snakes came from smaller eggs, very small and dark. You recall eating something like that?"
Yes, he did in fact. During the events when Scarlett and Bradwr attempted to kill Lyall. He did allow himself to indulge in some caviar, the carter who offered it was wiped from his memory.
"Yes..." he said. He turned to Bradwr. "What do you know about Medusa and her snakes?"
"If she ain't buying them she's breeding them. She's like a crazy cat lady, only with snakes." he said. "All she needs is a few grandkids, some wrinkles, and to learn how to knit."
"That's all you know?" Bluebeard hissed at him.
"Hey, Scarlett was around her more then me! Not my fault that snake lady favoured her over me."
"I can see why." Snow muttered once again glancing at the mess on her desk.
"So let me get this straight, Medusa sneaked these... altered snake eggs into my body for no good reason?!" Bluebeard hissed. "I have no business with that woman at all!"
"Could be a warning, or she's just messing with your head." Bradwr shrugged. "She's always playing some sort of game..."
"Did Lyall return yet?" Snow asked glancing about business office.
"Not yet, still investigated what Medusa's next move might be." Bradwr adjusted his glasses. "Told him about a few places where Medusa is most likely lingering around Fabletown. She's got eyes everywhere, if not her HQ then it's something else relating to her. Could be an illegal business, a snake breeding farm, or just about anything really. She's always so damn unpredictable."
XXX
"I hope your right about this." Snow White stated glaring at Bradwr with fierceness in her blue eyes. "Because if this is some sort of trap you can be sure you will be charged to the fullest extent for your part in this ordeal."
Snow could never be sure of Bradwr, son of the Jersey Devil and an attempted murderer... he seemed so sleazy and slicker then motor oil, yet he agreed to help them, he could have very useful answers or explanations to Medusa and Scarlett's affairs. Right now all they could do is wait.
XXX
And their we go first part of Cat and mouse
Also since it's the Holidays have some Lyall and Scarlett "enjoying" the one of the many joys of the Holidays (if Scarlett doesn't rip off his other leg that is)
http://gamegurlunleashed.deviantart.com/art/Lyall-and-Scarlett-miseltoe-mishap-500844583
I'm writing it on a document first. I want Cindy Lu Lew's Journey to be awesome. The north pole in my story will be awesome and she'll meet new people
.
I surprisingly didn't mean the confetti to be a Battleblock Theater reference.
However, I'll take it nonetheless!
Nice nod to the show too! XD
I know I'm a little late on this, but...
Cheers!
Hmm, we've met them before and it's definitely a he. Hmmmm.
strokes chin
It's a good way, writing it on a document first. Helps plan it more, I find. You're definitely making it sound exciting.
If you had to draw gentials on anyone's paperwork, it probably would be Bluebeard's. I feel sorry for Snow and her desk, though; or perhaps I should feel sorry for Bradwr and him having to cope with Snow's fury! Entertaining dialogue in this chapter.
DragonButter's Vital Announcement
Ladies and gentables, I have come back from the dead (again) to ask for your help regarding the Fable Storyteller awards! The past two days I've been skimming through your previous chapters to see how many Fables you guys have created for this topic. So far, the process has been somewhat slow.
Regardless, if any of you are willing to help me speed along the process by sending me the total number of Fables (including their names) you have created in a PM to me on here - it would be greatly appreciated. This also goes for how many stories you have finished in the past and how many chapters you have included in them. Therefore, if you haven't completed a story yet, then send me the current number of chapters you have finished so far.
Keep in mind, that you helping me with this is entirely optional. Though, I would appreciate it if you can help! If you are confused about any of this, let me know and I'll try to clarify further!
Oh how exciting.
we all know who MY fable is. I just have the one. Pie is gone for the day, so I will PM his for you. Cant wait for the awards.
Also, seeing all the results for those holiday themed challenges, too!
Saw and replied to your message, thanks JJ!
When times were so much simpler.....
Who knew she'd have 13 baby girls? Man, I'm going down memory lane and it's hitting me like a train XD
Hopefully it's done by Christmas. If not then I'll still continue her adventure. I'm not giving up on it
Tetra begins to list the things he couldn't do XD anyways yeah he's not very festive but they can come back from it right!? Hopefully they can! Thanks Lupine
I myself never intended on 13 kids. It just made sense to me.
I've been going back and reading so many of the past posts. Oh memory lane indeed....:)
Oops that was a typo. xD Stupid phone....
I meant to say the murders are warnings; the killer is actually female, believe it or not. I will add clues as we head further into the story.