Start a Story, be your own Fable. (Create a Fable Thread)

JonesJ · June 2014

Hopefully his plan will work. This is getting good! More!!!!

MasterStone · June 2014

Sorry, Boogey wont be fighting this chapter. :x

Chapter 4

Revelation

11 o'clock at night, Draco and Viera are coming from the movies. Draco get's a call on his cellular device and he answers it. It's Irene, who sounds scared and afraid.

Draco: Whoa, calm down Irene. What's wrong?

Irene: IT'S MARCO! HE'S IN DANGER I THINK SOMEONE KIDNAPPED HIM!

Draco: What? How do you know for sure? Just calm down...

*Irene: *I'm sorry it's just.. there was so much blood and he left his necklace which he never let's out of his sight and this strange man just came by my house and left this note. It says "We have your friend, dragon. He's alive for now but if you keep us waiting we'll skin him. Come to the La Lucha alone."

Draco: No...not this again... Irene listen, Viera is on here way over, Im going after them.

Irene: WAIT, it could be a trap. You don't know what is waiting for you there-

Draco: It's always a trap.... Don't worry I will find these people and I WILL get Marco back. Nothing's going to stop me.

Irene: That's what Marco said, now look where we are at....

Draco hangs up and look's at Viera and nod's and the two go their ways.

Meanwhile just as Wolven is about to leave Fabletown, he is pulled and thrown into a dark garage by an unseen force. He gets up and looks around to see what it was..

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*Wolven: *What the hell...

ROOOARRR! as the beastly figure leaped out of the darkness.

Wolven: Another wendigo.. here?

Mett: That's king wendigo to you, you murdererous hell hound.

Wolven: Don't contradict yourself, your kind has killed more than any wolf for centuries.

Mett: It's not about that, this is about my younger brother. Who you slain.

Wolven: What?

Mett: LOOK AT THE PICTURE! LOOK AT HIM.

Wolven: But that's a child! I would never...

Mett': Yes you would.. You tore him to pieces, like a sheep. You are more of a monster than me.

Wolven: Listen I would never harm a chil--

Mett' then grabs Wolven and throws him against the wall. Wolvens coughs up blood and tries to get to cover.

Mett': COME OUT YOU FILTHY HELL HOUND AND FACE ME. YOU COWARD!

Wolven pops his arm back in place and gets up. His eyes glowed yellow and he tore off his shirt and transformed into his full wolf form.

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Mett': There you are....

Wolven: Mett' please, listen the wendigo I killed was no child.

*Mett': *YOU LIE! YOU TORE HIM TO PIECES! YOU MURDERED MY BROTHER AND NOW I WILL CLEAN MY CLAWS WITH YOUR FLESH!

Mett' claws at Wolven which he avoids and manages to bite and hold onto Mett's neck. He tries to force Mett' to the ground but is thrown away.Suddenly, the wound on Mett's neck heals and the sound of Booegy's voices echoes through his head.

"Everyone report back to the office immediately, it's time to prepare for phase 2..."

Mett looks at Wolven and says in a calm voice "This isn't over wolf...far from over." and then prepares to leave the garage.

Wolven: Wait... the wendigo i killed was fully matured it wasn't a child and it's fur was brown. The picture you showed me.. was a black fured colored wendigo. If you don't believe me... look into my mind.

Mett' gazed through Wolvens mind for a brief moment, he saw the fight between Wolven and the wendigo. It wasn't his brother.... A look of sorrow and relief appeared on his face. He muttered to himself, "He lied to me... that demon lied.."

Wolven: Mett' wait.

The enrages wendigo king storms out into the streets and climbs to the rooftops and yell's out "BOOOOOOOOOOGEYYYMANNN"

From a distance Boogey hears Mett's voice. He turns to the window and smiles evilly...

To be continued

XxTheHungerGamerxX · June 2014

keep going... i like the start of this story..

pudding_pie · June 2014

Chapter 15

"...To erase all the bad doings..."

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'They always say time changes things but you actually have to change them yourself.'
-Andy Warhol

Carla sat in her seat; Snow and Bigby were trying to separate John and Gren. The two had been at each other's throats since they arrived. Bufkin flew above, swooped down and took a seat next to Carla. He tried to assure her things would be alright but when Carla noticed Bigby rubbing his temple, she knew that was out the window.

"Fuck," shrieked John. 'She's my fucking daughter, Gren! How DARE you put her in these situations she can't handle!"

"Can't handle," shouted Gren, pushing John into a desk. "She's capable of handling a lot of things, John! You don't give her the chance to fight her battles!"

"She does not need this bullshit from you, barfly! What do you know?"

"Oooh! And you know SO much, John! Having the fucking Council fight your battles! We didn't break any rules, you jerk! What is the big deal?"

Gren swung at John and nearly missed. Bigby grabbed Gren and pushed him back; he was having a hard time deciding who needed to be punched to the floor.

"Relax," bellowed Bigby. "Just, calm down! The both of you! You know the rules, Gren-"

"And there is you," snickered Gren. "When your reputation is on the line, you step in! When I NEED you, I can never find your support! You want to help me? Tell your fucking guard dog to relax and go dig a hole!"

Snow, still having a hard time understanding their outbursts, walked over to Carla. Bufkin was trying his best to relax Carla; in her right hand, she currently was squeezing a stress ball. Snow watched Carla's fingers dig deep into the material.

"Carla," said Snow gently. "I'm sure you know what I'm going to ask you. But I'm going to need your full cooperation and focus, okay?"

"Where do I sign," replied Carla, tossing the ball to the side.

"Carla-"

"Look, Snow. Not to sound disrespectful but you have no idea how much I want to reach over and smack you; fucking beat the shit out of all of you! There, are more important things to worry about in Fabletown, then a simple mundy seeing a Fable! Gren and I, have done NOTHING wrong! We work, pay taxes, have a few drinks now and then! He's glamoured; I have not said a PEEP about this place but we are still being sentenced to life of signing this and copy that?"

Snow looked at Carla stunned; her reaction was so abrupt and sudden. Carla sighed and walked away. She needed to get out of this place for a bit. She went to the back of the book cases. Although she was not allowed there, what other place did she have? Between the cracks of the shelves, she watched her father and Gren continue to brawl; Snow and Bigby still trying to stop them. Carla found a seat and took it. Her head was throbbing; she thought this was ridiculous and petty. Bufkin found her sitting; her chin resting in her palms, eyes starring into space. He flew until he managed to land on her shoulder.

"Oh, hey Bufkin," Carla replied. "Don't mind me. Need alone time..."

"I can't say I don't blame you, Miss Smith," said Bufkin, while stroking her cheek. "I too, am about to throw something at those two. Remind me off alley cats; both hissing, circling around one another. do not know when enough is enough."

"I don't get it, Bufkin. Why does it matter so much? Folkers and Fables are pretty much similar! We can't let the mundy know we exist; we have to hide and pretend."

"True, Miss Smith. But unfortunately, we are not similar. Eventually, Folkers grow old and die; we do, at times but a majority of us are immortal. When Folker and Fable blood combine, they create very unique offspring, like your sister, Lyla. She and Georgie mated, thus created the quads; two of them have powers that come with the territory of breeding with the opposite. Child bearing is a job in itself, Carla; a woman is giving life, which in reality, takes a toll on her body. Someone, like a mundy for example, can only handle so much pain. So, an Ogre, Giant or um, a Grendel baby, will cause significant damage to the body."

"Okay, you're right! But Dr. Swineheart said-"

"Swineheart is indeed a very trusted physician. But even he wouldn't recommend it. I've heard about mundies and Fables creating children together but usually half of them either die during or after child birth; the shock and trauma to the body is simply too much for them. Then, the children become ill or something happens and then, they usually..."

Bufkin looked at Carla. She was trying very hard to hold back the tears.

"I'm sorry, Carla. There are reasons WHY you and Gren can't-"

"I don't care, Bufkin...."

Suddenly, they both were startled by the office doors swinging open and slamming into the wall. Carla and Bufkin made there way to the front; Snow and Bibgy on one side, Gren and her father on the other. In the middle stood her mother; Nancy was disgusted in the sight she saw, the condition everyone was in. She walked over to John and slapped him across the head. Taken back, John simply stood there stunned.

"You," hissed Nancy. "How DARE you! What has happened to you, John? What has gotten into that thick skull of your's?"

She slapped John again. Nancy was never pleased with how the Council ran things; as far as she was concerned, if it didn't bother her or the family, it was not a threat. Her daughters loving a different 'species' was nothing new; she saw herself in her girls. John was so quick to forget; they too, had to deal with these problems.

"Look at that poor man over there, sheriff," said Nancy, pointing her finger towards Gren. "He has done nothing wrong in my eyes! So what my daughter is a Folker, a Halfer, a god damn mundy?! What ever the hell you categorize her as!"

"You know the rules," said Bigby. "Nancy, there is nothing we can do. They-"

"Oh, NOW you want to help, sheriff," said Gren. "You want to help? Help me AND Carla in this situation! We need your protection, Bigby!"

"Bigby, please," said Nancy. "Please. I KNOW you think this is silly. These 'rules' are nothing more then a method of control and you know it! You people harass Lyla and Georgie twenty-four seven! And now Carla! How many more of our daughters will it take before you see how stupid this is, John?"

John hung his head; he knew Nancy was right. He glanced at Carla, who was now in the arms of Gren. He watched him pull Carla close; she was examining the ring on her finger, while he kissed her forehead.

"And John," continued Nancy. "Do you not remember when you and I began dating? The Council told you it would never last; they too, had these silly rules. Paper, after paper, after paper! Then the girls came; that alone was a circus. You were a wolf in his mid twenties when I met you; a wolf that didn't even know what the meaning of 'rules' were. My parents knew nothing of your world; even at their death bed, I still held it inside. I wished to this day they knew, John. Our daughters grew up thinking this-THIS WORLD-was terrible and should never be spoken of! But you..."

Nancy trailed off when she looked at her daughter.

"...YOU and Bigby became friends. Your worlds never interfered with that. You left your position from the Council to work here! They were wrong, John; so are you, sweetie. Do you see Carla? She looks at Gren, the same way I STILL look at you..."

John looked at the papers currently on Snow's desk. He gave a nod to Bigby. He walked over, grabbed them and handed the stack to John. John quickly tore them in half and tossed them into the trash bin. Carla's heart skipped a beat; the biggest smile on her face. John was waiting for Snow . waited for her remarks and comments about his doing. She never said a word; simply stood by Bigby and smiled. Nancy slipped her arms around John and hugged him tightly.

"Our daughters deserve the same happiness, John," said Nancy, planting a kiss on his cheek. "She's in love with him, Folker or not, it should not matter."

For now, it wouldn't. John knew in reality, he couldn't ignore hundreds of years worth of rules. The Council would find out; how, he was not sure yet. But they were all prepared.

What is meant to be, will always find a way. Gren thought those words were meaningless; they did not apply to him at all. But he was wrong.

She was currently standing beside him, grasping tightly to his hand.

JonesJ · June 2014

That was beautiful. Nancy, you go girl!

Those are some fine pictures too, btw pudding! Great job. More!!

pudding_pie · June 2014

Thanks dude. Nancy is the 'back bone' to John. I enjoy creating pictures for my story. Gives the reader an idea on HOW the character looks. Glad you and everyone seem to be enjoying it.

LupineNoir · June 2014

I agree with Jones, your pictures really get personalities across.

I don't know how you keep going at such a rate and keep it all so tight. Great work!

LupineNoir · June 2014

That's evil, right there. I thought this was a nicely written piece

LupineNoir · June 2014

Words! There are quite a few below these that you're reading, so I'm going to comment on it all at the end.

Rain pounds hard,

Blood mixes with water.

Is that the twitch of life,

Or be they the throes of death?

*

An early morning sun rises in the sky, it's intense focus removing the cloud and showing a pastel blue above. Miss Snow White sits at her desk with the gruff Sheriff Bigby Wolf opposite her.
"I hate this town and I hate this job," he informs her directly.

Mentally, Miss White sighs a most tired sigh, yet externally she has the gift of an infallible mask of expression. "You're more than welcome to return to the Homelands."

"That's not what I mean," is his impatient response. "I mean: why on this Mundy Earth did you think that this would be a good idea?"

"To have you as Sheriff?"

A single, swift nod in response.

"Because you're the Bid Bad Wolf; people are more likely to step into line with you around."

 "No one seems to particularly give a toss about what I think, and the Mundies are a real pain in the backside!"

"Look!" Miss White has swiftly grown weary of this conversation. "You've only been here a week! What could possibly be so bad?"

Fabletown, Circa. mid 1600s

"Everything and everyone smells, for starters," is Bigby Wolf's response.

"And what am I supposed to do about that?" Retorts Snow White.

"Nothing - I just have to smoke like a chimney to cover it all up."

The New World - the place for any and all looking for a fresh start to come and carve out a new life; and not exclusively for the Mundies. Only a year and two months have passed since the Exodus from the Homelands, and upon the anniversary of that flight from the tyranny of the Adversary a group of Fables announced - only to others of their kind, of course - that within the yet growing city of New Amsterdam, an enclave of Fables and a place of government would be established.

Located to the north-west of the island and just outside of the city walls, a discreetly sized building was to be erected that would serve as the focal point for this newly founded district, the district of Fabletown. 'The Woodlands' was the agreed upon name for the finished construction, though not before other titles had been suggested, such as one which a certain blonde-haired joker put forward: 'Jack's Mighty Palace of the Giant Slayer'. Another long-winded, though surprisingly less serious proposal, had been overheard by an unsuspecting Mundy, who later reported the incident of one pig assenting to another that the suggestion of 'Try blowing this down, you damn wolf' was a 'highly amusing one'.
Said Mundy was later accused of blatant drunkenness.

It is within that finished wooden construction - not be the last building to be known as 'The Woodlands' - that Miss Snow White and Sheriff Bigby Wolf are currently conversing.
To an enchanted office of far larger proportions than anyone could guess from street level; of a simple design - and yet containing items that would be improbable to guess at any level - Bigby Wolf has been summoned to discuss local business. He wears a long, green woollen overcoat, under which is a pale shirt of the same material, and brown breeches down to his shins; these are as profusely itchy as they sound. The remainder of his legs are covered by patched up socks. His feet are placed in mud-encrusted shoes, and to finish off there is a pale red scarf jauntily tied around his neck. The appearance of having gone a few days without a shave is as present as it will be for the next few hundreds of years, and his fur-brown hair is tied in a ponytail at the back of his head.

As if the designation of his clothes were not enough to signify him as something of a hard labourer, endeavouring on an ungrateful task, the distinction between Mr Wolf's attire and Miss White's would surely do so; for here is the look of a woman with means. A corseted cream dress with white frilling around the cuffs and chest; handcrafted shoes made of fine leather, with a mahogany curved heel; a delicate forget-me-not coloured ribbon around her neck; and silk-like black hair with two lavish curls on either side of her head, finished with an icy-blue bow fastened near the end of a strand. More elegant garments she has, being a princess, however her work is never graced by the presence of them.

"I didn't invite you here just to bear witness to the misgivings about your job, Mister Wolf, and considering that you accepted the role of Sheriff as opposed to roaming the wilds, I will presume that this is just - how shall I put it - teething pains." She affects a polite, yet entirely false smile at the end of her final sentiment. Mr Wolf notices, retains a sour demeanour, and merely shuffles in his chair.

"I asked for you here today to inform you of a specific task -"

"I'm not some dogsbody, if you'll pardon the pun," is the statement Mr Wolf interrupts with.

"Yes, I recognise that. Still-" 

"And since when are you in charge? I thought it was Cole who gave the orders around here," comes yet another interruption to Miss White's speech. She gives the Sheriff a stern look and responds with:

 "Firstly, King Cole is the Mayor and therefore in charge. I am merely working as something of an..." the speaker finds it embarrassing to admit that she's an "...assistant, at the moment." There is no verbal interjection this time, however an amused eyebrow is arched and an ill-concealed grin is shown on the face of the usual suspect.

"Secondly, this would all go so much more easily, smoothly, conveniently, and any other similar adjectives you can think of, if you would just - be - quiet."

At this point Bigby admits to himself, not without some resentment, that he feels a touch put in his place, and concedes that all might be simpler if he did kept quiet. Afterall, he could easily go back to 'roaming the wilds' if he really wished to; it was a peculiar curiosity that kept him in Fabletown. Could this really work, living alongside the Mundies? Or rather, under their nose?

After the moments silence comprised of Bigby's internal considerations, Miss White concludes that he will no longer be a nuisance, at least for the time being. She brushes out a crease in her skirt, and says "I will begin again. I asked for you to come here this morning as I have a specific task for you. Are you familiar with Jeremiah Hound?"

Bigby's memory begins rummaging through all the names it knows, and comes up with a blank conclusion.

"Can't say as I do," he admitts.

"Does 'Rag-and-Bone Man' set any bells ringing?"

"Hmm." It does set a bell ringing - a very small bell hidden in the depths of a symbolic pile of leaves, representing many a night spent prowling - and Bigby's memory happily picks it up and starts waving it around. "Is he the one who comes at night to help you get to sleep?" 

"No." A very snippy negative statement from Snow White. "That's the Sandman."

"Oh, I see." Mr Wolf's memory effectively kicks the pile of leaves and then catapults the bell into the branches of a nearby tree.

"Let me give you a bit of background."

"I'm all ears, Miss White."

Snow straightens her back against the padded chair in which she sits; places her elbows on it's smooth wooden arms and puts her hands together, getting herself comfortable to relate the tale. A sip of water, she decides, would be most agreeable to give her the appropriate throat lubrication, and so a sip of water from a clear glass - which has been sat on her desk without any attention until now - is called into action. Thus contented, Miss Snow White begins.

"The Rag-and-Bone Man first became of particular note about a hundred or so years ago; obviously we had been aware of him for centuries, however the Mundies had only just found themselves in a position where the idea of him was useful. The beginnings of social mobility, the chance to own shops, a different sort of power on the rise, that sort of thing. And before you ask -" Miss White hurriedly said as the Sheriff looks set to ask a question "- I know these things because I've bothered to research who it is we're now living among. I advise you to do the same, Mister Wolf." Bigby chastises himself for ever having contemplated interrupting, after now been given Miss White's advise; which was invariably that and always a politely dressed command.

"As the Mundies wrote and spoke more of him, many among their number started imitating him. Men - due to the women having to look after the children, the house, and pretty much keeping everything running - would make their way around the streets of towns and cities, buying and selling old clothes, furniture; things of that nature. The 'rag' signifier pertains to the clothes, and the 'bones' to the literal bones collected in order to be boiled down for glue, and then used on the furniture."

"Are you following, Mister Wolf?" is asked when the Sheriff's eyes seem to start glazing over.

"I'm hooked on your every word, Snow," comes the straight reply.

"Let's keep it to 'Miss White', shall we?" Another smile of pretence flashes in an instant upon the lady's features. Mr Wolf simply shrugs.

Snow White resumes. "That's the Mundy side to it. Going back to what I mentioned earlier, as the notion of the rag-and-bone man grew more popular with them, so did the Rag-and-Bone Man in the Homelands become more influential. He acquired a moderate amount of wealth, bought himself a country home, lived in relative ease for a while. Especially when compared to the times in his past. Grovelling for items and a life of great solitude were taking a toll on him.

"Then came the Adversary, the Exodus, and that brings us more or less up to today. Currently he resides inside the city walls of New Amsterdam - seems he's still doing alright for himself. We need you to pay him a visit."

The senses of a wolf for reading body language are particularly acute, and this wolf senses that Snow White had started to enter upon a subject she finds unpleasant. "What for?" He enquires with a lurking suspicion.

Miss White is, indeed, uneasy. "There is no easy way to discuss this so I'm just going to come straight out with it."
Mr Wolf is quite unsure of what to expect.

"We need someone to remove the dead Fables."

"Dead Fables?" The Sheriff's brow knits together forming great ridges upon his forehead.

"Yes. There are occasional refugees coming through the Oak Hollows gate from the Homelands. I'm sorry to say, Mister Wolf, that not all are surviving the injuries they bring with them."

"What about the Mundies and their beliefs in them? I thought that's what kept most of us going."

"It's true that the likes of you and me, who are still regularly read and spoken about, could withstand some damage and recover with relative ease. However the world for many Mundies is changing with, what with them moving around the globe; some cultures expanding whilst others are unfortunately left to shrink. The fact that our health relies on the Mundies is a most regrettable fact, yet it is a fact nonetheless, and so our lives are in part connected to theirs."

"Hmm." Bigby takes in this information and allows himself to feel a little pleased about his infamy; he wouldn't be there without it. Not that here was particularly wonderful, he reminded himself.
The Sheriff then wonders, "what do you mean by 'removing' them?"

"There's nowhere to bury them around here. New waves of Mundies keep coming and the city is expanding; it's true that after some time the bones of the forgotten dead turn to dust, however we cannot afford for any to be found in the meantime. Therefore two options seem realistic: taking the bodies further in land or taking them out to sea."

"And you're going to ask this Rag 'n' Bones character to do it?" 

"No Sheriff. I'm going to get you to ask him."

Sheriff Bigby has reservations about this. Many reservations.

"Hold on a moment - we can't just pressgang other Fables into doing jobs like this."
 Miss Snow White does dislike the situation, yet might the Sheriff out right refuse if she showed that?

"Yet we all have to work together, Sheriff, and this is Jeremiah's natural area. Sort of."

"No. His natural area is collecting junk and selling it, and finding bones and... Wait, that's a point! How do you know he won't boil down the bones of the dead?" 

"Don't be ridiculous, Sheriff; he's not some giant!"

Realising that there is going to be no persuading Miss White to another course of action, and quite possibly understanding something of the necessity of why she asks, he simply says: "Well I don't like it."

"Tough. All you have to do is ask him - it's not like you're doing it with him." 

"There is that, I suppose," the Wolf acknowledges.

 "Though he may ask for help, and it might be best for you to give it him," is Miss White's slyly placed next comment. 

"What!" 

Snow White takes on an open tone; there is no coercion. "Please, Mister Wolf. I have two meetings shortly where I have to inform relatives that we've had word their loved ones are dead, attacked by the Adversary's minions as they tried to make for the gate out of the Homelands. We all have something lamentable to do."

Bigby is caught by the sight of Snow's precious eyes. There is a sadness in them that he has not seen before - a glimpse behind the mask; and though he be the Big Bad Wolf of legend, he has a heart which has now softened, slightly.

If you made it through all that, give yourself a biscuit. Or any other snack of your preference. I'd hoped to get this part all done in one, however I've got a bit carried away and I think there'd be too much in one go. Therefore I will post the next bit soon, and sorry for all the spaces in this. The speech was all stuck together otherwise, though some of the spaces should have been bigger to help break it up.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed something of it!

As a side note, the maps on the following link is quite interesting, I think, and is what I'm basing locations on for this part. The 1916 one is more detailed, yet the 1660 one is still good. Plus, due to something of a cencus at the time it's possible to know who lived where. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castello_Plan

MasterStone · June 2014

Chaper 5

Fight Club Part 1

Angered by Boogey's betrayal, Mett' storms through into the leagues headquarters wanting answers. He makes his way to the top floor and enters the room where Chupa and Talia are only present.

Mett: Where is Boogey.

Talia: He's in the lower levels. What wrong Mett'??

Mett' turns around and takes the elevator to the lowest level of the building. When he arrives, he walks down the long and dreary hallway. At the end he see's Boogey standing at the end of the hallway in front of a door.

Boogey: There you are Mett'.

Mett": For 4 years, for fucking years you lied to me!! You had me believe that the wolf killed my brothe this whole time!! WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU BEEN LYING ABOUT? THIS OPERATION? WHAT ELSE?

Boogey: The reason i lied to you was to keep you in check. And you would of never of joined my cause if I haven't. I needed your power, your resources. You, Talia, Chupa and Gillian are the key to my operation. Without you i cant-

Mett' grabs Boogey and lifts him up and slams him into the door. He demands that Boogey tell him where his brother is. Boogey points to the door and Mett' let him go and walks over.

*Mett': *He was here this whole time... LET HIM OUT OF HERE NOW.

Boogey: I can't do that just yet. You see, this child he is very extraordinary besides being a wendigo. He can intensify certain abilities which is quite rare and powerful...

Mett': What do you plan to do with him...

Boogey: I'm going to use his power and combine it with the power of fear. With it my power will be able to consume more than just children in fear...but ALL LIFE IT SELF! All life in this world will fear me.

*Mett': *So that's your plan? Cloud the whole world in total fear?

Boogey: And darkness and despair....

Mett' looks at his sleeping brother and closes his eyes for a brief moment. He turns to Boogey and ask him "What's stopping me from breaking my brother out of this place." Boogey replies, "If anyone but me sets foot into that room, my minions will be alerted and ordered to kill everyone including him. Do you really want to risk your brothers life for your selfishness?"

Mett' turns around to gives his brother one final look, before walking away towards the elevator scratching the wall with his claws in frustration. Then as Boogey watches him leave he turns to the door and peaks through. A creature can be seen under the bed where the boy is resting.

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Meanwhile, Draco has arrived to the city. He lands by a group of tree's and is greeted by Chupa, who is not glamoured and can be seen eating something covered in blood.

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Draco: What the hell are you suppose to be?

Chupa: Hola senor....my name is Chupara Del Rivera, I am a Chupacabra. We have been waiting for you, your friend has been waiting for you...

Draco: Where the hell is my friend? And if you laid one finger on him I swear-

Chupa: Conserve your energy senor, you will need it for la lucha.

*Draco: *What fight?

Chupa: If you want to save your friend senor you are going to have fight for his freedom. You will face our fiercest warrior in a bloody hand to hand combat. If you win you get your friend back, but if you lose, despedida amigo.

*Draco: *Take me to him, I'll fight whatever you throw at me.

Chupa: Bueno senor, follow me...

Draco followed Chupa to an old warehouse, the two enter and walks over to an old elevator. They board it and take it down to the basement area, and on the way down screams, roars, yelling and cheering can be heard. An ogre and a troll can be seen fighting each other in a caged ring.

Chupa: Welcome to the underground fighting ring for fables, amigo. Welcome to La Lucha.....

To be continued

DatDerpyGamer · June 2014

Chapter 1: Head of Loss

I sat on the steps of The Woodlands, taking yet another smoke from my cigarette, fresh from my near-full pack of Huff'n'Puffs. It was the only thing I really could do after a situation like that, there wasn't much else to do with what felt like a broken rib. The pain was weaker than it was when it happened, but I decided to take a look. After quickly glancing around to make sure no one was watching, I removed my pale-blue jacket and peered down my dark grey shirt. A large bruise rested where the pain lied, but there was no sign of any internal bleeding. I didn't need a Swineheart to know that it would heal by tomorrow.

"Hey there, Hope." spoke a familiar voice. Startled, my cigarette fell out from the grasp of my teeth and one to the cold pavement below.

"Well, there's another cig' you mindlessly wasted. Y'know, one day I'm gonna start having you buy me these packs." I spoke coldly, as I pulled another cigarette from the packet laid on my leg.

"Ha, then you can start paying me for these glamours, then we'll both be happy." Again spoke the familiar voice, in her similarly humored tone of voice.

I turned around to look at her. She stood looking down at me on the steps. She wore a deep purple denim jacket over her black t-shirt, and her black jeans fitted loosely, held on only by a spiked belt. She wore black sneakers to match her black-as-night hair. Her light green eyes cut through the dark clothing surrounding her, along with her blood-red lips.

"If you tried to stare at me anymore intimidatingly I'd probably mistake for Bigby..." I said, with my eyes focused across the street, through the restricting gates of The Woodlands.

"Oh, you mean the same Bigby who just kicked your ass an hour ago?" she laughed back at me. I made an unamused grumble as I glared back at her. "Hey, it ain't that bad, kid. At least your finally making a rep around this place."

"Do countless broken bones and bruises count as a rep? Because that's not a rep I want to wear." I snapped back at her. She always was a joker, but always to her own content. Her eyes showed a feeling of self-accomplishment at my response, she knew I wasn't exactly feeling jolly at this point in time. Then again, when am I?

"Well, maybe if you stopped picking fights with the 'Biiig Baaad Wooolf', you wouldn't be crawling to your own homemade A&E every other night." she responded. She spoke his name in a voice to mimic that of a whining 5 year-old, obviously another tease aimed at me.

"You're an absolute fucking comedian, T." I mumbled back. I wasn't in the mood to be making any comebacks right now.

"Awwwww, is the baby sad? Does he need cheering up?" she joked, again in the same childish voice.

"..." I took another puff and stood up on my feet. "Alright T, I better get back to my apartment, or I'll pass out on the stairs instead, then I'll get another broken rib from Shitby." I told her, as I began to pick myself up and walk up the steps.

"Yeeeeeah... about that. Mind if I crash with you tonight, Hope?" T replied. I looked at her annoyingly.

"Again, T? What is it between you and Snow that you're both just not willing to put behind you?" I asked, T looked at me, as if expecting me to know. I raised my eyebrow to give her the clue, and she reluctantly spit it out.

"You know how much she wants be in charge, Hope. I mean, why buy a TV if she never uses it and just tells me to get the hell off it everytime I put something on?" she looked at me again, trying to look as cute as possible to sway me her way. After what was probably about 6 seconds, I gave in.

"sigh...Fine. But don't think just because you're in my apartment and not Snow's that you can just own the place." I firmly told her.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n." she attentively said back. She darted past me and into the elevator. "Well, aren't you going to escort your guest of honor?" she called to me.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Jokerface." I called back. Getting up alone was a pain. I felt every bone in my rib shift place with each step I took, I began to fall to the ground. T ran to my help.

"Wow, Bigby really fucked you up this time, huh?" she asked me, taking my arm around her neck to help me up.

"Hey, I've been in worse shape, I'll take it." I responded. Once we reached the elevator, T gently placed me against a wall. She looked at the elevator buttons for a moment, searching her memory for my floor, in a moment it hit her, and she hit the button excitedly, almost like she overcame a challenge simply by remembering that floor.

"So, what've you done this time to get 'Shitby' crawling up your spine?" she asked curiously.

"I saw him with my sister about two hours ago. For a moment I thought he was about to pull out a roll of bills and have her treat him to a night of Pudding and Pie pleasure." I responded, with a distaste in my voice for the whole situation.

"Right, so it's okay for Woody to bang up your sister, but not the sheriff?" she said, yet again with a tone of joking in her voice. I didn't take it as such.

"Hey, I never fucking agreed to her choice of 'lifestyle'!" I snapped back at her, clearly voicing my anger at the attempted joke she just made. "It's hard for her to make a single buck in this town. I'm not proud of her, but I care about her..." I continued, much calmer than I was a few seconds ago. "If I could give her all the money she needed, I would, but I'm barely making enough myself, here. It's not been easy for her here..." T looked me in the eye. All sign of joking was gone from her face, replaced by regret and feeling for what I just told her. "I love her. I love her more than anything in the world. She's the only reason I bother to still pick myself out of bed each morning. I want to protect her, but..." I stopped for a moment. A tear left my eye as my mind was only filled with memories of her back in the Homeland. "She was so loved back in the Homeland. Until Lawrence fucked her over... that fucking piece of shit... if it were up to me I'd-" I was interrupted by the bell of the elevator, and the doors opened in front of us. T looked at me, waiting for the next words to leave my mouth, but in vain. Eventually, she spoke up.

"C'mon, big guy. Let's get into that palace of yours." she went to put my arm around her to support me again, but I interrupted her attempt.

"I can handle myself, T. I'll be fine." I assured her. We exchanged looks for a moment, then she continued down the end of the corridor to my room.

"Would these be the royal gates, my liege?" she joked again, with a playful grin on her face. I wasn't angry anymore. Thinking about my sister took all the anger I had away. I cracked a smile at her, then met her at the door. I retrieved my keys from my pocket and began to unlock the door when I heard the loud bang of an apartment door from right beneath me.

"That's Bigby's door... is Gren about to kick his ass or somethin'?" I asked myself. T quickly replied.

"I dunno, but I'm sure you're gonna find out." she replied.

"You know me too well, T." I answered. "You wait in here, I'll be right up." I told her.

"I'll hold down the fort, m'King!" she called to me as I ran back to the elevator. I hit the call button, but the elevator didn't come up. I looked above the elevator as it moved from Bigby's floor right down to the bottom floor. I repeatedly hit the call button until the elevator arrived, and before I knew it I was heading down to the bottom floor. I was full of excitement. Was I finally gonna see the sheriff himself get his ass kicked on the steps of The Woodlands? Giddy with anticipation, I darted out of the elevator and looked out of the main doors. Bigby and Snow were on the steps, and a coat of one of the security officers sat between them. Curiosity filled my mind, and I watched on through the windows of the doors. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but they seemed reasonably distressed. Deciding it was nothing, I went back to the elevator, disappointed. But before I did, I saw Bigby lay his hands on the coat. With a hint of curiosity still alive inside me, I glanced from the elevator to see what was underneath the coat. The next few seconds were the most horrifying seconds of my life.

DragonButter · June 2014

Amazing... obviously you have such a varied vocabulary, Noir, descriptive as always, bonus points for doing research too! I love how you detailed the dialogue between Snow and Biggs. Their responses to each other have probably been sneer remarks anyway due to the fact that their relationship is still maturing and growing! Way back in those Amsterdam days.

Markd4547 · June 2014

A visual masterpiece was written and described so well more like watching a film in my head then reading a story. The intelligence of your words always delight me finishing your tales makes me feel smarter in a way lol. I think it's was your best chapter so far just beautiful and expertly told with a fascinating concept of the Fables body's just perfect thanks for the share

Markd4547 · June 2014

DRACO FIGHT CLUB yes quality tale can't wait for the next installment

DragonButter · June 2014

This is really getting interesting now, and you added a Fable fighting ring into the mix! Well done!

Damn that Lord Boogey too, evil conniving bastard. ;P

DragonButter · June 2014

T's a smartass, I like it.

DatDerpyGamer · June 2014

Thanks. I wanted her character to be a comic relief for Hope, but still serious when she needs to be.

And plus she's so fun to write.

DragonButter · June 2014

I can imagine, keep it up when you can!

DragonButter · June 2014

I know this is a late reply but I honestly can't wait, I can imagine that her and Bloody Mary will get themselves in all sorts of predicaments. If they do.

MasterStone · June 2014

Fight Club is one of my favorite movies, so i figured why not. lol

DragonButter · June 2014

I... never saw it. :S But you have inspired me to watch it someday! Also assuming that it's on Netflix, haha.

DragonButter · June 2014

We all are enjoying it.

pudding_pie · June 2014

Chapter 16

"...and live happily ever after....?"

EDIT: Picture of Gren and Carla with their daughter from the VERY near future.
Sorry for the terrible quality...yeesh..-.-

Alt text

Bigby and Snow made their arrival to the Pudding & Pie. It was late at night; the air still heavy and thick, the noise outside the walls slowly coming to an ease. In Snow's hand, she held the files of Carla and Gren. Since the incident at the Business office earlier today, things had to come to an agreement.

They were greeted by Hans, who led them to the lounge. The trademark pink neon lights were gone, instead, several floor lamps and ceiling fans lite the way. They took a seat next to John and Carla. Also joining them, were Gren, Lyla and Georgie. In Lyla's hand, she cradled Katie; Georgie holding Junior. Emily and Penny were sound asleep in Nancy's arms. The little wolf cub was gnawing at a chew toy, the sound of squeaks filling the lounge every couple of seconds. Snow opened the files and took out the necessary papers she needed. This wouldn't take long but Snow wanted to make sure everything was complete and legit.

"Good evening and thank you all for meeting us here. I appreciate you, Georgie, for allowing us the access to your club."

Georgie gave a slight nod in Snow's direction. Snow returned the gesture with a smile.

"Okay, down to business. Earlier, we had some conflict at the office between BOTH parties. Johnathan Smith and Grendel lost control and the cognitive skills to act like adults in this situation..."

Gren and John, despite what took place today, knew they were in the wrong. In reality, problems like this could easily be solved. Both agreed their emotions were rattled and words were said that normally never were rarely spoken of.

"I've come to the conclusion, the only way we can truly have a 'normal' life, while still abiding by the rules, I will have to make a few changes to the document and the community as well."

Snow grabbed a separate stack from Bigby.

"This," continued Snow, while holding up the papers. "WILL make the next set of rules that I list concrete and unable to be changed, even after thousands of years have passed, they are set in stone."

Snow took a moment to look around the room. What she saw was a disaster, a war going on that she had no idea existed. Cole, unaware of the Council's 'true' intentions for the set of rules, didn't see any harm at placing certain 'limits' to his town. The Council, however, devised a plan over centuries to remain in control and the dominant society. They viewed the Fables as 'pests' and unwelcomed guets; they claimed for years the Folkers alike had created a perfect, well rounded species. It became a routine for both Fable and Folker; to avoid one another and keep to themselves. Although they agreed on the mundies and remained in the shadows, the Council still remained in the higher power and still managed to not only control their world but the Fables as well.

Snow glanced once more at Gren and Carla. They, despite their hateful thoughts and differences, being raised on a certain way of viewing the world, they managed to break free and embrace one another. Lyla, like her sisters, grew up with the Alpha and Superior of the Council and was taught to believe Fables were reprobate and unable to live among the Folker community; she could recall the girls arriving one afternoon after school with a book listing just that. 'Fables are corrupt; their blood is tainted and will only deliver tragic outcomes, should you befriend or love one.' The thought sent shivers down Snow's spine; what kind of legislative government would place this thought into the minds of young children?

She cleared her thoughts and returned to the current situation at hand. There were lives on the line, even as she spoke; despite the Council 'complete' with the documentation of Lyla and Georgie's children, they were conniving and would do anything possible to create problems for not only them but the Business office as well.

"Set in stone," asked Carla, as she continued grasping at Gren's arm. "Like, nothing they say or do can change anything?"

"But we ARE Folkers, Snow," replied Lyla. "No matter what you say, no matter how many rules you throw their way, the Council will always come back with that one word. We can't escape who we are, even though we reside in the Fable community."

"Yes, I DO understand your concern Lyla and were you stand," said Snow. "However, the Council shunned you and your family our; last time Bigby and your father checked, the name 'Smith' had been wiped clean from their records. As far as anyone is concerned, you are nothing more than a faint memory."

"Okay, so the Council moved some things around and erased them," voiced Gren. "That never stopped those fuckers from crossing the line and creating havoc, for ALL of us! Just the other day, Carla and I witnessed one at Mr. Gumbo's Chinese restaurant! Those assholes don't want to cooperate or listen, Snow! This ring around the rosie bullshit will never stop because THEY don't want it to!"

"We get that Gren," said Bigby. "Trust us. Snow and I have taken into consideration all of our well beings when it comes to the Council. We have on record, however, THEIR choice to send the Smiths out of their community and into ours. As far as they saw it, they were no longer Folkers; they were traitors to their own kind."

"That still does not mean shit, Sheriff," bellowed Gren. "Not too long ago, Lyla had that fucking nightmare where EVERYONE was slaughtered like animals! Come to find out, their Voodoo Priestess managed to sneak over here and fucking spread her magic or whatever that was!"

"AND John took the time to seek out Lola, a Voodoo Priestess they have known for years. Lola is skilled in all sorts of magice and she has taken the time to come out to the Pudding and Pie and make sure nothing harmful comes to either Lyla, Georgie, the babies or anyone associated with this; that includes us as well."

Gren sat back down; Carla began rubbing his knee and kissed his cheek. Although she was worried this would not work, she still had to have faith in the Sheriff and Snow. She had to for not only her sake but Gren's as well.

"Please, Gren," continued Snow. "Do not lose your temper. We are only here to help us all out; the way I see it, we are all in this, especially the day Bigby decided to bring home a puppy WITHOUT my consent."

Bigby and John began chuckling like hens in the coop.

"The Council simply have become drunk with power. They have deliberately created decisions on only their thoughts in mind and not how this would benefit the community. I have witnessed the several levels the Council has to offer and I can say this-neither one of them is capable of running a functioning, healthy community. We, like Folkers, are all lost in this world; terrified of the unknown, unsure of the future. But we have to work together, let go of silly arguments, idiotic choices WE made. Its too bad they do not feel the same."

Bigby brought out a black inked pen and handed it to Snow. She was focused on the words she began scribbling down on the paper. Everyone in the room was focused on the one person capable of producing peace and order to the Fable community. Lyla and Georgie now had all four babies in their arms; clenching them tightly against their chest, waiting. Hans, Gina, Mary and Henry watched from afar; although they had separate views on the town and how things should run, they all agreed this silly feud had gone on long enough. Nancy held onto John and smiled; too bad this didn't happen the first year they began dating all those years ago. He kissed her forehead; he too, thought the same thing. Gren and Carla's eyes were glued to the paper; watching every curve, every dot Snow placed on the paper.

When Snow was complete, Bigby signed, as did she. Snow stamped the bottom with a bright red label and after a few seconds, held up the document.

"From here on out," spoke Snow, to all the worried souls in the club that night. "Any Folker, Fable or Halfer will be able to choose whom they see fit to be either their friend or mate. No longer will the groups be separated but combined. Mundies may CHOOSE to date either of these, however, take precaution that follows with: Do not speak of this world to anyone. Be careful. Be safe. All babies created and known as 'Halfers' will no longer need to be documented, however, if they do not LOOK human or do pose a threat to the community, a warning will be given. If you fail to complete the task or take care of the issue, there will be consequences to follow."

Snow paused to take a moment and see the weight being lifted. Everyone was able to live the lives they saw fit; in the morning, she would show the changes to Cole and before noon, the rules would be set as she said it, in stone. She watched Georgie and Lyla kiss, the babies kicking and cooing in their arms. Nancy and John locked in a loving embrace; Henry and Mary shaking hands, while Hans spun Gina around, both filled with giggles. Gren and Carla sitting by one another; her focusing on the engagement ring. Gren kissed her forehead and smiled at Snow. Despite his feelings and past frustration he had for the Business office, this was a start.

"Alright," announced Snow. "From here on out, all is welcome to the Fable community. Welcome to Fabletown."

Bigby and John shoke hands and walked their way to the bar; while Henry poured drinks, he and John smoked of Huff n' Puffs.

"God, this fucking shit is terrible," coughed John. "After all these years and these are STILL the brand you choose."

Snow took Mary to the side to have a brief moment; although Mary thought Snow was taking on too much at once, she still wanted to be involved. Although she did not think this was a wise decision, her sister's lives were on the line and she couldn't afford to see them crumble down into a heaping pile of nothing.

Lyla and Georgie had fought many battle with not only the Council but Business office. They were pleased to see something being done, especially since it was no longer about themselves anymore. The babies continued to kick in their arms. Hans and Gina were pleased that they would not have to go through the horrific methods the Council created.

Gren and Carla were outside, while everyone inside celebrated the news. Gren held Carla against his chest; the smell of his strong cologne tickling her nose. She inhaled the smell and grinned. As he rocked her back and forth, she could make out his heart skipping against his chest. The wind picked up, blowing the heavy, thick blanket of heat still sitting above them.

"C'mon, Carla," said Gren, as he took her hand. "Let's go celebrate ourselves. The moon is big tonight and our usual spot will be brightly lit tonight."

Carla smiled, indicating to Gren the answer he needed. As the two made their way out of the city limits, they said their goodbyes to the barbwire fence that had surrounded their minds for so long. Carla looked back, to the city that never sleeps.

To a new beginning.

EMMYPESS · June 2014

Yeah, Mary seems to be her irresponsible BFF lately, lol.

EMMYPESS · June 2014

Yeah. We finished reading A Midsummer's Night Dream in class a week ago, and I thought,"If all these other fables are from books and legends, why wouldn't Shakespeare's characters be Fables as well?" I'm glad you liked it.

LupineNoir · June 2014

Thanks! I'm glad you noticed the dialogue, I really tried to avoid any hint of romance because of how long ago it was, like you say.
Handily, I read the 'Barleycorn Brides' comic just after I began writing this, which helped as it's set at the time period I was aiming for.

JonesJ · June 2014

WHEW! That was intense! I loved this chapter, pudding. Glad to see everyone working together. You create such emotion between the people involved and I enjoy it. Hopefully next chapter will have a picture? More!

Good job again! They just kicked the Council to the curb!

LupineNoir · June 2014

Glad you enjoyed it! I had fun writing it which I guess comes across, and I'm humbled by you thinking it intelligent. Funny thing is, I always compare my stories to yours, become inspired, and think that I could do with putting more action in. I just don't know where to put it haha. Also, I should admit that the idea of the Fables staying alive because of the Mundies interest in them is something I read in one of the comics, however what happens to the bodies I came up with.

One more thing, I wanted to say that I'm doing something for your The Walking Dead thread, it's just taking me a while to get it all planned out.

LupineNoir · June 2014

First rule of Fables fight club: you don't talk about Fables fight club. This is going to some interesting places.

LupineNoir · June 2014

I'm curious about how you've slotted your story into the game, with the relation to Faith. She really hasn't been mentioned much as of yet. Some great work there

DragonButter · June 2014

Damn! You always know how to set a scene, Georgie!

Markd4547 · June 2014

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Cool and I'd be honored if you wrote a story on my thread after seeing your talent first hand I'm really excited now I can't wait. Inspired by me? In no way would call myself a writer I just write down crazy adventures I imagine in my head usually over complex and violent if anything I should be taking lessons from you your miles ahead of me in terms of writing stories but thanks very much.

EMMYPESS · June 2014

Alright. This is part 2 of chapter 4, since I think I've put it off long enough to post it. If you want the first part, it should be on page 12, if I'm not mistaken.

The line stretches out the front doors of our Fabletown Kingdom. Everyone is in some sort of pretty dress or fancy tuxedo. Snow is ahead of me, along with the cubs and my child-sized mother. She decided against coming in her adult form with my brothers, seeing as they're a bunch of trouble makers, and she'd rather enjoy the night not having to be an adult.

Mary picked out a few dresses the night before, asking me which I prefer.

"Short and Sexy, or Long and Elegant?" She'd said.

I went with knee length, and classy. The dress was white with blue beads in the meshing, to compliment the streaks in my hair. Snow was the one who helped me put it up, and she also went over some immediate table manors with me and my aunts and uncles.

"The people who dine on the Remembrance Day floor are usually the most sophisticated of our community. Try and not embarrass yourselves, or me for that matter. And stay out of the desserts until after dinner."

I repeated in my mind which fork was for what meal and how to cut my meat and drink my soup. Eating is a lot of work! If I'd have known, I would have stayed a Zephyr. Me and Uncle Ghost could have fun playing tricks together. But for some odd reason, any time I try to turn back, it hasn't worked in the slightest.

We finally make it up the stairs and on the ballroom floor. I search the crowd of socializing Fables for Mary. She should already-

"Harmony! There ya are! You look great!" she bellows from a few feet in front of me.

"Ah, yeah. Thanks. Are you already drunk?"

She laughs,"You better believe it! I've been forcing Jack to bring me endless margaritas from the bar."

"I'll just leave you be then..."

"See ya! Hey, you should try some!"

"No thanks."

I pushed passed her to the dining area with Conner and Blossom, who'd decided to tag along with me. Each seat was labeled with a name, and it wasn't long before we found a table labeled "Wolf Clan" in the center on a piece of paper. The kids sat around, leaning over to speak to each other over the roaring music. I saw Briar Rose and her band playing up on stage. It was the sweetest melody I ever heard. Snow approached but then diverted her attention to the window nearest to us. She stared down, almost forlornly.

"Is something bugging you, Gram?" I ask, softly.

"No. I mean-" She paused," You already know who that statue is, right?"

"Bigby. My grandfather. Yeah, I know."

"I just- I hope I'm right. I hope he can come back. I know he wouldn't stay wherever he his."

"I think he will come back. If I'm not wrong, there's a prophecy that said he was to die 7 times before he was gone for good, right?"

"Something like that, I suppose." She turns to me, and smiles weakly," Go enjoy yourself. Meet some new faces. And stay away from Mary, damnit."

I stifle a laugh and loose myself in the crowd of half-drunk adults who can't contain the excitement of Remembrance to themselves. More people fill in, some late. I see Beauty and Beast. I know it's them because I've seen pictures from the album Snow showed me. They have their little daughter, Bliss, with them. They pass by, and I watch for more people staggering in.

Then there's him.

Our eyes lock, and he smiles sheepishly at me. I don't know what to do and my face feels as though it flushed bright red.

He's walking toward me.

Actually, limping is a better word. He's got a crutch.

"H-hey. I never seen you around here before. My name's Tim."

"I...."

"Well looky here! Tiny Tim! My main man, Mr. Potato tossing Stick dude!" Mary interjects. Her drunkeness only gets worse the longer you're around her.

"Mary, that makes no sense whatsoever. You've gotta stop drinking, before you accidentally stumble through a mirror and throw up on whatever teenage girl who summoned you."

"Haha! I didn't know you had jokes, boy! I'm gonna find Jack and get some friggin Bloody Mary's. Oh, the irony!"

And again, she's gone. Thank God.

I turn to Tim again,"Why do they call you tiny? You're pretty tall next to me."

"Eh, it's a childhood nickname. I've grown to dislike it, but..."

"But no one will stop calling you it. It's okay. I like just calling you Tim."

He lets a smirk shine through for a brief moment. I smirk back and we head for the dining area. Instead of going to my table, I follow him to his. It's significantly smaller.

"Do you mind if I sit here? I mean, I'll grab a chair from my table."

"Don't worry, you sit in my seat, I'll just steal a new one," Afterwards, Tim reaches behind him and steals a seat labeled,"Grimble" on it.

"You don't have anyone else that sits with you?"

"No. I was the only one of my family who escaped from the Homelands. I'm holding onto the hope that they'd made it."

"I'm so sorry." I say. He looks at me with sad eyes.

"It's okay, no need for apologies. What I need to know is your name."

"Oh my! I haven't even told you!" I laugh, a somewhat forced one," It's Harmony Wolf."

"Harmony....Hmmm. It's got a ring to it, very lovely. I like it. And your surname is Wolf? Are you related to-"

"Yes. I mean, yeah, Snow White, uh...Bigby. They're my grandparents. Sortof." Smooth, Harmony. Smooth.

"Aren't their kids like, five though?" He looks confused.

"They're eleven, actually. But yeah. Seems impossible, but....It's a long story. You should start reading on page one, and you'll see how it worked out."

"Uh, excuse me?"

"Nevermind that."

The rest of dinner goes rather successfully. He tells me the story of how he escaped the homelands. A heartbreaking one, but a story nonetheless. I hadn't even noticed we were holding eachother's hands across the table, when he asked me to dance.

"I'm not very good, but maybe we can sway back and forth." He laughs and I nod, smiling.

I put my arms on his shoulders and he slowly let go of his crutch, letting it fall on the ground near our table. He looked at me and placed his hands on my waist, steadying himself. The band played a slow ballad and tons of couples littered the dance floor. I didn't notice a single one.

We danced for a good ten minutes, the beat staying slow and steady. We didn't talk much. He probably shared the same amount of butterflies in his stomach as I did in my own. I stared into his eyes, and electric dark blue. From the corner of my eye, I saw her again.

Snow stood near the windows, with tears in her eyes.

The song was luckily ending in time for me to break the dance between him off.

"Tim, I need to go talk with someone. If you don't mind."

"Not at all. I've hand enough standing anyway. Just help me to my table, please?"

"Sure."

As soon as we got there, I headed straight for her. But, being me, things conveniently get in the way. And when I say things, I only me one thing. Mary.

"Hey! Wait up Harm!"

She tugs my arm back.

"What's up? I kinda have something urgent."

"I need you to," she hiccups," To meet Mr. Jack Fucking Horner."

She gestures to the messy haired blond guy who seems to be the only reason she can stand straight. The look on his face screams "Help Me" all over it. I laugh, and push past, keeping my mind on the target.

I stood right behind her, unable to hear her sobs, but I knew they were there.

"Are you okay?"

She slowly turns her head,"Oh. Yeah. I am. You know."

I step closer, until we stand side-by-side. We look out together, the sunset's rays shining through the glass statue and creating a rainbow of colors on the ground. I pull Snow into a hug.

"Don't worry. He's going to come back."

"How do you know?"

"I can feel the winds tensing. So does my mother. He's coming, soon. I don't know when. But soon."

What do you think? I think it's a step up on my part. I don't know. I liked this one a lot. Took me FOREVER to think of a fable that Harmony might take interest in. Thought Tiny Tim was innocent enough to be a candidate. I almost made up a new character, but thought that would take up too much time.

Also, thank you, those of you who really enjoy my writing. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that. I don't write to win competitions, I do it for the genuine feeling of entertaining you in a way that we can connect through and become better friends- Even if it's through a computer screen of sorts. I was honored to be a winner of the May competition, and I only hope we can all improve even greater the longer we go with this thing.

~ Emily.

DragonButter · June 2014

You're welcome, Em. I am glad you are a part of this little writer's circle that all of us have got going here. I really love your reads, I also like how things are calm and (mostly) smooth in your story so far! You adding in Tiny Tim was surprising indeed!

EMMYPESS · June 2014

Yeah. I got to thinking and thought, "Hey! I wrote a story about Tim. He's a nice guy! Nice enough for my Sweet Little Harmony!" I swear, Bill Willingham does things like that all the time. He writes a story arc about the least likely person you'd expect, and then the next story arc shows how that character plays a huge role with the main ones to solve their constantly growing pile of troubles.

DragonButter · June 2014

Everything is fascinating now.

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JonesJ · June 2014

HEY! LOVE the picture! She's too cute! Any names yet or is that a surprise? BTW Grens looks fiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnneeeee!

pudding_pie · June 2014

I have a name but that's going to have to wait. Glad you like it.

pudding_pie · June 2014

Chapter 17

"Try Again..."

The room was dark and cold; the window was open wide, allowing cold air outside to enter. He hated this time of year; the temperature was adjusting to the upcoming Fall and Winter seasons. The afternoons were unbelievably hot, while the nights as cold as ice. He tried to move around but it was useless; these ropes around his ankles, waist and arms were not budging. He didn't remember much; he could recall sweeping the area up, trying to get out of the Lucky Pawn as quickly as he could. Malcom and Nate arrived without warning; he assumed the Folkers wanted to either sell something or buy; that was usually your only options these days. That was it; next thing he knew, he was here.

The door suddenly swung open; the bright light blinding Jersey for a few seconds. He had to look away. When his focus returned, he found Malcom and Nate surrounding him; towards the door, stood Sam. He had a bottle of beer in his hand and a cigarette in the other. Malcom grabbed the cloth from Jersey's mouth and the three watched as Jersey began coughing and gagging. His throat was dry and he was very parched.

"Start talking, Fable," demanded Nate.

"I'd love to," snorted Jersey. "But seems like you boys do not know how to entertain your guests. Perhaps a cold beverage to help with my dry throat?"

Sam didn't find the sarcastic tone in his voice very charming; he was indisposed of Jersey, tired of seeing a Fable in his presence.

Nate allowed Malcom to exit the room and return with a glass of cold water. He pressed it to Jersey's lips and the three watched as he nearly finished the beverage in one gulp. Jersey thanked Malcom and soon, found Nate standing before him once more.

"Now," replied Nate, as he placed the glass down on a table. "Start talking, Fable. I KNOW you are aware of the situation Fabletown has created and we do not appreciate something like this being kept under the rug..."

"Why," asked Jersey, still smirking. "You dogs have kept many things hidden in the shadows for fuckin' years and ain't no one tying you up and forcing you to choke on your own spit!"

Sam clenched his fists and began grinding his teeth. 'Fucking Fable,' he thought. 'God, how I fucking can't stand them!' Jersey was skating on thin ice with him at this moment; the bottom was giving way and the frigid waters was starting to peak through.

"You think this shit is funny, Fable," demanded Nate. "We do not find it very amusing or professional of that bitch, Snow and her junk yard dog! Personally, I'd expect better from those two..."

"And just what the fuck do ya' want me to do, huh? I don't fuckin' work there, ya' know! Or are your heads so far up your asses, you are havin' a hard time understanding this?"

Sam tossed the cigarette butt to the side and marched towards Jersey. He took a second at glance, looked the man up and down and without notification, took a swing at his face. Nate and Malcom looked on startled by his sudden eruption. Sam grabbed Jersey's shirt collar and grasped it tightly in his hands. The blood was trickling down his nose. 'Disgusting,' thought Sam.

"You think this is the comedy club, Fable," screeched Sam. "Now, he asked you a question and I'm getting pretty fucking tired of this little game you are playing! He asked you if you knew ANYTHING about the Fable's sudden change to the rules. Rumor has it, someone said they saw you having a little pow-wow with Carla and that fucking disease Grendel. Now talk!"

Jersey was amused by Sam's expression. The Folker was turning blood red, his breathing substantial and his eyes dilated. Jersey found it humorous knowing the Folkers were running out of options trying to seek answers. The choices were dwindling down and they were forced to ask a Fable in hopes of finding out the truth. He laughed, causing Sam to swing at him once more. Jersey could hear his nose breaking, the splatter of blood now on the floor. The beast within growing stronger; these boys had no idea what was coming their way, should this continue.

"TALK!"

"What do you want me to say, dog," said Jersey. "So I go to that park? Big fuckin' whoop d' whoop! I see all kinds of Fables there. Just the other night, I saw Lyla and Georgie taking a stroll, enjoying the fresh air. Hell, I've seen just about every Fable make their way out there. So what if I saw them?"

"So you DID see them," shouted Sam, continuing to grasp at Jersey's shirt collar. "Speak, damn you! Tell me what I want to know! I've been informed you SAW them and are aware of WHAT Snow has planned for the city and what that means for us! Now talk!"

"Oh, that's right," cackled Jersey. "You boys can't stand to see when the war has been won, can ya'? Can't handle the idea of one of your own fuckin' someone like us, huh? Yeah, pretty little things like those Smith girls would cause World War three, ain't that right, Samuel? Damn fuckin' shame....Carla fuckin' that Grendel boy, he givin' it to her night, after night, while you are stuck with nothing more than your right hand!"

Malcom watched, as Sam and Nate both dug into their pant pockets and fish something out. He didn't want a part of this; the less blood he had on his hands, the better.

"Oh yeah," continued Jersey. "I bet Gren gives it to her REAL good, Sam! 'Oh Gren, more big guy! Put your fuckin' baby in me...'"

On Sam's knuckles, laid a row of brass; Nate, too, had a set. Jersey watched as the metal glistened under the florescent lights. Nate took a swing at Jersey's face, causing his glasses to break and a few teeth to follow. Jersey pat on the floor, causing a pool of blood to form beside him. He looked at Sam, who soon followed Nate's actions. He hit the other cheek. While Jersey continued to cough up more blood and teeth, he found both the men starring directly into his eyes; they were both a dark, yellow shade. Nate now had a row of teeth on his upper jaw, Sam growling and anxiously waiting to lunge at Jersey's throat.

"Fuck you, Fable," screamed Sam, as he took another swing at Jersey. "You think you're so hilarious! You think none of this matters, do you? You parasites are all the fucking same; worming your way into our perfect society, taking our women! Breeding and creating trash, then thinking there is nothing wrong! You people make me sick! Look at you; what the hell are you? NOTHING!"

Malcom could sense what was coming; Nate and Sam were too caught up in their cockiness, they didn't notice Jersey's hands turn into claws, his skin turning a dark timber grey. He backed up into a corner and looked on. As Nate and Sam continued using Jersey as their punching bag, the room was filled with a bright green light. They stood back, blinded by the unexpected light. when they came to, instead of the 'glamoured' Jersey, they were flung to the side like simple children's toys by the 'true' Jersey.

Nate landed against the door; Sam slammed into the concrete wall. When he managed to return on his feet, Jersey lunged into the air, landed on Sam and began clawing at his flesh, bits and pieces of skin and blood covering his claws. Nate turned into his wolf form, ran to his partner's side and sunk his teeth into Jersey's shoulder. The beast let out a hiss, as he and Nate battled on the floor. Nate lifted his mighty paw and struck Jersey in the chest. He bellowed out in agony, as Sam jabbed his fangs into his right leg. The wolves were determined to end this battle here in this tiny concrete box; they were tired of the Fables believing they had an upper hand. To think they asked one of them for assistance.

The struggle continued, as Jersey pinned Sam into the wall and sunk his teeth into his neck. Nate managed to latch onto Jersey's back but not for long, as the beast reached around, pulled Nate off and impaled him with one of his antlers. Nate, badly injured and bleeding, crawled away from Jersey's reach and into a corner. Sam would soon follow, as Jersey submerged his claws into Sam's neck. Soon, a stream of blood poured out of his neck. The wolf clung to his wounds and hoped the bleeding would stop. Jersey looked around at the defeated Folkers; both whimpering and rocking back and forth. They were unaware of their opponent's capabilities and it showed.

Jersey laughed and walked up to Nate, then stabbing his shoe into Sam's knee cap, causing the man to shriek out in horrible pain.

"You Folkers ain't so tough," laughed Jersey, as he continued to kick them. "Psh, pathetic....my opinion, boys. If ya' REALLY want the answers, do me a favor-don't ask a Fable, unless suicide IS the way you prefer to be buried six feet under. See ya' around, boys..."

Jersey walked away from the mess but not before making a quick stop to Malcom, who was sill in the corner stunned at what he witnessed. Jersey gave him a friendly slap on the face and grinned; he wasn't going to hurt this one. The dog was already shaking and close to piddling on the ground.

"I'd, uh, keep a leash on those two, for future purposes, okay?"

Jersey walked out into the world; the sun slowly rising and the air still frigid. That evening, he would make a visit to the Business office.

What a small world this was turning out to be.

He couldn't wait to tell Carla or Gren, should they cross his path again.

Markd4547 · June 2014

Really enjoyed this tale just so many feels so beautiful

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