Basically, I’m smitten with Nerissa. Out of all the games I’ve played, never have I cared this much about a character. The only other charac… moreter I had some sorts of feels for was Elizabeth at the end of Burial at Sea Episode Two. That was a brutal ending to tie two fantastic games together. Anyway, that doesn’t compare to the pain I feel seeing Nerissa constantly ache with the hand she’s been dealt. She just darn near breaks my heart. Seeing as how The Wolf Among Us is canon to the Fables comic series, and Nerissa isn’t in the comics (I haven’t read the comics, so feel free to correct me on that), I’m going to go out on a limb and say that she either dies in Episode 5, or she’s forgotten and fades into non-importance as the plot comes to an epic conclusion. Either way, I have a feeling her happy ending will continue to elude her. She strikes me as that character you want to get a happy ending, but know it’s not going to happen because, well, t… [view original content]
Chapter 32
"Rage of war part 4"
'You have enemies? Good. That means you stood up for something.'
Jersey was half way to the top of … morethe Council's building. Malcom was down below keeping watch; the might wolf took form and simply hid in the shadows. His noise was sniffing the air, frantically searching for anything unusual. Jersey dug his claws deep into the concrete walls and pulled himself up; the creature began to his and mumble his rage to himself. He, like the others, had no idea WHY he was here. Jersey simply felt like he had to be here, to help them out.
'But why,' he thought, as he continued to climb. 'They surely never cared about ME or my struggles in this world. After all, I've been alone all these years; never once did I ever need a friend or felt the need to do something out of sheer kindness.' There was indeed holding the beast back; something about the Porgie family, even including her sister's world, was keeping him … [view original content]
Good grief! What on Earth is happening in the comics? Actually, don't tell me, as I plan on catching up. Still, you're writing is smooth and precise, moving things forward yet allowing for comical asides. I honestly think it's well worth reading!
Go for it! The writing, I mean. Nerissa does seem to be in a sad situation in The Wolf Among Us, so something that might change her fortune would probably be nice to read. Also, I think of a sunrise as being synonymous with hope as well as courage, because courage without hope is surely like a candle with no one to view it. An odd simile, I grant you. Anyway, I like what you've got so far.
Basically, I’m smitten with Nerissa. Out of all the games I’ve played, never have I cared this much about a character. The only other charac… moreter I had some sorts of feels for was Elizabeth at the end of Burial at Sea Episode Two. That was a brutal ending to tie two fantastic games together. Anyway, that doesn’t compare to the pain I feel seeing Nerissa constantly ache with the hand she’s been dealt. She just darn near breaks my heart. Seeing as how The Wolf Among Us is canon to the Fables comic series, and Nerissa isn’t in the comics (I haven’t read the comics, so feel free to correct me on that), I’m going to go out on a limb and say that she either dies in Episode 5, or she’s forgotten and fades into non-importance as the plot comes to an epic conclusion. Either way, I have a feeling her happy ending will continue to elude her. She strikes me as that character you want to get a happy ending, but know it’s not going to happen because, well, t… [view original content]
The incident at the Council was spreading like wildfire; no one knew who did this or HOW it got started. Several people assumed it was an accident; the secretary and Decimus had a nasty habit of smoking inside the building. Others already had their pitch forks and torches ready; they all had the fingers pointed to Fables and they were ready to attack. But with lack of evidence and so many vouching for the Fables in question, what choice did they have but to make their way back into the dark and wait.
Malcom and Jersey never spoke about that day. Although John and Bigby KNEW they did it, why bring it up? The only question they had now was this-the Council would have to replace their men and refill the positions. WHO would take them and how power hungry would they be? None of this was over with; despite the attempt to rid those that caused problems, that didn't secure their freedom.
Carla, however, could care less. The cocoon lodged deep inside her womb had hardened over night. It made it difficult to sleep comfortably or move. She could feel Rosie moving around inside. The Grendel baby was continuing to grow at a rapid pace; it wouldn't be long until she was finally here. Carla closed her eyes for a few minutes, leaned against some animal skins and relaxed. She placed her arms along her belly and began feeling Rosie kick. Although it brought discomfort, she didn't mind; knowing her child was happy and growing, made it all worthwhile.
Carla didn't notice Swineheart struggling against the fresh powder. It was snowing all night; Carla could recall waking up and shivering from the frigid temperatures outside. Gren built her a fire and wrapped a large deer skin throw around Carla. He snuggled between her and while she drifted back to sleep, he rocked her gently.
"Carla," said Swineheart, as he entered the cave. "You in here, Carla?"
Carla was startled. She peered over and found the doctor placing his bag down and warming up by the fire. He grinned when he noticed Carla, sitting comfortably against the cave and relaxing.
"I see you took my advice," continued the doctor. "With a titan growing inside of your womb, rest is the best option. Any little thing could cause stress to the two of you. My main concern is still you and the birthing plan. Grendel said he created a center just for this. I noticed the river, however, is nearly frozen over."
"We are doing it, inside the cave," replied Carla, as she struggled to get up.
Swinheart reached over and slowly lifted Carla to her feet. He watched as her belly rippled from the movement; Rosie was turning around and kicking along the way. Carla pressed herself against the wall and held her lower abdomen. Between the cocoon and Rosie moving down, she couldn't tell which was worse.
"Ugh, excuse me, doctor. She is making it hard to even just stand up now."
Swinheart made Carla sit down. As he prepared to check on Rosie, Gren walked into the cave followed by Malcom, John and Bigby. The three men took a seat near the opening, while Gren sat beside Carla. He noticed the discomfort in her face; she was finding it difficult to sit and remain still.
"I blame you, Gren," said Carla, as she playfully pushed him.
Gren laughed, as Swineheart took out a device. It looked like a smaller version of the ultrasound machine. He placed the end directly onto her belly, as he circled around her belly button. He turned on the machine, pushed a button and continued checking the baby. The tiny machine beeped every time it crossed Rosie's path. After five minutes, it was complete.
"Well, everything seems to be in tip top order, you two," replied Swineheart, as he helped Carla sit up. "She is very healthy and from what I could tell in this area here, the cocoon is beginning to soften up. That is why I mentioned the birthing plan earlier. Carla mentioned you were having it in the cave..."
"Yes. The water outside is solid; I never took that into consideration, so, our best bet is in here. Her sisters agreed to come down and help; who you see here, plus a few others, will also be here to help me set everything up."
"Excellent you two. Well, I'd have to say, you both are prepared for this child."
From a distance, Carla noticed Lyla and Georgie; he however, was struggling to move through the snow. She managed to get to the cave first and headed to Carla. Lyla hugged her sister, then placed her ear against her belly.
"She's moving a lot in there," said Lyla. "How has that been for you?"
"Swinheart said she is very healthy and very pleased. The cocoon is softening up, Lyla..."
The girls began squealing, just as Georgie managed to fall into the cave and take a seat. He was panting heavily, as he leaned back into the rock.
"Fuck sake," gasped Georgie. "The fuck do you need to be out here in the middle of nowhere? Fuckin' cold, snow everywhere....ya' should have done all this birthing shit in your apartment. There are supplies to make it a jungle theme if ya' needed to-"
John kicked Georgie's side; Bigby, Gren and Malcom tried not to laugh, as he slummed over in pain.
"Its the principle of it, Georgie," replied John. "He IS a Grendel; this is how things are done back at the Homelands."
Georgie didn't question their attempt at delivering a Grendel; he and the others were outside looking for food and a decent looking Pine tree. Carla wanted to decorate the cave for Christmas. The holiday was one of her favorites and although it took some convincing, Gren decided to let her. After all, it was comforting to herself and the baby. While the men were gone, Lyla returned to the city to fetch the quads. Four babies were not a problem to a shewolf, as she transformed and carried the babies. Carla was always taken back by the strength and agility her sister had in her wolf form. She placed each baby on the ground and watched as they interacted with their surroundings. Carla grabbed Emily and snuggled her closely.
"They are growing up so fast," said Carla.
"Yeah. Seemed like just yesterday we found out I was pregnant. Who would have thought, huh? Not just because of the number but WHO it was with."
They both started laughing, just as Katie turned into her wolf form and tackled Penny to the ground; frightened, Junior scuttled his way to Lyla and buried his face in her lap. Lyla picked him up and cradled him against her chest.
"He is so sensitive," said Carla, as she rocked Emily.
"We were so worried about HIM being too much like Georgie but believe it or not, its who YOU are holding that concerns me. Look at that mug. When he has those sour looks, the infamous 'fuck off, I'm pissed off' look, she does the same shit."
Carla leaned over and kissed Emily's face; the baby began thrashing and trying to wipe her face.
"See? Just like him...but I love her just the same..."
Just then, a loud howl echoed inside the cave. Kate was on all fours, head towards the ceiling and letting out tiny, shrieking howls.
Lyla laughed, as Katie jumped into her lap, followed by Penny. Junior continued to hold onto Lyla tight.
"Sshh, Katie, sweetie. Not so loud, baby. Remember what mommy told you?"
Katie smiled, as she covered her mouth. Just then, several more howls could be heard from the distance; both Carla and Lyla laughed. Bigby, Malcom and John were all in wolf form; behind them, Gren and Georgie followed, along with Nancy.
"Did I hear a little wolf puppy just now," replied John, as Katie ran to his side. He licked the top of her head, as Katie began chewing and gnawing on his paw.
"Play with me, papa," begged the pup, as she ran around him. "Play, play, play!"
Carla watched, as Gren and Georgie placed the tree to the side and brush off any remaining snow. With the help from her mother, she slowly walked over to Gren; still holding Emily, who was fast asleep.
"It looks good, Gren," said Carla, as she kissed his cheek. "Its really starting to look like Christmas in here."
Gren grabbed Emily and nuzzled the sleeping child. He pressed his face against her own and in his mind, pictured his own daughter.
"You look good with a baby, Gren."
Gren looked around; what was so terrible about what he saw? Why couldn't Fables and Folkers, mundies and Halfers all just get along? They were all the same; lost in this world and fumbling down the dark halls looking for a way out. He saw no purpose to fight anymore, no desires to start a war with ignorance and individuals that lived their life with eyes closed. He looked down at his fiancee's rapidly growing belly. What was so wrong about this child being born into this world?
In reality, there was an ugly world just outside these cave walls. In time, they would have to face it and confront the truth; take on the Council and Folkers and even the Fables that believed what he was witnessing was a crime and should be dealt with.
But not now. Tonight, he could pretend none of that existed.
It was nice seeing everyone together. For some reason, that was the best part, considering all the things you have put them through. Poor Carla is so close to the due date! I'm hurting just reading this! Good job like always, Pie!
Yes, hopefully it's summer-related! Because I was actually planning to do a summer discussion pertaining to this thread. Summer officially starts on the 21st, so I'm going to hold off on posting it until then. (I still need to think up the challenge anyway)
Yes, hopefully it's summer-related! Because I was actually planning to do a summer discussion pertaining to this thread. Summer officially s… moretarts on the 21st, so I'm going to hold off on posting it until then. (I still need to think up the challenge anyway)
Yes, hopefully it's summer-related! Because I was actually planning to do a summer discussion pertaining to this thread. Summer officially s… moretarts on the 21st, so I'm going to hold off on posting it until then. (I still need to think up the challenge anyway)
“I would be careful though if I were you,” I warned Veronica before we got started. “People underestimate me a lot - they don’t know how strong it can be …”
It would be most bad and humiliating if this woman ended up being a few ashes on the ground like my earlier victims before she’d even taught me something. She seemed so confident when addressing me, maybe a bit too confident. It was suspicious. But there was a calm glow in Veronica’s eyes as she patted me lightly on the head. I managed to give her a wan smile. Then she drew back her hand, frowning.
“Your hair is burning,” she murmured. “Are you nervous, child?”
“I never get nervous,” I bluffed, but I was chewing the skin around my nails as I spoke.
“Don’t do that,” Veronica scolded gently, detaching my hands from my mouth. She glanced down at them, at the ripped skin and red flesh. “You barely have any skin left, and this is coming from the child who just said she never gets nervous.”
I sighed, stubbornly rolling my eyes. “I just don’t want to kill you.”
That made her laugh. “I promise you, dear, that you won’t.”
How could she promise that?
“All right. Look at me now, child.”
I forced myself to look into those huge, staring eyes as clear as moonlight. Does she ever blink? I wondered.
“Now I want you to listen carefully … What makes you angry?”
I blinked.
“Think about it, Lehava. Close your eyes and think.”
I-”
“Close them, Lehava.”
I slowly closed them. And I asked myself: what makes me angry?
My life in the Homelands always makes me furious; I was helpless, helpless to free myself from the abuse for years, and I didn’t have anyone to help me. Grizelda’s spiteful face and callous lies make me spit with rage. Griffon’s words you can’t take care of yourself make me angry, maybe because I know its true. And I can’t stand the rare times Bigby and Snow are mad at me for countless things (despite most of it was Grizelda).
But it was most awful when Fables back away from me, giving me fearful looks, telling themselves that I’m going to hurt them. That makes me angrier the most. Because they’ll never believe that all I want is for them to be my friends.
My eyes began stinging painfully even though I never cry. I started to shake all over.
“Can you feel your rage, Lehava?” Veronica’s voice suddenly sounded so far away. I opened my eyes, but all I could see were sudden flames erupting all around me. They approached me dangerously, hissing, spitting. I slowly stepped back. Something hot suddenly scorched my leg, and I yelped with pain and ended up sprawled across the floor. Thick black smoke filled my mouth and cloaked itself round my lungs.
“There’s … fire everywhere,” I choked out. “It’s so strong … That it’s burning me.”
“It is your doing, Lehava. This is how strong it will get if you keep continuing to let your rage get the better of you.”
Fables suddenly started to appear around me. Flycatcher, Grizelda, Cryer, Tiny Tim, Bigby and Snow … They were burning in the flames, their faces stricken with terror, their skin blackening with burns. My eyes widened with shock.
“Bigby!” I screamed. “Snow!” I tried to run, but a wall of fire blocked me from getting any nearer. I could hear more Fables; screaming in pain, choking, dying all around me. And there was nothing I could do.
What have I done?
“Lehava.” Veronica‘s voice was slowly coming back to me. “This is what will happen. All your friends … They will end up dead.”
Screaming, I clutched my head with my hands. “I don’t want this! I don’t want to kill anyone else!”
“Then think about this. The consequences. Ask yourself if this is what you want.”
“It’s not what I want!” I shrieked. “Make it stop, please!” Lifeless burnt bodies collapsed beneath my feet. I fell on my hands and knees, clutching my head, screaming helplessly. I wanted to stop, but I didn’t know how. It never listened to me. It was like a lion in cage; trapped inside me with a mind of its own.
“Lehava! It’s okay. You’re coming back now …”
An explosion went off in my brain and I was pulled back violently into reality in a sweaty, shaky state. After a few wild moments, everywhere was calm.
I looked around whilst trying to catch my breath. The apartment seemed to still be in a perfect state and there wasn’t so much as a burn on Veronica’s face. I was certain that I just exploded a second ago. What was she doing to my mind?
“I’m sorry to have put those visions on you, child,” Veronica said, seeing the fear in my eyes. “I just had to make you see the consequences of your actions. It will give you something to remember the next time you feel angry.”
I wanted to shout that it sometimes wasn’t my fault - people liked to get under my skin and hurt me. But then I remembered Bigby, Snow and all those other Fables getting burnt alive - and my bottom lip started to tremble.
“Don’t cry, child, you know you mustn’t,” Veronica said - but then her arms went right round me. I buried my face into her soft shoulder, breathing in her strange powdery smell. The visions Veronica showed me were having huge effects; I could still hear the helpless, blood-curdling screams in my ears, feel the fire brushing my arms. ButI sniffed back my tears and put on the brave face I’ve been putting on for most of my life.
Veronica gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“Now, dear, are you ready to continue?”
I gave a tiny, somewhat reluctant nod.
“What makes you happy?”
Happy?
“I” - If I’m being honest, I couldn’t remember the last time I was happy. I didn’t have any reason to be. But I see Mundies that smile, laugh - and I want to know what it feels like.
“Nothing really,” I said lamely.
“Nothing?” she pursued, but before we could continue, her phone suddenly started ringing. Even that was studded with jewels.
“Excuse me for a second,” she said, and went to answer it. “Yes?” she asked with a touch of annoyance in her voice.
I stood there, chewing my fingernails, as she hissed and snapped at the person on the phone. I kept hearing faint yells in my ear, and yet when I shook my head or blinked, they’d come back a lot louder. It sent chills down my spine.
After a few seconds, Veronica put the phone down.
“Sorry about that, Lehava. That was Cindy. She wants to deliver something to me,” Veronica said. “Her shoe shop’s just down the road. Do you want to come?”
Remembering Snow’s words, I shook my head. “I’d better not. I can’t go out into the Mundy streets…”
“Don’t worry about that, Lehava. Nothing will happen whilst I’m there.”
I gave a tiny shrug, still a little unsure.
“Come on then-”
“I-”
Suddenly in the corner of the room, a horrible black burnt figure what had just appeared from nowhere slowly turned its crumbling head to stare at me. Its eyes were dead and yellow. Hissing in a revengeful manner, it started to step across the carpet in me and Veronica’s direction, bits of flaky burnt skin falling off its every move. I stepped back, too frightened to scream. Just as it reached out its horrifying, cindery fingers towards my throat -
“Lehava?”
Veronica was peering at me with her bright blue eyes, concerned. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“I- I - Nothing.” I peered around apprehensively, but the thing was gone.
------ Continued, Part 6
I had to put my trust in her.
“I would be careful though if I were you,” I warned Veronica before we got star… moreted. “People underestimate me a lot - they don’t know how strong it can be …”
It would be most bad and humiliating if this woman ended up being a few ashes on the ground like my earlier victims before she’d even taught me something. She seemed so confident when addressing me, maybe a bit too confident. It was suspicious. But there was a calm glow in Veronica’s eyes as she patted me lightly on the head. I managed to give her a wan smile. Then she drew back her hand, frowning.
“Your hair is burning,” she murmured. “Are you nervous, child?”
“I never get nervous,” I bluffed, but I was chewing the skin around my nails as I spoke.
“Don’t do that,” Veronica scolded gently, detaching my hands from my mouth. She glanced down at them, at the ripped skin and red flesh. “You barely have any skin left, and… [view original content]
A sparrow! Chaise longue! The word 'imbibe'! It's all below.
Chapter Three, Part Two In which the newly appointed Sheriff of Fabletown, Bigby Wolf, does as Miss Snow White of the Business Office asked him, and pays a visit to the Rag-and-Bone Man.
As a gentle breeze pervaded from the ocean on a blue-sky day in New Amsterdam, a Sparrow rested on the gable end of a modest wooden house, lost - if you will believe it - in it's own thought. Of late, it considered, there had been birds the likes of which it had never seen before. Peculiar markings, odd sizes, and the most bizarre dialects made these new arrivals stand out like red poppies in a wheat field. Some of these new birds, it reckoned, aptly mimicked the babbling discord of the creatures below; the creatures that walked upright and had the most impractical of feathers. On mention of the uprights that walked below, the Sparrow's train of thought switched tracks to pursue the realisation that it had noticed a difference in some of those critters, and left the conundrum of the new types of it's species behind; for the species of sparrow can only follow one line of mental inquiry at a time. Which is why they flit about so much.
What was the difference it detected in some of the uprights that walked below? The Sparrow couldn't quite put it's beak on it, other than to say it was sure that they had a certain quality about their beings, a quality which made them seem not of this world. Speaking of something not being of this world, it realised, there were birds of late the likes of which it had never seen before. Peculiar markings, odd sizes -- (here, in the interests of saving ourselves from the noticeable tedium which would come from being subjected to the Sparrow's repetitive speculations, time will be briefly moved forward to the point where the bird's thoughts had come back in a circle, and one of those beings with a quality not quite of this world walked into it's frame of view) -- and here was one now, the Sparrow noticed.
Rising from it's perch, the Sparrow flew down to the pointed roof of a porch, attached to a house that stood on the street down which that strange upright was walking. Though some distance from the muddy avenue along which the object of it's attention moved, the Sparrow could detect something feral in the green-feathered thing, a bestial nature that brought about the notion of a wolf in sheep's clothing. (Our sparrow friend is not entirely aware of what a 'sheep' is, however - for sparrows know them only as 'walking nests' - so such an analogy was only half formed in it's mind. A Wolf then, in some sort of disguise, is what the Sparrow settled on.)
As the Wolf wandered down the street, the Sparrow followed from the safety of the rooftops, intrigued to see what the creature would do in it's nefarious plumage disguise. Attack something, perhaps? That would prove to be a lesson worth watching so as to avoid any similar misfortune, the bird concluded.
The Wolf did not attack a thing however, which made the Sparrow entirely perplexed. The bird's confusion would have been soon resolved if not for a bee which happened to fly past, and catch the Sparrow's attention, causing the bird to give chase. For Sparrow's can only think of one thing at a time, you know.
'Finally', thinks the Sheriff, as he turns in time to see a Sparrow launch itself from a nearby roof in the hunt for a bee. 'Thought the damn thing was going to follow me all day.'
"Sheriff? Is that you?" calls a voice from behind; and while faintly asked, it is received much louder due to the heightened senses of the addressed.
Bigby rotates back to the tall brick house, where from the elevated entrance off the street the face of an aging man can be seen, poking from behind a red door. The Sheriff decides that an amount of discretion would be useful, less the Face accidentally reveal to all nearby - through an act of verification and a much louder voice - that the person in the street is some sort of Sheriff. He didn't, Bigby knew, need another group of people asking him to help with their problems.
To get to the door and the face, a set of steps must be stepped up, and the Sheriff takes these easily in his stride. Wooden steps they are, painted white, and adorned on either end with a plant pot and brightly coloured flowers. A pointed iron fence separates all neighbours at the front on this street, despite every other house being joined in the middle. A welcoming treat of perennial colour to those invited in, and a cold and spiky shoulder to those unwelcome; this was, without a doubt, the more affluent end of New Amsterdam.
At close proximity the Face shows signs of age: deep lines, a slight sagging in places, and a scar here and there. The expression upon it, however, is of convincing vitality, with a knowing smile, a glint in the brown eyes, and a swept-back crop of earth-coloured hair; and there is a fullness to the face that suggests the body thereto attached will not be of entirely modest proportions.
"I knew it as you," the Face says, in an accent that would later find a home in this part of the world.
Bigby, being quite sure of his accuracy, returns with, "Jeremiah Hound. Otherwise known as 'The Rag-and-Bone Man.'" The grin on the Face stretches more and becomes a knowing smile; the door is noiselessly flung open and a well-rounded form ably fills the frame.
A moss-green suit is what Jeremiah Hound wears, with polished black and heeled shoes - as is the style of the time,- mauve waistcoat, and a silver pocket watch. The latter is deducible due to a chain which runs across the waistcoat beneath the unbuttoned suit jacket. Arms outstretched, Jeremiah gives out a hearty "Bigby!"
Bigby's eyes widen ever-so-slightly at such an unexpected welcome, and at the confusion of what it is the man in front of him is attempting to do. Then it metaphorically hits him:
"Oh no," the Sheriff realises internally. "He wants a hug."
"Come on! Don't leave a man waiting," says Jeremiah, with a feigned look of shock at the notion of his particularly friendly greeting being rebuffed.
"Erm... just... ... No."
"Pff," comes the reply, with a look of abject disappointment upon the passionate face. An expression that might have persuaded those of a more affectionate nature to rethink their denying of hugging reciprocation, however this is the Big Bad Wolf, and he sticks to his choice.
"You might as well come in then, you boring sod. I won't conduct business standing at my doorstep."
Bigby Wolf is far more comfortable with this invitation, and he accepts.
Entering through the red door, Bigby is hit by an overpowering scent, a combination in smell of stale and chemical proportions. The odour is initially too strong for the Wolf, and he cannot help but thrust his head back outside for a resuscitating gasp of fresh air.
"Let me guess," says Jeremiah as he notices this effect, "it's the mothballs, isn't it?"
"Must be," replies Bigby, while wincing. "Mind if I smoke?" "I do. However, seeing as it would surely be unbeneficial to deny you, the Sheriff of all people" - Jeremiah gives Bigby a wink and a nod at this moment, for reasons which are simply baffling - "I will allow it."
"Thanks," comes a very flat reply from the Sheriff, who has quickly grown tired of Jeremiah's theatrics. Bigby then proceeds to remove a small and worn leather case from an inside pocket of his coat, and takes out of it a cigar. Placing it in his mouth, he enjoys the crisp ripping sound of a match being lit, and inhales appreciatively the grey cloud that begins to emanate from the cigar.
After Bigby has finished this routine Jeremiah informs him to close the door, and beckons his guest into his splendid living room. It is splendid, reader, because the room happily fits into the category of appearing small from the perspective of the street, and yet being big when one is inside it. The choice of furnishings also enhance the enchanting atmosphere of the place, with rich and colourful carpets, grand timepieces, ornate paintings in gold-plated frames, two chaise longue, and even a suit of arms that looks entirely out of place guarding a turquoise vase brimming with white hibiscus. Having walls of a deep red shade, the finishing touch of a golden candelabra hanging from the ceiling means that visitors are either put under the spell of the room, or are offended by such a level of garish opulence. Sheriff Bigby Wolf could be firmly placed in this latter category, not least because he used to eat people who enjoyed such living as this.
"Let's sit by the fire," directs Jeremiah, where two high-backed and well-padded chairs are already placed, with a small table between them.
Bigby sits, grateful for not having to deal with an unwieldy chaise, and notes the unlit fire to have a surround made of white marble, into which trees and plants native to the Homelands are carved. Jeremiah, who had momentarily gone behind Bigby to retrieve two glasses containing peat-hued alcohol, sits down opposite his guest and places the glasses onto the aforementioned table.
Unbuttoning his waistcoat, Jeremiah simply asks, "What can I do for you, Sheriff?"
Bigby, while puffing away on the cigar and mentally deliberating whether or not he should have a drink on a formal visit, begins succinctly. "The Business Office is in need of your assistance, Mr Hound." The Sheriff expects some sort of entreaty from his host along the lines of, 'please, call me Jeremiah,' yet surprisingly, none is given.
"And what would that business be?"
"Assistance in moving some of the refugees that are coming out of the Homelands."
"Ahh, those poor things," responds Jeremiah, with a chord of sorrow in his voice. "I will help them in any possible way, of course."
"You may regret saying that," says the Sheriff, who then leans a little forward in his seat. "The thing is, it isn't the ones that are alive who you will be helping. It's the dead ones."
Jeremiah at first appears bewildered by the information; this then transforms into something close to resembling anger.
"Just what is it that you think I do, Mister Wolf, that makes you presuppose I would be the person best suited to what sounds like a particularly morbid and horrible task?"
The Sheriff takes on a conciliatory tone and answers: "As the Business Office understands it" - Bigby is keen here to clearly demonstrate that it is not he alone who has decided upon this request, though he actively chooses to not directly reference Miss White - "your line of work involves the collecting of many varied items. Many ways and means of doing this you have - of being able to move the largest and most awkward of objects with ease and, at times, secrecy. This is what is being asked of you now.
"You see, many are coming through the gate from the Homelands in a vary bad way, and due to the lack of Mundy belief, or interest in them, they are succumbing to their wounds. Fabletown therefore has the question of what to do with the deceased - placing them in Mundy grave sites would look too suspicious seeing as we don't really talk to the Mundies. Burying them in our own sites would be fine, if not for the Mundies again, who are rapidly expanding and would surely uncover the bodies and skeletons before they've had time to turn to dust, as it what happens when there is no more belief for them."
"I do not like this, Sheriff. I do not like this at all."
"I didn't want to ask. Fabletown would be indebted to you," is Bigby's attempt at offering some sort of condolence, though all it achieves is a withering glare from person to whom it was directed.
"I am a respected person, Sheriff. I have always prided myself on avoiding the dead at all turns, and I do not wish for any sort of connection between myself and any macabre business. Is there no way out of this?"
"It would seem not. Sorry."
An unwilling resignation seems to Jeremiah the only course left, if he wishes his life to remain mostly as it is. A relative safety, he feels, is what Fabletown offers. He downs the dark drink, enjoying the burn in his throat, and keeps the glass in his hand. "And how am I to acquire these... bodies?"
The Sheriff is relieved that his host seems to have accepted the situation, and allows himself to relax a little into the chair. "I suspect that will be my job. A few bodies at a time can be stored in our building - we can halt the decomposing with magic - and I will call upon you when there is no more space."
"Where am I to take them?"
"That's up to you. The Office says that further inland - somewhere particularly remote - or out to sea will do."
"I've heard rumours of a new place being built for animal Fables. The Farm, I think?" The Sheriff nods.
"Could I not dispose of them there?"
"I suspect not. Don't want more of the feral Fables digging them up."
'Fables akin to yourself, you mean,' scorns Jeremiah, though he has the sense not to say it aloud.
A moments silence passes; some of the timepieces are audibly sounding rythmic ticks and tocks, and the suit of arms remains on a stern guard. Bigby can sense an unease in the man opposite him, notes the lack of a youthful smile and the white knuckles of the hand grasping the glass. Then the relative silence is broken, as Jeremiah lowers his head: "Very well, Sheriff. I will do as you ask."
The Sheriff stands up, pleased to have reached the end of his stay. "Like I said, Fabletown will be indebted to you. It won't be forgotten at the Business Office, I'm sure."
"Indeed. By the way, do tell Miss White that if she has any other request to ask of me, she should at least deign to do so in person." There is notable resentment lurking in this statement.
"I'm sure you can find the way out, Gaffer Wolf." Mr Hound does not raise his head and the Sheriff says a thank you, and takes his leave.
After hearing his front door close, Jeremiah inspects the room around him while remaining in his chair. Honesty is what he'd built his business and reputation upon, and he'd stuck to that even in the hardest of times. What he was being asked to do was still honest, yet he knew that that honesty would be overshadowed by the vilification and disdain that many Fables would heap on him. How long would this task of his last for, and just what would be his life by the end of it? Noticing the drink meant for the Sheriff is still present, he imbibes that one too.
Outside, as Bigby returns to the street, a Sparrow can be seen landing on a nearby hedge, with the look of utmost perplexion upon it's features.
I don't think this one is my best, however I'd really like to finish this story and possibly try something new. Therefore, I'm content that this moves things on. Somewhat.
Got it. Tell you what, if you really feel like sharing it right now, then go for it. I'll just consider your Halloween chapter to be a very early submission when October comes. I'll be sure to make a note somewhere to include it for the October F.S.A., sound good?
Wow, these chapters are getting better and better. Again, so much textual talent is being shown here! I really need to get crackin' on the rest of the storyteller awards, while I add in the finishing touches to the summer challenge as well. All of you are amazing, just had to let you guys know.
GUYS, GUYS LOOK! I died for awhile but then i came back to life! So i wrote more about Wilhelm! But it ain't centered around Wilhelm! Well it kind of is but there are more OC's in it too! Sorry about dieing on you, i had a rather busy summer as of late, and it only will get more busy in the next few weeks. So i hope you enjoy this story! Will is happy to be back!
September - 6 – 1980
12:45 AM
Central park
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Look, im sorry but I don’t have the money!”
The blond haired man growled in annoyance. His hair tied back, wearing dark pants with a white somewhat creased t-shirt. The other man, Shorter in stature, simply stared at the flustered blond with calm yet eerie eyes.
“Jack, We went over this, You don’t have the money. I take the necklace and be on my merry way..”
The dark haired man took a drag from his half burned cigarette. He exhaled calmly, giving the younger man a smirk.
“Don’t make this hard on me jack. I like you, I do. But I have my profession to think about here.”
“Will, Buddy. I’m working my ass off here! Bigby has been at my back for the past few days. I haven’t got the chance to making any cash!”
Jack ran his hand through his gold hair and sighed. The other man frowned slightly and shook his head in disappointment.
“Bigby is not my concern” The dark haired man set his deep green eyes into Jacks blue ones. “All I care about is getting that fucking money? Do you hear me jack? If I don’t get it by this Monday, Bigby ain’t gonna be the only thing you have to worry about…” He growled, His eyes showing a hint of purple and black.
Jacks eyes widened and he stepped back slightly. He looked down at the ground and paused. The darkness of the night made the shorter man’s green now purple eyes shine.
“Ok, Wilhelm.. I’ll have your money..” He said without looking into Wilhelm’s cursed eyes.
“Good, I’ll see you then, Jackie boy” Will strolled past jack, as he did, he patted him on the back.
Jack quickly turned, but he was gone. Like the shadow he was. Jack cursed to himself, rubbing his face as he did. He would normally talk he was out of situation like this, Think of some lavish excuse to at least get him more time then a few days. Every time he tried to think of something to say to Wilhelm, he mind went blank. His mind became clouded, every time he looked into those dark green eyes; some sort of darkness consumed his mind. Jack shook his head and walked back to his apartment, hoping he would get some sort of sleep tonight. He had a lot of work to do.
September – 9 - 1980
1:15 PM
Sheriff’s Office.
Being sheriff is not as easy as those shitty western movies make it to be. Especially since you have to keep everyone from killing each other, Not to mention that nearly most of the population of this god forsaken town hate you.
Bigby sighed as he pulled another cigarette from his “all but famous” Huff and Puff. He lit it and took a long drag, he glanced down to the paperwork that still needed to be done. His office was small, but that was ok. He didn’t want some huge ass office. Unlike some people, mainly Crane. Bigby kept looking at the papers, it’s not like they’re going to magically write themselves. Oh well, Can’t help but try.
Bigby stood up, stretching his back and arms. He had been stuck doing this shit for hours now. A break couldn’t hurt. He quickly left his office and walked towards the business office. He could hear someone shouting on the other side of the door, Crane…. He growled to himself.
He opened the door to see a young girl, looked about 18-20 being yelled at by the exact guy Bigby expected. He frowned, walking over he could hear what Crane was on about.
“Miss. Brennan! I have made my point clear, Now leave. I have more important matters to attend to.” Crane growled at the short dark haired woman.
“Look, all I want is a glamour and the I will be out of your hair.” Her strong Irish accent was kind of hard to understand but not impossible.
“No, Miss. Brennan. If you don’t have the money to get a glamour then he shall go to the farm! Now that is that. End of discussion.” With that Crane quickly walked towards the door to leave the Business office.
“Sheriff…” He growled as he left.
“Crane..” Bigby replied.
Bigby watched at Crane left. He scoffed at the man, he turned to look at the girl. She was looked rather angry.
“Fuckin’ cunt..” She growled, Her blue eyes darkened.
“So, What the hell was that all about?” The older male asked as he walked towards her. She looked at bigby with surprised eyes.
“Sheriff? Whatcha doin’ here?” She asked.
“Well I do work here, and I really should be asking you that.” He replied as he exhaled some smoke.
“Oh, Just tryin’ to get a friend of mine some glamour..” She sighed.
“Hm? Who is this friend? Also, I haven’t seen you around here before…Wait? How do you know who I am?”He looked at her with wary eyes. She chuckled at this.
“Well, Me and my friend just got here a few days ago, I’m tryin’ to get him a glamour since he doesn’t look that human.. The names Aine Brennan. Well you are the Big Bad Wolf, Everyone knows who ye are.” She said, her blue eyes almost looked dead. Her frighteningly pale skin didn’t help.
“Aine Brennan… Haven’t heard of you.” Bigby looked at her trying to place her.
“Naw, I’m a Banshee, There’s a few of us. Most of them are in Ireland right now.” She pushed some of her raven black hair behind her ear. Here hair was pretty long, down to her knees. Not as long as Rapunzel’s but still long.
“A banshee? Haven’t seen any off those since the homelands” Bigby leaned against cranes desk.
“As I said, there in Ireland but there’s not a lot of us left.” She sighed sadly.
“Oh, Eh Im sorr-“
“Hm? Bigby?” Snow walked into the business office, she looked at bigby questionably and then at Aine.
“Oh, Hello Snow. “ He gave her a small smile.
“Ah, Good afternoon bigby, Ah, Aine, I have your documents here. Once you fill this form you can get Aiden’s Horse.”
“Great, he’ll be delighted. He’s missed the big fella.”
“Well you do realize you do need to get a glamour for him.” Snow replied.
“Oh, don’t worry. He can turn into a bike or car, anything that you can ride.”
“Ok, Good.”
Aine walked over to Snows desk and looked over the form.
“Why exactly can’t Aiden come pick up his horse?” Bigby asked.
“Well we’re still working on getting a glamour for him..”
Bigby was about to question her farther when Jack quickly ran into the room. He looked out of breath and like he got into a fight.
“Jack? What happened?” Snow asked as she quickly walked towards him.
“Well..eh…. I kind of pissed off someone….” He said quietly.
Bigby’s eyes narrowed, He walked over to jack. “Who didn’t you piss off this time, Jack?” He asked.
“Erm….Well…..Wilhelm…” He answered quietly as he looked down at the ground.
What…….No…How did he? Bigby asked himself in shock.
To be continued…..
Sorry its kind of short, I am really tired right now so i didn't make it longer :P
GUYS, GUYS LOOK! I died for awhile but then i came back to life! So i wrote more about Wilhelm! But it ain't centered around Wilhelm! Well i… moret kind of is but there are more OC's in it too! Sorry about dieing on you, i had a rather busy summer as of late, and it only will get more busy in the next few weeks. So i hope you enjoy this story! Will is happy to be back!
September - 6 – 1980
12:45 AM
Central park
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Look, im sorry but I don’t have the money!”
The blond haired man growled in annoyance. His hair tied back, wearing dark pants with a white somewhat creased t-shirt. The other man, Shorter in stature, simply stared at the flustered blond with calm yet eerie eyes.
“Jack, We went over this, You don’t have the money. I take the necklace and be on my merry way..”
The dark haired man took a drag from his half burned cigarette. He exhaled calmly, giving the younger man a smirk.
“Don’t make this hard on me jack. … [view original content]
Interesting. Taking a common phrase and tying an actual Fable to it, that's creative. Won't always work, though. I really loved the tension you created between Bigby and his host. I also like the personality you decided to give to Jeremiah, and the vast, quick change in his demeanor, from generous host to offended and revolted, is believable. I can't imagine Bigby's position as glorified errand boy and top enforcer would have him keeping what few friends he had from the Homelands after settling in Fabletown.
A sparrow! Chaise longue! The word 'imbibe'! It's all below.
Chapter Three, Part Two
In which the newly appointed Sheriff of Fabletown,… more Bigby Wolf, does as Miss Snow White of the Business Office asked him, and pays a visit to the Rag-and-Bone Man.
As a gentle breeze pervaded from the ocean on a blue-sky day in New Amsterdam, a Sparrow rested on the gable end of a modest wooden house, lost - if you will believe it - in it's own thought. Of late, it considered, there had been birds the likes of which it had never seen before. Peculiar markings, odd sizes, and the most bizarre dialects made these new arrivals stand out like red poppies in a wheat field. Some of these new birds, it reckoned, aptly mimicked the babbling discord of the creatures below; the creatures that walked upright and had the most impractical of feathers. On mention of the uprights that walked below, the Sparrow's train of thought switched tracks to pursue the realisat… [view original content]
...Are we to assume the horse is one of the talking Fables? If so, can't he just be glamoured as a man? Grendel's huge, and space doesn't seem to be an issue when glamouring him and Holly to appear human... If the horse can't talk, then why would it need to be glamoured?
GUYS, GUYS LOOK! I died for awhile but then i came back to life! So i wrote more about Wilhelm! But it ain't centered around Wilhelm! Well i… moret kind of is but there are more OC's in it too! Sorry about dieing on you, i had a rather busy summer as of late, and it only will get more busy in the next few weeks. So i hope you enjoy this story! Will is happy to be back!
September - 6 – 1980
12:45 AM
Central park
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Look, im sorry but I don’t have the money!”
The blond haired man growled in annoyance. His hair tied back, wearing dark pants with a white somewhat creased t-shirt. The other man, Shorter in stature, simply stared at the flustered blond with calm yet eerie eyes.
“Jack, We went over this, You don’t have the money. I take the necklace and be on my merry way..”
The dark haired man took a drag from his half burned cigarette. He exhaled calmly, giving the younger man a smirk.
“Don’t make this hard on me jack. … [view original content]
GUYS, GUYS LOOK! I died for awhile but then i came back to life! So i wrote more about Wilhelm! But it ain't centered around Wilhelm! Well i… moret kind of is but there are more OC's in it too! Sorry about dieing on you, i had a rather busy summer as of late, and it only will get more busy in the next few weeks. So i hope you enjoy this story! Will is happy to be back!
September - 6 – 1980
12:45 AM
Central park
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Look, im sorry but I don’t have the money!”
The blond haired man growled in annoyance. His hair tied back, wearing dark pants with a white somewhat creased t-shirt. The other man, Shorter in stature, simply stared at the flustered blond with calm yet eerie eyes.
“Jack, We went over this, You don’t have the money. I take the necklace and be on my merry way..”
The dark haired man took a drag from his half burned cigarette. He exhaled calmly, giving the younger man a smirk.
“Don’t make this hard on me jack. … [view original content]
Aiden needs his horse, Its kind of apart of him. Well they are in the middle of a city, You wouldn't see a random horse just walking around XD I will explain more in part 2. Also He doesn't look like a normal horse.
...Are we to assume the horse is one of the talking Fables? If so, can't he just be glamoured as a man? Grendel's huge, and space doesn't se… moreem to be an issue when glamouring him and Holly to appear human... If the horse can't talk, then why would it need to be glamoured?
Well, ok. But you can ride horses on the streets in most US cities, with some exceptions, and they even have the right of way. He could be glamoured to look like a normal horse. That would probably be much cheaper than going with a vehicle.
Aiden needs his horse, Its kind of apart of him. Well they are in the middle of a city, You wouldn't see a random horse just walking around XD I will explain more in part 2. Also He doesn't look like a normal horse.
Hmm, Thank you! You just gave me an idea for Aiden! I also got the vehicle idea from the anime Durarara, there is a character that has a horse that can turn into a motorbike.
Well, ok. But you can ride horses on the streets in most US cities, with some exceptions, and they even have the right of way. He could be glamoured to look like a normal horse. That would probably be much cheaper than going with a vehicle.
I wanted to try and make a character in a style in-keeping with the Fables universe, which is pretty much how it came about. I'm glad you like Jeremiah's personality and that's it's believable. Do you have plans to continue with Tod?
Interesting. Taking a common phrase and tying an actual Fable to it, that's creative. Won't always work, though. I really loved the tension … moreyou created between Bigby and his host. I also like the personality you decided to give to Jeremiah, and the vast, quick change in his demeanor, from generous host to offended and revolted, is believable. I can't imagine Bigby's position as glorified errand boy and top enforcer would have him keeping what few friends he had from the Homelands after settling in Fabletown.
GUYS, GUYS LOOK! I died for awhile but then i came back to life! So i wrote more about Wilhelm! But it ain't centered around Wilhelm! Well i… moret kind of is but there are more OC's in it too! Sorry about dieing on you, i had a rather busy summer as of late, and it only will get more busy in the next few weeks. So i hope you enjoy this story! Will is happy to be back!
September - 6 – 1980
12:45 AM
Central park
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Look, im sorry but I don’t have the money!”
The blond haired man growled in annoyance. His hair tied back, wearing dark pants with a white somewhat creased t-shirt. The other man, Shorter in stature, simply stared at the flustered blond with calm yet eerie eyes.
“Jack, We went over this, You don’t have the money. I take the necklace and be on my merry way..”
The dark haired man took a drag from his half burned cigarette. He exhaled calmly, giving the younger man a smirk.
“Don’t make this hard on me jack. … [view original content]
"We are at war here, Bigby! I need to know what you plan-what WE have planned-for this."
"They want to fight so badly and 'defend' what they think is right. So be it..."
"Is that the final decision? I need to know...."
"Yes, Snow. It's my final decision...."
"So be it"
Gren was surprised to find Carla up so early; she was standing in the snow, looking out towards the dark, quiet forest. She had her eyes closed; the cool, refreshing flakes falling gently against her face. He didn't say a word, as he carefully watched.
Inside the cave, John and Bigby began preparing a Christmas meal. Snow, Nancy, Lyla, Gina and Mary were busy tending to the simple decorations for the small, elegant tree the boys helped bring in. The quads were busy playing on the ground; tinsel and wrapping paper became their favorite play toy at that moment.
"Why the fuck are we doing it here," complained Georgie, as he tightly wrapped his jacket up. "It's cold, the quads might get sick and all this shit is-"
Lyla managed to throw a turnip in his direction; the vegetable bounced off his head and landed at the entrance. As he rubbed the sore spot, Lyla spoke.
"Watch the language, Georgie," replied Lyla, as she continued wrapping gifts. "Plus, we are doing this for Carla AND Gren. She really is in no condition to go very far, sweetie...."
Georgie began mumbling to himself, as he sat beside Lyla and began helping with the gifts.
"I actually am enjoying this," said Snow, as she tapped up the corners. "This reminds me of the homelands. This is nice. Away from the city and noise, surrounded by family and friends."
The cave was washed over by silence; Bigby and John stopped what they were doing and had their heads cocked to the side. Both the giant wolves were half changed; they could hear noise outside and knew it was not Gren or Carla. Nancy noticed their odd behavior.
"John. Bigby. What is it?"
Bigby began growling, as John walked to the cave entrance; he was prepared to fight who ever was out there. Now that there was a war, any little noise was a concern. The Council had troops all over the city and forest; some were even scattered all over the states. When Bigby noticed who it was, he stopped; Jersey walked inside, brushed some snow off and dropped off a large gift.
"Fuck, Jersey," yelled John, returning to his human form. "The hell is wrong with you!? Say something!"
"Well, I'm here," Jersey said sarcastically. "And beside, who else walks over rooftops and shrieks like that, huh? You outta' know this, wolf! Your kind and Nancy's kind have been after me for over a hundred years."
The beast walked over to the quads; Junior hid behind Lyla, as Katie stumbled to his side. He lifted the child and as he held her up high, the wolf pup began chewing and playing with one of his antlers. Jersey laughed, as Katie began growling and digging her tiny fangs deeper.
"For fucks sake," mumbled Georgie, as he stood up. "Kathrine, stop doing that, love. Don't think Jersey appreciates you using him as a chew toy..."
"Nah, it's a'rite, Georgie," replied Jersey, laughing. "This kid, though-she's got some fuckin' teeth in this mouth. She's too cute, though. Reminds me of those fuckin' dogs the mundies feel the need to carry in their purses."
Soon, Gren and Carla were back inside the cave; everyone could see the struggles she took to walk. With the help of Gren and Gina, Carla leaned into the nest and tried finding a comfortable spot. John offered her some food that was ready to eat. Carla took the plate and devoured the Turkey and Ham dinner; sweet potatoes and Green bean casserole flying in various directions.
"How are you feeling, sis," asked Gina, as she touched her belly. It was very rigid when she touched it. Although her lower abdomen was softer, the cocoon was still there. It had been six months; Gina was beginning to think Carla was due a lot sooner then Swineheart said. She may have been human but that was a Grendel baby; things were different.
"Hungry," replied Carla, as she chewed on a turkey bone. "Very hungry and hurting so fucking much!"
"Carla!"
"Oh, sorry mom...."
"Look," continued Nancy. "I will let that slide but you really need to relax, dear and try to take it easy."
Gina also noticed Gren's eyes; they were more focused and alert. He never left her side, even as she went outside for a brief moment to get some air. They were watching her; he didn't have to go outside. But he insisted; why would she argue with a Grendel anyways? Yes, they were on high alert due to the Council but there was no immediate threat between them. She had to ask him something.
"Gren, can I ask you something outside?"
"Everything okay, Gina?"
"Yes, just really quick..."
She turned into a large brown wolf, as she walked outside. The snow flakes had eased to a few falling from the sky; the thick, cold powder made it difficult for Gina to walk, even with enormous paws as she had. Gren stood before her; she was still taken back by his size.
"What is it, Gina?"
"She's going into labor soon, isn't she Gren? The book...the book mentioned Grendel babies are born after 6 months, even 7. She IS 6 months today, Gren. That...she looks like she might go into..."
The beast turned away; Carla could see the worry on his face, the concern brewing in his eyes.
"Why didn't Swineheart tell us this? We are all thinking she-"
"You try telling a mundy she will deliver not just a boulder but so quick and without warning. Grendel babies are born when THEY are ready; she could be fast asleep and the sudden urge to push will be so overwhelming, her body can go into shock."
"Won't that make it worse, though? I mean, she has no idea..."
"Yes, she does."
"HOW!?"
"Carla has read all those books, every chapter, every detail. She KNOWS about the early delivery; why do you think she has been trying to remain calm, so relaxed? Why do you think she goes outside and just stands there? It relaxes her; calms her nerves, which allows Rosie to move down and not cause too much stress on either of them. I follow her, just in case..."
"Fuck, Gren...fuck..."
Gina turned her massive head; the wind picking up and blowing through her fur. The mighty wolf inhaled the sweet air and didn't say another word, as she turned to head back into the cave. Before she walked inside, she finally spoke.
"Swear, you Fables..."
Gren laughed, as Gina playfully nipped at his feet.
The early evening was spent opening gifts and enjoying a plentiful bounty of a variety of meals. They had the usual; Turkey, Ham, sweet potatoes. Then, a few dishes of Pheasant, Rabbit and Fish; the last dish was mostly for Carla and Gren. The snow outside began picking up. Carla looked over and noticed all but one of the quads were asleep; Miss Katie was too busy placing ribbons and tinsel in Jersey's antlers. Georgie and Lyla were cuddled in the corner; she tried not to laugh, as he was fighting to stay awake.
John, Bigby and Malcom were outside; all but John was smoking and drinking a beer. Nancy and her sisters began cleaning up; Carla assured them it would get done but they refused. Why argue with her, thought Carla. She watched the fire dance along the ornaments; it glistened and twinkled, the the colorful balls twirled and danced against the wind. This all brought back nothing but good memories; she could remember doing all of this when she was a little girl. Now, she had a chance with her own, as she touched her belly.
Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in her lower abdomen. She doubled over and clutched both sides; she could feel Rosie moving down quickly. Gren noticed her actions and began shouting for the others. Nancy was on the phone with Swineheart, as Gren and her sisters helped lay her down. John and the others rushed in; Snow began boiling some water and gathering some towels.
"OH fuck," moaned Carla, as Gren rubbed her lower back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! UGGHH! FUCK!"
Snow grabbed a cup and crushed some berried inside and mixed it with spring water. She gave the mixture to Carla; she could see the baby kicking now, the cocoon softening up. Snow was prepared.
Gren snatched Carla's hand into his and waited; waited for Swineheart, waited for her next move, for anything.
I loved it! Can I take a guess on something...I THINK I know why Jersey is always there. This was short but to the point. The next one seems like the end for this section! Which means on to the next! Saw they have a summer theme going on. Are you doing it Good job like always, Pie!
Chapter 34
"Things change"
"We have to talk, Bigby."
"About the current situation?"
"We are at war here, Bigby! I need to know w… morehat you plan-what WE have planned-for this."
"They want to fight so badly and 'defend' what they think is right. So be it..."
"Is that the final decision? I need to know...."
"Yes, Snow. It's my final decision...."
"So be it"
Gren was surprised to find Carla up so early; she was standing in the snow, looking out towards the dark, quiet forest. She had her eyes closed; the cool, refreshing flakes falling gently against her face. He didn't say a word, as he carefully watched.
Inside the cave, John and Bigby began preparing a Christmas meal. Snow, Nancy, Lyla, Gina and Mary were busy tending to the simple decorations for the small, elegant tree the boys helped bring in. The quads were busy playing on the ground; tinsel and wrapping paper became their favorite play toy at that moment.
"Wh… [view original content]
Ok, so yeah. Let's try this again! Damn thing erased EVERYTHING the 1st time; hopefully, the 2nd one is a go. This will be the end for Gren and Carla. They will return in the future but for now, I must end it here. Thank you to all that stayed on Carla and Gren's journey with me. Next Fable tale will be up shortly.
Enjoy.
Swineheart urged Carla to push; she leaned down, began breathing and tried forcing Rosie out. Nancy stood beside her, trying to wipe the sweat from her brow. Snow Whit was currently holding her hand; this was all the assurance she could do at the moment. Her father and Bigby were outside; she could smell the infamous huff n' puff smoke entering the cave. Gren, however, continued to sit by her side; he had his right hand entangled in her hair, twirling it with his claw and pulling at the end. This was relaxing Carla.
"Take a minute," replied Swinheart, as he lifted her right leg up. "Breathe and on the count of ten, I need you to push for me again."
The severe discomfort in her lower back was making it hard to concentrate; she could feel Rosie making her way down, the cocoon still hard as a rock. When Swineheart reached ten, Carla inhaled and began pushing again; the agony against her tender body was too overwhelming and she slumped over and began gasping. Gren quickly stood up and pushed her body upright. He kissed her head, as Lyla began preparing the water for boiling.
"Just relax, Carla," continued Swineheart. "I need you to relax and try not to cause too much stress-"
"Relax? Relax? RELAX!? I'd like to see YOU push a boulder out of your vagina and let me see how 'relaxed' you can get!"
Georgie began to chuckle; it wasn't the pain or the situation but the nervous looks everyone had on their face. He continued to play with Emily and Katie; Junior and Penny were sound asleep. They were too little to understand what was taking place anyways.
Carla tried to readjust; Rosie was moving down at a rapid pace and she began to wonder when the numbing sensation would kick in. Snow continued to squeeze her hand.
"You are doing great, Carla," mumbled Snow. "Just, breathe and go slow..."
The numbing sensation finally kicked in; Carla could feel an euphoria surrounding her body and soul. She sunk deeper into the water; the urge to kill Gren had subsided for now and without hesitation, she began to push. Gina and Mary brought out several towels as Lyla brought the boiling water to Swineheart. He took a rag and dipped it in the water; he rung it out and placed the warm cloth on Carla's belly.
"To relax the baby," replied Swineheart. "She needs constant stimulation and warmth."
The torment returned to Carla once more; her lower back twinged, as she felt another sharp pain. She screamed in agony; Gren tried to hold her back and calm her but it was too much. Nancy noticed fast amounts of blood pouring into the water; she began to panic, as Swineheart tried to reason with Carla.
"PLEASE! PLEASE! Why is it no longer numb!? I can fell her moving, I can FEEL her body making its way down! Help me, Swineheart-TAKE HER OUT! NO MORE!"
"Carla, stop," demanded Swineheart, as he lifted her legs up and propped them on the sides. "I need you to focus and push, okay? You are causing too much stress on the birthing process. I'm going to count to three; when I reach the number, I need you to push down."
"THIS....IS....YOUR FAULT," hissed Carla, as she began hitting Gren. "YOUR FAULT!!!!"
When the doctor reached three, Carla pushed down; all she could think about was her baby, as she closed her eyes and continued to ignore the pain. The numbing sensation came and went but was not enough to help her situation; her damn mundy blood was too strong and only getting in the way.
"I see the head," replied Swineheart. "Come on, Carla....couple more..."
The cave was soon filled with Carla's painful screams; Lyla had a towel ready, as she looked over and saw her father and Bigby. With one last push, Rosie was out and soon, the cave was filled with her growls and crying. Gren ran over to the doctor's side and helped him clean the baby and cut the cord. Carla leaned back and closed her eyes; Snow still holding her hand, as Nancy poured cool water over her face.
"You did it, Carla," whispered Snow. "She is here...."
Carla opened her eyes; she watched Gren snuggle the baby close to his face. He walked over to Carla's side and placed the baby onto her chest. She looked identical to Gren; same eye color, body structure, skin texture and the scar on the same eye. The only difference were the hands and feet; female Grendels had four toes, as the males only had three. She cradled the baby against her chest, as she watched Rosie worm her way and latch onto her right breast. She stroked the baby's head, as she nursed and closed her eyes.
"My Rosie," whispered Carla. "God, the shit mommy had to do..."
Gren laughed, as he kissed her forehead.
"You did good, Carla. She is perfect."
Snow, however, looked concerned and Carla instantly noticed it.
"Everything okay, Snow," she asked. "You look...worried..."
"She's going to need a glamour, Carla," replied Snow. "She can't-you two can't return until she is glamoured."
"You're going to fucking bring this shit up now," growled Gren. "We KNOW about the fuckin' glamour, alright? I don't think NOW is the time..."
"Stop, Gren," Carla said, as she grabbed his hand. "Just, don't. Not now...we will get on it, Snow. Trust me...me have one set up for her."
Carla wanted to drop the subject; right now, she was focused on her nursing baby. She continued stroking her back, while everyone surrounded them, to simply catch a glimpse at the baby.
Gren awoke the next morning to the eerie silence of the cave. Carla was nowhere to be found; the nest was empty and Rosie was gone. Gren leaped up into the air and dashed out into the snow. The air was frigid and heavy, as he pushed his way through the thick layer of snow. He pushed back several branches and tore down a few trees; his heart was racing and he began to panic.
"CARLA," he shouted into the air. "CARLA! CARLA!!"
The beast began to worry; he could feel the worry and anguish building up inside, the need to cry and scream into the air. He noticed several squirrels dodge into the trees; several deer perked their heads up from a bare meadow near by. But there was no sign of Carla or Rosie.
"CARLA! CARLA!!!"
Suddenly, Gren heard the faint reply from a woman; he ran to the banks and found Carla cradling Rosie; she was wrapped in an animal skin, as Rosie was bundled beneath her.
"Carla-"
"I'm sorry, sweetie. Rosie was fussy this morning and you looked so peaceful, that I took her out her to see the world...see the beauty."
Gren relaxed, as he wrapped his massive arms around Carla. Rosie began to kick and coo when she saw Gren. He leaned down and kissed his daughter's forehead; the baby reaching up to grab his face.
"I wanted Rosie to see your world..."
Gren smiled, as he leaned his face against Carla's ear. She closed her eyes and pressed herself against his chest.
"Close your eyes," he whispered in Carla's ear. "I want you to see what I see every time I come out here..."
Carla closed her eyes; the sun was above, shining down onto a large Mere and a green meadow; the flowers danced with the wind, as she watched Gren and Rosie play in the tall grass. Birds flew up ahead; tiny creatures ran from the two giant beasts running down the hill. They were not glamoured; she sighed, as she watched them play freely into the afternoon, without a care in the world. Gren too, saw everything Carla did.
For a moment, they were back in the Homelands. They knew eventually what would be waiting back home; the city, glamours and possibly the Council prepared to fight. The world behind them was ugly and sadly, their daughter would witness it everyday. But not now; today, she would be beside her and Gren, standing in his world.
She held Rosie close against her and Gren and continued to close their eyes and picture his world.
Chapter 35
"Rosie"
Ok, so yeah. Let's try this again! Damn thing erased EVERYTHING the 1st time; hopefully, the 2nd one is a go. … moreThis will be the end for Gren and Carla. They will return in the future but for now, I must end it here. Thank you to all that stayed on Carla and Gren's journey with me. Next Fable tale will be up shortly.
Enjoy.
Swineheart urged Carla to push; she leaned down, began breathing and tried forcing Rosie out. Nancy stood beside her, trying to wipe the sweat from her brow. Snow Whit was currently holding her hand; this was all the assurance she could do at the moment. Her father and Bigby were outside; she could smell the infamous huff n' puff smoke entering the cave. Gren, however, continued to sit by her side; he had his right hand entangled in her hair, twirling it with his claw and pulling at the end. This was relaxing Carla.
"Take a minute," replied Swinheart, as he lifted her right leg up. "Br… [view original content]
Thanks. Looking forward to starting on my next one. Have a lot of ideas for it! MIGHT change it around from what I originally posted earlier this week.
Thanks. Looking forward to starting on my next one. Have a lot of ideas for it! MIGHT change it around from what I originally posted earlier this week.
Comments
I don't know how I missed that. That's kind of embarrassing. Thank you!
No problem.
Nice start so far. Can't wait to read more about Peter and Miss Nerissa.
You've really captured the brutality of the confrontation, and the characterisations are as nicely done as always.
Good grief! What on Earth is happening in the comics? Actually, don't tell me, as I plan on catching up. Still, you're writing is smooth and precise, moving things forward yet allowing for comical asides. I honestly think it's well worth reading!
Go for it! The writing, I mean. Nerissa does seem to be in a sad situation in The Wolf Among Us, so something that might change her fortune would probably be nice to read. Also, I think of a sunrise as being synonymous with hope as well as courage, because courage without hope is surely like a candle with no one to view it. An odd simile, I grant you. Anyway, I like what you've got so far.
Chapter 33
"Seasons change"
The incident at the Council was spreading like wildfire; no one knew who did this or HOW it got started. Several people assumed it was an accident; the secretary and Decimus had a nasty habit of smoking inside the building. Others already had their pitch forks and torches ready; they all had the fingers pointed to Fables and they were ready to attack. But with lack of evidence and so many vouching for the Fables in question, what choice did they have but to make their way back into the dark and wait.
Malcom and Jersey never spoke about that day. Although John and Bigby KNEW they did it, why bring it up? The only question they had now was this-the Council would have to replace their men and refill the positions. WHO would take them and how power hungry would they be? None of this was over with; despite the attempt to rid those that caused problems, that didn't secure their freedom.
Carla, however, could care less. The cocoon lodged deep inside her womb had hardened over night. It made it difficult to sleep comfortably or move. She could feel Rosie moving around inside. The Grendel baby was continuing to grow at a rapid pace; it wouldn't be long until she was finally here. Carla closed her eyes for a few minutes, leaned against some animal skins and relaxed. She placed her arms along her belly and began feeling Rosie kick. Although it brought discomfort, she didn't mind; knowing her child was happy and growing, made it all worthwhile.
Carla didn't notice Swineheart struggling against the fresh powder. It was snowing all night; Carla could recall waking up and shivering from the frigid temperatures outside. Gren built her a fire and wrapped a large deer skin throw around Carla. He snuggled between her and while she drifted back to sleep, he rocked her gently.
"Carla," said Swineheart, as he entered the cave. "You in here, Carla?"
Carla was startled. She peered over and found the doctor placing his bag down and warming up by the fire. He grinned when he noticed Carla, sitting comfortably against the cave and relaxing.
"I see you took my advice," continued the doctor. "With a titan growing inside of your womb, rest is the best option. Any little thing could cause stress to the two of you. My main concern is still you and the birthing plan. Grendel said he created a center just for this. I noticed the river, however, is nearly frozen over."
"We are doing it, inside the cave," replied Carla, as she struggled to get up.
Swinheart reached over and slowly lifted Carla to her feet. He watched as her belly rippled from the movement; Rosie was turning around and kicking along the way. Carla pressed herself against the wall and held her lower abdomen. Between the cocoon and Rosie moving down, she couldn't tell which was worse.
"Ugh, excuse me, doctor. She is making it hard to even just stand up now."
Swinheart made Carla sit down. As he prepared to check on Rosie, Gren walked into the cave followed by Malcom, John and Bigby. The three men took a seat near the opening, while Gren sat beside Carla. He noticed the discomfort in her face; she was finding it difficult to sit and remain still.
"I blame you, Gren," said Carla, as she playfully pushed him.
Gren laughed, as Swineheart took out a device. It looked like a smaller version of the ultrasound machine. He placed the end directly onto her belly, as he circled around her belly button. He turned on the machine, pushed a button and continued checking the baby. The tiny machine beeped every time it crossed Rosie's path. After five minutes, it was complete.
"Well, everything seems to be in tip top order, you two," replied Swineheart, as he helped Carla sit up. "She is very healthy and from what I could tell in this area here, the cocoon is beginning to soften up. That is why I mentioned the birthing plan earlier. Carla mentioned you were having it in the cave..."
"Yes. The water outside is solid; I never took that into consideration, so, our best bet is in here. Her sisters agreed to come down and help; who you see here, plus a few others, will also be here to help me set everything up."
"Excellent you two. Well, I'd have to say, you both are prepared for this child."
From a distance, Carla noticed Lyla and Georgie; he however, was struggling to move through the snow. She managed to get to the cave first and headed to Carla. Lyla hugged her sister, then placed her ear against her belly.
"She's moving a lot in there," said Lyla. "How has that been for you?"
"Swinheart said she is very healthy and very pleased. The cocoon is softening up, Lyla..."
The girls began squealing, just as Georgie managed to fall into the cave and take a seat. He was panting heavily, as he leaned back into the rock.
"Fuck sake," gasped Georgie. "The fuck do you need to be out here in the middle of nowhere? Fuckin' cold, snow everywhere....ya' should have done all this birthing shit in your apartment. There are supplies to make it a jungle theme if ya' needed to-"
John kicked Georgie's side; Bigby, Gren and Malcom tried not to laugh, as he slummed over in pain.
"Its the principle of it, Georgie," replied John. "He IS a Grendel; this is how things are done back at the Homelands."
Georgie didn't question their attempt at delivering a Grendel; he and the others were outside looking for food and a decent looking Pine tree. Carla wanted to decorate the cave for Christmas. The holiday was one of her favorites and although it took some convincing, Gren decided to let her. After all, it was comforting to herself and the baby. While the men were gone, Lyla returned to the city to fetch the quads. Four babies were not a problem to a shewolf, as she transformed and carried the babies. Carla was always taken back by the strength and agility her sister had in her wolf form. She placed each baby on the ground and watched as they interacted with their surroundings. Carla grabbed Emily and snuggled her closely.
"They are growing up so fast," said Carla.
"Yeah. Seemed like just yesterday we found out I was pregnant. Who would have thought, huh? Not just because of the number but WHO it was with."
They both started laughing, just as Katie turned into her wolf form and tackled Penny to the ground; frightened, Junior scuttled his way to Lyla and buried his face in her lap. Lyla picked him up and cradled him against her chest.
"He is so sensitive," said Carla, as she rocked Emily.
"We were so worried about HIM being too much like Georgie but believe it or not, its who YOU are holding that concerns me. Look at that mug. When he has those sour looks, the infamous 'fuck off, I'm pissed off' look, she does the same shit."
Carla leaned over and kissed Emily's face; the baby began thrashing and trying to wipe her face.
"See? Just like him...but I love her just the same..."
Just then, a loud howl echoed inside the cave. Kate was on all fours, head towards the ceiling and letting out tiny, shrieking howls.
"HHHHOOOOAAARR!! HOOOOOOOWWWWLL! Look mommy, you, you! HOOOOAAARRR!!"
Lyla laughed, as Katie jumped into her lap, followed by Penny. Junior continued to hold onto Lyla tight.
"Sshh, Katie, sweetie. Not so loud, baby. Remember what mommy told you?"
Katie smiled, as she covered her mouth. Just then, several more howls could be heard from the distance; both Carla and Lyla laughed. Bigby, Malcom and John were all in wolf form; behind them, Gren and Georgie followed, along with Nancy.
"Did I hear a little wolf puppy just now," replied John, as Katie ran to his side. He licked the top of her head, as Katie began chewing and gnawing on his paw.
"Play with me, papa," begged the pup, as she ran around him. "Play, play, play!"
Carla watched, as Gren and Georgie placed the tree to the side and brush off any remaining snow. With the help from her mother, she slowly walked over to Gren; still holding Emily, who was fast asleep.
"It looks good, Gren," said Carla, as she kissed his cheek. "Its really starting to look like Christmas in here."
Gren grabbed Emily and nuzzled the sleeping child. He pressed his face against her own and in his mind, pictured his own daughter.
"You look good with a baby, Gren."
Gren looked around; what was so terrible about what he saw? Why couldn't Fables and Folkers, mundies and Halfers all just get along? They were all the same; lost in this world and fumbling down the dark halls looking for a way out. He saw no purpose to fight anymore, no desires to start a war with ignorance and individuals that lived their life with eyes closed. He looked down at his fiancee's rapidly growing belly. What was so wrong about this child being born into this world?
In reality, there was an ugly world just outside these cave walls. In time, they would have to face it and confront the truth; take on the Council and Folkers and even the Fables that believed what he was witnessing was a crime and should be dealt with.
But not now. Tonight, he could pretend none of that existed.
It was nice seeing everyone together.
For some reason, that was the best part, considering all the things you have put them through. Poor Carla is so close to the due date! I'm hurting just reading this! Good job like always, Pie! 
Oh, I see.
Private dancer for Georgie, I take it? Either way, can't wait for your next story!
So, about that holiday thing. Are we doing that this month? Cuz I have a little holiday special chapter undergoing final touches.
Yes, hopefully it's summer-related! Because I was actually planning to do a summer discussion pertaining to this thread. Summer officially starts on the 21st, so I'm going to hold off on posting it until then. (I still need to think up the challenge anyway)
Cool. Mine's not summer-related, is it still eligible?
From what I'm planning, it may not be, sorry to say. What holiday is your chapter supposed to represent, if I may ask?
XD I still need to think of the challenge, Stone! Don't worry.
Um, Halloween. Sorry, no spooky ghosts.
------ Continued, Part 6
I had to put my trust in her.
“I would be careful though if I were you,” I warned Veronica before we got started. “People underestimate me a lot - they don’t know how strong it can be …”
It would be most bad and humiliating if this woman ended up being a few ashes on the ground like my earlier victims before she’d even taught me something. She seemed so confident when addressing me, maybe a bit too confident. It was suspicious. But there was a calm glow in Veronica’s eyes as she patted me lightly on the head. I managed to give her a wan smile. Then she drew back her hand, frowning.
“Your hair is burning,” she murmured. “Are you nervous, child?”
“I never get nervous,” I bluffed, but I was chewing the skin around my nails as I spoke.
“Don’t do that,” Veronica scolded gently, detaching my hands from my mouth. She glanced down at them, at the ripped skin and red flesh. “You barely have any skin left, and this is coming from the child who just said she never gets nervous.”
I sighed, stubbornly rolling my eyes. “I just don’t want to kill you.”
That made her laugh. “I promise you, dear, that you won’t.”
How could she promise that?
“All right. Look at me now, child.”
I forced myself to look into those huge, staring eyes as clear as moonlight. Does she ever blink? I wondered.
“Now I want you to listen carefully … What makes you angry?”
I blinked.
“Think about it, Lehava. Close your eyes and think.”
I-”
“Close them, Lehava.”
I slowly closed them. And I asked myself: what makes me angry?
My life in the Homelands always makes me furious; I was helpless, helpless to free myself from the abuse for years, and I didn’t have anyone to help me. Grizelda’s spiteful face and callous lies make me spit with rage. Griffon’s words you can’t take care of yourself make me angry, maybe because I know its true. And I can’t stand the rare times Bigby and Snow are mad at me for countless things (despite most of it was Grizelda).
But it was most awful when Fables back away from me, giving me fearful looks, telling themselves that I’m going to hurt them. That makes me angrier the most. Because they’ll never believe that all I want is for them to be my friends.
My eyes began stinging painfully even though I never cry. I started to shake all over.
“Can you feel your rage, Lehava?” Veronica’s voice suddenly sounded so far away. I opened my eyes, but all I could see were sudden flames erupting all around me. They approached me dangerously, hissing, spitting. I slowly stepped back. Something hot suddenly scorched my leg, and I yelped with pain and ended up sprawled across the floor. Thick black smoke filled my mouth and cloaked itself round my lungs.
“There’s … fire everywhere,” I choked out. “It’s so strong … That it’s burning me.”
“It is your doing, Lehava. This is how strong it will get if you keep continuing to let your rage get the better of you.”
Fables suddenly started to appear around me. Flycatcher, Grizelda, Cryer, Tiny Tim, Bigby and Snow … They were burning in the flames, their faces stricken with terror, their skin blackening with burns. My eyes widened with shock.
“Bigby!” I screamed. “Snow!” I tried to run, but a wall of fire blocked me from getting any nearer. I could hear more Fables; screaming in pain, choking, dying all around me. And there was nothing I could do.
What have I done?
“Lehava.” Veronica‘s voice was slowly coming back to me. “This is what will happen. All your friends … They will end up dead.”
Screaming, I clutched my head with my hands. “I don’t want this! I don’t want to kill anyone else!”
“Then think about this. The consequences. Ask yourself if this is what you want.”
“It’s not what I want!” I shrieked. “Make it stop, please!” Lifeless burnt bodies collapsed beneath my feet. I fell on my hands and knees, clutching my head, screaming helplessly. I wanted to stop, but I didn’t know how. It never listened to me. It was like a lion in cage; trapped inside me with a mind of its own.
“Lehava! It’s okay. You’re coming back now …”
An explosion went off in my brain and I was pulled back violently into reality in a sweaty, shaky state. After a few wild moments, everywhere was calm.
I looked around whilst trying to catch my breath. The apartment seemed to still be in a perfect state and there wasn’t so much as a burn on Veronica’s face. I was certain that I just exploded a second ago. What was she doing to my mind?
“I’m sorry to have put those visions on you, child,” Veronica said, seeing the fear in my eyes. “I just had to make you see the consequences of your actions. It will give you something to remember the next time you feel angry.”
I wanted to shout that it sometimes wasn’t my fault - people liked to get under my skin and hurt me. But then I remembered Bigby, Snow and all those other Fables getting burnt alive - and my bottom lip started to tremble.
“Don’t cry, child, you know you mustn’t,” Veronica said - but then her arms went right round me. I buried my face into her soft shoulder, breathing in her strange powdery smell. The visions Veronica showed me were having huge effects; I could still hear the helpless, blood-curdling screams in my ears, feel the fire brushing my arms. ButI sniffed back my tears and put on the brave face I’ve been putting on for most of my life.
Veronica gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“Now, dear, are you ready to continue?”
I gave a tiny, somewhat reluctant nod.
“What makes you happy?”
Happy?
“I” - If I’m being honest, I couldn’t remember the last time I was happy. I didn’t have any reason to be. But I see Mundies that smile, laugh - and I want to know what it feels like.
“Nothing really,” I said lamely.
“Nothing?” she pursued, but before we could continue, her phone suddenly started ringing. Even that was studded with jewels.
“Excuse me for a second,” she said, and went to answer it. “Yes?” she asked with a touch of annoyance in her voice.
I stood there, chewing my fingernails, as she hissed and snapped at the person on the phone. I kept hearing faint yells in my ear, and yet when I shook my head or blinked, they’d come back a lot louder. It sent chills down my spine.
After a few seconds, Veronica put the phone down.
“Sorry about that, Lehava. That was Cindy. She wants to deliver something to me,” Veronica said. “Her shoe shop’s just down the road. Do you want to come?”
Remembering Snow’s words, I shook my head. “I’d better not. I can’t go out into the Mundy streets…”
“Don’t worry about that, Lehava. Nothing will happen whilst I’m there.”
I gave a tiny shrug, still a little unsure.
“Come on then-”
“I-”
Suddenly in the corner of the room, a horrible black burnt figure what had just appeared from nowhere slowly turned its crumbling head to stare at me. Its eyes were dead and yellow. Hissing in a revengeful manner, it started to step across the carpet in me and Veronica’s direction, bits of flaky burnt skin falling off its every move. I stepped back, too frightened to scream. Just as it reached out its horrifying, cindery fingers towards my throat -
“Lehava?”
Veronica was peering at me with her bright blue eyes, concerned. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“I- I - Nothing.” I peered around apprehensively, but the thing was gone.
“Let’s go then.”
That's quite harrowing, and bit at the end is decidedly creepy. One cannot help to be sympathetic for Lehava, and I think you've doing a grand job.
A sparrow! Chaise longue! The word 'imbibe'! It's all below.
Chapter Three, Part Two
In which the newly appointed Sheriff of Fabletown, Bigby Wolf, does as Miss Snow White of the Business Office asked him, and pays a visit to the Rag-and-Bone Man.
As a gentle breeze pervaded from the ocean on a blue-sky day in New Amsterdam, a Sparrow rested on the gable end of a modest wooden house, lost - if you will believe it - in it's own thought. Of late, it considered, there had been birds the likes of which it had never seen before. Peculiar markings, odd sizes, and the most bizarre dialects made these new arrivals stand out like red poppies in a wheat field. Some of these new birds, it reckoned, aptly mimicked the babbling discord of the creatures below; the creatures that walked upright and had the most impractical of feathers. On mention of the uprights that walked below, the Sparrow's train of thought switched tracks to pursue the realisation that it had noticed a difference in some of those critters, and left the conundrum of the new types of it's species behind; for the species of sparrow can only follow one line of mental inquiry at a time. Which is why they flit about so much.
What was the difference it detected in some of the uprights that walked below? The Sparrow couldn't quite put it's beak on it, other than to say it was sure that they had a certain quality about their beings, a quality which made them seem not of this world. Speaking of something not being of this world, it realised, there were birds of late the likes of which it had never seen before. Peculiar markings, odd sizes -- (here, in the interests of saving ourselves from the noticeable tedium which would come from being subjected to the Sparrow's repetitive speculations, time will be briefly moved forward to the point where the bird's thoughts had come back in a circle, and one of those beings with a quality not quite of this world walked into it's frame of view) -- and here was one now, the Sparrow noticed.
Rising from it's perch, the Sparrow flew down to the pointed roof of a porch, attached to a house that stood on the street down which that strange upright was walking. Though some distance from the muddy avenue along which the object of it's attention moved, the Sparrow could detect something feral in the green-feathered thing, a bestial nature that brought about the notion of a wolf in sheep's clothing. (Our sparrow friend is not entirely aware of what a 'sheep' is, however - for sparrows know them only as 'walking nests' - so such an analogy was only half formed in it's mind. A Wolf then, in some sort of disguise, is what the Sparrow settled on.)
As the Wolf wandered down the street, the Sparrow followed from the safety of the rooftops, intrigued to see what the creature would do in it's nefarious plumage disguise. Attack something, perhaps? That would prove to be a lesson worth watching so as to avoid any similar misfortune, the bird concluded.
The Wolf did not attack a thing however, which made the Sparrow entirely perplexed. The bird's confusion would have been soon resolved if not for a bee which happened to fly past, and catch the Sparrow's attention, causing the bird to give chase. For Sparrow's can only think of one thing at a time, you know.
'Finally', thinks the Sheriff, as he turns in time to see a Sparrow launch itself from a nearby roof in the hunt for a bee. 'Thought the damn thing was going to follow me all day.'
"Sheriff? Is that you?" calls a voice from behind; and while faintly asked, it is received much louder due to the heightened senses of the addressed.
Bigby rotates back to the tall brick house, where from the elevated entrance off the street the face of an aging man can be seen, poking from behind a red door. The Sheriff decides that an amount of discretion would be useful, less the Face accidentally reveal to all nearby - through an act of verification and a much louder voice - that the person in the street is some sort of Sheriff. He didn't, Bigby knew, need another group of people asking him to help with their problems.
To get to the door and the face, a set of steps must be stepped up, and the Sheriff takes these easily in his stride. Wooden steps they are, painted white, and adorned on either end with a plant pot and brightly coloured flowers. A pointed iron fence separates all neighbours at the front on this street, despite every other house being joined in the middle. A welcoming treat of perennial colour to those invited in, and a cold and spiky shoulder to those unwelcome; this was, without a doubt, the more affluent end of New Amsterdam.
At close proximity the Face shows signs of age: deep lines, a slight sagging in places, and a scar here and there. The expression upon it, however, is of convincing vitality, with a knowing smile, a glint in the brown eyes, and a swept-back crop of earth-coloured hair; and there is a fullness to the face that suggests the body thereto attached will not be of entirely modest proportions.
"I knew it as you," the Face says, in an accent that would later find a home in this part of the world.
Bigby, being quite sure of his accuracy, returns with, "Jeremiah Hound. Otherwise known as 'The Rag-and-Bone Man.'" The grin on the Face stretches more and becomes a knowing smile; the door is noiselessly flung open and a well-rounded form ably fills the frame.
A moss-green suit is what Jeremiah Hound wears, with polished black and heeled shoes - as is the style of the time,- mauve waistcoat, and a silver pocket watch. The latter is deducible due to a chain which runs across the waistcoat beneath the unbuttoned suit jacket. Arms outstretched, Jeremiah gives out a hearty "Bigby!"
Bigby's eyes widen ever-so-slightly at such an unexpected welcome, and at the confusion of what it is the man in front of him is attempting to do. Then it metaphorically hits him:
"Oh no," the Sheriff realises internally. "He wants a hug."
"Come on! Don't leave a man waiting," says Jeremiah, with a feigned look of shock at the notion of his particularly friendly greeting being rebuffed.
"Erm... just... ... No."
"Pff," comes the reply, with a look of abject disappointment upon the passionate face. An expression that might have persuaded those of a more affectionate nature to rethink their denying of hugging reciprocation, however this is the Big Bad Wolf, and he sticks to his choice.
"You might as well come in then, you boring sod. I won't conduct business standing at my doorstep."
Bigby Wolf is far more comfortable with this invitation, and he accepts.
Entering through the red door, Bigby is hit by an overpowering scent, a combination in smell of stale and chemical proportions. The odour is initially too strong for the Wolf, and he cannot help but thrust his head back outside for a resuscitating gasp of fresh air.
"Let me guess," says Jeremiah as he notices this effect, "it's the mothballs, isn't it?"
"Must be," replies Bigby, while wincing. "Mind if I smoke?" "I do. However, seeing as it would surely be unbeneficial to deny you, the Sheriff of all people" - Jeremiah gives Bigby a wink and a nod at this moment, for reasons which are simply baffling - "I will allow it."
"Thanks," comes a very flat reply from the Sheriff, who has quickly grown tired of Jeremiah's theatrics. Bigby then proceeds to remove a small and worn leather case from an inside pocket of his coat, and takes out of it a cigar. Placing it in his mouth, he enjoys the crisp ripping sound of a match being lit, and inhales appreciatively the grey cloud that begins to emanate from the cigar.
After Bigby has finished this routine Jeremiah informs him to close the door, and beckons his guest into his splendid living room. It is splendid, reader, because the room happily fits into the category of appearing small from the perspective of the street, and yet being big when one is inside it. The choice of furnishings also enhance the enchanting atmosphere of the place, with rich and colourful carpets, grand timepieces, ornate paintings in gold-plated frames, two chaise longue, and even a suit of arms that looks entirely out of place guarding a turquoise vase brimming with white hibiscus. Having walls of a deep red shade, the finishing touch of a golden candelabra hanging from the ceiling means that visitors are either put under the spell of the room, or are offended by such a level of garish opulence. Sheriff Bigby Wolf could be firmly placed in this latter category, not least because he used to eat people who enjoyed such living as this.
"Let's sit by the fire," directs Jeremiah, where two high-backed and well-padded chairs are already placed, with a small table between them.
Bigby sits, grateful for not having to deal with an unwieldy chaise, and notes the unlit fire to have a surround made of white marble, into which trees and plants native to the Homelands are carved. Jeremiah, who had momentarily gone behind Bigby to retrieve two glasses containing peat-hued alcohol, sits down opposite his guest and places the glasses onto the aforementioned table.
Unbuttoning his waistcoat, Jeremiah simply asks, "What can I do for you, Sheriff?"
Bigby, while puffing away on the cigar and mentally deliberating whether or not he should have a drink on a formal visit, begins succinctly. "The Business Office is in need of your assistance, Mr Hound." The Sheriff expects some sort of entreaty from his host along the lines of, 'please, call me Jeremiah,' yet surprisingly, none is given.
"And what would that business be?"
"Assistance in moving some of the refugees that are coming out of the Homelands."
"Ahh, those poor things," responds Jeremiah, with a chord of sorrow in his voice. "I will help them in any possible way, of course."
"You may regret saying that," says the Sheriff, who then leans a little forward in his seat. "The thing is, it isn't the ones that are alive who you will be helping. It's the dead ones."
Jeremiah at first appears bewildered by the information; this then transforms into something close to resembling anger.
"Just what is it that you think I do, Mister Wolf, that makes you presuppose I would be the person best suited to what sounds like a particularly morbid and horrible task?"
The Sheriff takes on a conciliatory tone and answers: "As the Business Office understands it" - Bigby is keen here to clearly demonstrate that it is not he alone who has decided upon this request, though he actively chooses to not directly reference Miss White - "your line of work involves the collecting of many varied items. Many ways and means of doing this you have - of being able to move the largest and most awkward of objects with ease and, at times, secrecy. This is what is being asked of you now.
"You see, many are coming through the gate from the Homelands in a vary bad way, and due to the lack of Mundy belief, or interest in them, they are succumbing to their wounds. Fabletown therefore has the question of what to do with the deceased - placing them in Mundy grave sites would look too suspicious seeing as we don't really talk to the Mundies. Burying them in our own sites would be fine, if not for the Mundies again, who are rapidly expanding and would surely uncover the bodies and skeletons before they've had time to turn to dust, as it what happens when there is no more belief for them."
"I do not like this, Sheriff. I do not like this at all."
"I didn't want to ask. Fabletown would be indebted to you," is Bigby's attempt at offering some sort of condolence, though all it achieves is a withering glare from person to whom it was directed.
"I am a respected person, Sheriff. I have always prided myself on avoiding the dead at all turns, and I do not wish for any sort of connection between myself and any macabre business. Is there no way out of this?"
"It would seem not. Sorry."
An unwilling resignation seems to Jeremiah the only course left, if he wishes his life to remain mostly as it is. A relative safety, he feels, is what Fabletown offers. He downs the dark drink, enjoying the burn in his throat, and keeps the glass in his hand. "And how am I to acquire these... bodies?"
The Sheriff is relieved that his host seems to have accepted the situation, and allows himself to relax a little into the chair. "I suspect that will be my job. A few bodies at a time can be stored in our building - we can halt the decomposing with magic - and I will call upon you when there is no more space."
"Where am I to take them?"
"That's up to you. The Office says that further inland - somewhere particularly remote - or out to sea will do."
"I've heard rumours of a new place being built for animal Fables. The Farm, I think?" The Sheriff nods.
"Could I not dispose of them there?"
"I suspect not. Don't want more of the feral Fables digging them up."
'Fables akin to yourself, you mean,' scorns Jeremiah, though he has the sense not to say it aloud.
A moments silence passes; some of the timepieces are audibly sounding rythmic ticks and tocks, and the suit of arms remains on a stern guard. Bigby can sense an unease in the man opposite him, notes the lack of a youthful smile and the white knuckles of the hand grasping the glass. Then the relative silence is broken, as Jeremiah lowers his head: "Very well, Sheriff. I will do as you ask."
The Sheriff stands up, pleased to have reached the end of his stay. "Like I said, Fabletown will be indebted to you. It won't be forgotten at the Business Office, I'm sure."
"Indeed. By the way, do tell Miss White that if she has any other request to ask of me, she should at least deign to do so in person." There is notable resentment lurking in this statement.
"I'm sure you can find the way out, Gaffer Wolf." Mr Hound does not raise his head and the Sheriff says a thank you, and takes his leave.
After hearing his front door close, Jeremiah inspects the room around him while remaining in his chair. Honesty is what he'd built his business and reputation upon, and he'd stuck to that even in the hardest of times. What he was being asked to do was still honest, yet he knew that that honesty would be overshadowed by the vilification and disdain that many Fables would heap on him. How long would this task of his last for, and just what would be his life by the end of it? Noticing the drink meant for the Sheriff is still present, he imbibes that one too.
Outside, as Bigby returns to the street, a Sparrow can be seen landing on a nearby hedge, with the look of utmost perplexion upon it's features.
I don't think this one is my best, however I'd really like to finish this story and possibly try something new. Therefore, I'm content that this moves things on. Somewhat.
Got it. Tell you what, if you really feel like sharing it right now, then go for it. I'll just consider your Halloween chapter to be a very early submission when October comes. I'll be sure to make a note somewhere to include it for the October F.S.A., sound good?
Wow, these chapters are getting better and better. Again, so much textual talent is being shown here! I really need to get crackin' on the rest of the storyteller awards, while I add in the finishing touches to the summer challenge as well. All of you are amazing, just had to let you guys know.
GUYS, GUYS LOOK! I died for awhile but then i came back to life! So i wrote more about Wilhelm! But it ain't centered around Wilhelm! Well it kind of is but there are more OC's in it too! Sorry about dieing on you, i had a rather busy summer as of late, and it only will get more busy in the next few weeks. So i hope you enjoy this story! Will is happy to be back!
September - 6 – 1980
12:45 AM
Central park
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Look, im sorry but I don’t have the money!”
The blond haired man growled in annoyance. His hair tied back, wearing dark pants with a white somewhat creased t-shirt. The other man, Shorter in stature, simply stared at the flustered blond with calm yet eerie eyes.
“Jack, We went over this, You don’t have the money. I take the necklace and be on my merry way..”
The dark haired man took a drag from his half burned cigarette. He exhaled calmly, giving the younger man a smirk.
“Don’t make this hard on me jack. I like you, I do. But I have my profession to think about here.”
“Will, Buddy. I’m working my ass off here! Bigby has been at my back for the past few days. I haven’t got the chance to making any cash!”
Jack ran his hand through his gold hair and sighed. The other man frowned slightly and shook his head in disappointment.
“Bigby is not my concern” The dark haired man set his deep green eyes into Jacks blue ones. “All I care about is getting that fucking money? Do you hear me jack? If I don’t get it by this Monday, Bigby ain’t gonna be the only thing you have to worry about…” He growled, His eyes showing a hint of purple and black.
Jacks eyes widened and he stepped back slightly. He looked down at the ground and paused. The darkness of the night made the shorter man’s green now purple eyes shine.
“Ok, Wilhelm.. I’ll have your money..” He said without looking into Wilhelm’s cursed eyes.
“Good, I’ll see you then, Jackie boy” Will strolled past jack, as he did, he patted him on the back.
Jack quickly turned, but he was gone. Like the shadow he was. Jack cursed to himself, rubbing his face as he did. He would normally talk he was out of situation like this, Think of some lavish excuse to at least get him more time then a few days. Every time he tried to think of something to say to Wilhelm, he mind went blank. His mind became clouded, every time he looked into those dark green eyes; some sort of darkness consumed his mind. Jack shook his head and walked back to his apartment, hoping he would get some sort of sleep tonight. He had a lot of work to do.
September – 9 - 1980
1:15 PM
Sheriff’s Office.
Being sheriff is not as easy as those shitty western movies make it to be. Especially since you have to keep everyone from killing each other, Not to mention that nearly most of the population of this god forsaken town hate you.
Bigby sighed as he pulled another cigarette from his “all but famous” Huff and Puff. He lit it and took a long drag, he glanced down to the paperwork that still needed to be done. His office was small, but that was ok. He didn’t want some huge ass office. Unlike some people, mainly Crane. Bigby kept looking at the papers, it’s not like they’re going to magically write themselves. Oh well, Can’t help but try.
Bigby stood up, stretching his back and arms. He had been stuck doing this shit for hours now. A break couldn’t hurt. He quickly left his office and walked towards the business office. He could hear someone shouting on the other side of the door, Crane…. He growled to himself.
He opened the door to see a young girl, looked about 18-20 being yelled at by the exact guy Bigby expected. He frowned, walking over he could hear what Crane was on about.
“Miss. Brennan! I have made my point clear, Now leave. I have more important matters to attend to.” Crane growled at the short dark haired woman.
“Look, all I want is a glamour and the I will be out of your hair.” Her strong Irish accent was kind of hard to understand but not impossible.
“No, Miss. Brennan. If you don’t have the money to get a glamour then he shall go to the farm! Now that is that. End of discussion.” With that Crane quickly walked towards the door to leave the Business office.
“Sheriff…” He growled as he left.
“Crane..” Bigby replied.
Bigby watched at Crane left. He scoffed at the man, he turned to look at the girl. She was looked rather angry.
“Fuckin’ cunt..” She growled, Her blue eyes darkened.
“So, What the hell was that all about?” The older male asked as he walked towards her. She looked at bigby with surprised eyes.
“Sheriff? Whatcha doin’ here?” She asked.
“Well I do work here, and I really should be asking you that.” He replied as he exhaled some smoke.
“Oh, Just tryin’ to get a friend of mine some glamour..” She sighed.
“Hm? Who is this friend? Also, I haven’t seen you around here before…Wait? How do you know who I am?”He looked at her with wary eyes. She chuckled at this.
“Well, Me and my friend just got here a few days ago, I’m tryin’ to get him a glamour since he doesn’t look that human.. The names Aine Brennan. Well you are the Big Bad Wolf, Everyone knows who ye are.” She said, her blue eyes almost looked dead. Her frighteningly pale skin didn’t help.
“Aine Brennan… Haven’t heard of you.” Bigby looked at her trying to place her.
“Naw, I’m a Banshee, There’s a few of us. Most of them are in Ireland right now.” She pushed some of her raven black hair behind her ear. Here hair was pretty long, down to her knees. Not as long as Rapunzel’s but still long.
“A banshee? Haven’t seen any off those since the homelands” Bigby leaned against cranes desk.
“As I said, there in Ireland but there’s not a lot of us left.” She sighed sadly.
“Oh, Eh Im sorr-“
“Hm? Bigby?” Snow walked into the business office, she looked at bigby questionably and then at Aine.
“Oh, Hello Snow. “ He gave her a small smile.
“Ah, Good afternoon bigby, Ah, Aine, I have your documents here. Once you fill this form you can get Aiden’s Horse.”
“Great, he’ll be delighted. He’s missed the big fella.”
“Well you do realize you do need to get a glamour for him.” Snow replied.
“Oh, don’t worry. He can turn into a bike or car, anything that you can ride.”
“Ok, Good.”
Aine walked over to Snows desk and looked over the form.
“Why exactly can’t Aiden come pick up his horse?” Bigby asked.
“Well we’re still working on getting a glamour for him..”
Bigby was about to question her farther when Jack quickly ran into the room. He looked out of breath and like he got into a fight.
“Jack? What happened?” Snow asked as she quickly walked towards him.
“Well..eh…. I kind of pissed off someone….” He said quietly.
Bigby’s eyes narrowed, He walked over to jack. “Who didn’t you piss off this time, Jack?” He asked.
“Erm….Well…..Wilhelm…” He answered quietly as he looked down at the ground.
What…….No…How did he? Bigby asked himself in shock.
To be continued…..
Sorry its kind of short, I am really tired right now so i didn't make it longer :P
Welcome back.
Interesting. Taking a common phrase and tying an actual Fable to it, that's creative. Won't always work, though. I really loved the tension you created between Bigby and his host. I also like the personality you decided to give to Jeremiah, and the vast, quick change in his demeanor, from generous host to offended and revolted, is believable. I can't imagine Bigby's position as glorified errand boy and top enforcer would have him keeping what few friends he had from the Homelands after settling in Fabletown.
...Are we to assume the horse is one of the talking Fables? If so, can't he just be glamoured as a man? Grendel's huge, and space doesn't seem to be an issue when glamouring him and Holly to appear human... If the horse can't talk, then why would it need to be glamoured?
Welcome back! I was wondering when you were going to add more of your tale, very glad to see that you haven't scrapped it! Can't wait to see more.
Aiden needs his horse, Its kind of apart of him. Well they are in the middle of a city, You wouldn't see a random horse just walking around XD I will explain more in part 2. Also He doesn't look like a normal horse.
Yeah sorry, I have been too busy to write anything for the past few weeks. I will try get this update sooner but no promises :P and Thanks!
Thank you!
Well, ok. But you can ride horses on the streets in most US cities, with some exceptions, and they even have the right of way. He could be glamoured to look like a normal horse. That would probably be much cheaper than going with a vehicle.
The summer discussion is now up! The F.S.A. challenge can be viewed near the bottom should any of you wish to tackle it.
http://www.telltalegames.com/community/discussion/73979/a-fable-vacation-summer-thread
Hmm, Thank you! You just gave me an idea for Aiden!
I also got the vehicle idea from the anime Durarara, there is a character that has a horse that can turn into a motorbike.
I wanted to try and make a character in a style in-keeping with the Fables universe, which is pretty much how it came about. I'm glad you like Jeremiah's personality and that's it's believable. Do you have plans to continue with Tod?
Aine is certainly a fiesty one, and welcome back!
Chapter 34
"Things change"
"We have to talk, Bigby."
"About the current situation?"
"We are at war here, Bigby! I need to know what you plan-what WE have planned-for this."
"They want to fight so badly and 'defend' what they think is right. So be it..."
"Is that the final decision? I need to know...."
"Yes, Snow. It's my final decision...."
"So be it"
Gren was surprised to find Carla up so early; she was standing in the snow, looking out towards the dark, quiet forest. She had her eyes closed; the cool, refreshing flakes falling gently against her face. He didn't say a word, as he carefully watched.
Inside the cave, John and Bigby began preparing a Christmas meal. Snow, Nancy, Lyla, Gina and Mary were busy tending to the simple decorations for the small, elegant tree the boys helped bring in. The quads were busy playing on the ground; tinsel and wrapping paper became their favorite play toy at that moment.
"Why the fuck are we doing it here," complained Georgie, as he tightly wrapped his jacket up. "It's cold, the quads might get sick and all this shit is-"
Lyla managed to throw a turnip in his direction; the vegetable bounced off his head and landed at the entrance. As he rubbed the sore spot, Lyla spoke.
"Watch the language, Georgie," replied Lyla, as she continued wrapping gifts. "Plus, we are doing this for Carla AND Gren. She really is in no condition to go very far, sweetie...."
Georgie began mumbling to himself, as he sat beside Lyla and began helping with the gifts.
"I actually am enjoying this," said Snow, as she tapped up the corners. "This reminds me of the homelands. This is nice. Away from the city and noise, surrounded by family and friends."
The cave was washed over by silence; Bigby and John stopped what they were doing and had their heads cocked to the side. Both the giant wolves were half changed; they could hear noise outside and knew it was not Gren or Carla. Nancy noticed their odd behavior.
"John. Bigby. What is it?"
Bigby began growling, as John walked to the cave entrance; he was prepared to fight who ever was out there. Now that there was a war, any little noise was a concern. The Council had troops all over the city and forest; some were even scattered all over the states. When Bigby noticed who it was, he stopped; Jersey walked inside, brushed some snow off and dropped off a large gift.
"Fuck, Jersey," yelled John, returning to his human form. "The hell is wrong with you!? Say something!"
"Well, I'm here," Jersey said sarcastically. "And beside, who else walks over rooftops and shrieks like that, huh? You outta' know this, wolf! Your kind and Nancy's kind have been after me for over a hundred years."
The beast walked over to the quads; Junior hid behind Lyla, as Katie stumbled to his side. He lifted the child and as he held her up high, the wolf pup began chewing and playing with one of his antlers. Jersey laughed, as Katie began growling and digging her tiny fangs deeper.
"For fucks sake," mumbled Georgie, as he stood up. "Kathrine, stop doing that, love. Don't think Jersey appreciates you using him as a chew toy..."
"Nah, it's a'rite, Georgie," replied Jersey, laughing. "This kid, though-she's got some fuckin' teeth in this mouth. She's too cute, though. Reminds me of those fuckin' dogs the mundies feel the need to carry in their purses."
Soon, Gren and Carla were back inside the cave; everyone could see the struggles she took to walk. With the help of Gren and Gina, Carla leaned into the nest and tried finding a comfortable spot. John offered her some food that was ready to eat. Carla took the plate and devoured the Turkey and Ham dinner; sweet potatoes and Green bean casserole flying in various directions.
"How are you feeling, sis," asked Gina, as she touched her belly. It was very rigid when she touched it. Although her lower abdomen was softer, the cocoon was still there. It had been six months; Gina was beginning to think Carla was due a lot sooner then Swineheart said. She may have been human but that was a Grendel baby; things were different.
"Hungry," replied Carla, as she chewed on a turkey bone. "Very hungry and hurting so fucking much!"
"Carla!"
"Oh, sorry mom...."
"Look," continued Nancy. "I will let that slide but you really need to relax, dear and try to take it easy."
Gina also noticed Gren's eyes; they were more focused and alert. He never left her side, even as she went outside for a brief moment to get some air. They were watching her; he didn't have to go outside. But he insisted; why would she argue with a Grendel anyways? Yes, they were on high alert due to the Council but there was no immediate threat between them. She had to ask him something.
"Gren, can I ask you something outside?"
"Everything okay, Gina?"
"Yes, just really quick..."
She turned into a large brown wolf, as she walked outside. The snow flakes had eased to a few falling from the sky; the thick, cold powder made it difficult for Gina to walk, even with enormous paws as she had. Gren stood before her; she was still taken back by his size.
"What is it, Gina?"
"She's going into labor soon, isn't she Gren? The book...the book mentioned Grendel babies are born after 6 months, even 7. She IS 6 months today, Gren. That...she looks like she might go into..."
The beast turned away; Carla could see the worry on his face, the concern brewing in his eyes.
"Why didn't Swineheart tell us this? We are all thinking she-"
"You try telling a mundy she will deliver not just a boulder but so quick and without warning. Grendel babies are born when THEY are ready; she could be fast asleep and the sudden urge to push will be so overwhelming, her body can go into shock."
"Won't that make it worse, though? I mean, she has no idea..."
"Yes, she does."
"HOW!?"
"Carla has read all those books, every chapter, every detail. She KNOWS about the early delivery; why do you think she has been trying to remain calm, so relaxed? Why do you think she goes outside and just stands there? It relaxes her; calms her nerves, which allows Rosie to move down and not cause too much stress on either of them. I follow her, just in case..."
"Fuck, Gren...fuck..."
Gina turned her massive head; the wind picking up and blowing through her fur. The mighty wolf inhaled the sweet air and didn't say another word, as she turned to head back into the cave. Before she walked inside, she finally spoke.
"Swear, you Fables..."
Gren laughed, as Gina playfully nipped at his feet.
The early evening was spent opening gifts and enjoying a plentiful bounty of a variety of meals. They had the usual; Turkey, Ham, sweet potatoes. Then, a few dishes of Pheasant, Rabbit and Fish; the last dish was mostly for Carla and Gren. The snow outside began picking up. Carla looked over and noticed all but one of the quads were asleep; Miss Katie was too busy placing ribbons and tinsel in Jersey's antlers. Georgie and Lyla were cuddled in the corner; she tried not to laugh, as he was fighting to stay awake.
John, Bigby and Malcom were outside; all but John was smoking and drinking a beer. Nancy and her sisters began cleaning up; Carla assured them it would get done but they refused. Why argue with her, thought Carla. She watched the fire dance along the ornaments; it glistened and twinkled, the the colorful balls twirled and danced against the wind. This all brought back nothing but good memories; she could remember doing all of this when she was a little girl. Now, she had a chance with her own, as she touched her belly.
Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in her lower abdomen. She doubled over and clutched both sides; she could feel Rosie moving down quickly. Gren noticed her actions and began shouting for the others. Nancy was on the phone with Swineheart, as Gren and her sisters helped lay her down. John and the others rushed in; Snow began boiling some water and gathering some towels.
"OH fuck," moaned Carla, as Gren rubbed her lower back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! UGGHH! FUCK!"
Snow grabbed a cup and crushed some berried inside and mixed it with spring water. She gave the mixture to Carla; she could see the baby kicking now, the cocoon softening up. Snow was prepared.
Gren snatched Carla's hand into his and waited; waited for Swineheart, waited for her next move, for anything.
Waited for Rosie.
I loved it! Can I take a guess on something...I THINK I know why Jersey is always there.
This was short but to the point. The next one seems like the end for this section! Which means on to the next! 
Saw they have a summer theme going on. Are you doing it Good job like always, Pie!
Chapter 35
"Rosie"
Ok, so yeah. Let's try this again! Damn thing erased EVERYTHING the 1st time; hopefully, the 2nd one is a go.
This will be the end for Gren and Carla. They will return in the future but for now, I must end it here. Thank you to all that stayed on Carla and Gren's journey with me. Next Fable tale will be up shortly. 
Enjoy.
Swineheart urged Carla to push; she leaned down, began breathing and tried forcing Rosie out. Nancy stood beside her, trying to wipe the sweat from her brow. Snow Whit was currently holding her hand; this was all the assurance she could do at the moment. Her father and Bigby were outside; she could smell the infamous huff n' puff smoke entering the cave. Gren, however, continued to sit by her side; he had his right hand entangled in her hair, twirling it with his claw and pulling at the end. This was relaxing Carla.
"Take a minute," replied Swinheart, as he lifted her right leg up. "Breathe and on the count of ten, I need you to push for me again."
The severe discomfort in her lower back was making it hard to concentrate; she could feel Rosie making her way down, the cocoon still hard as a rock. When Swineheart reached ten, Carla inhaled and began pushing again; the agony against her tender body was too overwhelming and she slumped over and began gasping. Gren quickly stood up and pushed her body upright. He kissed her head, as Lyla began preparing the water for boiling.
"Just relax, Carla," continued Swineheart. "I need you to relax and try not to cause too much stress-"
"Relax? Relax? RELAX!? I'd like to see YOU push a boulder out of your vagina and let me see how 'relaxed' you can get!"
Georgie began to chuckle; it wasn't the pain or the situation but the nervous looks everyone had on their face. He continued to play with Emily and Katie; Junior and Penny were sound asleep. They were too little to understand what was taking place anyways.
Carla tried to readjust; Rosie was moving down at a rapid pace and she began to wonder when the numbing sensation would kick in. Snow continued to squeeze her hand.
"You are doing great, Carla," mumbled Snow. "Just, breathe and go slow..."
The numbing sensation finally kicked in; Carla could feel an euphoria surrounding her body and soul. She sunk deeper into the water; the urge to kill Gren had subsided for now and without hesitation, she began to push. Gina and Mary brought out several towels as Lyla brought the boiling water to Swineheart. He took a rag and dipped it in the water; he rung it out and placed the warm cloth on Carla's belly.
"To relax the baby," replied Swineheart. "She needs constant stimulation and warmth."
The torment returned to Carla once more; her lower back twinged, as she felt another sharp pain. She screamed in agony; Gren tried to hold her back and calm her but it was too much. Nancy noticed fast amounts of blood pouring into the water; she began to panic, as Swineheart tried to reason with Carla.
"PLEASE! PLEASE! Why is it no longer numb!? I can fell her moving, I can FEEL her body making its way down! Help me, Swineheart-TAKE HER OUT! NO MORE!"
"Carla, stop," demanded Swineheart, as he lifted her legs up and propped them on the sides. "I need you to focus and push, okay? You are causing too much stress on the birthing process. I'm going to count to three; when I reach the number, I need you to push down."
"THIS....IS....YOUR FAULT," hissed Carla, as she began hitting Gren. "YOUR FAULT!!!!"
When the doctor reached three, Carla pushed down; all she could think about was her baby, as she closed her eyes and continued to ignore the pain. The numbing sensation came and went but was not enough to help her situation; her damn mundy blood was too strong and only getting in the way.
"I see the head," replied Swineheart. "Come on, Carla....couple more..."
The cave was soon filled with Carla's painful screams; Lyla had a towel ready, as she looked over and saw her father and Bigby. With one last push, Rosie was out and soon, the cave was filled with her growls and crying. Gren ran over to the doctor's side and helped him clean the baby and cut the cord. Carla leaned back and closed her eyes; Snow still holding her hand, as Nancy poured cool water over her face.
"You did it, Carla," whispered Snow. "She is here...."
Carla opened her eyes; she watched Gren snuggle the baby close to his face. He walked over to Carla's side and placed the baby onto her chest. She looked identical to Gren; same eye color, body structure, skin texture and the scar on the same eye. The only difference were the hands and feet; female Grendels had four toes, as the males only had three. She cradled the baby against her chest, as she watched Rosie worm her way and latch onto her right breast. She stroked the baby's head, as she nursed and closed her eyes.
"My Rosie," whispered Carla. "God, the shit mommy had to do..."
Gren laughed, as he kissed her forehead.
"You did good, Carla. She is perfect."
Snow, however, looked concerned and Carla instantly noticed it.
"Everything okay, Snow," she asked. "You look...worried..."
"She's going to need a glamour, Carla," replied Snow. "She can't-you two can't return until she is glamoured."
"You're going to fucking bring this shit up now," growled Gren. "We KNOW about the fuckin' glamour, alright? I don't think NOW is the time..."
"Stop, Gren," Carla said, as she grabbed his hand. "Just, don't. Not now...we will get on it, Snow. Trust me...me have one set up for her."
Carla wanted to drop the subject; right now, she was focused on her nursing baby. She continued stroking her back, while everyone surrounded them, to simply catch a glimpse at the baby.
Gren awoke the next morning to the eerie silence of the cave. Carla was nowhere to be found; the nest was empty and Rosie was gone. Gren leaped up into the air and dashed out into the snow. The air was frigid and heavy, as he pushed his way through the thick layer of snow. He pushed back several branches and tore down a few trees; his heart was racing and he began to panic.
"CARLA," he shouted into the air. "CARLA! CARLA!!"
The beast began to worry; he could feel the worry and anguish building up inside, the need to cry and scream into the air. He noticed several squirrels dodge into the trees; several deer perked their heads up from a bare meadow near by. But there was no sign of Carla or Rosie.
"CARLA! CARLA!!!"
Suddenly, Gren heard the faint reply from a woman; he ran to the banks and found Carla cradling Rosie; she was wrapped in an animal skin, as Rosie was bundled beneath her.
"Carla-"
"I'm sorry, sweetie. Rosie was fussy this morning and you looked so peaceful, that I took her out her to see the world...see the beauty."
Gren relaxed, as he wrapped his massive arms around Carla. Rosie began to kick and coo when she saw Gren. He leaned down and kissed his daughter's forehead; the baby reaching up to grab his face.
"I wanted Rosie to see your world..."
Gren smiled, as he leaned his face against Carla's ear. She closed her eyes and pressed herself against his chest.
"Close your eyes," he whispered in Carla's ear. "I want you to see what I see every time I come out here..."
Carla closed her eyes; the sun was above, shining down onto a large Mere and a green meadow; the flowers danced with the wind, as she watched Gren and Rosie play in the tall grass. Birds flew up ahead; tiny creatures ran from the two giant beasts running down the hill. They were not glamoured; she sighed, as she watched them play freely into the afternoon, without a care in the world. Gren too, saw everything Carla did.
For a moment, they were back in the Homelands. They knew eventually what would be waiting back home; the city, glamours and possibly the Council prepared to fight. The world behind them was ugly and sadly, their daughter would witness it everyday. But not now; today, she would be beside her and Gren, standing in his world.
She held Rosie close against her and Gren and continued to close their eyes and picture his world.
They were home.
Wow, congrats on finishing another story man! You and MasterStone!
Thanks.
Looking forward to starting on my next one. Have a lot of ideas for it! MIGHT change it around from what I originally posted earlier this week. 
Alright, pudding! Can't wait to see like always!