I suppose I should submit another "Chapter" of my story into this new contest that's being held. I'm going in this with absolutely no preplanning, just thinking as I write. I hope you enjoy :)
Chapter 3 (Or 4? I can't remember.): Trying to Fit In
I got home from work, as I do every night of the week. The full moon usually gives me more energy, though I'm not sure if it's linked through my wolf ancestry or through some other North Wind ma-do-hicky genes I've got. Every night has been getting hard to get through. I keep feeling like something is missing; I've got all I need, but maybe it's not enough? I don't know.
The kitchen table is covered with every fast food container you could think of. I never have time to cook on my own, nor do I have the time to clean on a daily basis. I work the night shift and tend to be the only one ever able to cover when someone is out sick or for family reasons. At least I'm not working among mundies, since they already started getting on my nerves when I got here.
"Why does that lady have blue streaks in her hair, mommy? Why is this chic holding up the line, does she even know how to order coffee right? Can you stop staring at me?"
Like, stop. I'm sorry I've got the heart of a 5 year old.
Anyway, I've been working at A Taste of the Homelands for a few months now. Mary is there more often that not, and she's my only source of real sanity at this point. Sure, she's shit-faced half the time, but you know what? She's more entertaining that the goblins who take up half the entire space behind the bar.
I've become increasingly aware of how things work. I can cook any of the food I'm ordered to cook, I can bus tables, bring over drinks. My boss thinks I'm a miracle worker, since I still cling onto my innocence and seem to help anyone I come across. Everything is fine, it's just that...
There's something....
Missing.
What am I missing?
I open the door to my bedroom and nearly have a heart attack.
"How the hell did you get in my house?!"
"Uhm, I use mirrors to go where I want to. You've got at least 6 here, so it wasn't hard. And I saw that something was bothering you, so I figured I'd get off my lazy ass and make sure you were alright. I guess."
"Well, I almost had a heart attack. But thanks, I guess. And yeah, I guess something has been bothering me."
"Tell ole Bloody Mary what's botherin' you."
"I think...I don't know. I just- I think I'm lonely."
"Well I'm your friend. You've got more family then you can count on your fingers. What else do you need?"
"Maybe a boyfriend. Or even just another friend. Who's a boy. I don't know!"
She keels over and laughs hysterically at what I just said.
"You're friggin' worrying about friggin' boys now? God, you DO grow up friggin' fast!" She continues to laugh, to the point of crying.
"Seriously. I see all these, these couples coming through the restaurant. I think I want someone to spend time with like that."
"Well don't look at me. I ain't no boy. But maybe we can go clubbing. Find some cute single Fables or something. Hey, you know what? That damn homelands ball party or whatever is coming up. Maybe we can attend, or something."
"You mean Remembrance Day? Actually, that's a good idea. I'll go with Snow and the cubs. And, well, my mother. Eh...maybe I shouldn't go...what if-"
"Oh come on! Live life on the edge, sweetheart. She won't notice you in a crowd of thousands of people. You can find SOMEONE to spend time with alone. You'll see."
"Oh, alright. I guess you win. But you better be there."
"Don't worry. I got my own date anyway. That asshole Jack wants to get in my pants, maybe I'll bring him and then dump him for someone hotter when we get there."
They are not 'officially' dating yet. Right now, its more like flirting, with sexual tension between the two. :) He does have a story but that comes later. Glad everyone is enjoying it.
Can't wait to see where this is going. So are Gren and Carla dating? Sry if you did mention this already. Will Gren also have a back story? You mentioned he was going to do something he won't like. Great job like always!
I suppose I should submit another "Chapter" of my story into this new contest that's being held. I'm going in this with absolutely no prepla… morenning, just thinking as I write. I hope you enjoy :)
________________________________________________________________
Chapter 3 (Or 4? I can't remember.): Trying to Fit In
I got home from work, as I do every night of the week. The full moon usually gives me more energy, though I'm not sure if it's linked through my wolf ancestry or through some other North Wind ma-do-hicky genes I've got. Every night has been getting hard to get through. I keep feeling like something is missing; I've got all I need, but maybe it's not enough? I don't know.
The kitchen table is covered with every fast food container you could think of. I never have time to cook on my own, nor do I have the time to clean on a daily basis. I work the night shift and tend to be the only one ever able to cover when someone … [view original content]
Personality: Kind towards people who are kind to him, but if someone messes with him, they get the death sentence.
Backstory: He is a Werewolf and distant cousin of Bigby Wolf. He has been hiding in vaults in the ground for 15 years. He had another cousin named Vath who got a life sentence after he ripped out the throat of a bartender. He eventually escaped and has been on the run and Remus has been trying to find him while running from the law. He also has a sister named Vahl who hides out in a faraway land.
Can I create a Fable?
Name: Remus Wolf
Personality: Kind towards people who are kind to him, but if someone messes with him, they… more get the death sentence.
Backstory: He is a Werewolf and distant cousin of Bigby Wolf. He has been hiding in vaults in the ground for 15 years. He had another cousin named Vath who got a life sentence after he ripped out the throat of a bartender. He eventually escaped and has been on the run and Remus has been trying to find him while running from the law. He also has a sister named Vahl who hides out in a faraway land.
I suppose I should submit another "Chapter" of my story into this new contest that's being held. I'm going in this with absolutely no prepla… morenning, just thinking as I write. I hope you enjoy :)
________________________________________________________________
Chapter 3 (Or 4? I can't remember.): Trying to Fit In
I got home from work, as I do every night of the week. The full moon usually gives me more energy, though I'm not sure if it's linked through my wolf ancestry or through some other North Wind ma-do-hicky genes I've got. Every night has been getting hard to get through. I keep feeling like something is missing; I've got all I need, but maybe it's not enough? I don't know.
The kitchen table is covered with every fast food container you could think of. I never have time to cook on my own, nor do I have the time to clean on a daily basis. I work the night shift and tend to be the only one ever able to cover when someone … [view original content]
Tod's story begins!
Okay, so I've been working on my character's "story" from early life to adulthood, but only the important bits wher… moree shit happens. Now this isn't necessarily a "story" or "story arc" as much as it is a character arc, the crowning/shaping moments of Tod's life up to the present moment of the story taking place, which is the segment of his life below first presented to this lovely forum. I may even start adding what I have to my deviantart profile, who knows.
What this first "chapter" is: I needed a beginning that could be a good prompt for a flashback, or just as easily a continuation from where it left off. I will sneak in the exact year at some point, but you should get a gist of where it's at in this first "chapter".
I have to warn you, one of these "parts"(of which I mean not of the "chapter" below, but of the entirety of Tod's life I've written into existence) will have mild sexual content, as in no expl… [view original content]
They are not 'officially' dating yet. Right now, its more like flirting, with sexual tension between the two. :) He does have a story but that comes later. Glad everyone is enjoying it.
A blank canvas....ripe for story telling. I dare say, you have given me an idea. A pillow? No thank you, but I will need a pen or perhaps a paint brush.
Chapter One: Of Wolves and Pigs
---------------------------------------------
I'd never gave thought as to why I lived on The Farm. My other neighboors were usually Fables who couldn't afford the glamors, which is why I was somewhat envied here. I had a normal human appearance: olive toned skin, wavy copper hair, and grassy green eyes. This wasn't an ideal place to live, but it was where I felt most comfortable. I couldn't imagine sleeping in a town with so many people, who were up at ungodly hours of the night.
Sheriff Wolf would come from time to time with more fables who had either escaped, or just couldn't glamour themselves any longer. Normally, the Sheriff scared the fables shitless, due to his rough past. I guess no one wanted to end up on his plate next, as if he even used one back then. One day, I picked up my paintbrush and set off to Collin's place. I saw the slightly overweight pig (then again, which pig isn't?) grumbling when I walked up.
"Ashanti! Just the Fable I needed to see!" he said running up. I hid my brush in the back pocket of my jeans, and waved. "How are-"
"Cut the crap, Ash. Where's the brush?" Collin demanded. "I don't know what you're talking about." I said, feinging innocence. "The PAINTBRUSH, Ashanti. Where's the fucking paintbrush? And don't bother telling me you left it, because I know you never leave home without it." He said, sounding exasperated.
"You KNOW Wolf wouldn't like that, and besides, it's tapped." I said, folding my arms across my chest. He grumbled, and then his eyes got wide. I turned to what he was staring at, and saw Bigby Wolf himself. Collin and I ducked behind a bale of hay. "What the Hell is he doing here?" Collin hissed. "He's always coming here." I whispered.
"No, he's looking for someone." Collin whispered back. We looked on as Bigby smothered his cigarette, sniffed the air, and walked in our direction. "He's coming this way!" I whispered feverishly. "Dammit, go out there!" Collin whisper-shouted at me. "What?!" I said a bit too loudly. "Come on out, you two." Sheriff Wolf said in a bored tone.
We walked out into plain sight, and instantly, I felt a bit small under the famed wolf's gaze. Collin, however, sauntered right up to him. "Bigby! Wow! Have you been working out? I swear, you're getting more muscular by the day!" Collin said before Bigby sighed again (Geez, this guy does that alot!). "I'm not here for YOU, Collin. Ashanti, I'm going to need you to come with me." Bigby said, disrupting me from my thoughts.
"Me? What did I do?" I asked incrediously. "You'll be....assisting The Buisness Office." Bibgy said with a small delay. Collin shot me a look that said, "You're going to do this, and THEN, break me out." Then when I looked at Wolf, I also realized I had no choice. "Fine, but I want my own apartment."
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Shit, I'm sorry man. I feel like an idiot now. I must have missed it when I was reading your first chapter. My eyes tend to skim around a lot whenever I read someone's newly-posted story, or when I read them for later. I do apologize.
A blank canvas....ripe for story telling. I dare say, you have given me an idea. A pillow? No thank you, but I will need a pen or perhaps a … morepaint brush.
Chapter One: Of Wolves and Pigs
---------------------------------------------
I'd never gave thought as to why I lived on The Farm. My other neighboors were usually Fables who couldn't afford the glamors, which is why I was somewhat envied here. I had a normal human appearance: olive toned skin, wavy copper hair, and grassy green eyes. This wasn't an ideal place to live, but it was where I felt most comfortable. I couldn't imagine sleeping in a town with so many people, who were up at ungodly hours of the night.
Sheriff Wolf would come from time to time with more fables who had either escaped, or just couldn't glamour themselves any longer. Normally, the Sheriff scared the fables shitless, due to his rough past. I guess no one wanted to end up on his plate next, as if he even … [view original content]
First, about the flashbacks. During the conversation at the Trip Trap, certain topics will trigger literary "flashbacks". These flashbacks aren't being told word-for-word to the audience at the bar, they're not as silly as all that. Rather, the reader is going back in time to see the events from Tod's perspective as they unfold, while Tod in the "present day" is either telling the story in summary, or merely laying out what happened directly. The way the conversation is going will clue the reader in on how the "story" of the flashback is being told, or if it's merely being glossed over, at the bar.
Now I went through all that to get to this caveat about a flashback in the story below: it's being told from a specific perspective, or the "younger Tod" we'll say. If, in a flashback, Tod is speaking oddly, or differently from how he does at the Trip Trap(or "present day"), it's to be assumed that he's describing it as he would if he were just telling the story or writing it down right after it happened. Which he's not by the way. It's just a little gimmick I'm pulling for the sake of..."immersion"? Yeah, that's it. I'm "immersing" the reader into the flashback.
And DragonButter, to be fair, I never outright elaborated that not only did Tod grow up with a lack of Fable influence, but that he also never knew that Fables existed. More on that later... Anyway, you are excused.
I guess I probably also should have mentioned that this one gets graphic. In a way that would make Hannibal proud.
Part 2, enjoy.
Tod: The Resident Werewolf
Part 2: Lesson in Discipline
I turned my gaze from Jack of the tales to the bar. Dug out my wallet and put down the cash for another shot. Holly poured me another, eyes open and head turned in my direction. I placed my fingers around the glass, leaving my hand there waiting for someone else to speak up, while they all waited on me. After ten more seconds, I heard the clatter of balls striking each other. I was the only one who turned around to see the bearded, bald man standing there, watching the balls move. He looked up at me, shrugged, and waited for Lily to take her turn. Instead, she was the first to speak.
"So, your parents..."
"Are mixed," I finished. "I hope that's not a problem," I added, giving a pointed look to Gren, who looked away and threw back another shot, indifferent to the enlightening moment.
"Of course not," Jack swifted. "We're all odd people here. I stole a pie on Christmas Day--sue me--Holly's people are...not people-persons, and...uh, sorry what was your name again?" he asked, giving a cheeky look to the bearded man.
"Very funny, Jack," he replied sarcastically. "Never gets old."
"And Gren's...well, just about what you'd expect, actually," Jack continued, pausing as I glanced down the bar, making a connection when I considered "Gren" might be a nickname. "But, it sounds like you grew up a wolf-out-of-water. That must have sucked."
I paused. "You aren't wrong there. It probably could have been better."
"So I hope you were looking to spend at least an hour here, cuz frankly I'm intrigued. I wanna hear your life story, if you don't mind sharing."
"Hmm. Yeah, lucky for you, you caught me in a rambling mood. And I will say, even for heisting during the season of giving, you seem like a nice guy, so why not."
"Attaboy, Allaway! So, why don't we start with your parents? Hell, might be someone I know."
"My mom was born and raised in Scotland, almost a hundred years ago," I answered. "She wasn't born pure Fable, either. Catriona, ring a bell?"
"Hmm...nope don't know any Fable by that name. So how far back does this go?"
"Just to my Mundy grandmother," I said, throwing back my second shot. "Raised Mom till she was barely teenage--till my mom was, I mean."
"What about after?" Lily asked.
"Well, Grandma had about all she could stand of keeping a shape-shifting little 'demon' girl a secret and out of trouble. How she came to have Mom in the first place didn't help either, but moving on: she put a sack over her head, masked her own scent with dirt, poop, leaves--really thought it out, actually--and went for a very, very long drive. Ended up near the border of France--or past it, or something. Anyway, you can guess where this is going."
"That's awful."
I shrugged. "She survived. Taught me what she learned."
"How to hide your 'werewolf' powers?" Jack snickered.
"Heh...yeah," I chuckled. "She didn't actually use the word until I was older, but for all we knew, werewolves existed and people just didn't get the facts right. But, hiding wasn't the only thing she taught me."
_______________________________________________________________________
Urban England, Spring 1962
The rain pelted me from the heavens above as I ran through the forest. Rustling leaves showered my feet and underbelly with water. The bark on the trees yielded to my claws when I climbed. Occasionally I'd go back to climbing to see how high I could get before falling. I'd hit the dirt and mud, running around in the rain to shake it off and get "clean" again.
My stomach groaned. I sniffed the air, but there was too much water coating everything to get any leads, so I ran some more. I ran around for ten minutes, coming up empty. My stomach railed against the inside of my belly, as if it thought I was ignoring it. Then, I caught a whiff of rabbit. Not much, but it would do. I bounded off in the direciton of the smell until I found my prey, and sprinted. Once or twice I slipped or hit a tree in pursuit of the dextrous rodent, unskilled in the wolf's preferred method of catching prey, but I never lost its scent. Finally I got close enough and lunged out, jaws snapping closed over its body. It struggled desperately, pawing interchangeably between at me and at the air, even reaching back to try and bite my snout. But I had it. Briefly, I felt some control over my power, and shifted to switch to a two-legs body. Pulling my prey into my hands, I swiftly snapped at the head with more jaw strength than the little rodent could endure. With the fell strength of a grown-up's grip, I ripped the rodent's head off, eliciting a sharp, pained scream from it as I did. Only its faint echo through the rain lasted longer than the rough decapitation. I shifted back into the four-legs wolf form as I consumed my prey. That was rabbit number four. It was difficult to get past the fur when I first started hunting on my own, but the bones were almost a delicacy. It was like crunching ice.
The rain hadn't let up, and the clouds were pretty thick, so I could change back. I ran back to the box I stashed my clothes in, shifted, and put them on. The rain was just going to soak them, and I didn't mind getting wet. After all, getting wet didn't seem to make me sick like it did for the kids at school, but I didn't say anything. They'd all just think I was crazy, and I went through a phase like that at our last home. It didn't last, but it wasn't cool.
I ran through the rain, delighting in the cold and the nature shower on my way through town. I caught the attention of several tall strangers offering to let me come in out of the rain. The people I did know knew to let me be, because they said, "if I'm able to go running around at night and still come back, why I must be doing just fine", but they always asked me what I learned in school. Sometimes people did call the police, but I just ran away. I was faster than them, but I never let them see how fast I could run.
I knew Ben the bartender, a nice man who would only tell me that "bartender" meant he "tended the bar" and served special drinks for tall people. When I later learned what that was, I asked, "That's like a counter, right? I could help you tend the bar, if you want." Him and the people in his "bar" only laughed, though. I also knew Jim there. I liked talking to Jim. Listening to him talk made me feel at ease, and he knew how to tell the kind of humor that made kids laugh. I knew Edelynn. She said she was a baker, but she always stood outside. She always had a muffin for me whenever I visited that part of town though, except it was always in a plastic bag. It wasn't warm like a fresh muffin, but it tasted like it came straight out of the oven. I had met Sara a few weeks ago, the first tall person I'd made friends with on my own. She was the one who brought me to meet some other people, except first it was just to try and have the police get me. Mum always told me that they were nice adults, but to stay away from them. Sara was always asking for change, so every night I went out to let my inner beast roam(that's what Mum said it was) or just to run, I'd make sure I had some pennies to leave in her can by morning.
I liked stopping to say hi before I ran home every night I went out to play. Tonight, after my fourth bunny snack, I ran into Edelynn first, and she gave me a couple soft sugar cookies. They had raisins in them though, and I wasn't hungry either, so I decided I'd give it to Sara. After I saw Edelynn, I went to Ben's bar and got a glass of milk from him. He never had any the first three or four times I came in, but the next time I did, he just had a glass ready for me. I stayed to talk to Jim for a bit, and after listening to him talk for a while, he looked like he wasn't alright, and he started crying. When I asked him about it, Ben just told me to leave.
The rain was coming down softer when I left the bar. I couldn't help thinking about Jim and why he got so sad all of a sudden just talking to me. I waited for the cars to pass before running across. I pulled out the change in my pocket as I got closer to Sara's alley. Usually she was right next to the sidewalk, but I couldn't see her. When I got there, I could hear the sound of hitting, and people talking. When I rounded the corner, what I saw made the rain feel like ice, holding me in place.
Three tall people were all standing around Sara, hitting her. I couldn't force myself to say anything or move in one direction or the other, and they hit her a few more times before anyone noticed me. When she saw up at me, she said, "Tod, just leave," before one of the mean men hit her again.
"Who the hell? 'Tod'? Ain't no Tod coming for you, trash."
"Stop it!"
I don't know why, but I felt really bad when she looked at me. Like she wanted help, but wished I hadn't come. It was for stuff like this when Mum didn't have a thing for me to do. She only said that when I wasn't sure what to do, to look deep down and decide for myself. I decided I didn't want these men to hurt Sara. But now they were all looking at me. One of them walked up to me really slow, and looked right down at me.
"So, you're Tod. Are you her baby, Tod? Is this your mummy?"
"Um...no..."
"Really? Well, 'Tod', if you don't want any of what she's having, you'd better go on home, to your real mummy."
"Why are you hitting her?"
"Do I look like your mummy!?" he yelled. "I'm not your mummy! She's the one you should be asking stupid questions. Now get outta here."
"I..."
"Oh god." He put a hand to his forehead. "I don't have time for this."
I saw it coming. I knew I could have moved, but I didn't think the mean man would do to me what he was doing to Sara. The back of his hand stung my cheek and sent me to the ground. I felt weak. Like I couldn't do anything. I'd never felt like that before.
No, that wasn't it. I couldn't do anything in this body. That's what it was. I turned around with the meanest look on my face as I could muster, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. He just went back to hitting Sara. I saw bruises on her face, purple and red, and it made me the maddest I'd ever felt. Madder than I've ever been at my mom, or anybody who'd ever teased me at school. I stepped back into the street and looked up at the clouds. I could feel the wind blowing now. Until I thought about the clouds, I hadn't even noticed the rain was gone. I could see the moon peaking out just a little.
*Come on,* I thought. *Come on, Moon.*
Sara cried the loudest I'd heard her cry out tonight, and it made me break my focus. For a second, I felt like it was my fault for waiting for more of the moon to show. I looked back up again. *Come on!* The moon was starting to come out halfway when I decided to shift early, to the teeth and claws. *Come on, Moon!*
I stood there, watching and waiting for the moon while I sometimes flinched at the sounds Sara made. Finally, the moon peaked out just enough for the body I wanted. I grew to the size of a baby bear, with tip-toe legs and a doggy-snout, and went back into the alley. Sara was lying on the ground, her eyes closed, both of them bruised.
"You're in luck kid, we're done now." He must not have seen me changed yet, or wasn't paying much attention to me, when he said that. Stay here and cry for the bitch if you--"
I lunged at him, latching on with my claws, and clamped my jaws around his neck. I squeezed so tight I could taste blood. Then I pulled, pushing back on him with my feet and pulling back with my teeth. The throat came right off. I heard his friends cry.
"Oh jesus!"
"You're fucking kidding me!"
I didn't notice them until they raised them, but the entire time the first man was hitting Sara, they watched with bats in their hands. One of them swung, hitting dirt with metal, while the other did the same with a wooden paddle. I ran up the paddle, clinging to his arm as I leaped to his shoulder, and clawed at his eyes. The man with the metal bat swung again, knocking me off, but not before I bit the nose.
"Fuck! You bit my nose off! You little monster!" screamed the man with the paddle.
The other backed away in horror as his friend held his face in his hands. I pulled the cricket bat he was holding away, and swung over my head as hard as I could at the other man. He reeled from the impact, falling to his knees, grasping at the spot between his legs and dropping the metal bat. Next I swung at the noseless man's face bat as hard as I could. With an icky *crack*, he went down instantly, falling to the dirt like a doll. I then swung at the last guy as he was whimpering on the ground, hitting his belly over and over again. When I tired of lifting the bat, I dropped it, pounced on his face, and clawed at it. I punched and clawed at his face long after he stopped moving. After they all stopped moving.
I was far away. The moment I could bring myself to look away from the mess of blood and gross stuff, when I'd realized what had happened, I went to licking the blood off my hands like I'd stuck my fingers in a hot pie. I tried to lick it off the ground, until I realized I was licking blood.
"O-oh Mum," I whispered.
Later, under the intense light of the full moon, I pointed with my paw. "[There,]" I said in Scottish, my voice deep like a growl. "[Down there...wait, where did she go?]"
"Where'd who go?" asked Mom.
"[Sara. The one I told you they were hitting.]"
"[Wherever she went, it's just as well. Let's get down there.]" She jumped to the ground with me on her back. Clutching a body in her jaws, she bounded back up to the roof of the building.
"[Wait, Mum...]"
"[I'll handle this part,]" she said when she jumped back down. She carried the other two bodies up. When she got back down, she started licking at the ground. "[Lick,]" she ordered.
I licked, and I liked it, but something about it being people blood felt wrong. I felt something squish in my mouth. I yelped when I dropped it, an eye looking up lazily toward the night sky.
"[It's too late to be fussy,]" Mom growled. "[In fact, you'd better get the pieces first.]"
I picked it up in my mouth again. I tried, but I couldn't stand to chew it, so I swallowed, like I did with peas or blueberries. Minutes passed as we licked and licked. At first we had an easy time slurping it up. Someone came by, and it was enough for Mom to growl and "bluff charge" at him to scare him away. Slurping became licking, and sometimes that meant licking dirt. After five more minutes of it she finally told me to stop. It was difficult to see, but there was just enough mixed in with the spit to color the grimy mess red.
"[Now, get on my back. When we get up there, wait on me.]"
I did. she took me up to the rooftop where the bodies were. The stilled expressions on their mutilated faces almost scared me a second time. Mom started tearing at the bodies. She broke limbs into more than two pieces with her teeth and paws, ripped bones out. Once finished, she divied the icky remains into two piles. She pointed at one of the piles, which had more bones ripped out, no naughty parts, and no heads, and was much smaller than the other. Probably because I couldn't eat as much as Mom. Just seeing all that body stuff and seeing it get ripped up, seeing stuff outside that should be inside, made me want to vomit, but I didn't. My wolf nose and eyes didn't mind so much.
"[Now, eat.]"
I sniffled. "[Mum...]"
"[Eat! NOW.]"
I ate. I slurped up intestines. I crunched the bones like really tough ice. I chewed sinew like the marble on meat. Then I noticed something among my pile: bowels. There were three. I nosed them away from the rest of the pile before I continued.
Mom must have noticed. "[That's for your mistake,]" she said.
"[Uh...what?]"
"[You got involved. Now we have to eat them. It happens sometimes, but this could have been avoided. When people are very, very mean to you, sometimes you have to eat them, when you can't run, or when they've seen you, and you always have to clean up after your mess. But they weren't mean to us. That's what makes this a bad mess.]"
"[They were hurting her! They hurt her REALLY bad--]"
"[And they could have killed her for all I care! Now EAT.]"
I went back to the bones first, pouting as I did and for the rest of my pile. I actually felt okay with bones, any bones. Still, I could chew the rest. The hearts, the liver, the lungs. But not the eyes. She left the eyes for me too, and the nose I bit off while the mean man was still alive. Probably because I didn't like the eye in the alley. It was raw, "good", but weird. It was like eating the rabbits; except, it was nothing like eating the rabbits. When we finished, she ordered me to lick again, watching as I did.
On our way back home, darting over rooftops and between shadows, Mom only said one thing to me, one thing she repeated to me and made me repeat just to be sure I listened and obeyed:
First, about the flashbacks. During the conversation at the Trip Trap, certain topics will trigger literary "flashbacks". These flashbacks a… moreren't being told word-for-word to the audience at the bar, they're not as silly as all that. Rather, the reader is going back in time to see the events from Tod's perspective as they unfold, while Tod in the "present day" is either telling the story in summary, or merely laying out what happened directly. The way the conversation is going will clue the reader in on how the "story" of the flashback is being told, or if it's merely being glossed over, at the bar.
Now I went through all that to get to this caveat about a flashback in the story below: it's being told from a specific perspective, or the "younger Tod" we'll say. If, in a flashback, Tod is speaking oddly, or differently from how he does at the Trip Trap(or "present day"), it's to be assumed that he's describing it as he would if he were jus… [view original content]
Carla had indeed heard about the Shack. Her father and Bigby went there one night and what was left of his meal, he gave to Carla. The air was coated with the smell of grease and fries. Her stomach was now growling and she was sure the people behind her could hear. Carla ordered a double with extra cheeses, mayo and mustard, lettuce and tomato only with the side of seasoned curly fries. Gren nearly had the whole menu on the lady's register: Two Triple Bypass with extra cheese and sauce, everything on it but no tomatoes with a side of regular fries and fried mushrooms. To top it all off, he had three chocolate milkshakes-two for him, one for Carla.
"You forgot to order a drink, silly," replied Gren, as he paid for the food. "Besides, with THESE burgers, you need a nice cold shake. Makes the meal even better."
When their food was ready, Carla and Gren took a seat in a table near the street. She wanted to watch the traffic and crowds of people making their way to the final destination. Gren thought that was silly; he hated this city and couldn't understand Carla's fascination with filth. She explained that it was like a treasure to her; yes, indeed the city could be filthy and destructive but it was also a perfect find to her. The towering buildings with the twinkling lights and the hustle of the citizens was always fun to watch. Gren continued listening to Carla's wild imagination take the reins. He rolled his eyes; this city was no treasure or anything to look forward to. He had no choice, just like she. He could recall a time when the only twinkling light were those above; sometimes, he missed the old world and the hidden gems it provided. A loud honking horn brought him back to reality. Carla was watching him.
"You okay there, Gren? You left me for awhile!"
Gren took a fry and dipped it into the ketchup.
"Yeah, Carla. I'm fine. Just thinking..."
Gren was such a mystery to Carla. For such a large creature, he didn't say much. He always kept to himself and Carla couldn't understand how a person could continue in this world alone. Even in the last couple of months, Gren preferred to be alone. He would call Carla every night, sure, but it was never the same; seeing the person's face and holding a conversation was always the better choice to her. But Carla never brought it up again, not after the incident that happened a month ago. She was careful since that night.
"Why do you hate the city so," asked Carla.
"Really, Carla? Can we just drop this silly topic. You KNOW how much this place disgusts me; filthy, no good place. Nothing good ever comes out of it...."
"You did...."
Her remark caught Gren off guard. Although he knew the Smiths very well, he was still careful; he was showing Carla bits of himself that no one had seen in years; parts of his bare soul, fears, wants that even the Trip Trap crew didn't know of. He didn't want everything on the table, however.He was loyal to her; like he was to the very few friends he did have. Gren knew Carla cared but that whole mindset was still there; she was a mundy, not a Folker or even a Fable. Despite her mixed blood, she was more mundy then anything; he grew to hate the mundies over the years and yet, he didn't have an ounce of hatred for Carla. Just fear. He just stared at Carla but realized in her eyes, even at that moment, she still cared.
"How is the food," Gren said. He wanted to change the subject and fast. He could feel the anger boiling to the surface. If this didn't go away soon, he would have to leave much sooner then he had planned.
"It's delicious," replied Carla. "I've had this before because of my dad. Oh man-sometimes there is nothing like a good burger."
Carla leaned in, fry in hand and dipped it into Gren's ketchup. He just starred and smiled. The sudden urge to flip this table over had passed; he could feel the calming sensation overcome his body. He knew it was safe to continue.
"So, how do you like working for the sheriff?"
"Its nice, actually. I file papers most of the time, answer phone calls. Boring things like that. Nothing exciting but if it opens up doors to other possibilities, then I will take it."
Gren looked confused. "Open doors?"
"Well, because I'm mundy. I remember my first day at the office. Bluebeard was there and was not pleased to see me, especially knowing I was the secretary replacement. Him and Snow were at it for what felt like days. She swore I wouldn't say a word or cause trouble. I mean, seriously Gren-who would believe me if I DID say something? 'Uh, yes hello sir. Did you know I work for the Big Bad Wolf and Snow White? Ah yes, and a green flying monkey as well?' They would throw me into an insane asylum!"
Gren laughed; it was true and perhaps that's why he couldn't hate her the way he felt about all other mundies. She was willing to cover all of this up. As they finished off their meal, Gren looked at his watch. It read 6:30. The sun was still high in the sky and slowly making its final appearance among the buildings. Gren was not ready to call it a night; he was sure Carla had the same idea, as he lookedup and found her grinning from ear to ear.
"Look, I'm ready for a cold one. You want to go to the Trip Trap?"
Carla gathered her items, thanked Gren and began walking down the street. Gren looked confused and was soon after her. Carla knew better then to go to the Trip Trap; although she and Woody got along just fine, her and Holly couldn't quite see eye to eye. Holly was always giving her a rough time. Why? Because she was a mundy; Holly did not like having them in her bar. Folkers were one thing; she made an exception for her father and sisters but never Carla. Last thing she needed was a fight with the bar troll; she would never win against that match.
"CARLA! Damnit, wait! What the hell was that?"
"Of all the fucking bars you could pick to drink-"
"Look! I've talked to Holly, ok! I told her you about your current situation and you have not said ONE word to anyone in regards to our world. Just come with me and have a couple of drinks, ok? And if she DOES give you bullshit, let me handle her. What do you say?"
Carla hesitated; she didn't want trouble with Holly tonight, especially after the last encounter she had with her. Carla knew when she crossed the line and was not wanted; the Trip Trap was not the only place she was not allowed. But when an opportunity came her direction and Gren gave her that cheesy smile, how could she say no? As the pair walked down the street, in the direction of the bar, Carla had only one thing on her mind: was she biting off WAY more than she could chew? Was she truly ready for this world?
Oh snap! What happened with Holly and Carla?? Are you going to post that? This is good! Can't wait to read more! Can see Carla will have a rough time. Worse then Lyla!
Chapter 3
"Run"
Carla had indeed heard about the Shack. Her father and Bigby went there one night and what was left of his meal, h… moree gave to Carla. The air was coated with the smell of grease and fries. Her stomach was now growling and she was sure the people behind her could hear. Carla ordered a double with extra cheeses, mayo and mustard, lettuce and tomato only with the side of seasoned curly fries. Gren nearly had the whole menu on the lady's register: Two Triple Bypass with extra cheese and sauce, everything on it but no tomatoes with a side of regular fries and fried mushrooms. To top it all off, he had three chocolate milkshakes-two for him, one for Carla.
"You forgot to order a drink, silly," replied Gren, as he paid for the food. "Besides, with THESE burgers, you need a nice cold shake. Makes the meal even better."
When their food was ready, Carla and Gren took a seat in a table near the street. She wanted to watc… [view original content]
My next couple of pages will explain that. Her struggles with the fables will be much worse. Lyla's was a walk in the park. Glad everyone is enjoying it. :)
Oh snap! What happened with Holly and Carla?? Are you going to post that? This is good! Can't wait to read more! Can see Carla will have a rough time. Worse then Lyla!
This may be my most tense one yet! Or just as tense like my 4th chapter, haha. Previous chapter of my story should be on page 7 of this thre… moread.
Chapter 5: Out of the Frying Pan
Tez got out of the men's bathroom as quickly as he could, eventually sitting across from Snow again.
"Sn-Snow, we-, we need to get out of here."
"What? What are you talking about? I mean, we didn't even get our food yet!"
Tez whispered. "You were right to be suspicious about the waitress, Snow. She isn't a Mundy at all, she's a Fable. And, um, Bloody Mary is her name."
"How do you know that?"
"She... 'introduced' herself to me, she told me not to tell you. But I saw no need to be her loyal pet dragon. Besides, the things I saw happen in that bathroom? I don't want to even talk about a bad omen such as that."
Snow slumped back and rubbed her chin. "Shit. Okay, let's eat our food first and see what happens, we need our strength, es… [view original content]
Colin! Pretty much anything with that pig in is favourable in my book, however your clear and easy to read style would make it great nonetheless. Looking forward to reading more, and finding out about the brush.
A blank canvas....ripe for story telling. I dare say, you have given me an idea. A pillow? No thank you, but I will need a pen or perhaps a … morepaint brush.
Chapter One: Of Wolves and Pigs
---------------------------------------------
I'd never gave thought as to why I lived on The Farm. My other neighboors were usually Fables who couldn't afford the glamors, which is why I was somewhat envied here. I had a normal human appearance: olive toned skin, wavy copper hair, and grassy green eyes. This wasn't an ideal place to live, but it was where I felt most comfortable. I couldn't imagine sleeping in a town with so many people, who were up at ungodly hours of the night.
Sheriff Wolf would come from time to time with more fables who had either escaped, or just couldn't glamour themselves any longer. Normally, the Sheriff scared the fables shitless, due to his rough past. I guess no one wanted to end up on his plate next, as if he even … [view original content]
Yep! I tried to be as detailed as I could in this chapter, you know, before the little drink incident happened. I already have ideas for the 6th chapter, which will be longer and that they'll finally reach Fabletown. :)
A blank canvas....ripe for story telling. I dare say, you have given me an idea. A pillow? No thank you, but I will need a pen or perhaps a … morepaint brush.
Chapter One: Of Wolves and Pigs
---------------------------------------------
I'd never gave thought as to why I lived on The Farm. My other neighboors were usually Fables who couldn't afford the glamors, which is why I was somewhat envied here. I had a normal human appearance: olive toned skin, wavy copper hair, and grassy green eyes. This wasn't an ideal place to live, but it was where I felt most comfortable. I couldn't imagine sleeping in a town with so many people, who were up at ungodly hours of the night.
Sheriff Wolf would come from time to time with more fables who had either escaped, or just couldn't glamour themselves any longer. Normally, the Sheriff scared the fables shitless, due to his rough past. I guess no one wanted to end up on his plate next, as if he even … [view original content]
Would that quest be named something along the lines of 'Through A Nightmare Darkly'? Involving killing trolls with turpentine? Possibly in Bravil? If it is, that was one of my first ever Elder Scrolls quests, and I really enjoyed it.
Ooh, I think I know which paintbrush he's talking about.
Granted, I had to go look it up, but I remembered a sidequest in Oblivion involving a certain painter...
NOTE: Another image of Carla and Gren. Sorry again for the quality.
Enjoy.
imgur.com/SsfnXwP
Carla never wanted trouble from the bar troll. She had nothing against Holly and assured her many times her actions would not cause trouble for those in Fabletown. Her mission was simple: Help. Now Carla was doubting her decision to take over what her sister and father were trying to accomplish all those years ago. Maybe this wasn't the right choice; a mundy in the Fable community was like walking around with a target on your back. Holly didn't believe Carla wanted to help, however. She was sure Carla would 'spill' their secrets to the mundy world; indeed, they would see her as mental and possibly put her away but some mundies didn't know when to quit. There would be a few searching for the answers. It was bad enough Snow and Bigby allowed her to work here; now, they had to worry if she would be their demise.
Carla was beginning to create excuses in her head as to WHY she was at the Trip Trap; sure, Gren was with her but that would add more fuel to te ever growing fire. Holly didn't like seeing Gren spend all his time with Carla. His once interest in Lyla was one thing; she was a Folker and although their worlds didn't like one another, she could over look it. Carla, however, was a mundy and Holly did not see that relationship a possibility. They would have more people following them then they did for her sister; the Council, the Mayor of Fabletown, even her beloved Business office would have to document EVERY move she made. And if they DID have children, there was a good chance they would be sent to the Farm; both Carla and Gren couldn't do a thing unless the child was glamoured.
Before she could back out and turn around, the two of them were standing before the bar. Carla could feel her heart trying to escape her chest; the thudding and fast pace was making her head spin and all she wanted to do was hide. Gren noticed the color of her face lightning up. He reached over, grabbed both her shoulder and gave them a tight squeeze.
"Don't worry," Gren whispered into Carla's ear. "You will be just fine. I'm here, remember? If she gives you shit, just let me handle her."
"That's the problem," Carla replied, as she moved from Gren's grip. "Yes, you are here with me and I appreciate that. Honestly, I do. But I don't want this to be the only way to settle this silly little feud between Holly and I!"
Gren grabbed her hands and held them in his. Carla looked down; his hands were so much larger compared to her own. They nestled nicely into his palms when they held hands. The texture was rough against her soft skin. She liked the feel of it, though. Never bothered her.
"You running won't help, either," said Gren with a smile. "You AND Holly need to get over all of this silly bullshit. Holly is so fucking full of shit sometimes, God love her. Don't worry about it, Carla."
Something in his answer managed to calm her nerves; Carla looked all around her for some excuse to just run. But all she found was Gren. Maybe he was right-they would have to put this silly fight to rest. So, Gren led the way and into the bar she walked; the sound of the final nail being put into her coffin.
Gren and Carla walked into the bar; the music playing softly, Jack and Woody drinking while playing darts. They looked up and smiled when they noticed the two; Holly was nowhere to be seen. Carla automatically assumed she was in the back either stocking or avoiding Gren. This was the usual time her came in for a drink. Since holly found out Gren and Carla were 'seeing' each other, she seemed to find any excuse to avoid him. maybe it was just coincidence. Jack started making his way to Gren, handed him a bottle and gave him a punch in the arm.
"Hey, look who it is," said Jack. "Man, didn't think you would be here tonight, Gren. Hey, Carla! Finally thought it was safe to show your face, huh? Pretty brave for a mundy; in a room full of creatures that would tear your head off in an instant-"
Carla knew he wasn't lying. If they really wanted to, they could dispose their glamoured looks and kill her on the spot. She watched Gren grab one off the pool sticks and swing it against jack's head, knocking the trickster to the ground; his drink and several darts to follow. He threw the stick to the side and motioned for Carla to follow.
"Gees, Gren," yelled Jack. "What was that? I was just kiddin' around with her. She knows it was a joke, right Carla? Tell him this is how we always kid around-"
"It's not funny, Jack," said Woody. "She's on edge as it is around this place. Stop giving her such a hard time. It's nice to see you, Carla. wish you would come around more often..."
"You just said the reason, Woody," replied Carla, as she took a seat next to Gren. "I wish Holly would just..."
Just as she spoke, the back door opened. Her heart stopped for that very moment. Carla wanted to just run out the door, down the dark streets and back to the Pudding & Pie; she wanted to hide and pretend like she was never there. Before she could fully make a decision, Holly stood there. Her face said it all; she appeared disgusted, annoyed and swore if she could, reach over and end it all. She slowly walked over until she was standing in front of Carla; Gren's hand found her own and he quickly grabbed it. Carla wondered if Gren could feel or hear her heartbeat.
"What are you doing here, Carla," asked Holly. "You know the rules..."
"Relax, Holly," said gren. She's here for a drink. That's it. Why don't you calm the fuck down, alright?"
"She KNOWS how I feel about her being here, Gren. Why don't you keep your motherfucking mouth shut and let me handle this. This is MY bar after all."
Jack and Woody were now at the dar; Jack was too busy rubbing the back of his head to care about Carla's problems.
"Holly, you let Lyla and John in here," said Woody. "I mean, they are no different. She may be a mundy but she's known about us since she was a little girl. For heaven sakes, I would tell her stories about the homelands, the story of me and Bigby, the-"
Holly slammed the Whiskey bottle down, causing Carla to jump. She was prepared. For what, she had no idea just yet. But Gren's sudden change in eye color knew it was bad; his glamour was fading fast. She suddenly heard a low growl escaping his mouth.
"Holly, relax, okay? Carla has not or WILL NOT say a word. She has been around us just as long as her sisters; anyone of them could spill our secrets. Its a chance we take but nothing has happened. Will you just stop-"
"I'm sick of taking chances, Gren," said Holly. "I'm tired of waiting to see what's going to happen next. Carla may have won the hearts of the Sheriff and Whit, maybe even Cole but not me. Mundies stay with mundies-end of story; nothing more, nothing less. I can't understand your fascination with her, anyways."
Gren took back what was left in his glass and slammed it back down. He stood up and got in Holly's face; Carla was up and had moved to the side. Jack and Woody watched on; Jack was quietly taunting them both, hoping for an all out battle to take place in the Trip Trap. If it didn't involve his life, he found it as 'entertainment.'
"Watch what the fuck you say...you've been pissing me off lately, Holly..."
"YOU of all people have no right to speak, Gren. YOU felt the same way. She shows you SOME attention and suddenly everything is okay and we are nothing but rainbows and fucking sunshine! Remember the reason why we are in this shit hole, Gren...."
Gren didn't say a word. He stood there in silence. Carla was waiting for hi to say anything to break the silence.
"I'm sorry, Gren," said Holly. "I'm sorry to do this to either of you. You're a sweet girl, Carla; really, you and your family have been nothing but sweet. Lyla and Georgie have opened up so many doors and those little babies are a joy to be around. But, mundies and Fables....we just can't-"
"I get it Holly," Carla said. "I do. Sorry. This was a mistake. See you around. Bye, Gren."
Carla turned around and walked out the door; Gren was soon on her trail, trying to keep up. Woody and Jack looked over at Holly, who was now cleaning the counter. She didn't say a word, as Woody left and Jack continued drinking.
"Man, Holly. That was harsh. Poor Carla. As she want's to do is-"
"Shut the fuck up, Jack. You don't know...."
Holly continued cleaning the counters. She had her reasons; Carla's family had their own.
Carla was half way home before Gren finally caught up; although she was in heels, when Carla was in desperate need to go home, she would in a flash. Gren grabbed her arm just as she turned the corner; the infamous pink neon lights of the Pudding & Pie ahead of them. She turned around and saw him. Carla couldn't stay mad at him; he didn't do a damn thing to her.
"Carla-"
"I'm sorry for running out there like that, Gren. I told you, though. I...I told you, its not worth it. She doesn't want me there..."
"Well, that's going to have to fucking stop, Carla. You didn't do a damn thing-"
"Yes. But not too long ago, you felt the same thing about both Folkers AND Mundies. Remember?"
Gren did. He remembered all too well. Carla grabbed his hand and gave him a slight kiss on the cheek.
"I have to go, Gren. I have to be at the office early. But, I would love if you came by. See you later..."
Carla released her hold on gren's hand and walked away. She had to pretend this wasn't bothering her; she couldn't let it get to her. She couldn't blame Holly, blame anyone because she could recall disliking Gren because of that very thing-his hate for mundies. Now, he was standing behind her. Gren watched her walk into the club but not before turning back and waving.
He continued standing there. Fucking mundies, he thought as he smiled.
Cute picture. I also can't wait to see where this goes. I can see Carla is going to have a lot more problems than Lyla. I loved it! Can't wait to read more. seems like Gren is on Carla's side. Good.
Chapter 4
"Room for one more"
NOTE: Another image of Carla and Gren. Sorry again for the quality.
Enjoy.
imgur.com/SsfnXwP
Carla… more never wanted trouble from the bar troll. She had nothing against Holly and assured her many times her actions would not cause trouble for those in Fabletown. Her mission was simple: Help. Now Carla was doubting her decision to take over what her sister and father were trying to accomplish all those years ago. Maybe this wasn't the right choice; a mundy in the Fable community was like walking around with a target on your back. Holly didn't believe Carla wanted to help, however. She was sure Carla would 'spill' their secrets to the mundy world; indeed, they would see her as mental and possibly put her away but some mundies didn't know when to quit. There would be a few searching for the answers. It was bad enough Snow and Bigby allowed her to work here; now, they had to worry if she would be their demise.
… [view original content]
This may be my most tense one yet! Or just as tense like my 4th chapter, haha. Previous chapter of my story should be on page 7 of this thre… moread.
Chapter 5: Out of the Frying Pan
Tez got out of the men's bathroom as quickly as he could, eventually sitting across from Snow again.
"Sn-Snow, we-, we need to get out of here."
"What? What are you talking about? I mean, we didn't even get our food yet!"
Tez whispered. "You were right to be suspicious about the waitress, Snow. She isn't a Mundy at all, she's a Fable. And, um, Bloody Mary is her name."
"How do you know that?"
"She... 'introduced' herself to me, she told me not to tell you. But I saw no need to be her loyal pet dragon. Besides, the things I saw happen in that bathroom? I don't want to even talk about a bad omen such as that."
Snow slumped back and rubbed her chin. "Shit. Okay, let's eat our food first and see what happens, we need our strength, es… [view original content]
First, about the flashbacks. During the conversation at the Trip Trap, certain topics will trigger literary "flashbacks". These flashbacks a… moreren't being told word-for-word to the audience at the bar, they're not as silly as all that. Rather, the reader is going back in time to see the events from Tod's perspective as they unfold, while Tod in the "present day" is either telling the story in summary, or merely laying out what happened directly. The way the conversation is going will clue the reader in on how the "story" of the flashback is being told, or if it's merely being glossed over, at the bar.
Now I went through all that to get to this caveat about a flashback in the story below: it's being told from a specific perspective, or the "younger Tod" we'll say. If, in a flashback, Tod is speaking oddly, or differently from how he does at the Trip Trap(or "present day"), it's to be assumed that he's describing it as he would if he were jus… [view original content]
I won't, dude. I still need to work on the list a little bit more, in order to make sure that I'm fair about it and that I will try to list everyone. I think all of you will like it, I'm really excited to share when the 'award ceremony' comes.
It's not really death for the evil as much as it's Tod not really understanding what he just did. He knows he's stronger than normal adults, his mom even explained that to him once. Tod has a Feeling personality and a mean streak inside him, but he just didn't yet have that thing that clicks in your mind to let you know the difference, between making sure someone doesn't do something again, and going too far. Or at least it didn't click in that moment.
I added brackets to show a different language being used, starting with when Tod's mom enters the story, and edited in that we were speaking in Scottish-Gaelic(it just says "Scottish", but I really mean the Gaelic dialect).
First, about the flashbacks. During the conversation at the Trip Trap, certain topics will trigger literary "flashbacks". These flashbacks a… moreren't being told word-for-word to the audience at the bar, they're not as silly as all that. Rather, the reader is going back in time to see the events from Tod's perspective as they unfold, while Tod in the "present day" is either telling the story in summary, or merely laying out what happened directly. The way the conversation is going will clue the reader in on how the "story" of the flashback is being told, or if it's merely being glossed over, at the bar.
Now I went through all that to get to this caveat about a flashback in the story below: it's being told from a specific perspective, or the "younger Tod" we'll say. If, in a flashback, Tod is speaking oddly, or differently from how he does at the Trip Trap(or "present day"), it's to be assumed that he's describing it as he would if he were jus… [view original content]
Carla opened the door to the Pudding & Pie; it was quiet and the only light she noticed was coming from down the hall. She closed the door behind her, hung up her coat and walked down the hall. As she reached the end, she noticed Mary and Henry at the bar; he was cleaning up while her sister nursed a bottle of Whiskey. Carla rolled her eyes and headed to them; Mary sure was drinking an awful lot again. Carla took a seat next to her sister. Mary never stirred.
"Hey, Carla," said Henry, as he continued wiping down the counter. "Do you want anything to drink? Can't guarantee it will be anything you like but I can try."
"No thank you, Henry," replied Carla. "I just want to sit here and talk to Mary..."
Carla noticed the vacant look in her sister's eyes; she looked tired and weak, like she had not seen a good night's rest in days. She watched as Mary placed the bottle to her lips, take a long swig and slam the bottle back down. This caused Carla to jump in surprise. Mary looked over at her sister. God, thought Carla. You look awful.
"Go ahead, sis. Talk."
Mary began finishing her drink; Henry continued cleaning the bar, although he too, wanted to know what was going on. Carla noticed Henry stop time to time to 'clean' an area around Mary; he wiped that spot over ten times that Carla had counted.
"What is up, Mary," said Carla. "You look so tired. If this is not for you, maybe you should-"
"It's fine, Carla," mumbled Mary. "It has nothing to do with this fucking job. This is life, Carla. Suppose you wouldn't understand that, though."
Carla was confused by her remark; what did she mean by that?
"Mary. Look, if Bluebeard is causing you problems, maybe dad can-"
Mary looked over at Carla. She couldn't remember the last time seeing Mary so burnt out; the flame and life in her once meadow green eyes were pathetic and sad now.
"Don't worry bout my troubles, Carla. Maybe you should worry about yourself for once instead. Where were you tonight? You came home late..."
Carla was trapped against a corner; she loved Mary but she wasn't hesitant to get anything out of you, especially if it benefited her situation. She already had an idea of the topic she wanted to discuss; Carla was not in the mood to fight with her about Gren tonight. Not like she had enough people talking down to her like some child. Still, Carla carried on.
"What do you mean, Mary," asked Carla. "I was at work-"
"Pssh. Snow doesn't keep people THAT late, especially a 'mundy' like yourself; yeah, I heard they have restrictions on where you can go in your OWN work place! Bigby told me; he was here about an hour ago to visit the quads and have Lyla and Georgie sign more papers. So, that I KNOW is a lie. You were with him again, weren't you..."
"I went and had a few drinks, Mary," Carla said with anger in her voice. "I went and had some food and went to have drinks. I'm not a child, Mary. I can do whatever the fuck I want! Who are you to-"
"He's a FABLE, Carla-YOU ARE A MUNDY! This is the bullshit dad and mom tried to warn us about! They had nothing but trouble; they STILL do and we are not kids anymore, Carla!"
"There is not a whole lot going on, Mary! We are friends-"
"Fucking bullshit, Carla! Stop the lying! I SEE how he looks at you; how you two are around one another. He'd follow you all over this fucking city if he could! You're asking for trouble!"
"Fuck off, Mary. Since when do YOU care! All you do is go by the book; follow the Council like they are God and everything they say is true! They are good people, Mary! You've been around Bigby AND Snow since we were kids, remember? Dad left the Council for a reason-"
"WE belong to the Council, Carla. The only reason WHY I'm HELPING the fucking Fables is because our dear sweet, little sister couldn't keep her damn legs closed and thanks to that, she and Georgie God damn fucking Porgie, have halfer babies and now ALL THESE OTHER FUCKERS want my help because of her!"
"You're a monster, Mary! How dare you! She is family, OUR blood! Those babies-"
Mary looked over at Carla and smiled.
"Monster? Oh I'll show you monster....since you LOVE them so much...."
"Mary...."
Mary finished her drink and threw the glass down; there was a slight crack on the side and Henry ran over to gather it before it shattered. Last thing he needed was to miss a shard and one of the babies finds it. Georgie would have his head on a silver platter and his nut sack feed to the dogs. She walked over to Carla, who was now trying to avoid her sister. Since Mary discovered her inner wolf side, it was dangerous; it was like waking a sleeping bear that was hibernating for so long. You were not sure what the reaction would be.
"Shut the fuck up, Carla! I'm not stupid! I Know you were out with HIM tonight! You fucking want trouble, huh? You think all of this is a fucking joke to you?! We have been at war for centuries with the Fables, with our OWN kind because of this halfer fucking bullshit! You KNOW the rules! Fuck, Carla! You saw what happened with our sister and Georgie-they DOCUMENT you like a possession, follow you around and nearly destroy your life! Fuck, Carla! And Georgie was the HUMAN Fable; Gren is not! Do you see he NEEDS a glamour, just to walk out those fucking doors!"
Mary's eyes were suddenly a dark yellow; Carla could see the claws coming through, the growls in her throat and the fur slowly appearing all over her arms. Henry rushed beside her; he was prepared to take a bullet for Carla. She was mundy; he however, was wolf and couldn't risk Mary trying to take down Carla. Without meaning to, she could easily kill Carla.
"Mary, please! What has gotten into you? You HELP those poor Fables! What are you suddenly so against this? I thought-"
Mary lifted up one of the stools and tossed it at Carla. She managed to dodge it; a piece of wood, however, was now lodged into her arm. The pain was burning all up and down. Carla tried to remove it but it was too much. she was not a titan like her father and sisters; like always, she was weak like all mundies were. Carla slide under the table and popped up on the other side.
"Mary! Stop! You're going to wake everyone up! Just, stop and calm down! We can talk about this-"
"Your life will be ruined," roared Mary. "If you two have a child, they will take it away for sure unless you glamoured it! He's a fucking Grendel, Carla; YOU are a mundy! Stick to your own kind! Avoid all the troubles dad had, Lyla has....Gina...not you, Carla! You can't-"
There was concern in Mary's eyes the entire time she spoke; hurt filling the sentences and anguish ending them. Carla knew what kind of a risk she was taking; her sister did mate with a Fable and produce Halfer children but Georgie's appearance was human. He could easily walk out those doors and no one would think twice. Gren, however, was not; in reality, he was a monster that needed to be hidden. If they did have children, there was a 97% chance the offspring would be that-monsters. They would have to get them all glamours or the Farm would be their demise. She was mundy and a titan with such strength could easily kill her; Gren didn't exactly have the best temper. He was a giant with a short fuse. Before Carla could speak, Mary came to a hault. Mary let out one more roar before she stumbled to the ground. Carla looked up. There, standing on the stairs, was Georgie. Lyla ran down and grabbed Carla.
"Oh my God, Carla," said Lyla. "What the fuck happened? What is this?"
They both looked over and found Hans and a wolfed-out Henry lifting Mary and placing her carefully on the couch. Several tranquilizers stuck out from behind her. Georgie walked over to Lyla, still trying to comfort Carla. She was shaking uncontrollably; she had never seen Mary in that form before.
"You alright, Carla," asked Georgie.
Carla was still getting used to the 'new' Georgie; it would take awhile before she could fully trust him. For now, she did because of Lyla and the babies. She took a seat with Lyla, still trying to understand what took place.
"Carla...."
"I'm fine, Georgie. Thank you...."
Georgie gave her a pat on the shoulder and walked over to Hans and Henry.
"Lyla. I'm sorry. Did the babies-"
"They are fine," chuckled Lyla. "They ARE half Georgie; that man could sleep through this place crumbling to the ground. Now that-what was this all about? Mary has never done this before...."
Carla looked over at Mary, who was slumped over the couch. It would be awhile before she came to; Lyla continued watching her, waiting for an answer. But Carla had none; she had no idea on what to say. All she knew was this-who were the REAL monsters in this situation?
Oh wow. 0.0 I understand now why there is so much tension. It does not seem fair, though to Carla. I get it-Georgie's appearance is human and Gren's is that of well, a Grendel! lol I also understand. She is a mundy in a Fable world. I can see why her sister and father are worried. Sry, look at me ramble on! This is just so much fun to read and the characters and rules and such that you have created is brilliant! I bet you were the one's always getting A's in English class, huh? Sry again for the rambles! Keep up the good work, Pie! Can't wait to read more! Hopefully everything will work out but obviously, that won't happen just yet.
Here of some pics to get an idea what the characters of my story would look like.
The Heroes
Draco the Dragon:
Viera the Phoeni… morex:
Wolven the Wolf
Marco the Vampire:
Irene the Fairy:
New characters and Villians.
Mett' the King Wendigo (Brother of the Wendigo that Wolven killed during the fight with Aizaax.)
The Boogeyman...:
Gillian the Weretiger:
Have big plans for my next story, not going to spoil it though Enjoy
Here of some pics to get an idea what the characters of my story would look like.
The Heroes
Draco the Dragon:
Viera the Phoeni… morex:
Wolven the Wolf
Marco the Vampire:
Irene the Fairy:
New characters and Villians.
Mett' the King Wendigo (Brother of the Wendigo that Wolven killed during the fight with Aizaax.)
The Boogeyman...:
Gillian the Weretiger:
Have big plans for my next story, not going to spoil it though Enjoy
Comments
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Chapter 3 (Or 4? I can't remember.): Trying to Fit In
I got home from work, as I do every night of the week. The full moon usually gives me more energy, though I'm not sure if it's linked through my wolf ancestry or through some other North Wind ma-do-hicky genes I've got. Every night has been getting hard to get through. I keep feeling like something is missing; I've got all I need, but maybe it's not enough? I don't know.
The kitchen table is covered with every fast food container you could think of. I never have time to cook on my own, nor do I have the time to clean on a daily basis. I work the night shift and tend to be the only one ever able to cover when someone is out sick or for family reasons. At least I'm not working among mundies, since they already started getting on my nerves when I got here.
"Why does that lady have blue streaks in her hair, mommy? Why is this chic holding up the line, does she even know how to order coffee right? Can you stop staring at me?"
Like, stop. I'm sorry I've got the heart of a 5 year old.
Anyway, I've been working at A Taste of the Homelands for a few months now. Mary is there more often that not, and she's my only source of real sanity at this point. Sure, she's shit-faced half the time, but you know what? She's more entertaining that the goblins who take up half the entire space behind the bar.
I've become increasingly aware of how things work. I can cook any of the food I'm ordered to cook, I can bus tables, bring over drinks. My boss thinks I'm a miracle worker, since I still cling onto my innocence and seem to help anyone I come across. Everything is fine, it's just that...
There's something....
Missing.
What am I missing?
I open the door to my bedroom and nearly have a heart attack.
"How the hell did you get in my house?!"
"Uhm, I use mirrors to go where I want to. You've got at least 6 here, so it wasn't hard. And I saw that something was bothering you, so I figured I'd get off my lazy ass and make sure you were alright. I guess."
"Well, I almost had a heart attack. But thanks, I guess. And yeah, I guess something has been bothering me."
"Tell ole Bloody Mary what's botherin' you."
"I think...I don't know. I just- I think I'm lonely."
"Well I'm your friend. You've got more family then you can count on your fingers. What else do you need?"
"Maybe a boyfriend. Or even just another friend. Who's a boy. I don't know!"
She keels over and laughs hysterically at what I just said.
"You're friggin' worrying about friggin' boys now? God, you DO grow up friggin' fast!" She continues to laugh, to the point of crying.
"Seriously. I see all these, these couples coming through the restaurant. I think I want someone to spend time with like that."
"Well don't look at me. I ain't no boy. But maybe we can go clubbing. Find some cute single Fables or something. Hey, you know what? That damn homelands ball party or whatever is coming up. Maybe we can attend, or something."
"You mean Remembrance Day? Actually, that's a good idea. I'll go with Snow and the cubs. And, well, my mother. Eh...maybe I shouldn't go...what if-"
"Oh come on! Live life on the edge, sweetheart. She won't notice you in a crowd of thousands of people. You can find SOMEONE to spend time with alone. You'll see."
"Oh, alright. I guess you win. But you better be there."
"Don't worry. I got my own date anyway. That asshole Jack wants to get in my pants, maybe I'll bring him and then dump him for someone hotter when we get there."
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I think I'll write the second part later. Too busy to finish :L I hope you like it!
Name: Remus Wolf
Personality: Kind towards people who are kind to him, but if someone messes with him, they get the death sentence.
Backstory: He is a Werewolf and distant cousin of Bigby Wolf. He has been hiding in vaults in the ground for 15 years. He had another cousin named Vath who got a life sentence after he ripped out the throat of a bartender. He eventually escaped and has been on the run and Remus has been trying to find him while running from the law. He also has a sister named Vahl who hides out in a faraway land.
Chapter One: Of Wolves and Pigs
---------------------------------------------
I'd never gave thought as to why I lived on The Farm. My other neighboors were usually Fables who couldn't afford the glamors, which is why I was somewhat envied here. I had a normal human appearance: olive toned skin, wavy copper hair, and grassy green eyes. This wasn't an ideal place to live, but it was where I felt most comfortable. I couldn't imagine sleeping in a town with so many people, who were up at ungodly hours of the night.
Sheriff Wolf would come from time to time with more fables who had either escaped, or just couldn't glamour themselves any longer. Normally, the Sheriff scared the fables shitless, due to his rough past. I guess no one wanted to end up on his plate next, as if he even used one back then. One day, I picked up my paintbrush and set off to Collin's place. I saw the slightly overweight pig (then again, which pig isn't?) grumbling when I walked up.
"Ashanti! Just the Fable I needed to see!" he said running up. I hid my brush in the back pocket of my jeans, and waved. "How are-"
"Cut the crap, Ash. Where's the brush?" Collin demanded. "I don't know what you're talking about." I said, feinging innocence. "The PAINTBRUSH, Ashanti. Where's the fucking paintbrush? And don't bother telling me you left it, because I know you never leave home without it." He said, sounding exasperated.
"You KNOW Wolf wouldn't like that, and besides, it's tapped." I said, folding my arms across my chest. He grumbled, and then his eyes got wide. I turned to what he was staring at, and saw Bigby Wolf himself. Collin and I ducked behind a bale of hay. "What the Hell is he doing here?" Collin hissed. "He's always coming here." I whispered.
"No, he's looking for someone." Collin whispered back. We looked on as Bigby smothered his cigarette, sniffed the air, and walked in our direction. "He's coming this way!" I whispered feverishly. "Dammit, go out there!" Collin whisper-shouted at me. "What?!" I said a bit too loudly. "Come on out, you two." Sheriff Wolf said in a bored tone.
We walked out into plain sight, and instantly, I felt a bit small under the famed wolf's gaze. Collin, however, sauntered right up to him. "Bigby! Wow! Have you been working out? I swear, you're getting more muscular by the day!" Collin said before Bigby sighed again (Geez, this guy does that alot!). "I'm not here for YOU, Collin. Ashanti, I'm going to need you to come with me." Bigby said, disrupting me from my thoughts.
"Me? What did I do?" I asked incrediously. "You'll be....assisting The Buisness Office." Bibgy said with a small delay. Collin shot me a look that said, "You're going to do this, and THEN, break me out." Then when I looked at Wolf, I also realized I had no choice. "Fine, but I want my own apartment."
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Now I went through all that to get to this caveat about a flashback in the story below: it's being told from a specific perspective, or the "younger Tod" we'll say. If, in a flashback, Tod is speaking oddly, or differently from how he does at the Trip Trap(or "present day"), it's to be assumed that he's describing it as he would if he were just telling the story or writing it down right after it happened. Which he's not by the way. It's just a little gimmick I'm pulling for the sake of..."immersion"? Yeah, that's it. I'm "immersing" the reader into the flashback.
And DragonButter, to be fair, I never outright elaborated that not only did Tod grow up with a lack of Fable influence, but that he also never knew that Fables existed. More on that later... Anyway, you are excused.
I guess I probably also should have mentioned that this one gets graphic. In a way that would make Hannibal proud.
Part 2, enjoy.
Tod: The Resident Werewolf
Part 2: Lesson in Discipline
I turned my gaze from Jack of the tales to the bar. Dug out my wallet and put down the cash for another shot. Holly poured me another, eyes open and head turned in my direction. I placed my fingers around the glass, leaving my hand there waiting for someone else to speak up, while they all waited on me. After ten more seconds, I heard the clatter of balls striking each other. I was the only one who turned around to see the bearded, bald man standing there, watching the balls move. He looked up at me, shrugged, and waited for Lily to take her turn. Instead, she was the first to speak.
"So, your parents..."
"Are mixed," I finished. "I hope that's not a problem," I added, giving a pointed look to Gren, who looked away and threw back another shot, indifferent to the enlightening moment.
"Of course not," Jack swifted. "We're all odd people here. I stole a pie on Christmas Day--sue me--Holly's people are...not people-persons, and...uh, sorry what was your name again?" he asked, giving a cheeky look to the bearded man.
"Very funny, Jack," he replied sarcastically. "Never gets old."
"And Gren's...well, just about what you'd expect, actually," Jack continued, pausing as I glanced down the bar, making a connection when I considered "Gren" might be a nickname. "But, it sounds like you grew up a wolf-out-of-water. That must have sucked."
I paused. "You aren't wrong there. It probably could have been better."
"So I hope you were looking to spend at least an hour here, cuz frankly I'm intrigued. I wanna hear your life story, if you don't mind sharing."
"Hmm. Yeah, lucky for you, you caught me in a rambling mood. And I will say, even for heisting during the season of giving, you seem like a nice guy, so why not."
"Attaboy, Allaway! So, why don't we start with your parents? Hell, might be someone I know."
"My mom was born and raised in Scotland, almost a hundred years ago," I answered. "She wasn't born pure Fable, either. Catriona, ring a bell?"
"Hmm...nope don't know any Fable by that name. So how far back does this go?"
"Just to my Mundy grandmother," I said, throwing back my second shot. "Raised Mom till she was barely teenage--till my mom was, I mean."
"What about after?" Lily asked.
"Well, Grandma had about all she could stand of keeping a shape-shifting little 'demon' girl a secret and out of trouble. How she came to have Mom in the first place didn't help either, but moving on: she put a sack over her head, masked her own scent with dirt, poop, leaves--really thought it out, actually--and went for a very, very long drive. Ended up near the border of France--or past it, or something. Anyway, you can guess where this is going."
"That's awful."
I shrugged. "She survived. Taught me what she learned."
"How to hide your 'werewolf' powers?" Jack snickered.
"Heh...yeah," I chuckled. "She didn't actually use the word until I was older, but for all we knew, werewolves existed and people just didn't get the facts right. But, hiding wasn't the only thing she taught me."
_______________________________________________________________________
Urban England, Spring 1962
The rain pelted me from the heavens above as I ran through the forest. Rustling leaves showered my feet and underbelly with water. The bark on the trees yielded to my claws when I climbed. Occasionally I'd go back to climbing to see how high I could get before falling. I'd hit the dirt and mud, running around in the rain to shake it off and get "clean" again.
My stomach groaned. I sniffed the air, but there was too much water coating everything to get any leads, so I ran some more. I ran around for ten minutes, coming up empty. My stomach railed against the inside of my belly, as if it thought I was ignoring it. Then, I caught a whiff of rabbit. Not much, but it would do. I bounded off in the direciton of the smell until I found my prey, and sprinted. Once or twice I slipped or hit a tree in pursuit of the dextrous rodent, unskilled in the wolf's preferred method of catching prey, but I never lost its scent. Finally I got close enough and lunged out, jaws snapping closed over its body. It struggled desperately, pawing interchangeably between at me and at the air, even reaching back to try and bite my snout. But I had it. Briefly, I felt some control over my power, and shifted to switch to a two-legs body. Pulling my prey into my hands, I swiftly snapped at the head with more jaw strength than the little rodent could endure. With the fell strength of a grown-up's grip, I ripped the rodent's head off, eliciting a sharp, pained scream from it as I did. Only its faint echo through the rain lasted longer than the rough decapitation. I shifted back into the four-legs wolf form as I consumed my prey. That was rabbit number four. It was difficult to get past the fur when I first started hunting on my own, but the bones were almost a delicacy. It was like crunching ice.
The rain hadn't let up, and the clouds were pretty thick, so I could change back. I ran back to the box I stashed my clothes in, shifted, and put them on. The rain was just going to soak them, and I didn't mind getting wet. After all, getting wet didn't seem to make me sick like it did for the kids at school, but I didn't say anything. They'd all just think I was crazy, and I went through a phase like that at our last home. It didn't last, but it wasn't cool.
I ran through the rain, delighting in the cold and the nature shower on my way through town. I caught the attention of several tall strangers offering to let me come in out of the rain. The people I did know knew to let me be, because they said, "if I'm able to go running around at night and still come back, why I must be doing just fine", but they always asked me what I learned in school. Sometimes people did call the police, but I just ran away. I was faster than them, but I never let them see how fast I could run.
I knew Ben the bartender, a nice man who would only tell me that "bartender" meant he "tended the bar" and served special drinks for tall people. When I later learned what that was, I asked, "That's like a counter, right? I could help you tend the bar, if you want." Him and the people in his "bar" only laughed, though. I also knew Jim there. I liked talking to Jim. Listening to him talk made me feel at ease, and he knew how to tell the kind of humor that made kids laugh. I knew Edelynn. She said she was a baker, but she always stood outside. She always had a muffin for me whenever I visited that part of town though, except it was always in a plastic bag. It wasn't warm like a fresh muffin, but it tasted like it came straight out of the oven. I had met Sara a few weeks ago, the first tall person I'd made friends with on my own. She was the one who brought me to meet some other people, except first it was just to try and have the police get me. Mum always told me that they were nice adults, but to stay away from them. Sara was always asking for change, so every night I went out to let my inner beast roam(that's what Mum said it was) or just to run, I'd make sure I had some pennies to leave in her can by morning.
I liked stopping to say hi before I ran home every night I went out to play. Tonight, after my fourth bunny snack, I ran into Edelynn first, and she gave me a couple soft sugar cookies. They had raisins in them though, and I wasn't hungry either, so I decided I'd give it to Sara. After I saw Edelynn, I went to Ben's bar and got a glass of milk from him. He never had any the first three or four times I came in, but the next time I did, he just had a glass ready for me. I stayed to talk to Jim for a bit, and after listening to him talk for a while, he looked like he wasn't alright, and he started crying. When I asked him about it, Ben just told me to leave.
The rain was coming down softer when I left the bar. I couldn't help thinking about Jim and why he got so sad all of a sudden just talking to me. I waited for the cars to pass before running across. I pulled out the change in my pocket as I got closer to Sara's alley. Usually she was right next to the sidewalk, but I couldn't see her. When I got there, I could hear the sound of hitting, and people talking. When I rounded the corner, what I saw made the rain feel like ice, holding me in place.
Three tall people were all standing around Sara, hitting her. I couldn't force myself to say anything or move in one direction or the other, and they hit her a few more times before anyone noticed me. When she saw up at me, she said, "Tod, just leave," before one of the mean men hit her again.
"Who the hell? 'Tod'? Ain't no Tod coming for you, trash."
"Stop it!"
I don't know why, but I felt really bad when she looked at me. Like she wanted help, but wished I hadn't come. It was for stuff like this when Mum didn't have a thing for me to do. She only said that when I wasn't sure what to do, to look deep down and decide for myself. I decided I didn't want these men to hurt Sara. But now they were all looking at me. One of them walked up to me really slow, and looked right down at me.
"So, you're Tod. Are you her baby, Tod? Is this your mummy?"
"Um...no..."
"Really? Well, 'Tod', if you don't want any of what she's having, you'd better go on home, to your real mummy."
"Why are you hitting her?"
"Do I look like your mummy!?" he yelled. "I'm not your mummy! She's the one you should be asking stupid questions. Now get outta here."
"I..."
"Oh god." He put a hand to his forehead. "I don't have time for this."
I saw it coming. I knew I could have moved, but I didn't think the mean man would do to me what he was doing to Sara. The back of his hand stung my cheek and sent me to the ground. I felt weak. Like I couldn't do anything. I'd never felt like that before.
No, that wasn't it. I couldn't do anything in this body. That's what it was. I turned around with the meanest look on my face as I could muster, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. He just went back to hitting Sara. I saw bruises on her face, purple and red, and it made me the maddest I'd ever felt. Madder than I've ever been at my mom, or anybody who'd ever teased me at school. I stepped back into the street and looked up at the clouds. I could feel the wind blowing now. Until I thought about the clouds, I hadn't even noticed the rain was gone. I could see the moon peaking out just a little.
*Come on,* I thought. *Come on, Moon.*
Sara cried the loudest I'd heard her cry out tonight, and it made me break my focus. For a second, I felt like it was my fault for waiting for more of the moon to show. I looked back up again. *Come on!* The moon was starting to come out halfway when I decided to shift early, to the teeth and claws. *Come on, Moon!*
I stood there, watching and waiting for the moon while I sometimes flinched at the sounds Sara made. Finally, the moon peaked out just enough for the body I wanted. I grew to the size of a baby bear, with tip-toe legs and a doggy-snout, and went back into the alley. Sara was lying on the ground, her eyes closed, both of them bruised.
"You're in luck kid, we're done now." He must not have seen me changed yet, or wasn't paying much attention to me, when he said that. Stay here and cry for the bitch if you--"
I lunged at him, latching on with my claws, and clamped my jaws around his neck. I squeezed so tight I could taste blood. Then I pulled, pushing back on him with my feet and pulling back with my teeth. The throat came right off. I heard his friends cry.
"Oh jesus!"
"You're fucking kidding me!"
I didn't notice them until they raised them, but the entire time the first man was hitting Sara, they watched with bats in their hands. One of them swung, hitting dirt with metal, while the other did the same with a wooden paddle. I ran up the paddle, clinging to his arm as I leaped to his shoulder, and clawed at his eyes. The man with the metal bat swung again, knocking me off, but not before I bit the nose.
"Fuck! You bit my nose off! You little monster!" screamed the man with the paddle.
The other backed away in horror as his friend held his face in his hands. I pulled the cricket bat he was holding away, and swung over my head as hard as I could at the other man. He reeled from the impact, falling to his knees, grasping at the spot between his legs and dropping the metal bat. Next I swung at the noseless man's face bat as hard as I could. With an icky *crack*, he went down instantly, falling to the dirt like a doll. I then swung at the last guy as he was whimpering on the ground, hitting his belly over and over again. When I tired of lifting the bat, I dropped it, pounced on his face, and clawed at it. I punched and clawed at his face long after he stopped moving. After they all stopped moving.
I was far away. The moment I could bring myself to look away from the mess of blood and gross stuff, when I'd realized what had happened, I went to licking the blood off my hands like I'd stuck my fingers in a hot pie. I tried to lick it off the ground, until I realized I was licking blood.
"O-oh Mum," I whispered.
Later, under the intense light of the full moon, I pointed with my paw. "[There,]" I said in Scottish, my voice deep like a growl. "[Down there...wait, where did she go?]"
"Where'd who go?" asked Mom.
"[Sara. The one I told you they were hitting.]"
"[Wherever she went, it's just as well. Let's get down there.]" She jumped to the ground with me on her back. Clutching a body in her jaws, she bounded back up to the roof of the building.
"[Wait, Mum...]"
"[I'll handle this part,]" she said when she jumped back down. She carried the other two bodies up. When she got back down, she started licking at the ground. "[Lick,]" she ordered.
I licked, and I liked it, but something about it being people blood felt wrong. I felt something squish in my mouth. I yelped when I dropped it, an eye looking up lazily toward the night sky.
"[It's too late to be fussy,]" Mom growled. "[In fact, you'd better get the pieces first.]"
I picked it up in my mouth again. I tried, but I couldn't stand to chew it, so I swallowed, like I did with peas or blueberries. Minutes passed as we licked and licked. At first we had an easy time slurping it up. Someone came by, and it was enough for Mom to growl and "bluff charge" at him to scare him away. Slurping became licking, and sometimes that meant licking dirt. After five more minutes of it she finally told me to stop. It was difficult to see, but there was just enough mixed in with the spit to color the grimy mess red.
"[Now, get on my back. When we get up there, wait on me.]"
I did. she took me up to the rooftop where the bodies were. The stilled expressions on their mutilated faces almost scared me a second time. Mom started tearing at the bodies. She broke limbs into more than two pieces with her teeth and paws, ripped bones out. Once finished, she divied the icky remains into two piles. She pointed at one of the piles, which had more bones ripped out, no naughty parts, and no heads, and was much smaller than the other. Probably because I couldn't eat as much as Mom. Just seeing all that body stuff and seeing it get ripped up, seeing stuff outside that should be inside, made me want to vomit, but I didn't. My wolf nose and eyes didn't mind so much.
"[Now, eat.]"
I sniffled. "[Mum...]"
"[Eat! NOW.]"
I ate. I slurped up intestines. I crunched the bones like really tough ice. I chewed sinew like the marble on meat. Then I noticed something among my pile: bowels. There were three. I nosed them away from the rest of the pile before I continued.
Mom must have noticed. "[That's for your mistake,]" she said.
"[Uh...what?]"
"[You got involved. Now we have to eat them. It happens sometimes, but this could have been avoided. When people are very, very mean to you, sometimes you have to eat them, when you can't run, or when they've seen you, and you always have to clean up after your mess. But they weren't mean to us. That's what makes this a bad mess.]"
"[They were hurting her! They hurt her REALLY bad--]"
"[And they could have killed her for all I care! Now EAT.]"
I went back to the bones first, pouting as I did and for the rest of my pile. I actually felt okay with bones, any bones. Still, I could chew the rest. The hearts, the liver, the lungs. But not the eyes. She left the eyes for me too, and the nose I bit off while the mean man was still alive. Probably because I didn't like the eye in the alley. It was raw, "good", but weird. It was like eating the rabbits; except, it was nothing like eating the rabbits. When we finished, she ordered me to lick again, watching as I did.
On our way back home, darting over rooftops and between shadows, Mom only said one thing to me, one thing she repeated to me and made me repeat just to be sure I listened and obeyed:
"[Don't tell your father.]"
"Run"
Carla had indeed heard about the Shack. Her father and Bigby went there one night and what was left of his meal, he gave to Carla. The air was coated with the smell of grease and fries. Her stomach was now growling and she was sure the people behind her could hear. Carla ordered a double with extra cheeses, mayo and mustard, lettuce and tomato only with the side of seasoned curly fries. Gren nearly had the whole menu on the lady's register: Two Triple Bypass with extra cheese and sauce, everything on it but no tomatoes with a side of regular fries and fried mushrooms. To top it all off, he had three chocolate milkshakes-two for him, one for Carla.
"You forgot to order a drink, silly," replied Gren, as he paid for the food. "Besides, with THESE burgers, you need a nice cold shake. Makes the meal even better."
When their food was ready, Carla and Gren took a seat in a table near the street. She wanted to watch the traffic and crowds of people making their way to the final destination. Gren thought that was silly; he hated this city and couldn't understand Carla's fascination with filth. She explained that it was like a treasure to her; yes, indeed the city could be filthy and destructive but it was also a perfect find to her. The towering buildings with the twinkling lights and the hustle of the citizens was always fun to watch. Gren continued listening to Carla's wild imagination take the reins. He rolled his eyes; this city was no treasure or anything to look forward to. He had no choice, just like she. He could recall a time when the only twinkling light were those above; sometimes, he missed the old world and the hidden gems it provided. A loud honking horn brought him back to reality. Carla was watching him.
"You okay there, Gren? You left me for awhile!"
Gren took a fry and dipped it into the ketchup.
"Yeah, Carla. I'm fine. Just thinking..."
Gren was such a mystery to Carla. For such a large creature, he didn't say much. He always kept to himself and Carla couldn't understand how a person could continue in this world alone. Even in the last couple of months, Gren preferred to be alone. He would call Carla every night, sure, but it was never the same; seeing the person's face and holding a conversation was always the better choice to her. But Carla never brought it up again, not after the incident that happened a month ago. She was careful since that night.
"Why do you hate the city so," asked Carla.
"Really, Carla? Can we just drop this silly topic. You KNOW how much this place disgusts me; filthy, no good place. Nothing good ever comes out of it...."
"You did...."
Her remark caught Gren off guard. Although he knew the Smiths very well, he was still careful; he was showing Carla bits of himself that no one had seen in years; parts of his bare soul, fears, wants that even the Trip Trap crew didn't know of. He didn't want everything on the table, however.He was loyal to her; like he was to the very few friends he did have. Gren knew Carla cared but that whole mindset was still there; she was a mundy, not a Folker or even a Fable. Despite her mixed blood, she was more mundy then anything; he grew to hate the mundies over the years and yet, he didn't have an ounce of hatred for Carla. Just fear. He just stared at Carla but realized in her eyes, even at that moment, she still cared.
"How is the food," Gren said. He wanted to change the subject and fast. He could feel the anger boiling to the surface. If this didn't go away soon, he would have to leave much sooner then he had planned.
"It's delicious," replied Carla. "I've had this before because of my dad. Oh man-sometimes there is nothing like a good burger."
Carla leaned in, fry in hand and dipped it into Gren's ketchup. He just starred and smiled. The sudden urge to flip this table over had passed; he could feel the calming sensation overcome his body. He knew it was safe to continue.
"So, how do you like working for the sheriff?"
"Its nice, actually. I file papers most of the time, answer phone calls. Boring things like that. Nothing exciting but if it opens up doors to other possibilities, then I will take it."
Gren looked confused. "Open doors?"
"Well, because I'm mundy. I remember my first day at the office. Bluebeard was there and was not pleased to see me, especially knowing I was the secretary replacement. Him and Snow were at it for what felt like days. She swore I wouldn't say a word or cause trouble. I mean, seriously Gren-who would believe me if I DID say something? 'Uh, yes hello sir. Did you know I work for the Big Bad Wolf and Snow White? Ah yes, and a green flying monkey as well?' They would throw me into an insane asylum!"
Gren laughed; it was true and perhaps that's why he couldn't hate her the way he felt about all other mundies. She was willing to cover all of this up. As they finished off their meal, Gren looked at his watch. It read 6:30. The sun was still high in the sky and slowly making its final appearance among the buildings. Gren was not ready to call it a night; he was sure Carla had the same idea, as he lookedup and found her grinning from ear to ear.
"Look, I'm ready for a cold one. You want to go to the Trip Trap?"
Carla gathered her items, thanked Gren and began walking down the street. Gren looked confused and was soon after her. Carla knew better then to go to the Trip Trap; although she and Woody got along just fine, her and Holly couldn't quite see eye to eye. Holly was always giving her a rough time. Why? Because she was a mundy; Holly did not like having them in her bar. Folkers were one thing; she made an exception for her father and sisters but never Carla. Last thing she needed was a fight with the bar troll; she would never win against that match.
"CARLA! Damnit, wait! What the hell was that?"
"Of all the fucking bars you could pick to drink-"
"Look! I've talked to Holly, ok! I told her you about your current situation and you have not said ONE word to anyone in regards to our world. Just come with me and have a couple of drinks, ok? And if she DOES give you bullshit, let me handle her. What do you say?"
Carla hesitated; she didn't want trouble with Holly tonight, especially after the last encounter she had with her. Carla knew when she crossed the line and was not wanted; the Trip Trap was not the only place she was not allowed. But when an opportunity came her direction and Gren gave her that cheesy smile, how could she say no? As the pair walked down the street, in the direction of the bar, Carla had only one thing on her mind: was she biting off WAY more than she could chew? Was she truly ready for this world?
She was ready this time, though. Ready to run.
.....Hope you aren't scared of the boogeyman...
Granted, I had to go look it up, but I remembered a sidequest in Oblivion involving a certain painter...
Chapter 4
"Room for one more"
NOTE: Another image of Carla and Gren. Sorry again for the quality.
Enjoy.
imgur.com/SsfnXwP
Carla never wanted trouble from the bar troll. She had nothing against Holly and assured her many times her actions would not cause trouble for those in Fabletown. Her mission was simple: Help. Now Carla was doubting her decision to take over what her sister and father were trying to accomplish all those years ago. Maybe this wasn't the right choice; a mundy in the Fable community was like walking around with a target on your back. Holly didn't believe Carla wanted to help, however. She was sure Carla would 'spill' their secrets to the mundy world; indeed, they would see her as mental and possibly put her away but some mundies didn't know when to quit. There would be a few searching for the answers. It was bad enough Snow and Bigby allowed her to work here; now, they had to worry if she would be their demise.
Carla was beginning to create excuses in her head as to WHY she was at the Trip Trap; sure, Gren was with her but that would add more fuel to te ever growing fire. Holly didn't like seeing Gren spend all his time with Carla. His once interest in Lyla was one thing; she was a Folker and although their worlds didn't like one another, she could over look it. Carla, however, was a mundy and Holly did not see that relationship a possibility. They would have more people following them then they did for her sister; the Council, the Mayor of Fabletown, even her beloved Business office would have to document EVERY move she made. And if they DID have children, there was a good chance they would be sent to the Farm; both Carla and Gren couldn't do a thing unless the child was glamoured.
Before she could back out and turn around, the two of them were standing before the bar. Carla could feel her heart trying to escape her chest; the thudding and fast pace was making her head spin and all she wanted to do was hide. Gren noticed the color of her face lightning up. He reached over, grabbed both her shoulder and gave them a tight squeeze.
"Don't worry," Gren whispered into Carla's ear. "You will be just fine. I'm here, remember? If she gives you shit, just let me handle her."
"That's the problem," Carla replied, as she moved from Gren's grip. "Yes, you are here with me and I appreciate that. Honestly, I do. But I don't want this to be the only way to settle this silly little feud between Holly and I!"
Gren grabbed her hands and held them in his. Carla looked down; his hands were so much larger compared to her own. They nestled nicely into his palms when they held hands. The texture was rough against her soft skin. She liked the feel of it, though. Never bothered her.
"You running won't help, either," said Gren with a smile. "You AND Holly need to get over all of this silly bullshit. Holly is so fucking full of shit sometimes, God love her. Don't worry about it, Carla."
Something in his answer managed to calm her nerves; Carla looked all around her for some excuse to just run. But all she found was Gren. Maybe he was right-they would have to put this silly fight to rest. So, Gren led the way and into the bar she walked; the sound of the final nail being put into her coffin.
Gren and Carla walked into the bar; the music playing softly, Jack and Woody drinking while playing darts. They looked up and smiled when they noticed the two; Holly was nowhere to be seen. Carla automatically assumed she was in the back either stocking or avoiding Gren. This was the usual time her came in for a drink. Since holly found out Gren and Carla were 'seeing' each other, she seemed to find any excuse to avoid him. maybe it was just coincidence. Jack started making his way to Gren, handed him a bottle and gave him a punch in the arm.
"Hey, look who it is," said Jack. "Man, didn't think you would be here tonight, Gren. Hey, Carla! Finally thought it was safe to show your face, huh? Pretty brave for a mundy; in a room full of creatures that would tear your head off in an instant-"
Carla knew he wasn't lying. If they really wanted to, they could dispose their glamoured looks and kill her on the spot. She watched Gren grab one off the pool sticks and swing it against jack's head, knocking the trickster to the ground; his drink and several darts to follow. He threw the stick to the side and motioned for Carla to follow.
"Gees, Gren," yelled Jack. "What was that? I was just kiddin' around with her. She knows it was a joke, right Carla? Tell him this is how we always kid around-"
"It's not funny, Jack," said Woody. "She's on edge as it is around this place. Stop giving her such a hard time. It's nice to see you, Carla. wish you would come around more often..."
"You just said the reason, Woody," replied Carla, as she took a seat next to Gren. "I wish Holly would just..."
Just as she spoke, the back door opened. Her heart stopped for that very moment. Carla wanted to just run out the door, down the dark streets and back to the Pudding & Pie; she wanted to hide and pretend like she was never there. Before she could fully make a decision, Holly stood there. Her face said it all; she appeared disgusted, annoyed and swore if she could, reach over and end it all. She slowly walked over until she was standing in front of Carla; Gren's hand found her own and he quickly grabbed it. Carla wondered if Gren could feel or hear her heartbeat.
"What are you doing here, Carla," asked Holly. "You know the rules..."
"Relax, Holly," said gren. She's here for a drink. That's it. Why don't you calm the fuck down, alright?"
"She KNOWS how I feel about her being here, Gren. Why don't you keep your motherfucking mouth shut and let me handle this. This is MY bar after all."
Jack and Woody were now at the dar; Jack was too busy rubbing the back of his head to care about Carla's problems.
"Holly, you let Lyla and John in here," said Woody. "I mean, they are no different. She may be a mundy but she's known about us since she was a little girl. For heaven sakes, I would tell her stories about the homelands, the story of me and Bigby, the-"
Holly slammed the Whiskey bottle down, causing Carla to jump. She was prepared. For what, she had no idea just yet. But Gren's sudden change in eye color knew it was bad; his glamour was fading fast. She suddenly heard a low growl escaping his mouth.
"Holly, relax, okay? Carla has not or WILL NOT say a word. She has been around us just as long as her sisters; anyone of them could spill our secrets. Its a chance we take but nothing has happened. Will you just stop-"
"I'm sick of taking chances, Gren," said Holly. "I'm tired of waiting to see what's going to happen next. Carla may have won the hearts of the Sheriff and Whit, maybe even Cole but not me. Mundies stay with mundies-end of story; nothing more, nothing less. I can't understand your fascination with her, anyways."
Gren took back what was left in his glass and slammed it back down. He stood up and got in Holly's face; Carla was up and had moved to the side. Jack and Woody watched on; Jack was quietly taunting them both, hoping for an all out battle to take place in the Trip Trap. If it didn't involve his life, he found it as 'entertainment.'
"Watch what the fuck you say...you've been pissing me off lately, Holly..."
"YOU of all people have no right to speak, Gren. YOU felt the same way. She shows you SOME attention and suddenly everything is okay and we are nothing but rainbows and fucking sunshine! Remember the reason why we are in this shit hole, Gren...."
Gren didn't say a word. He stood there in silence. Carla was waiting for hi to say anything to break the silence.
"I'm sorry, Gren," said Holly. "I'm sorry to do this to either of you. You're a sweet girl, Carla; really, you and your family have been nothing but sweet. Lyla and Georgie have opened up so many doors and those little babies are a joy to be around. But, mundies and Fables....we just can't-"
"I get it Holly," Carla said. "I do. Sorry. This was a mistake. See you around. Bye, Gren."
Carla turned around and walked out the door; Gren was soon on her trail, trying to keep up. Woody and Jack looked over at Holly, who was now cleaning the counter. She didn't say a word, as Woody left and Jack continued drinking.
"Man, Holly. That was harsh. Poor Carla. As she want's to do is-"
"Shut the fuck up, Jack. You don't know...."
Holly continued cleaning the counters. She had her reasons; Carla's family had their own.
Carla was half way home before Gren finally caught up; although she was in heels, when Carla was in desperate need to go home, she would in a flash. Gren grabbed her arm just as she turned the corner; the infamous pink neon lights of the Pudding & Pie ahead of them. She turned around and saw him. Carla couldn't stay mad at him; he didn't do a damn thing to her.
"Carla-"
"I'm sorry for running out there like that, Gren. I told you, though. I...I told you, its not worth it. She doesn't want me there..."
"Well, that's going to have to fucking stop, Carla. You didn't do a damn thing-"
"Yes. But not too long ago, you felt the same thing about both Folkers AND Mundies. Remember?"
Gren did. He remembered all too well. Carla grabbed his hand and gave him a slight kiss on the cheek.
"I have to go, Gren. I have to be at the office early. But, I would love if you came by. See you later..."
Carla released her hold on gren's hand and walked away. She had to pretend this wasn't bothering her; she couldn't let it get to her. She couldn't blame Holly, blame anyone because she could recall disliking Gren because of that very thing-his hate for mundies. Now, he was standing behind her. Gren watched her walk into the club but not before turning back and waving.
He continued standing there. Fucking mundies, he thought as he smiled.
Cute picture. I also can't wait to see where this goes. I can see Carla is going to have a lot more problems than Lyla. I loved it! Can't wait to read more. seems like Gren is on Carla's side. Good.
Thanks. Yeah, her road will be rough. We are only getting started. Thanks to you and everyone enjoying it.
Loved it "Tezoth's arms became limp with restlessness" I like it crazy like mine
Awesome
Dragon I'm Just saying I'll be uploading part 4 the final piece of my story in next couple of days don't close competition yet please
I won't, dude. I still need to work on the list a little bit more, in order to make sure that I'm fair about it and that I will try to list everyone. I think all of you will like it, I'm really excited to share when the 'award ceremony' comes.
It's not really death for the evil as much as it's Tod not really understanding what he just did. He knows he's stronger than normal adults, his mom even explained that to him once. Tod has a Feeling personality and a mean streak inside him, but he just didn't yet have that thing that clicks in your mind to let you know the difference, between making sure someone doesn't do something again, and going too far. Or at least it didn't click in that moment.
I added brackets to show a different language being used, starting with when Tod's mom enters the story, and edited in that we were speaking in Scottish-Gaelic(it just says "Scottish", but I really mean the Gaelic dialect).
Chapter 5
"Truth hurts"
Carla opened the door to the Pudding & Pie; it was quiet and the only light she noticed was coming from down the hall. She closed the door behind her, hung up her coat and walked down the hall. As she reached the end, she noticed Mary and Henry at the bar; he was cleaning up while her sister nursed a bottle of Whiskey. Carla rolled her eyes and headed to them; Mary sure was drinking an awful lot again. Carla took a seat next to her sister. Mary never stirred.
"Hey, Carla," said Henry, as he continued wiping down the counter. "Do you want anything to drink? Can't guarantee it will be anything you like but I can try."
"No thank you, Henry," replied Carla. "I just want to sit here and talk to Mary..."
Carla noticed the vacant look in her sister's eyes; she looked tired and weak, like she had not seen a good night's rest in days. She watched as Mary placed the bottle to her lips, take a long swig and slam the bottle back down. This caused Carla to jump in surprise. Mary looked over at her sister. God, thought Carla. You look awful.
"Go ahead, sis. Talk."
Mary began finishing her drink; Henry continued cleaning the bar, although he too, wanted to know what was going on. Carla noticed Henry stop time to time to 'clean' an area around Mary; he wiped that spot over ten times that Carla had counted.
"What is up, Mary," said Carla. "You look so tired. If this is not for you, maybe you should-"
"It's fine, Carla," mumbled Mary. "It has nothing to do with this fucking job. This is life, Carla. Suppose you wouldn't understand that, though."
Carla was confused by her remark; what did she mean by that?
"Mary. Look, if Bluebeard is causing you problems, maybe dad can-"
Mary looked over at Carla. She couldn't remember the last time seeing Mary so burnt out; the flame and life in her once meadow green eyes were pathetic and sad now.
"Don't worry bout my troubles, Carla. Maybe you should worry about yourself for once instead. Where were you tonight? You came home late..."
Carla was trapped against a corner; she loved Mary but she wasn't hesitant to get anything out of you, especially if it benefited her situation. She already had an idea of the topic she wanted to discuss; Carla was not in the mood to fight with her about Gren tonight. Not like she had enough people talking down to her like some child. Still, Carla carried on.
"What do you mean, Mary," asked Carla. "I was at work-"
"Pssh. Snow doesn't keep people THAT late, especially a 'mundy' like yourself; yeah, I heard they have restrictions on where you can go in your OWN work place! Bigby told me; he was here about an hour ago to visit the quads and have Lyla and Georgie sign more papers. So, that I KNOW is a lie. You were with him again, weren't you..."
"I went and had a few drinks, Mary," Carla said with anger in her voice. "I went and had some food and went to have drinks. I'm not a child, Mary. I can do whatever the fuck I want! Who are you to-"
"He's a FABLE, Carla-YOU ARE A MUNDY! This is the bullshit dad and mom tried to warn us about! They had nothing but trouble; they STILL do and we are not kids anymore, Carla!"
"There is not a whole lot going on, Mary! We are friends-"
"Fucking bullshit, Carla! Stop the lying! I SEE how he looks at you; how you two are around one another. He'd follow you all over this fucking city if he could! You're asking for trouble!"
"Fuck off, Mary. Since when do YOU care! All you do is go by the book; follow the Council like they are God and everything they say is true! They are good people, Mary! You've been around Bigby AND Snow since we were kids, remember? Dad left the Council for a reason-"
"WE belong to the Council, Carla. The only reason WHY I'm HELPING the fucking Fables is because our dear sweet, little sister couldn't keep her damn legs closed and thanks to that, she and Georgie God damn fucking Porgie, have halfer babies and now ALL THESE OTHER FUCKERS want my help because of her!"
"You're a monster, Mary! How dare you! She is family, OUR blood! Those babies-"
Mary looked over at Carla and smiled.
"Monster? Oh I'll show you monster....since you LOVE them so much...."
"Mary...."
Mary finished her drink and threw the glass down; there was a slight crack on the side and Henry ran over to gather it before it shattered. Last thing he needed was to miss a shard and one of the babies finds it. Georgie would have his head on a silver platter and his nut sack feed to the dogs. She walked over to Carla, who was now trying to avoid her sister. Since Mary discovered her inner wolf side, it was dangerous; it was like waking a sleeping bear that was hibernating for so long. You were not sure what the reaction would be.
"Shut the fuck up, Carla! I'm not stupid! I Know you were out with HIM tonight! You fucking want trouble, huh? You think all of this is a fucking joke to you?! We have been at war for centuries with the Fables, with our OWN kind because of this halfer fucking bullshit! You KNOW the rules! Fuck, Carla! You saw what happened with our sister and Georgie-they DOCUMENT you like a possession, follow you around and nearly destroy your life! Fuck, Carla! And Georgie was the HUMAN Fable; Gren is not! Do you see he NEEDS a glamour, just to walk out those fucking doors!"
Mary's eyes were suddenly a dark yellow; Carla could see the claws coming through, the growls in her throat and the fur slowly appearing all over her arms. Henry rushed beside her; he was prepared to take a bullet for Carla. She was mundy; he however, was wolf and couldn't risk Mary trying to take down Carla. Without meaning to, she could easily kill Carla.
"Mary, please! What has gotten into you? You HELP those poor Fables! What are you suddenly so against this? I thought-"
Mary lifted up one of the stools and tossed it at Carla. She managed to dodge it; a piece of wood, however, was now lodged into her arm. The pain was burning all up and down. Carla tried to remove it but it was too much. she was not a titan like her father and sisters; like always, she was weak like all mundies were. Carla slide under the table and popped up on the other side.
"Mary! Stop! You're going to wake everyone up! Just, stop and calm down! We can talk about this-"
"Your life will be ruined," roared Mary. "If you two have a child, they will take it away for sure unless you glamoured it! He's a fucking Grendel, Carla; YOU are a mundy! Stick to your own kind! Avoid all the troubles dad had, Lyla has....Gina...not you, Carla! You can't-"
There was concern in Mary's eyes the entire time she spoke; hurt filling the sentences and anguish ending them. Carla knew what kind of a risk she was taking; her sister did mate with a Fable and produce Halfer children but Georgie's appearance was human. He could easily walk out those doors and no one would think twice. Gren, however, was not; in reality, he was a monster that needed to be hidden. If they did have children, there was a 97% chance the offspring would be that-monsters. They would have to get them all glamours or the Farm would be their demise. She was mundy and a titan with such strength could easily kill her; Gren didn't exactly have the best temper. He was a giant with a short fuse. Before Carla could speak, Mary came to a hault. Mary let out one more roar before she stumbled to the ground. Carla looked up. There, standing on the stairs, was Georgie. Lyla ran down and grabbed Carla.
"Oh my God, Carla," said Lyla. "What the fuck happened? What is this?"
They both looked over and found Hans and a wolfed-out Henry lifting Mary and placing her carefully on the couch. Several tranquilizers stuck out from behind her. Georgie walked over to Lyla, still trying to comfort Carla. She was shaking uncontrollably; she had never seen Mary in that form before.
"You alright, Carla," asked Georgie.
Carla was still getting used to the 'new' Georgie; it would take awhile before she could fully trust him. For now, she did because of Lyla and the babies. She took a seat with Lyla, still trying to understand what took place.
"Carla...."
"I'm fine, Georgie. Thank you...."
Georgie gave her a pat on the shoulder and walked over to Hans and Henry.
"Lyla. I'm sorry. Did the babies-"
"They are fine," chuckled Lyla. "They ARE half Georgie; that man could sleep through this place crumbling to the ground. Now that-what was this all about? Mary has never done this before...."
Carla looked over at Mary, who was slumped over the couch. It would be awhile before she came to; Lyla continued watching her, waiting for an answer. But Carla had none; she had no idea on what to say. All she knew was this-who were the REAL monsters in this situation?
Oh wow. 0.0 I understand now why there is so much tension. It does not seem fair, though to Carla. I get it-Georgie's appearance is human and Gren's is that of well, a Grendel! lol I also understand. She is a mundy in a Fable world. I can see why her sister and father are worried. Sry, look at me ramble on! This is just so much fun to read and the characters and rules and such that you have created is brilliant! I bet you were the one's always getting A's in English class, huh? Sry again for the rambles! Keep up the good work, Pie! Can't wait to read more! Hopefully everything will work out but obviously, that won't happen just yet.
Here of some pics to get an idea what the characters of my story would look like.
The Heroes
Draco the Dragon:
Viera the Phoenix:
Wolven the Wolf
Marco the Vampire:
Irene the Fairy:
New characters and Villians.
Mett' the King Wendigo (Brother of the Wendigo that Wolven killed during the fight with Aizaax.)
The Boogeyman...:
Gillian the Weretiger:
Have big plans for my next story, not going to spoil it though
Enjoy
I always love when there are pictures to faces! Now when you read the story, you can see it in your mind. Can't wait!
That boogeyman is creepy awesome pics can't wait to see it
Are you still going to post the 4th part of your story, Mark?
Yeah im finished now be up in the next hour just editing out mistakes now