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]
Have not written in awhile so, here we go!
Chapter 4
I woke up and found myself slumped on a couch. My boss was still on the floor; th… moree broom wrapped so nicely around his arms.
I looked over and found Henry cleaning the bar; he looked annoyed, as I watched Hans mop around the bar.
"The hell happened," I asked, reaching for my phone.
"Well, after Georgie threw up and fell down, you joined him, then ended up on that couch. I WAS going to make you BOTH clean this up but Georgie and hangovers do not mix."
My head was indeed killing me. Fuck, no more drinks for me.
I got to my feet and stupidly walked to my room, turned on the shower and headed inside. The cold water would spruce me up. The pounding in my head, however, never left.
As I left the shower, my phone began to vibrate. It was an unknown number. Nope, I thought. Not today. It rang again, Paradise city filling my bathroom with loud guitar playing. I finally gave up… [view original content]
Katherine 'Katie' Porgie
Age: 19
Parents: Father; Georgie Porgie Mother; Lyla Smith
Powers: Katie, like her mother, has the abi… morelity to change into a werewolf. She has claw retraction, enhanced agility, speed, enhanced senses and hearing. As her father is a well known Fable, she is capable of withstanding anything that comes her path; she is a titan and is capable of handling anything. Katie also has a slight case of 'Semi-immortality.' Although she will eventually die in the future, Katie will not show signs of 'ageing' and continue to look young and radiant until the day she dies.
Siblings: Katie is part of Fabletown's 'Quad squad'; she has sisters Emily, Penny and brothers Junior, Ethan and Peter. The younger boys are not part of the 'quads;' they are fraternal twins; Ethan belongs to Georgie but Peter does not. Katie has some issues against Peter because of this very reason; tensions are created as they have gotten older.
… [view original content]
Thanks! And yeah, the comics are getting really, really dark. It's the beginning of the end, unfortunately. I don't want to spoil anything, but I'm dreading what might end up happening by the time the series ends.
"Another vacation?" Snow says, shutting her car door. I shrug, looking off down the cobblestone path to the street.
"I figured I saved en… moreough to explore somewhere else," I say.
She sighs, and wraps her arm around me shoulder," Alright. I guess you're your own person. Do you have any ideas of where you're going?"
I shrugs again," Wherever looks good."
She narrows her eyes and turns to face me before we get to the step to the doors.
"What's gotten into you? You're so....so glum!" She says.
"Glum? Me? No..." I laugh, but it's still obvious to her.
"Seriously. What's wrong?"
I look away, down the path that takes you to the courtyard. You can see the edge of the metal fence that used to house a giant glass statue I have come to call 'Grandpa'.
"It's something more person, I guess. Maybe I'll tell you later."
She frowns," Well it was nice having you over on the farm a few days. I gotta get going now, before I get back … [view original content]
"La' Vamos nos"
Summer vacation
'I already knew this was going to be a hassle; Georgie was not much for traveling, let alone going to … moresome foreign country he had never heard of. I was prepared for it all, however. Portugal, ready or not, here come the Porgies.'
"So, you don't mind watching the kids for me mom?"
I was frantically trying to pack the diaper bag for my mother's arrival. It was difficult trying to remember everything a baby needs for the week at Nana and Papa's house.
"It will be fine, Lyla. Your father and I are looking forward to the kids staying a week here. Gives them a chance to spend time with us, while YOU TWO get some alone time."
Georgie and I desperately needed to get out of Fabletown. Believe it or not, Snow offered me the money to fly to any part of the world. It didn't help I was feeling overwhelmed and desperate to get some peace and quiet. The quads were teething and getting into everything the… [view original content]
Emily Porgie
"That's pretty sad. I've seen bigger wieners in the hot dog section at the fuckin' grocery store, then what I'm lookin' … moreat right now!"
Age: 19
Powers: None that either she or her family know about. The only thing 'different' about Emily is her ability to take pain and not feel a thing. Perks to not only being a Fable but the daughter of infamous Georgie Porgie.
Job: Pimp and the new owner of the Pudding & Pie; her assistant is Hans Junior and bartender remains in the hands of Henry.
The apple sure as hell didn't fall far from the tree. Everyone, including the parents to be, were concerned about Junior becoming the next 'Georgie Porgie' of Fabletown. Years down the road, however, fell into the hands of Emily. She would rather be alone and tend to her business; the club is all she knows and does not appreciate people trying to put their noses in places it shouldn't be. Her club continues to be #1 with enterta… [view original content]
For the holiday challenge
The secret Chapter....or secret ending?
The Dragon Family Holiday
Newly married couple Draco the powerful… more half human half dragon and his wife, Viera a half human half phoenix are only their way to with their 4 year old son Marcelo to Silver Beach in Beihai China. They are accompanied by Bigby and his wife Snow and Bigby's brother Wolven and his wife Jenn.
Snow ,Jenn and Marcelo walked to the beach while, Draco, Bigby and Wolven discuss business matters.
Bigby gets straight to the point as he sniffs the air that is filled with the scent a grilled steak and chicken causing his belly to growl.
Bigby: Ok Draco. I understand what you and your wife have been through. But what happened down town with your son and those group of people, that can't happened again, he nearly killed all those people. The business office is all over Snows ass about this situation. People are still talking about-
Draco: T… [view original content]
Remember me MUAHAHHAHA I'm working on my next part and it will be here soon the final piece of Spark Among Us and I'll be back later to catch up on the awesome stories
It's a summer vacation tale! The first part of one, at least. I'd have put the other bit on however it might have been a lot all in one go. Anyway, seeing as I've left Mr Weasel in alley for quite some time now, and he has so far not emerged from it, this story takes place at an unspecified time; that's probably not too important, though.
Finally, the bold letters are to denote a new paragraph. I wanted to try and break it up a little, though I'm not sure if it works, so let me know.
As a glamoured Mr Weasel sits down in a comfortable booth at the I Am The Eggman Diner, the other occupants of the booth cannot fail to notice the garishly bright Hawaiian shirt that he wears. So arresting is this item of clothing, in fact, that passers-by of the diner can spot it through the window from the other side of the street; and it is very much likely that any orbiting satellite - provided it is at the correct angle - would detect the garment too.
With glorious hair and a black and white short-sleeved top sporting a particular flower emblem, Rose Red - who up to then had been sitting relaxed, drinking a glass of refreshing orange juice and with eyes un-affronted - stares at Weasel and simply says,
"No."
"No?" he inquires.
"No. I'm not going anywhere with you dressed in that ridiculous shirt."
"In fairness," chimes in Colin, who remains unglamoured while he sits there, and yet is - I assure you - discreetly placed, "it's not so much the shirt as the person wearing it. Sorry, Weasel - it just doesn't suit you. And it looks about three sizes too large."
A little disappointed by the reception of the shirt, Mr Weasel nevertheless admits that, "it's not actually my shirt. I borrowed it from Woody." At this there is a loud snorting, a snigger, and a slight spluttering of coffee, as Bigby Wolf contemplates the image of the Woodsman in such a shirt.
"Say, Sheriff," Weasel asks as Bigby composes himself, "will you be joining us on this vacation?"
"Unfortunately not. Someone's got to look after Fabletown and Snow will most likely need the help of a Sheriff."
"Spending the summer with Miss White, are we?" Colin asks suggestively, and with the pig equivalent of a raised eyebrow.
Bigby does not look particularly amused, though there is perhaps a little blushing behind his unshaven cheeks. "No. Actually, yes, but not like that. We can't all afford to go gallivanting, you know."
Colin leans back, looking pleased with himself, and gives a wink to Rose, who also enjoyed the insinuation about the Sheriff and her sister.
"How come you're here then? If you don't mind me asking," comes another question from Mr Weasel.
"I don't mind," replies Bigby. "I'm here because I've brought your number four." He gives a nod towards an open door by the side of the counter, from which a flying monkey comes flying out of with a large spherical object; and by the most unlikeliest of coincidences remains unseen by any Mundies in the vicinity.
"Hi there, Mr Weasel!" Bufkin cheerily greets.
"Hello, Bufkin. What's that you've got there?"
"This?" Comes his reply, despite there being nothing else about his person which would have caused such a question in the first place. "It's a globe." He plonks it down on the middle of the table with unabashed enthusiasm, making glasses and cups shake, spoons tinkle, and a spider underneath the table to fear for it's life. "So we can chose where to go," he happily explains, oblivious to the slight chaos he just produced.
"Shouldn't we wait for our number five?" Rose wonders aloud.
"Are we all numbers now?" Colin remarks to no one in particular.
"Who is your number five?" Bigby asks.
"No, we might as well start looking. He'll be here soon," Mr Weasel answers.
Start looking they do. Rose Red is quite set on the idea of Cuba, in particular of Havana, and relates a particularly wild second-hand anecdote involving a bicycle, many mojitos, and and an irked barracuda. Colin, meanwhile, thinks that Istanbul should be their destination, for the pig wishes to visit the Grand Bazaar. He has a penchant for fine rugs and carpets. Bufkin, who has been spinning the globe throughout the conversation and who continues to do so, declares that he wishes to visit the Okavango Delta, of all places, for he would like to ride a hippopotamus. Rose then points out that they could probably arrange that at a nearby Mundy zoo, much to Bigby's alarm. Before Mr Weasel has a chance to put forward his suggestion, Bufkin gives too energetic a swipe at the globe, and it falls onto the floor, splitting in two along the hemisphere. The monkey dives to the floor in a spot of panic, hoping to attach the north back to the south.
While Bufkin is thus engaged, a young man with blonde hair and a ponytail enters the diner. His blue denim waistcoat matches the colour of his eyes, and a grin comes out on his face when he sees the group in the booth. As he walks up to the booth and makes to sit down, he pauses and rears his head back.
"Whoa, Weasel. You got a permit for that shirt? 'cause its so loud it's causing a public disturbance!" The grin only gets wider.
Rose Red slaps her hand to her forehead in embarrassment, despite - or because of - being ever-so-slightly amused.
"Seriously?" says Bigby. "You picked Jack as your number five?"
"I best get some ear muffs if you don't turn it down," Jack carries on. "Hey, are you going to wear that when we go? If you are, I --"
"THANK YOU, Jack," interrupts Weasel. "We've already discussed the shirt. Why don't you just sit down," he says, as he moves up a little closer to the Sheriff.
"Why would you take him though?" Bigby comments again, bemused.
"How come you're here, Sheriff?" Jack asks when seated, a little peturbed by the Sheriff's question.
"He's coming with us," Rose answers Bigby, "because he's paying for half of the trip. Bigby is here because --"
"Hello, Mr Jack!" Cries Bufkin, making everyone jump - including Bigby. "I've fixed the globe!" He informs them, smiling once more and holding the object out in front of him.
"Why don't you take that back, Bufkin?" says Colin. "I don't think we're going to need it anymore."
"Uhm, okay. If you're sure." The monkey flies off to the door with it, and the pig is quite pleased not to have the object slammed down in front of him again; an emotion shared by the aforementioned spider.
"So we were all just saying where we'd like to go," Weasel tells Jack, "and I was about to say --"
"Paris," Jack cuts in, with seemingly assured confidence that Mr Weasel was about to say that very place.
"Erm, no. I'd like to go at some point, however I was going to suggest --"
"We should go to Paris," says Jack once more.
"You're really not getting the whole 'taking turns' idea of this conversation, are you?" Mr Weasel then glares at Jack. Jack simply ignores it.
"I've got this pamphlet -" starts Jack.
"Oh, goodie," comments Colin under his breath.
"- for Paris."
"Paris?" Rose Red is surprised at what now seems a serious proposal.
"Yes, my pretty little thing." Jack's daring response and broad smile do not charmeth the lady.
"Why Paris?" questions Bigby, equally taken aback by the suggestion.
"Promise not to laugh?"
"Heck no," responds Colin, though Jack carries on anyway, seemingly impervious to the responses of others.
"I'd like to visit the Musée du Parfum. You know, the Perfume Museum."
Here, due to an unusual synchronized ending in conversation around the rest of the diner, complete silence falls to correspond with Jack's statement. The others around the booth are mystified as to why Jack would want to go, so the silence carries on for moments; moments that Jack fills by nervously looking from one face to another.
"Huh" - Bigby is the first to speak - "I was not expecting that, Jacky-boy." As talk resumes around the rest of the establishment, Bufkin returns, and takes a seat in between Rose and Colin.
"What did I miss?" asks the flying monkey.
"Jack's gone soft on us," Colin says.
"I haven't, I just like the smell of perfume. There's an art to making it and I've always wondered just how many variations there are. Plus, we all might get a free sample." Once more there is a smile upon Jack's face.
"I hate to be the buzzkill here, guys," for being a buzzkill Bigby was about to be, "however I have to wonder how you're going to go to any of these places without glamour? You three -" meaning Mr Weasel, Bufkin, and Colin, "- would have to fork out a lot up front to keep you glamoured on your trip, and what if you ran out or something? Don't make me have to go on a rescue mission to pick you all up."
"Where are we going to go then?" Bufkin ponders, disheartened.
"I'm sure you'd fit in in Paris. Somehow," comes a certain response.
"I think I can be of assistance here." Declares Mr Weasel. "How about here?" and he produces a small leaflet.
"Seems exotic enough," concludes Rose Red.
"We wouldn't have to worry about glamour in that landscape," Colin and Bufkin agree.
"Does my opinion really matter here?" Bigby responds as the comes to his turn.
"I suppose they might have some rare flowers," concedes Jack. Bigby and Colin shoot him another puzzled look.
"Excellent!" is Mr Weasel's opinion. "It's settled. Cambodia, here we come."
I gotcha, Noir. Well, at least you're a better storyteller than me when it comes to your use of vocabulary and mystery added to your plot. Take it as a compliment, you deserve it.
And Tezoth is doin' alright, I haven't really been working on the story since I have been working on June's F.S.A. instead, y'know? My Fable contributors come first.
Very sharp of you, Dragon. They are relevant, to a degree, however my slowness at writing and not-brilliantly-executed storyline means that … moreI can understand why things would appear unconnected. I plan on joining the dots in the next part, and hopefully - I am particularly hopeful - will get it all finished in a part after that. Might be handy if I surmised a few things at some point, too.
By the by, how's Tezoth doing lately?
Another part? I thought you ended his story? No matter though, I'm excited and I definitely need to reread the previous installments of Spark's action-packed adventure.
Remember me MUAHAHHAHA I'm working on my next part and it will be here soon the final piece of Spark Among Us and I'll be back later to catch up on the awesome stories
Mr. Weasel in a Hawaiian shirt, huh? And a piece of clothing being from Woody too, out of all the people to boot! Ah man, that's amusing.
Seriously though, good job with the dialogue in this one. It felt like I was really there! Which I could have been in the matter. (insert evil laugh here)
It's a summer vacation tale! The first part of one, at least. I'd have put the other bit on however it might have been a lot all in one go. … moreAnyway, seeing as I've left Mr Weasel in alley for quite some time now, and he has so far not emerged from it, this story takes place at an unspecified time; that's probably not too important, though.
Finally, the bold letters are to denote a new paragraph. I wanted to try and break it up a little, though I'm not sure if it works, so let me know.
As a glamoured Mr Weasel sits down in a comfortable booth at the I Am The Eggman Diner, the other occupants of the booth cannot fail to notice the garishly bright Hawaiian shirt that he wears. So arresting is this item of clothing, in fact, that passers-by of the diner can spot it through the window from the other side of the street; and it is very much likely that any orbiting satellite - provided it is at the correct angle - would detect the garment too.
… [view original content]
When Georgie and I walked back to the hotel, my stomach began to gurgle like a bear in a cave. I placed the bag down and watched as Georgie stripped down and plop on the bed. He reached for the remote and clicked through every channel, not understanding a word they were speaking.
"For fuck's sake," he mumbled, as his finger continued to slam the 'next' button. "C'mon! There has to be something here I can understand!"
"y para este pequeño perro días Que se pudo nadar más rápido que cualquier otra cosa en el mundo," said the news lady.
"FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUCK!"
I watched as the remote went flying and slammed into the wall.
"Eh, mushy mushy to you to!"
"GEORGIE!"
"What?! I don't get what they are saying...."
"Stop your complaining and get dressed. I'm hungry. There was this cute little restaurant near the hotel."
I could see him struggle to get up to my surprise, Georgie was in the bathroom, pressed against the sink and shaving. Although he was talking to himself and the 'F' bomb was dropped an awful let, I had to give him credit. I took a shower, fixed my hair and makeup and wore a simple yellow dress with black wedges. Georgie wore a simple plain black dress shirt with dark jeans and converse. He looked so handsome.
Arm in arm, we walked out into the streets of Portugal. Oh, how I wished the kids were here with us. But my time with Georgie was needed, as this whole vacation idea. We walked a bit further until we reached the 'Vermelho' took a seat outside and watched as the sun began to set over the sea of Portugal.
"Oh, Georgie. Isn't this so romantic?"
I could tell he was a bit distracted by the menu; EVERYTHING was written in Portuguese and like a child, he was trying to determine by the pictures. He understood the wine section but nothing more. When our young waiter returned, I had my meal picked and ready to go. I'd throw Georgie a life preserver when my turn was up.
"Yes," I replied to the waiter, pen in hand. "Terei a pige recheado e um copo de vinho tinto, por favor.."
I watched as the waiter scribbled furiously every word I said. Georgie, however, was looking directly at me like a lost child; his eyes were wide, appeared lost and his mouth was gaped slightly open. Because I loved him and couldn't bare to see him so confused, I ordered him a dish I knew he would enjoy.
"Ele vai ter o seu frango grelhado e um copo de cerveja, por favor."
The waiter thanked me and Georgie and soon, he was back to the kitchen to place our order. Georgie, however, never budged. I was worried perhaps he was broken or lost in a spinning vortex.
"I...I....," he began to stutter. "I had...had no idea you spoke Portuguese. Wha-I mean...what did you order me?"
"I know some," I replied, thankful to see him still alive. "I know enough to get us by on this trip. I got you a simple dish-grilled chicken season with piri, garlic and olive oil. Oh, and a glass of beer as well."
Georgie leaned across the table and kissed my lips. He was smiling; his eyes glistened against the blue sea and sun setting beside us.
"You know me so well, love...."
We sat and watched as various groups of people walked by. The music surrounding us grew louder, as the lights dimmed down and the employees began lighting the candles on our table and around us. The night was gently blowing, as we held hands and watched the world around us. While we waited, I managed to get a call from Snow.
"How is the trip," she asked.
"It's amazing, Snow! Thank you again for the extra help. We BOTH needed this..."
"Well, just do me one thing-take a lot of pictures, have fun and TRY to keep Georgie sane. I'm sure he's having a difficult time adjusting to the uh, culture around him."
I chuckled, as I stared at Georgie. He was throwing bits of bread in the direction of a group of gulls. He was determined to move them away from our table.
"Fuckin' birds," he yelled, throwing a rather large piece into the crowd. "I hate them so much!"
As I kicked his leg, our waiter returned with our meals. I thanked Snow once more and hung up the phone. I figured I'd call the kids later; we were 8 hours ahead and I was certain they were asleep. He placed our meals down; the smell was intoxicating.
"Bom apetite. Espero que gostem de tudo."
I thanked him, as a confused Georgie simply waved and began tearing into the chicken. The meal was exquisite; the flavors danced on my pallet, the different spices and oils swirling around my throat. This brought me back to my childhood years. My great grandfather died when I was 3 but the memories were very much there. I could still remember the first time I enjoyed his traditional Portuguese cooking. Georgie, too, seemed to be enjoying the meal. He was very quiet.
After we finished dinner and ordered a few more drinks, Georgie paid for the meal and soon, we were headed to the hotel. We ordered room service; Georgie and I got a giant slice of cake and another bottle of wine. We were enjoying this; no kids, no club...no Fabletown.
Tomorrow, we would try and attempt horse riding and mountain biking. My thought of Georgie trying to ride a horse was entertaining in my mind. For now, this cake was too heavenly, as Georgie and I sank deeper into the bed.
Minds will be blown if that were the case.
Plus, I wish good luck to you at summer school, dude. Though you'll just probably be sleeping on the desk in back, right? XD
Powers: Since her birth, Penny was capable of moving objects derived from love and happiness. Over the years, however, she has learned to conceal her powers, due to the Council and the ongoing war. From time to time, however, she likes to walk out into the forest and test her power's strength.
Family: Her father is Georgie Porgie, the notorious pimp and club owner of the Pudding & Pie, Lyla Smith, daughter of a werewolf and Georgie's life. Sisters Emily and Katie; brothers Junior, Ethan and Peter. Like Katie, she does not tolerate Peter and refuses to acknowledge him as her 'brother.' This had caused many problems between the siblings and even divided them, when it comes to respect.
Job: Like Lyla was, Penny has started her life on the pole. She does NOT work for her father's club; that was too weird, even though Emily now held the deed to the club. She is employed for Oliver, a long time friend of her father at the 'Silver Slipper topless dancers.' It's not too bad-Oliver respects Penny and allows her to choose her clients, schedule and keeps the majority of money she earns. She occasionally helps Oliver with the books and keeps tabs on the other dancers. In a way, she is living the very life her mother did years ago.
Weakness: Her only weakness is an ancient plant called 'Gunnera Tinctoria' a very rare plant but has the ability to blind her and her powers to disappear for 24 hours. Since her first encounter, Lola has created a liquid potion capable of shielding the girl from this flower. No one knows who found the plant but Lyla is sure 'Council' is written all over this.
Penny is like Lyla; when she turned 18, she ran off into the streets of Fabletown and joined Oliver's strip club. Georgie was furious and this caused tension between the clubs. Although she and her father now have an understanding, he would prefer his daughter to not partake in the sins these clubs create. He, however, would be a hypocrite. Penny is Oliver's girl, so he treats her with more respect and dignity. Penny refuses to discuss her father and the infamous song that has haunted him for years. Growing up, she became ashamed of Georgie, thus creating hostility towards the two. She's not saying her love is not there for her father...she's so stunned with all the skeletons he had in the closet.
Dear Diary-My dad called me today. He sounds sad; devastated and confused. I'm so fucking pissed off at him. Not sure why. I mean, I love him...he's done so much. I just, hate him right now...its quiet right now. The club is closed; Oliver is getting high in the lounge again. I really wish he would stop that shit. He loves me, I KNOW he does. He's stupid on the stuff and his choices are terrible. The bruise is going down, now. Dad would fucking kill him if he saw this...hypocrite, if you ask me, though...better get going. I'm on in 2 hours and I hear glass breaking again.
"Just because I look like him, even share his name, does not make me him."
Age: 19
Job: Cashier at a sport's bar and part time bartender-in-training at the Trip Trap.
Kids: 2; one boy one girl
Powers: Like his sister, Junior possesses the ability to move things with his hands and mind. His powers, however, come from this genetic inheritances from his father; hate, sadness and anger fuel the power within and when he was first born, this caused trouble for the family and community. When he was a few months old, however, Vivian 'marked' him with the Willow Tree symbol, which allowed the boy to control his power with love, hope and faith.
Markings: Vivian marked his back with the tree symbol. Since then, the two have 'connected' and were destined to be together always. He has been the one thing to help 'calm' him down, should he lose his way.
Junior loves his father and is very loyal to him. His powers were once connected to Georgie's feelings and everything that was locked away for years. He is nothing like him, despite the two sharing similar names and striking characteristics. He's very sensitive, kind and has the ability to look past anyone's flaws. His once brown eyes turned an icy blue when Vivian marked him all those years ago. Junior and Vivian became a couple and soon, the two fell madly in love. He became a young father, however and caused an uproar in the community. Now, he and Vivian share a two bedroom apartment downtown. He works two jobs to help provide for his rapidly growing family. He loves it, though; it maybe hard at times but he wouldn't change it for the world.
Dear Diary-It's been a long night. It was busy at the bar; I made $300 alone on tips. This should cover the electric bill and help with food. We are behind this month but I'm looking ahead and staying positive. Vivian loves staying home with the kids...I'd hate to have her work. That's my job...Sheila is sick. Medical bills. George has been showing his powers lately. I'm scared...I remember all too well what that was like. But, I'm staying positive. Wish me luck...today I apply for a loan to get a bigger car.
Penelope and Georgie Junior Porgie
Mommy's little dancer
Age: 19
Powers: Since her birth, Penny was capable of moving objects d… moreerived from love and happiness. Over the years, however, she has learned to conceal her powers, due to the Council and the ongoing war. From time to time, however, she likes to walk out into the forest and test her power's strength.
Family: Her father is Georgie Porgie, the notorious pimp and club owner of the Pudding & Pie, Lyla Smith, daughter of a werewolf and Georgie's life. Sisters Emily and Katie; brothers Junior, Ethan and Peter. Like Katie, she does not tolerate Peter and refuses to acknowledge him as her 'brother.' This had caused many problems between the siblings and even divided them, when it comes to respect.
Job: Like Lyla was, Penny has started her life on the pole. She does NOT work for her father's club; that was too weird, even though Emily now held the deed to the club. She is… [view original content]
I'd argue otherwise, though I shall graciously accept your compliment anyway
Can't believe it's been a month since the inaugural F.S.A. I admire your dedication to us contributors, and I'm sure I speak for many when I thank you for it! It's all inspirational, dude. I will therefore patiently await Tezoth's return at some point in future.
I gotcha, Noir. Well, at least you're a better storyteller than me when it comes to your use of vocabulary and mystery added to your plot. T… moreake it as a compliment, you deserve it.
And Tezoth is doin' alright, I haven't really been working on the story since I have been working on June's F.S.A. instead, y'know? My Fable contributors come first.
Mr. Weasel in a Hawaiian shirt, huh? And a piece of clothing being from Woody too, out of all the people to boot! Ah man, that's amusing.
… more Seriously though, good job with the dialogue in this one. It felt like I was really there! Which I could have been in the matter. (insert evil laugh here)
Summer Vacation
Part 2
When Georgie and I walked back to the hotel, my stomach began to gurgle like a bear in a cave. I placed the bag… more down and watched as Georgie stripped down and plop on the bed. He reached for the remote and clicked through every channel, not understanding a word they were speaking.
"For fuck's sake," he mumbled, as his finger continued to slam the 'next' button. "C'mon! There has to be something here I can understand!"
"y para este pequeño perro días Que se pudo nadar más rápido que cualquier otra cosa en el mundo," said the news lady.
"FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUCK!"
I watched as the remote went flying and slammed into the wall.
"Eh, mushy mushy to you to!"
"GEORGIE!"
"What?! I don't get what they are saying...."
"Stop your complaining and get dressed. I'm hungry. There was this cute little restaurant near the hotel."
I could see him struggle to get up to my surprise, Georgie was in the bathroom, pre… [view original content]
Haha! That dog bit with the news made me laugh, presuming it's translated correctly :P
Interesting choice with changing the perspective and writing in first-person. Makes it feel more intimate, so to speak.
The group sat down and began chowing down on the delicious steak and beef cooked over the grill by Draco's flames. The smell continued to fill the air. Normally it would of attracted other animals, but since there are 3 wolfs present, they dare not approach the camp.
Draco and his son Marcello walks over to the tip of the beach. The waves brushed across the sand washing up shells and rock. The neon colored fish swam in shores nearby and from a short distance glowing seahorses can be seen under a small coral reef.
He hears something in the water. It slowly approaches the shore, and when it does it reveals itself as a watery ghostly figure. I grabs Draco by his legs and begins to drag him into the salty water.
Draco: No NOO! I can't swim! I can't swim! Marcello get your motherrr!
Marcello runs to his mother and tells her what happened. She tells Marcello to stay with the others while she rescues Draco from the Shui gui's grasp. Viera makes it to where Draco was taken. She see's Draco body laying on the beach. She rushes over to him and turns him over, and when he opens his eyes he attacks Viera.
Viera: Draco what are you doing?!
Shui Gui: Draco's not here anymore darling. I took his body and his soul belongs to the ocean now. And don't even think about exorcising me, if you do you never find your husbands soul.
Viera: You died here didn't you? That why you became a Shui gui... If we can lay you to rest-
Shui gui: Sorry darling, I want to live again. I might find another body on the way but for this handsome fella will just have to do- Wait what is that you are holding..? GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!
Viera is holding a something with Chinese scriptures. She begins to read them out loud to the Shui gui.
Yu Mo Gui Gwai Fai Di Zao
The water ghost begins to shake before bursting out of Draco body and evaporating into the sky letting out a peaceful scream.. After a while Draco regains conscious and wakes up his wife arms.
Draco: What...what the hell happen?
Viera You got possessed by a Shui gui, a water ghost. I took care of it.
Draco: Sigh, we came here for relaxation and to get away from problems like this. Yet we still get caught up..
Viera: No matter how hard we try Draco, what you, me and Marcello are, we will always have problems to deal with. Supernatural or Not, either way we can deal them. We have to be there for our son.
Draco: You are right, we have to be there for Marcello. He's growing up so fast... and getting stronger each day...
Draco and Viera returned to the camp and soon as they arrived the fireworks began to fire up into the night sky. Marcello ran towards them and hugged the two. They looked up into the sky and smiled.
The Werewolf Mundy Chronicle(still working title). Early Halloween special in 3 parts:
The Invitation
Part 1: The Diplomat
Albany, NY October 1968
The frost-coated grass crunched under the weight of Eric's cleats, announcing his retirement, and that of a few other students, to the locker room. Outside, sweat beaded down their foreheads, gently cooling in the still, dry air, under the stale gray sky. Inside, The perspiration grew dense in the small area where they changed, creating a pungent fragrance.
"This party is gonna be a gas," said one boy. "Eric, did you get all the invites handed out?"
"Yeah Blake, all except Tod's," he answered.
"Seriously man? This again?" said Blake. "We've been over this."
"Yeah, seriously, he's really an awesome cat when you get to know him, and I don't think he's ever been to a party before."
"That doesn't surprise me," said another. "If not for you, I don't think he'd have any friends at all."
"Dan, come on, nobody's a loner because they want to be," Eric pleaded. "Give him a chance, maybe he'll like hanging with us."
"'With us'?" another kid blurted. "You feel free to bend over backwards for him whenever you preach your little man crush, Eric, but keep one thing in mind: we up here," he said, raising his hand up to mark the air, then dropping it down low, saying, "he down here."
"You sure that's your bag, Greg? You sure it's not about how thick a beard he can grow in a day?" Eric retorted. "Look, I'm inviting him. He needs this, he just doesn't know it yet."
Blake shrugged. "Alright," he said as he put his pads in his locker and shut it.
Greg winced. "What? No."
"You want to invite the freak, go ahead. Feel free to try and ignore him if he shows up, Greg. But Eric: he has until enough people can't be around him. And the pool is off-limits, so is the apple-bobbing."
"Thanks, Blake," Eric smiled. "I'll make sure he knows the rules."
When Eric strolled out, Blake added one last word with the rest of the invited students. "You want him out, you're free to spread your dislike to anyone who will listen. But anyone trying to fuck with anyone gets thrown out."
When that final word was said and the speaker had left, Greg and Dan exchanged determined looks as they waited for the rest to clear out. Finally, they hefted their backpacks over their shoulders, half-testing the weight of the contents within.
"We just get a few people together and rotate on the door, and make sure they know that at least one name on that list is a mistake." Dan asked. "Shouldn't be a problem."
Greg shook his head. "Whatever."
Distracted by the tingling sensation of the friction of dry, rough skin, I rubbed my palms together to cope with the monotonous wait. When it became clear no one was going to sit down next to me, I curled up on the bench inside the bus booth as I awaited its arrival. I didn't mind, though the bus was still nowhere in sight fifteen minutes later, when I heard the clomping of hurried feet approaching. They echoed when they entered the booth, heralding the greeting of a fellow bus rider.
"Heya Tod," Eric panted.
"Hey," I replied. "What's got you worked up?"
"Oh," he breathed, catching his breath before he answered. "You know, Halloween is coming up, right?"
"Yeah...why?" I asked guardedly.
"Okay, so there's gonna be a party at Blake's!" he blurted. "Not a school party, I mean a house party. You know Blake, right? They've been planning this for a while, since they learned the parents will be gone for the night."
"Oh no. You want me to come."
"Uh, yeah! It would be just the coolest to have you there! I mean you..."
"Eric, this is a bad idea and you know it."
A thundering of an engine and exhaust alerted us to the suppression of a topic forbidden in public. Eric and I stepped on, paid our tickets and took seats in the back, luckily unoccupied early on in the bus's route around town. Taking a seat across from me, Eric pleaded across the aisle, asking me, "Have you ever been to a party before, Tod? Have you ever had any friends outside of work?" to both of which I answered "no".
"That's what I'm talking about," Eric groaned. "You're missing out on so much, and why? I mean, you let me, uh...so, why can't you just say 'fuck it' and do what you want?"
"Because," I answered, "whether I like it or not, I'm different. I can't really be friends with people without just being 'myself' around them."
"You are 'yourself' to me," Eric pointed out.
"Okay, true. But to everyone? To open up? You know what'll happen if I do that," I explained, barely above a hushed tone. "People disappear and we leave town."
"So then don't be you around them!" he nearly yelled. "Just be 'you' around me. Isn't that enough?"
"No!" I hissed. "Besides, the moon's gonna be full that weekend! You think I don't check the calendar for this crap? Even then, between the 3rd quarter and full, things get kinda...furry!"
That caused Eric to hesitate. "Well, it's a costume party," he finally countered. "If we can create a costume that covers you up, you don't have to 'be yourself', and people won't see you wiggin' out."
I hesitated. "What do you have in mind?"
"Listen, my dad's a real paper-machet artist," Eric pitched as the bus slowed to a halt. "He does my costumes all the time. Come to my house in a couple days when he's home, and we'll talk him into it. He'll probably love the irony so much, that he'll want to get started right away!"
I shot him a glare. Said glare became a stare, then a thoughtful smile. And then a wicked grin. "Hmm. Heh, that's not bad," I chuckled. "That's...I like that, actually."
"Yeah man. You just have to take it off at the door, put it back on, and when you walk in and around people, they won't know it's you! Well, if we do a good job. If not, at the very least they won't care, and you won't feel awkward."
"Alright, I'm sold," I grinned. I was sold on the idea of masquerading, pretending to look like something else and the irony behind the look we were going with. "We'll see how this works out. Wait, you didn't tell your dad about me, did you!?"
"What? No! Y'know, cuz your hair grows fast..."
"Well good. I mean, you know," I hastened. "Cuz I meant what I said, Eric. And I still do."
Whoops, couple typos. A couple in the other parts, fixed those already.
The Invitation
Part 2: The Butterfly
Faint sound of psychedelic rock reverbrated from within the house to the porch I found myself standing on, lit by a lone, brass lamplight over the open door. A broad-shouldered boy stood in my path, casting an stern look my way under curly hair.
"Mask off first, buddy. You can put it on back inside."
He already seemed like he knew who I was underneath the wolf's head. I grasped the fur-coated sides of the neck, which covered me from the base of mine to my lower jaw before extending into a solid snout under my eyes, and lifted it up over my head. The light perspiration on my skin cooled in the open air, absent the stuffy hollow of the mask.
"Tod, Tod," he muttered, pretending to check the little notepad in his hand. "Sorry, I don't see you on here."
"Seriously, Dan?"
"Come to think of it, I don't see you on here either, Eric," he continued.
"Yeah, whatever Dan. I'm just gonna go talk to-"
"Talk to Blake? Is that who you were gonna say?" Dan moved to block the door. "You don't wanna start anything, do you?"
"Goddammit, Dan."
"Sorry pal, you guys aren't invited." Dan shut the door firmly in our faces, followed by an audible "click".
"Of course," Eric fumed.
"Well, guess that's that," I shrugged. "It was a nice costume, though."
Eric shot me a dumbfounded look. "We've come this far and you're just giving up? I invited you and I'm not going in without you. We'll just go around back, by the pool, and I'll go have a chat with Blake."
I shook my head and put my wolf head back on. "Alright."
Eric led me around the side of bricklaid house on a paved sidewalk. When the terrace on the second floor in the back came into view, noticing guests hanging out there, I pulled Eric back with the trees.
"What?" he hissed.
"Don't you see the guests?"
"Don't worry about them," he replied, "I know who to watch out for."
As we continued down the sidewalk around back towards a set of stairs, my eyes were drawn to the myriad of masks being worn to the party: superheroes, vampires, angels and devils, frankensteins, werewolves, and various novelty entities. We decided that I would ascend the stairs first before Eric, with the logic that seeing us separate from each other would dissuade the thought putting two and two together concerning who I was underneath the wolf suit. Then I would try to find Blake. I didn't tell him I wasn't going to tolerate this. As I stepped up each step of the stairs, another friendly "doorman" approached from the poolside as soon as my head rose above the balcony.
One wrong word, and I would lay him out with a sucker punch and chuck him down the stairs. Blake still needed to learn that just threatening troublemakers with ending the fun times early and expecting it to work, like wearing a lucky rabbit's foot, isn't enough to stop trouble from happening 100% of the time. The jock met me at the top, blocking my way, with an air of confidence he undoubtedly earned the right to have, but only I knew it secretly to be unfounded.
"Take a piss in the woods, did you?" he huffed. "Take off the mask."
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the party-goers, coated in feathers and wearing a bird mask made much lighter than my wolf head, walking in my direction.
"I'm here with them," I said, pointing with my finger for lack of a visible chin to nod with.
"Move over, guard dog, this puppy's with me," the guest ordered, whoever she was.
"Oh," he groaned as he stepped aside, with hints of repulsion, pity, and contempt all at once. "By all means, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your...mingling."
The mysterious bird-suited lady took me by the hand and led me away from the stairs, toward some vacant table by railing of the terrace, passing two other guests similarly dressed as we were. Their 'faces' followed our movement until we fully passed them, and I distinctly heard a muffled giggling as we did. I wasn't fond of the view of the backyard from under the lights of the pool. I could see perfectly, but the contrast had the barest hint of a black-out effect on my view from the terrace.
"Anyone coming to a Halloween party wearing that deserves to be let in," my admirer explained. "Did you make it yourself?"
"Just the fur."
"Do you mind if I...feel it?" Her eyes, the only part of her showing through her costume besides her hair, betrayed the impulse.
"Sure, whatever."
I held out an arm, and the bird lady slipped a hand out of one of her "wings", and let her fingers glide along the wolf hair experimentally. Her eyes widened, and she continued to massage the hair as though it still grew from the animal it belonged to. As she did, her focus shifted from the arm to some space over my shoulder.
"I'll just go find Blake while you, uh, mingle," Eric shifted, excusing himself. "Just so you know, you shouldn't feel forced into anything."
"I know how to be social, Eric," I whispered back.
"It feels so real," she marveled while Eric slinked off. "Did it come from...?"
"No animals were harmed in the creation of this costume," I postured languidly. "Hey, I'm gonna go explore for a little while. Back in a bit, 'k?"
"Whatever you say, wolfman. Just ask for 'Sadie' when you want to find me, everybody knows my name."
"Sure."
I vamoosed out of there at a brisk pace. Windows lined the brick wall from the stairs to the archway exits. Through them, I could see a crowd gathered in a dimly lit room, all shaking their hips and popping wrists and knees in an odd form of recreational exercise. I moved under one of the archways and stalked the hall I entered to the door closest to the source of the music. Now almost involved in the scene, anxiety clawed at my chest, and instinctively I backed up against the wall. Time slowed to a crawl as I stared uncomfortably at the moving bodies, bopping and shaking to familiar music. The music, echoing through my ears, met with my mood, and other sensations--like the smell of sweat--in my mind, and became warped as it got lost in the woods with the rest of my thoughts. I couldn't, wouldn't, shake the the thought that I might be discovered and booted from the party. It was a feeling that accompanied me whenever I wandered into social settings. Banned from the proverbial treehouse before I even set foot in the yard when I was a little boy. Now I was around new peers, maturing minds, but the general disposition only darkened.
"Hey there."
Suddenly jerked from my deep slow brood, noticing the change in the music to something of an equally deliberate tempo, I whipped my head in the direction of the bubbly voice addressing me. It belonged to a schoolgirl, half a foot taller than me, wearing a homemade cowboy costume, clearly meant to imitate Clint Eastwood's role in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.
"How long have you been eyeing the cattle, wolf?" she asked playfully. "Go after any strays in this corral, and I may have to deal with you myself."
"Funny," came my muffled reply, half going along with her game. "As if I'm interested in any of 'your cattle', Calamity Jane."
"I'm not too sure about that." She leaned back against the wall next to me. "You don't look delicate enough to be a wallflower."
"You should probably go find a pretty one pluck it, then," I huffed.
"The second you walked in here, I could tell you were curious about something," the amazonian spoke plainly. "You want to give dancing a try, but you're intimidated by the scene."
"This is a social event," I replied, "and we're talking. I don't have to do anything."
She smirked. "Which do you think is more fun? Talking, or doing? You seem like you're out of your element, so I'm being persistent. You should be grateful."
I sighed. "Okay. A few. If you don't mind offering lessons."
"Not at all. Name's Linda."
"I'm Al."
She offered her arm. "Shall we then, Al?"
So I took her arm, and we both moved away from the wall. We started a fair distance from the crowd of hugging couples, and she began offering instruction, "move your feet this way," "try not to step too close," and calling out numbers to a rhythm. Just as I was beginning to get the hang of it, the current mix tape was switched out for the previous one. Immediately she began to teach me how to dance to funk. I bumped into her and other guests enough to the point where she began showing me how to twist, and do other simple hand and leg moves.
"Hey, I'm feeling worn-out," she called out. "You wanna grab us drinks? I'll meet you out by the pool."
"Where are they?"
"Oh, good god."
After Linda told me where to go, I departed for the drinks, grabbing two different brands. I caught more than one guest watching me, and I could still feel the stares shooting daggers at my back as I left. I rejoined Linda far towards the far end of the terrace away from the stairs. She tipped her hat as I approached.
"Sorry about earlier," I apologized. "I can't dance for shit."
"Oh, it ain't nothin'," she said, putting a country twang in her voice. "Ain't no trouble, I got no bone with teaching a city slick like yourself how to tango."
"'City slick'? I think you got the whole thing backwards when you put on the accent," I quipped.
"Guess I did, but that ain't stoppin' me, greenhorn," she giggled.
I heard footsteps, and turned to look behind me. It was Eric, making a beeline for us. "Hey buddy," he greeted, "been looking all over for you."
"Oh hello," Linda chimed, "you with him?"
"We're friends, if that's what you're asking," I answered. "How'd it go with Blake?"
"He met with the doorman to find out who's being assholes," Eric answered. "Got that whole mess sorted out. How have you been getting along?"
"Just great, thanks."
"Great! I told you it would be fun," he beamed. "Uh, so someone just...dukied in the pool, so Blake declared the pool deck off-limits. If you wanna stay out back, it's the lawn or nothing."
Linda grabbed my hand. "Why don't we head out to the pasture?"
"Um, hey, maybe we should just go back inside," Eric pined nervously. "It's kinda cold out here..."
"Yeah, well it's hot in there," she snapped. "Al, you coming?"
I glanced at Eric. He was shaking his head. "It's hot in there, man. We won't be long."
"Just...don't do anything...dumb?" he replied. "Seriously, I mean it."
The lawn was still dark, but the two of us kept ourselves closer to the side of the terrace, under the light. Our conversation quickly faltered, descending to topics related to our costumes, like the Wild West and werewolves. I had to check myself twice before giving away anything about my condition, or saying things that would give Linda cause to doubt my sanity. She in turn didn't say much of interest other than growing up on a farm and having a flair for the western scene.
"Come on, take it off!" she pleaded.
"You sure?" I dramatized. "Do you really want to see the nightmare I keep hidden from the world?"
"That fur felt pretty real in the music room. I've had enough of Mr. Hyde, I want to meet Dr. Jekyll!"
Whether from feeling stuck with her, or just relaxed around her, like an idiot I took off my mask. I expected she might be turned off to know it was Tod the hairy loner underneath the wolf head. Her face registered only a mild surprise, and then wonder. Then came the slew of questions about my wolfish hair growth. The rare moments I gave into curiosity of the few who bothered to stop me in the hall during regular school hours were maddening, especially concerning the more direct questions I had to dodge. Answering them for someone who found me more fascinating than curious or freakish lessened the blow, to the point where it wasn't a blow at all. It spilled over from my hair care habits to my personal life.
I had never felt what came over me that day as strongly, or ever before. I interjected with my own query, a red herring to get her talking. When I finally got myself worked up, I put my hand her shoulder, took off her rawhide hat ceremoniously, then pursed my lips and planted them on Linda's. She embraced it, but only for a little while before pulling back, absently touching her mouth, then promply dismissing herself.
"I...that...I have to go," she announced, hurrying off at a brisk pace, leaving me with her hat.
It took a moment for me to shake off the confusion of the forces clashing in my mind. "Wait, you left your hat!" Hat held high, I trotted after her.
Hope you like the little bit I added at the end. A little nod, a little homage.
The Invitation
Part 3: The Beast
Rough knuckles struck my cheeks and jaw. One lay right into my eye, forcing it shut as I opened the other to the darkness of night. Crickets and cicadas chirped in the distance, none nearby to witness the situation in which I came to. In my one open, beast-tainted eye, light from the moon faintly lit up the lush green of the grass and crisp orange spectrum of tree leaves yet to fall from their deep russet branches. Though metaphorically present, blue was the only color missing from the scene. As I turned my head, the emblazoned "S" on Eric's navy blue costume drew my sight to him as I strained against rough, scratching bark to move toward him, realizing then that I was tied to the trunk of a thick tree.
"Waking up?"
I felt knuckles impale my belly, knocking air out of me. The air agitated in the wake of the blow brought the familiar whiff of eau de scotch to my nose. I moaned out my pain from the tummy ache forced into me the wrong way. I lifted my head toward the direction the punch came from, only getting enough time to count the scant number of people not tied to trees as opposed to just the two, before my gaze was knocked away by another slug to the temple. Still wheezing, I became aware of pain not caused by the blows I felt, and a dull sensation below burgeoning to an unbearable ache.
"Good. You need to know why this is happening," came a voice from in front of me, heralding a bop to the mouth. "You went too far tonight. Crossed the line."
I spit up the tooth I cut my tongue on when it got pushed in, and looked up again. Greg, tough guy jock type, seemed to have it out for me since day one. Maybe it was my accent, maybe it was the beard. He certainly had it out for me for quite a few months, perhaps signs of his deep brooding at near-fruition, near boiling. It was certainly boiling now.
"Stop it!"
Another blow to my gut. I wheezed. "Wrong girl, pal. Wrong girl. From now on, you'll stay away from Linda, if you learned anything tonight."
My body jerked involuntarily, instinctively attempting to cradle and nurse the pain dealt mainly to my gut and groin. I had suffered more while I wasn't awake to feel it. I looked up at the sky. Couldn't see a thing, but I could feel the hair on my arms and legs thicken, my face taking on a shape between two kinds. My fingernails narrowed, lengthened, thickened, and my body got just a bit beefier.
"What the...no! Tod, don't!"
I shot Eric a look and responded with a growl.
"Really, man...you can't!"
Greg turned and struck Eric across the mouth. "Don't undermine the lesson I'm teaching your pet freak, Eric!"
Thunder roiled in the distance, and I sympathized. These kids had it coming so bad, but I was forced to wait. For Eric's sake, I did my best to hold back the beast, putting the claws away. My torso hair slightly poked out from the collar of my longsleeve shirt as I heaved through my nose, my lungs convulsing slightly within my chest, expanding and contracting at a quickening pace. Out of the blue, I felt a power building in me I had never known was there. I desperately wanted to give it a try, but Greg continued to beat Eric in what I assumed was an attempt to silence him, to teach him not to speak out of turn. My sight, through what was currently my good eye, narrowed on Greg to the point where I had to swivel my neck to count the other four disgruntled, drunken future fratboys. Thankfully, they were, far as I could tell, "lined up" for my one, newly-discovered shot at turning the tables without tearing the lot of them to shreds.
"What lesson?" I sputtered. "The only lesson I see you teaching is what not to be. Look in the mirror, Greg! Lessons galore!"
Greg stopped, hesitating a moment, not yet bothering to turn. "What?"
"I bet you wish you could 'teach' her. You're all hot to trot for her, but you can't get within a yard of her to even speak to her," I yammered.
Greg turned. Whatever satisfaction previously graced his face before had left, replaced by bewildered indignation.
"Must be aggravating, 'specially for your diminutive, sociopathic wits. To cope, you feel you have to take your dirty frustration out on the one thing you feel threatened by."
Greg was close now. He was in my face, so close I could spit in his.
"You were beating on him just a second ago, but...you and me, we both know it's not Eric," I chuckled.
Greg let loose the powerful blow he had wound back since closing in on me.
Eric gasped. "Jesus, Tod!"
I felt the wind go out of me again, and it felt like it would be a while before I could gather it up. Meanwhile, I hadn't fully reeled from the blow as Greg slammed his fist across my face. He grabbed my hair and held it fast, bringing blow after blow against me. My soul cried out as he drew blood, and I roared in pain as the soft structure of my nose gave out against his assault. Finally he stopped, and I desperately began gathering myself, my breathing turning ragged.
"I don't think that's enough to teach you," Greg muttered. "Teach him, boys."
The "boys" slowly advanced on me, grinning almost maniacally in the blurry, high contrast of my lowlight vision.
"Teach him all the way."
It was now or never. I inhaled sharply, exhaled, inhaled deeper, exhaled, gathering more power. Finally, I could feel that power fighting in my lungs, begging to be set forth, anticipating the debut of its revelation. And I obliged. I blew, and the force of my breath was released in a torrent of wind that knocked everyone in front of me off their feet, propelling them with the force of a storm. Trees creaked under the force of my breath as the bodies of the students slammed against them. Some of them didn't get up.
"Oww...god, what was that!?" one panicked, as the thunder conveniently bellowed on cue.
"Storm's coming..." one croaked. "we gotta go..."
They each trampled off as soon as they could get to their feet, leaving behind the unconscious ones in their inebriated stupor. With a flex of my muscles and a slight transformation, I took advantage of their withdrawal to break free of the thick twine holding me against the tree. As soon as I wrenched myself free, I ambled over to Eric's tree, and dug the ropes off with my claws.
"Jesus, Tod," he yelped, falling on his face when the ropes gave way. "That wind, man. Was that the storm? We need to get inside."
"That wind, um...I think that was me," I confessed.
Eric's face went pale. "Well, uh, still gonna rain, I guess," he stuttered. "What kind of werewolf power is that?"
"You tell me," I replied. "Goddamn. Parties suck."
He paused. "Well, you know. Not everyone thinks you're hip," he murmured. "Hell, I never would have thought that until I saw you...change. Anyway, I should have told you. That Linda chick: one girl you don't ever go near, unless you want the hammer dropped on you. How'd you know?"
"Lucky guess," I heaved. "Sure as hell wasn't Sadie."
I trained my eyes in the direction of Greg, knocked out cold on the ground several meters away. The bruises on my face were a pain to stretch as I furrowed my bloody brow and curled my cut lips into a mad grimace. Cradling my face, and massaging my gut, I trotted off past the two remaining costumed flunkies. Dan didn't appear to be among them. When I reached the spot where Greg got the daylights knocked out of him, the close-up of his grubby knuckles contorted my expression further than I thought still possible. I had something planned, and in case he woke up before I carried it through, I gave him a couple strong, swift kicks to the ribs, before I hefted him over my shoulders.
"Don't worry. Even if Greg didn't learn his lesson tonight, that won't be the case anymore."
"Hey, hold on..."
I felt a hand grab me as Eric rounded about me to look me in the eye, when he failed to pivot my shoulder. I knew what he was onto. I didn't have to ask him to figure it out. I shot a determined look back at him. He didn't need me to elaborate that, either.
"You can't," he whimpered as I pivoted toward in a direction leading deeper through the forest. "Tod, come on..."
"You don't need to see this."
I trotted off, Greg's arms dangling and swinging against my back occasionally as I carried him along. I snorted and spat a loogie tasting of salt and iron. Behind me, Greg continued to spout reason, seconds passing between each time he called out. "Tod, he's learned his lesson."
"No he hasn't. He never will," I countered, my voice echoless and as cold and neutral as the forest in the darkness.
"Think of his friends, man!"
"What friends? They'll be relieved. No one's gonna miss him."
He shouted one last time: "Tod, think about his family, you're killing them! Tod, you can't do this. Tod, please..."
Greg's breathing became ragged. "Oh damn...that you, Dan? My head hurts like a motherfucker..."
Rain pelted my face, blown by the wind to fall at an angle. I dropped him like a sack of potatoes, watched him claw the grass to stay on his feet.
"Good, I was wondering how long I'd have carry your ass."
"Fuckin' Tod?" Greg yelped in surprise. "Get the fuck off me."
I shoved him to the ground. "No."
"Oh fucking god!"
"What big eyes you have," I commented, glaring past my smashed nose at my screaming meal through one eye. "What big teeth you have..."
The Monster: dreamed up to explain unexplained terrors, sprung forth from the shadows for the sake of a thrill ride, or to spread through rumors to alienate individuals who just don't "belong". When science discovers, when the thrill wears off, we move on. But when the outcast says "enough", The Monster manifests in ways we can only imagine...
Hope you like the little bit I added at the end. A little nod, a little homage.
The Invitation
Part 3: The Beast
Rough knuckles str… moreuck my cheeks and jaw. One lay right into my eye, forcing it shut as I opened the other to the darkness of night. Crickets and cicadas chirped in the distance, none nearby to witness the situation in which I came to. In my one open, beast-tainted eye, light from the moon faintly lit up the lush green of the grass and crisp orange spectrum of tree leaves yet to fall from their deep russet branches. Though metaphorically present, blue was the only color missing from the scene. As I turned my head, the emblazoned "S" on Eric's navy blue costume drew my sight to him as I strained against rough, scratching bark to move toward him, realizing then that I was tied to the trunk of a thick tree.
"Waking up?"
I felt knuckles impale my belly, knocking air out of me. The air agitated in the wake of the blow brou… [view original content]
Thanks! I say that to everyone, lol. But seriously, thank you. I try my best when writing these stories, and you have no clue how much I want to rewrite it everytime I read them, but I guess since everyone enjoys each installment, I must be doing something right. I've started the DLC, and so far, it's fantastic. I'm in the part right after you find Old Man Winter. I'm glad you and everyone else who reads these stories like them.
Happy Birthday! For yesterday xD
That was another really enjoyable read - I think you have a knack for comedy. The characters are written… more well, and I'm excited to see where it goes.
Also, I seriously love Bioshock Infinite. Hope you enjoy the DLC!
Pleased to give compliments where they're due. I don't usually want to rewrite, however I do obsess over whether or not I'm using the best words, or whether or not things seem believable - so to speak - so I have an idea of what it might be like haha.
Ooh yeah, freezing a no good splicer is particularly satisfying. If you played the first Bioshock the second DLC part is also brilliant, though it's surely just as good if you haven't.
Thanks! I say that to everyone, lol. But seriously, thank you. I try my best when writing these stories, and you have no clue how much I wan… moret to rewrite it everytime I read them, but I guess since everyone enjoys each installment, I must be doing something right. I've started the DLC, and so far, it's fantastic. I'm in the part right after you find Old Man Winter. I'm glad you and everyone else who reads these stories like them.
I awoke early the next morning to call the kids. It was 6am here in Portugal and I calculated the time to be 5pm in New York. I dialed my parent's number; my father answered and I could hear one of the girls in the background. I began shaking Georgie awake; he too, couldn't wait to speak to the kids.
"Hey dad," I said excitedly. "How is everything in your neck of the woods?"
"Nothing but peaches and sunshine, Lyla," replied my father. He always said that silly response in regards to something wonderful happening that day. When my sisters and I were little, he'd always say this. Don't know why; it made me happy to hear it again.
"That's good. Mom making dinner?"
"Yup. She has a roast in the oven. Miss Katie has been howling the last thirty minutes because the kitchen smells like meat and potatoes. I tell you, this kid...how is Portugal?"
I yawned before I spoke. "It's beautiful out here. The weather is perfect, the hotel is wonderful and tell mom this for me-Georgie ate his FIRST Portuguese meal and enjoyed it! The food and the view, dad...it's all spectacular. We really needed this..."
"That is good, sweetie. Here...let me put the phone on speaker for you. I've got all the kids."
As I transferred over to speaker phone, Georgie and I could hear Katie howling and the other three cooing and gurgling. I began speaking into the phone.
"Hi my babies! Katie. Junior. Penny...Emily, sweetie. Mommy loves you four very much."
The room was filled with howls, while we heard the faint 'I wuv you mama' through the phone. Junior tried speaking but all he could do was spit and chew on the mouth piece. As Georgie spoke, however, Emily became very vocal.
"Hello, my babies," he said, as the babies became very active. "Daddy misses you and loves you all. Having fun with Nana and Papa?"
We heard Emily on the phone. "Dada, mommy-we go fish bye bye tomorrow."
"Oh yeah," answered Georgie. The biggest smile on his face. It was nice seeing him so content.
"Yeah. Fishy bye bye. Go swim fishy!"
We talked with the kids for a few more minutes, before we said our goodbyes and kissed each one of them through the phone. My dad and I talked a bit more; he and my mother were taking the quads fishing in the morning. He wanted the quads, especially Katie, to get in touch with their wolf side. We hung up; not before I could hear the kids playing and yelling once more.
Georgie and I laid back down and simply enjoyed the quiet surrounding us. I curled up beside him and placed my head on his chest.
"You still up for some mountain biking?"
"Where is that going to be at?"
"I looked around online and searched the map. I got the number to a place in Algarve. It has endless roads of dirt, extinct volcanoes you can ride on and a national park located not too far from the area. There is an all day tour today at 10am. You up, Georgie?"
I could see the wheels turning in his head. I swore his facial expressions changed every ten seconds. He agreed to the bike adventure, after we had breakfast and showered. We ate a tiny meal; we had orange juice, croissants and fruit. We both changed into tank tops, sneakers and shorts; it was hilarious watching Georgie change into tan shorts. Since I've known him, he's always had pants.
We left the hotel and took a taxi to Algarve. When we reached the desolate area, the view was brilliant. We were surrounded by mountains, extinct volcanoes and endless miles of trees. Our tour guide provided Georgie and I the biking gear. When we mounted the bikes and buckled in the helmets, we both took off down a trail, heading to large rocks and cliffs overlooking the waters.
I stopped to take pictures; it was breathtaking, as I snapped photos left and right. The babies would get copies and when they understood, I'd show them. Even Georgie took a minute to capture the scenery.
"It's beautiful, Georgie," I said, as I snapped a few more images.
"Yeah...it is, love."
We were soon heading down a dirt road and into lush miles of trees and brush. We found a shady area and picnicked. Georgie poured the wine, while I placed the sandwiches and chips on paper plates. While we ate, I sent some of the pictures on my phone to my mom; she wanted to see how the place look and relive her childhood. This would make her day.
After our lunch, we continued down the road. Groups of gulls flew above us; their shrill cries echoing through the sky. I waited for it; soon, their cries would not be the only thing making noise. Right on cue, Georgie began screaming and throwing tiny pebbles to the sky. They came crashing down, like heavy droplets of water.
"Fuck off," he shrieked, continuing to toss the rocks. "SHOO! Fuck, I hate birds! WHY the fuck, do you show up now, when earlier, you were no where to be found?!"
I waited for him to finish his little fit; half the time, I couldn't figure out who was worse-him or the birds? After he 'successfully' scared off the gulls, we continued down the road. We came across an old village abandoned hundreds of years ago. I began taking pictures, while Georgie walked around and observed the old village. We both walked until we came to an old church; the rusty bell hung above the gaping ceiling, as the wind carelessly blew threw. Georgie sat on an old, rotting pew. There were statues on of various saints surrounding us; in silence we sat, as we took in the marvelous surroundings we witnessed.
"This...this is nothing like I've ever seen," whispered Georgie. "You're right...Portugal has a lot of hidden treasures to see..."
He wrapped his arm around us, as we continued to sit and enjoy the quiet. After thirty more minutes, we headed back to the reservation. After we dropped off the equipment and caught a cab, Georgie and I headed back to the hotel. A nap was in the works; after being under the sun and working our leg muscles, we both were ready to rest.
That night, we would try and catch a show. For now, it was rest we would be catching.
Thank you! I have dropped a couple rare Alan Wake references on this site, but it's a shame not a lot of people here get it. And I admit it, I feel deviously proud of myself that not many members pick up on it. Barry Wheeler fan --> :P Specifically, my deal with Night Springs is that a reference to it is also a reference to Twilight Zone, which I also like.
I gave characters other than Eric and Tod names so that I could refer to them as more than "that student" or "that jock" or "that furry" or "that cowgirl"(which would have more implications which I specifically didn't want to imply). In regards to Sadie, I apologize, but poor Tod nop'd the hell outta there. He was polite about it, though, gotta give him some credit.
I'm not saying no, but I haven't given much thought to those characters beyond their roles in this chapter. What I wouldn't do to get the What-If-inator from Futurama for just one day...
EDIT: Oh, and in addition, I like to think that during the budding years of the furry community(at least two decades after the debut of the work they claim to be their roots), it wasn't very widely recognized, which probably didn't help the mainstream impression of it, as most people weren't aware of the movement/niche with which to associate people who were into that. Hope that explains and alludes to anything and everything having to do with other characters' view of Sadie. She was at the party, though, so who knows what the circumstances were leading to her obviously official invite. I don't think we'll ever know.
That was amazing, brilliantly-executed for a Halloween-themed story! Well done! Maybe Tod will meet Sadie and/or Linda in future chapters?
Anyways, nice Alan Wake reference at the end, I'm sure Barry Wheeler will be proud.
That picture! lol That made my day! Good job like always, pie! Can't wait for more and your next installment for the quads! 'Let's take a selfie' He should smile more often.
Summer Vacation
Part 3
"First Georgie....let's take a selfie!"
Next morning
I awoke early the next morning to call the k… moreids. It was 6am here in Portugal and I calculated the time to be 5pm in New York. I dialed my parent's number; my father answered and I could hear one of the girls in the background. I began shaking Georgie awake; he too, couldn't wait to speak to the kids.
"Hey dad," I said excitedly. "How is everything in your neck of the woods?"
"Nothing but peaches and sunshine, Lyla," replied my father. He always said that silly response in regards to something wonderful happening that day. When my sisters and I were little, he'd always say this. Don't know why; it made me happy to hear it again.
"That's good. Mom making dinner?"
"Yup. She has a roast in the oven. Miss Katie has been howling the last thirty minutes because the kitchen smells like meat and potatoes. I tell you, this kid...how is Portugal?"… [view original content]
I've played all the Bioshocks, they were amazing. It's hard to get over the fact that Elizabeth and Booker are in Rapture, as well as Elizabeth becoming such an adult. I miss when she was just a curious teenage (er...20 year old. Close enough) girl, who'd never been outside of her own tower before. It feels too sudden.
Pleased to give compliments where they're due. I don't usually want to rewrite, however I do obsess over whether or not I'm using the best w… moreords, or whether or not things seem believable - so to speak - so I have an idea of what it might be like haha.
Ooh yeah, freezing a no good splicer is particularly satisfying. If you played the first Bioshock the second DLC part is also brilliant, though it's surely just as good if you haven't.
For the holiday challenge
The secret Chapter....or secret ending?
The Dragon Family Holiday
Newly married couple Draco the powerful… more half human half dragon and his wife, Viera a half human half phoenix are only their way to with their 4 year old son Marcelo to Silver Beach in Beihai China. They are accompanied by Bigby and his wife Snow and Bigby's brother Wolven and his wife Jenn.
Snow ,Jenn and Marcelo walked to the beach while, Draco, Bigby and Wolven discuss business matters.
Bigby gets straight to the point as he sniffs the air that is filled with the scent a grilled steak and chicken causing his belly to growl.
Bigby: Ok Draco. I understand what you and your wife have been through. But what happened down town with your son and those group of people, that can't happened again, he nearly killed all those people. The business office is all over Snows ass about this situation. People are still talking about-
Draco: T… [view original content]
Yes! Respect for you man, I too, am a fan of Alan Wake. (and Barry Wheeler ) Since you referenced Night Springs, I can still picture the Old Gods of Aasgard singing their epic ballads of song as Alan mows down waves of Taken with a flare gun in hand and a heavy duty flashlight in the other.
I wonder how Remedy's new game will turn out for the Xbox 1, since they're not currently making an Alan Wake sequel.
Plus, you are welcome, you totally deserved the compliment. It is entirely up to you if you want to include more Mundy 'relationships' with Tod, as his friendship with Eric is fine so far. It's just that I think it would be more interesting if you could include at least one of the two girls, because you certainly piqued my interest when you brought them into the story.
Don't worry about the whole furry thing either, I didn't mind that. I considered her to be a chick that wore a bird costume, like how 47 did in that Mardi Gras level. (if you ever played Hitman: Blood Money, that is)
Thank you! I have dropped a couple rare Alan Wake references on this site, but it's a shame not a lot of people here get it. And I admit it,… more I feel deviously proud of myself that not many members pick up on it. Barry Wheeler fan --> :P Specifically, my deal with Night Springs is that a reference to it is also a reference to Twilight Zone, which I also like.
I gave characters other than Eric and Tod names so that I could refer to them as more than "that student" or "that jock" or "that furry" or "that cowgirl"(which would have more implications which I specifically didn't want to imply). In regards to Sadie, I apologize, but poor Tod nop'd the hell outta there. He was polite about it, though, gotta give him some credit.
I'm not saying no, but I haven't given much thought to those characters beyond their roles in this chapter. What I wouldn't do to get the What-If-inator from Futurama for just one day...
EDIT: Oh, and in addition, I… [view original content]
I hoped that it would provide some amusement, and I'm pleased the dialogue works - it was fun to write.
Perhaps I will try and get you into another of the diner talks, yet who knows, they might find a dragon lurking in Cambodia
Summer Vacation
Part 3
"First Georgie....let's take a selfie!"
Next morning
I awoke early the next morning to call the k… moreids. It was 6am here in Portugal and I calculated the time to be 5pm in New York. I dialed my parent's number; my father answered and I could hear one of the girls in the background. I began shaking Georgie awake; he too, couldn't wait to speak to the kids.
"Hey dad," I said excitedly. "How is everything in your neck of the woods?"
"Nothing but peaches and sunshine, Lyla," replied my father. He always said that silly response in regards to something wonderful happening that day. When my sisters and I were little, he'd always say this. Don't know why; it made me happy to hear it again.
"That's good. Mom making dinner?"
"Yup. She has a roast in the oven. Miss Katie has been howling the last thirty minutes because the kitchen smells like meat and potatoes. I tell you, this kid...how is Portugal?"… [view original content]
Comments
I feel slightly stressed after that birth scene haha. Overall though, impressive stuff, puddin'
Has he actually collected any money? :P nice job though!
Ooh, I want to know what the relic is. Sounding good, dude
If some of the aspects of your above tale are anything to go by, I'm totally getting that dark vibe. How many issues are there left till the last?
Happy Birthday! For yesterday xD
That was another really enjoyable read - I think you have a knack for comedy. The characters are written well, and I'm excited to see where it goes.
Also, I seriously love Bioshock Infinite. Hope you enjoy the DLC!
Top notch, sir. Another quality piece!
I think you're f-key is going to be broken by the end of this :P
Is Marcello a reference to Marco, perhaps?
I kind of feel sorry for that cat, and yet particularly disconcerted at the same time haha.
Anyway, glad to see you back
It's a summer vacation tale! The first part of one, at least. I'd have put the other bit on however it might have been a lot all in one go. Anyway, seeing as I've left Mr Weasel in alley for quite some time now, and he has so far not emerged from it, this story takes place at an unspecified time; that's probably not too important, though.
Finally, the bold letters are to denote a new paragraph. I wanted to try and break it up a little, though I'm not sure if it works, so let me know.
As a glamoured Mr Weasel sits down in a comfortable booth at the I Am The Eggman Diner, the other occupants of the booth cannot fail to notice the garishly bright Hawaiian shirt that he wears. So arresting is this item of clothing, in fact, that passers-by of the diner can spot it through the window from the other side of the street; and it is very much likely that any orbiting satellite - provided it is at the correct angle - would detect the garment too.
With glorious hair and a black and white short-sleeved top sporting a particular flower emblem, Rose Red - who up to then had been sitting relaxed, drinking a glass of refreshing orange juice and with eyes un-affronted - stares at Weasel and simply says,
"No."
"No?" he inquires.
"No. I'm not going anywhere with you dressed in that ridiculous shirt."
"In fairness," chimes in Colin, who remains unglamoured while he sits there, and yet is - I assure you - discreetly placed, "it's not so much the shirt as the person wearing it. Sorry, Weasel - it just doesn't suit you. And it looks about three sizes too large."
A little disappointed by the reception of the shirt, Mr Weasel nevertheless admits that, "it's not actually my shirt. I borrowed it from Woody." At this there is a loud snorting, a snigger, and a slight spluttering of coffee, as Bigby Wolf contemplates the image of the Woodsman in such a shirt.
"Say, Sheriff," Weasel asks as Bigby composes himself, "will you be joining us on this vacation?"
"Unfortunately not. Someone's got to look after Fabletown and Snow will most likely need the help of a Sheriff."
"Spending the summer with Miss White, are we?" Colin asks suggestively, and with the pig equivalent of a raised eyebrow.
Bigby does not look particularly amused, though there is perhaps a little blushing behind his unshaven cheeks. "No. Actually, yes, but not like that. We can't all afford to go gallivanting, you know."
Colin leans back, looking pleased with himself, and gives a wink to Rose, who also enjoyed the insinuation about the Sheriff and her sister.
"How come you're here then? If you don't mind me asking," comes another question from Mr Weasel.
"I don't mind," replies Bigby. "I'm here because I've brought your number four." He gives a nod towards an open door by the side of the counter, from which a flying monkey comes flying out of with a large spherical object; and by the most unlikeliest of coincidences remains unseen by any Mundies in the vicinity.
"Hi there, Mr Weasel!" Bufkin cheerily greets.
"Hello, Bufkin. What's that you've got there?"
"This?" Comes his reply, despite there being nothing else about his person which would have caused such a question in the first place. "It's a globe." He plonks it down on the middle of the table with unabashed enthusiasm, making glasses and cups shake, spoons tinkle, and a spider underneath the table to fear for it's life. "So we can chose where to go," he happily explains, oblivious to the slight chaos he just produced.
"Shouldn't we wait for our number five?" Rose wonders aloud.
"Are we all numbers now?" Colin remarks to no one in particular.
"Who is your number five?" Bigby asks.
"No, we might as well start looking. He'll be here soon," Mr Weasel answers.
Start looking they do. Rose Red is quite set on the idea of Cuba, in particular of Havana, and relates a particularly wild second-hand anecdote involving a bicycle, many mojitos, and and an irked barracuda. Colin, meanwhile, thinks that Istanbul should be their destination, for the pig wishes to visit the Grand Bazaar. He has a penchant for fine rugs and carpets. Bufkin, who has been spinning the globe throughout the conversation and who continues to do so, declares that he wishes to visit the Okavango Delta, of all places, for he would like to ride a hippopotamus. Rose then points out that they could probably arrange that at a nearby Mundy zoo, much to Bigby's alarm. Before Mr Weasel has a chance to put forward his suggestion, Bufkin gives too energetic a swipe at the globe, and it falls onto the floor, splitting in two along the hemisphere. The monkey dives to the floor in a spot of panic, hoping to attach the north back to the south.
While Bufkin is thus engaged, a young man with blonde hair and a ponytail enters the diner. His blue denim waistcoat matches the colour of his eyes, and a grin comes out on his face when he sees the group in the booth. As he walks up to the booth and makes to sit down, he pauses and rears his head back.
"Whoa, Weasel. You got a permit for that shirt? 'cause its so loud it's causing a public disturbance!" The grin only gets wider.
Rose Red slaps her hand to her forehead in embarrassment, despite - or because of - being ever-so-slightly amused.
"Seriously?" says Bigby. "You picked Jack as your number five?"
"I best get some ear muffs if you don't turn it down," Jack carries on. "Hey, are you going to wear that when we go? If you are, I --"
"THANK YOU, Jack," interrupts Weasel. "We've already discussed the shirt. Why don't you just sit down," he says, as he moves up a little closer to the Sheriff.
"Why would you take him though?" Bigby comments again, bemused.
"How come you're here, Sheriff?" Jack asks when seated, a little peturbed by the Sheriff's question.
"He's coming with us," Rose answers Bigby, "because he's paying for half of the trip. Bigby is here because --"
"Hello, Mr Jack!" Cries Bufkin, making everyone jump - including Bigby. "I've fixed the globe!" He informs them, smiling once more and holding the object out in front of him.
"Why don't you take that back, Bufkin?" says Colin. "I don't think we're going to need it anymore."
"Uhm, okay. If you're sure." The monkey flies off to the door with it, and the pig is quite pleased not to have the object slammed down in front of him again; an emotion shared by the aforementioned spider.
"So we were all just saying where we'd like to go," Weasel tells Jack, "and I was about to say --"
"Paris," Jack cuts in, with seemingly assured confidence that Mr Weasel was about to say that very place.
"Erm, no. I'd like to go at some point, however I was going to suggest --"
"We should go to Paris," says Jack once more.
"You're really not getting the whole 'taking turns' idea of this conversation, are you?" Mr Weasel then glares at Jack. Jack simply ignores it.
"I've got this pamphlet -" starts Jack.
"Oh, goodie," comments Colin under his breath.
"- for Paris."
"Paris?" Rose Red is surprised at what now seems a serious proposal.
"Yes, my pretty little thing." Jack's daring response and broad smile do not charmeth the lady.
"Why Paris?" questions Bigby, equally taken aback by the suggestion.
"Promise not to laugh?"
"Heck no," responds Colin, though Jack carries on anyway, seemingly impervious to the responses of others.
"I'd like to visit the Musée du Parfum. You know, the Perfume Museum."
Here, due to an unusual synchronized ending in conversation around the rest of the diner, complete silence falls to correspond with Jack's statement. The others around the booth are mystified as to why Jack would want to go, so the silence carries on for moments; moments that Jack fills by nervously looking from one face to another.
"Huh" - Bigby is the first to speak - "I was not expecting that, Jacky-boy." As talk resumes around the rest of the establishment, Bufkin returns, and takes a seat in between Rose and Colin.
"What did I miss?" asks the flying monkey.
"Jack's gone soft on us," Colin says.
"I haven't, I just like the smell of perfume. There's an art to making it and I've always wondered just how many variations there are. Plus, we all might get a free sample." Once more there is a smile upon Jack's face.
"I hate to be the buzzkill here, guys," for being a buzzkill Bigby was about to be, "however I have to wonder how you're going to go to any of these places without glamour? You three -" meaning Mr Weasel, Bufkin, and Colin, "- would have to fork out a lot up front to keep you glamoured on your trip, and what if you ran out or something? Don't make me have to go on a rescue mission to pick you all up."
"Where are we going to go then?" Bufkin ponders, disheartened.
"I'm sure you'd fit in in Paris. Somehow," comes a certain response.
"I think I can be of assistance here." Declares Mr Weasel. "How about here?" and he produces a small leaflet.
"Seems exotic enough," concludes Rose Red.
"We wouldn't have to worry about glamour in that landscape," Colin and Bufkin agree.
"Does my opinion really matter here?" Bigby responds as the comes to his turn.
"I suppose they might have some rare flowers," concedes Jack. Bigby and Colin shoot him another puzzled look.
"Excellent!" is Mr Weasel's opinion. "It's settled. Cambodia, here we come."
This post is now completely redundant, so let's not wonder why it's here.
I gotcha, Noir. Well, at least you're a better storyteller than me when it comes to your use of vocabulary and mystery added to your plot. Take it as a compliment, you deserve it.
And Tezoth is doin' alright, I haven't really been working on the story since I have been working on June's F.S.A. instead, y'know? My Fable contributors come first.
Another part? I thought you ended his story? No matter though, I'm excited and I definitely need to reread the previous installments of Spark's action-packed adventure.
Mr. Weasel in a Hawaiian shirt, huh? And a piece of clothing being from Woody too, out of all the people to boot! Ah man, that's amusing.
Seriously though, good job with the dialogue in this one. It felt like I was really there! Which I could have been in the matter. (insert evil laugh here)
Summer Vacation
Part 2
When Georgie and I walked back to the hotel, my stomach began to gurgle like a bear in a cave. I placed the bag down and watched as Georgie stripped down and plop on the bed. He reached for the remote and clicked through every channel, not understanding a word they were speaking.
"For fuck's sake," he mumbled, as his finger continued to slam the 'next' button. "C'mon! There has to be something here I can understand!"
"y para este pequeño perro días Que se pudo nadar más rápido que cualquier otra cosa en el mundo," said the news lady.
"FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUCK!"
I watched as the remote went flying and slammed into the wall.
"Eh, mushy mushy to you to!"
"GEORGIE!"
"What?! I don't get what they are saying...."
"Stop your complaining and get dressed. I'm hungry. There was this cute little restaurant near the hotel."
I could see him struggle to get up to my surprise, Georgie was in the bathroom, pressed against the sink and shaving. Although he was talking to himself and the 'F' bomb was dropped an awful let, I had to give him credit. I took a shower, fixed my hair and makeup and wore a simple yellow dress with black wedges. Georgie wore a simple plain black dress shirt with dark jeans and converse. He looked so handsome.
Arm in arm, we walked out into the streets of Portugal. Oh, how I wished the kids were here with us. But my time with Georgie was needed, as this whole vacation idea. We walked a bit further until we reached the 'Vermelho' took a seat outside and watched as the sun began to set over the sea of Portugal.
"Oh, Georgie. Isn't this so romantic?"
I could tell he was a bit distracted by the menu; EVERYTHING was written in Portuguese and like a child, he was trying to determine by the pictures. He understood the wine section but nothing more. When our young waiter returned, I had my meal picked and ready to go. I'd throw Georgie a life preserver when my turn was up.
"Yes," I replied to the waiter, pen in hand. "Terei a pige recheado e um copo de vinho tinto, por favor.."
I watched as the waiter scribbled furiously every word I said. Georgie, however, was looking directly at me like a lost child; his eyes were wide, appeared lost and his mouth was gaped slightly open. Because I loved him and couldn't bare to see him so confused, I ordered him a dish I knew he would enjoy.
"Ele vai ter o seu frango grelhado e um copo de cerveja, por favor."
The waiter thanked me and Georgie and soon, he was back to the kitchen to place our order. Georgie, however, never budged. I was worried perhaps he was broken or lost in a spinning vortex.
"I...I....," he began to stutter. "I had...had no idea you spoke Portuguese. Wha-I mean...what did you order me?"
"I know some," I replied, thankful to see him still alive. "I know enough to get us by on this trip. I got you a simple dish-grilled chicken season with piri, garlic and olive oil. Oh, and a glass of beer as well."
Georgie leaned across the table and kissed my lips. He was smiling; his eyes glistened against the blue sea and sun setting beside us.
"You know me so well, love...."
We sat and watched as various groups of people walked by. The music surrounding us grew louder, as the lights dimmed down and the employees began lighting the candles on our table and around us. The night was gently blowing, as we held hands and watched the world around us. While we waited, I managed to get a call from Snow.
"How is the trip," she asked.
"It's amazing, Snow! Thank you again for the extra help. We BOTH needed this..."
"Well, just do me one thing-take a lot of pictures, have fun and TRY to keep Georgie sane. I'm sure he's having a difficult time adjusting to the uh, culture around him."
I chuckled, as I stared at Georgie. He was throwing bits of bread in the direction of a group of gulls. He was determined to move them away from our table.
"Fuckin' birds," he yelled, throwing a rather large piece into the crowd. "I hate them so much!"
As I kicked his leg, our waiter returned with our meals. I thanked Snow once more and hung up the phone. I figured I'd call the kids later; we were 8 hours ahead and I was certain they were asleep. He placed our meals down; the smell was intoxicating.
"Bom apetite. Espero que gostem de tudo."
I thanked him, as a confused Georgie simply waved and began tearing into the chicken. The meal was exquisite; the flavors danced on my pallet, the different spices and oils swirling around my throat. This brought me back to my childhood years. My great grandfather died when I was 3 but the memories were very much there. I could still remember the first time I enjoyed his traditional Portuguese cooking. Georgie, too, seemed to be enjoying the meal. He was very quiet.
After we finished dinner and ordered a few more drinks, Georgie paid for the meal and soon, we were headed to the hotel. We ordered room service; Georgie and I got a giant slice of cake and another bottle of wine. We were enjoying this; no kids, no club...no Fabletown.
Tomorrow, we would try and attempt horse riding and mountain biking. My thought of Georgie trying to ride a horse was entertaining in my mind. For now, this cake was too heavenly, as Georgie and I sank deeper into the bed.
The white flag is already up. XD
Yep.
It is, in the memory of Marco.
Don't think Emmy would know what to do with Georgie! lol And thanks, man.
Haha I wish but college is not that easy to daydream anymore! XD
Penelope and Georgie Junior Porgie
Mommy's little dancer
Age: 19
Powers: Since her birth, Penny was capable of moving objects derived from love and happiness. Over the years, however, she has learned to conceal her powers, due to the Council and the ongoing war. From time to time, however, she likes to walk out into the forest and test her power's strength.
Family: Her father is Georgie Porgie, the notorious pimp and club owner of the Pudding & Pie, Lyla Smith, daughter of a werewolf and Georgie's life. Sisters Emily and Katie; brothers Junior, Ethan and Peter. Like Katie, she does not tolerate Peter and refuses to acknowledge him as her 'brother.' This had caused many problems between the siblings and even divided them, when it comes to respect.
Job: Like Lyla was, Penny has started her life on the pole. She does NOT work for her father's club; that was too weird, even though Emily now held the deed to the club. She is employed for Oliver, a long time friend of her father at the 'Silver Slipper topless dancers.' It's not too bad-Oliver respects Penny and allows her to choose her clients, schedule and keeps the majority of money she earns. She occasionally helps Oliver with the books and keeps tabs on the other dancers. In a way, she is living the very life her mother did years ago.
Weakness: Her only weakness is an ancient plant called 'Gunnera Tinctoria' a very rare plant but has the ability to blind her and her powers to disappear for 24 hours. Since her first encounter, Lola has created a liquid potion capable of shielding the girl from this flower. No one knows who found the plant but Lyla is sure 'Council' is written all over this.
Penny is like Lyla; when she turned 18, she ran off into the streets of Fabletown and joined Oliver's strip club. Georgie was furious and this caused tension between the clubs. Although she and her father now have an understanding, he would prefer his daughter to not partake in the sins these clubs create. He, however, would be a hypocrite. Penny is Oliver's girl, so he treats her with more respect and dignity. Penny refuses to discuss her father and the infamous song that has haunted him for years. Growing up, she became ashamed of Georgie, thus creating hostility towards the two. She's not saying her love is not there for her father...she's so stunned with all the skeletons he had in the closet.
Dear Diary-My dad called me today. He sounds sad; devastated and confused. I'm so fucking pissed off at him. Not sure why. I mean, I love him...he's done so much. I just, hate him right now...its quiet right now. The club is closed; Oliver is getting high in the lounge again. I really wish he would stop that shit. He loves me, I KNOW he does. He's stupid on the stuff and his choices are terrible. The bruise is going down, now. Dad would fucking kill him if he saw this...hypocrite, if you ask me, though...better get going. I'm on in 2 hours and I hear glass breaking again.
"Just because I look like him, even share his name, does not make me him."
Age: 19
Job: Cashier at a sport's bar and part time bartender-in-training at the Trip Trap.
Kids: 2; one boy one girl
Powers: Like his sister, Junior possesses the ability to move things with his hands and mind. His powers, however, come from this genetic inheritances from his father; hate, sadness and anger fuel the power within and when he was first born, this caused trouble for the family and community. When he was a few months old, however, Vivian 'marked' him with the Willow Tree symbol, which allowed the boy to control his power with love, hope and faith.
Markings: Vivian marked his back with the tree symbol. Since then, the two have 'connected' and were destined to be together always. He has been the one thing to help 'calm' him down, should he lose his way.
Junior loves his father and is very loyal to him. His powers were once connected to Georgie's feelings and everything that was locked away for years. He is nothing like him, despite the two sharing similar names and striking characteristics. He's very sensitive, kind and has the ability to look past anyone's flaws. His once brown eyes turned an icy blue when Vivian marked him all those years ago. Junior and Vivian became a couple and soon, the two fell madly in love. He became a young father, however and caused an uproar in the community. Now, he and Vivian share a two bedroom apartment downtown. He works two jobs to help provide for his rapidly growing family. He loves it, though; it maybe hard at times but he wouldn't change it for the world.
Dear Diary-It's been a long night. It was busy at the bar; I made $300 alone on tips. This should cover the electric bill and help with food. We are behind this month but I'm looking ahead and staying positive. Vivian loves staying home with the kids...I'd hate to have her work. That's my job...Sheila is sick. Medical bills. George has been showing his powers lately. I'm scared...I remember all too well what that was like. But, I'm staying positive.
Wish me luck...today I apply for a loan to get a bigger car.
Up next, Ethan and Peter.
Junior and Vivian...oh wow. I'm lookin forward NOW to reading about the quads! Can't wait for ethan and peter!
I'd argue otherwise, though I shall graciously accept your compliment anyway
Can't believe it's been a month since the inaugural F.S.A. I admire your dedication to us contributors, and I'm sure I speak for many when I thank you for it! It's all inspirational, dude. I will therefore patiently await Tezoth's return at some point in future.
I hoped that it would provide some amusement, and I'm pleased the dialogue works - it was fun to write.
Perhaps I will try and get you into another of the diner talks, yet who knows, they might find a dragon lurking in Cambodia
Haha! That dog bit with the news made me laugh, presuming it's translated correctly :P
Interesting choice with changing the perspective and writing in first-person. Makes it feel more intimate, so to speak.
Thanks. LOL Glad you liked it! XD I wanted to write it in Lyla's words and have her tell the story.
Think I might do it this way in the future.
I can't swim
Dragon Family Holiday Part 2
The group sat down and began chowing down on the delicious steak and beef cooked over the grill by Draco's flames. The smell continued to fill the air. Normally it would of attracted other animals, but since there are 3 wolfs present, they dare not approach the camp.
Draco and his son Marcello walks over to the tip of the beach. The waves brushed across the sand washing up shells and rock. The neon colored fish swam in shores nearby and from a short distance glowing seahorses can be seen under a small coral reef.
He hears something in the water. It slowly approaches the shore, and when it does it reveals itself as a watery ghostly figure. I grabs Draco by his legs and begins to drag him into the salty water.
Draco: No NOO! I can't swim! I can't swim! Marcello get your motherrr!
Marcello runs to his mother and tells her what happened. She tells Marcello to stay with the others while she rescues Draco from the Shui gui's grasp. Viera makes it to where Draco was taken. She see's Draco body laying on the beach. She rushes over to him and turns him over, and when he opens his eyes he attacks Viera.
Viera: Draco what are you doing?!
Shui Gui: Draco's not here anymore darling. I took his body and his soul belongs to the ocean now. And don't even think about exorcising me, if you do you never find your husbands soul.
Viera: You died here didn't you? That why you became a Shui gui... If we can lay you to rest-
Shui gui: Sorry darling, I want to live again. I might find another body on the way but for this handsome fella will just have to do- Wait what is that you are holding..? GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!
Viera is holding a something with Chinese scriptures. She begins to read them out loud to the Shui gui.
Yu Mo Gui Gwai Fai Di Zao
The water ghost begins to shake before bursting out of Draco body and evaporating into the sky letting out a peaceful scream.. After a while Draco regains conscious and wakes up his wife arms.
Draco: What...what the hell happen?
Viera You got possessed by a Shui gui, a water ghost. I took care of it.
Draco: Sigh, we came here for relaxation and to get away from problems like this. Yet we still get caught up..
Viera: No matter how hard we try Draco, what you, me and Marcello are, we will always have problems to deal with. Supernatural or Not, either way we can deal them. We have to be there for our son.
Draco: You are right, we have to be there for Marcello. He's growing up so fast... and getting stronger each day...
Draco and Viera returned to the camp and soon as they arrived the fireworks began to fire up into the night sky. Marcello ran towards them and hugged the two. They looked up into the sky and smiled.
The end
The Werewolf Mundy Chronicle(still working title). Early Halloween special in 3 parts:
The Invitation
Part 1: The Diplomat
Albany, NY October 1968
The frost-coated grass crunched under the weight of Eric's cleats, announcing his retirement, and that of a few other students, to the locker room. Outside, sweat beaded down their foreheads, gently cooling in the still, dry air, under the stale gray sky. Inside, The perspiration grew dense in the small area where they changed, creating a pungent fragrance.
"This party is gonna be a gas," said one boy. "Eric, did you get all the invites handed out?"
"Yeah Blake, all except Tod's," he answered.
"Seriously man? This again?" said Blake. "We've been over this."
"Yeah, seriously, he's really an awesome cat when you get to know him, and I don't think he's ever been to a party before."
"That doesn't surprise me," said another. "If not for you, I don't think he'd have any friends at all."
"Dan, come on, nobody's a loner because they want to be," Eric pleaded. "Give him a chance, maybe he'll like hanging with us."
"'With us'?" another kid blurted. "You feel free to bend over backwards for him whenever you preach your little man crush, Eric, but keep one thing in mind: we up here," he said, raising his hand up to mark the air, then dropping it down low, saying, "he down here."
"You sure that's your bag, Greg? You sure it's not about how thick a beard he can grow in a day?" Eric retorted. "Look, I'm inviting him. He needs this, he just doesn't know it yet."
Blake shrugged. "Alright," he said as he put his pads in his locker and shut it.
Greg winced. "What? No."
"You want to invite the freak, go ahead. Feel free to try and ignore him if he shows up, Greg. But Eric: he has until enough people can't be around him. And the pool is off-limits, so is the apple-bobbing."
"Thanks, Blake," Eric smiled. "I'll make sure he knows the rules."
When Eric strolled out, Blake added one last word with the rest of the invited students. "You want him out, you're free to spread your dislike to anyone who will listen. But anyone trying to fuck with anyone gets thrown out."
When that final word was said and the speaker had left, Greg and Dan exchanged determined looks as they waited for the rest to clear out. Finally, they hefted their backpacks over their shoulders, half-testing the weight of the contents within.
"We just get a few people together and rotate on the door, and make sure they know that at least one name on that list is a mistake." Dan asked. "Shouldn't be a problem."
Greg shook his head. "Whatever."
Distracted by the tingling sensation of the friction of dry, rough skin, I rubbed my palms together to cope with the monotonous wait. When it became clear no one was going to sit down next to me, I curled up on the bench inside the bus booth as I awaited its arrival. I didn't mind, though the bus was still nowhere in sight fifteen minutes later, when I heard the clomping of hurried feet approaching. They echoed when they entered the booth, heralding the greeting of a fellow bus rider.
"Heya Tod," Eric panted.
"Hey," I replied. "What's got you worked up?"
"Oh," he breathed, catching his breath before he answered. "You know, Halloween is coming up, right?"
"Yeah...why?" I asked guardedly.
"Okay, so there's gonna be a party at Blake's!" he blurted. "Not a school party, I mean a house party. You know Blake, right? They've been planning this for a while, since they learned the parents will be gone for the night."
"Oh no. You want me to come."
"Uh, yeah! It would be just the coolest to have you there! I mean you..."
"Eric, this is a bad idea and you know it."
A thundering of an engine and exhaust alerted us to the suppression of a topic forbidden in public. Eric and I stepped on, paid our tickets and took seats in the back, luckily unoccupied early on in the bus's route around town. Taking a seat across from me, Eric pleaded across the aisle, asking me, "Have you ever been to a party before, Tod? Have you ever had any friends outside of work?" to both of which I answered "no".
"That's what I'm talking about," Eric groaned. "You're missing out on so much, and why? I mean, you let me, uh...so, why can't you just say 'fuck it' and do what you want?"
"Because," I answered, "whether I like it or not, I'm different. I can't really be friends with people without just being 'myself' around them."
"You are 'yourself' to me," Eric pointed out.
"Okay, true. But to everyone? To open up? You know what'll happen if I do that," I explained, barely above a hushed tone. "People disappear and we leave town."
"So then don't be you around them!" he nearly yelled. "Just be 'you' around me. Isn't that enough?"
"No!" I hissed. "Besides, the moon's gonna be full that weekend! You think I don't check the calendar for this crap? Even then, between the 3rd quarter and full, things get kinda...furry!"
That caused Eric to hesitate. "Well, it's a costume party," he finally countered. "If we can create a costume that covers you up, you don't have to 'be yourself', and people won't see you wiggin' out."
I hesitated. "What do you have in mind?"
"Listen, my dad's a real paper-machet artist," Eric pitched as the bus slowed to a halt. "He does my costumes all the time. Come to my house in a couple days when he's home, and we'll talk him into it. He'll probably love the irony so much, that he'll want to get started right away!"
I shot him a glare. Said glare became a stare, then a thoughtful smile. And then a wicked grin. "Hmm. Heh, that's not bad," I chuckled. "That's...I like that, actually."
"Yeah man. You just have to take it off at the door, put it back on, and when you walk in and around people, they won't know it's you! Well, if we do a good job. If not, at the very least they won't care, and you won't feel awkward."
"Alright, I'm sold," I grinned. I was sold on the idea of masquerading, pretending to look like something else and the irony behind the look we were going with. "We'll see how this works out. Wait, you didn't tell your dad about me, did you!?"
"What? No! Y'know, cuz your hair grows fast..."
"Well good. I mean, you know," I hastened. "Cuz I meant what I said, Eric. And I still do."
Whoops, couple typos. A couple in the other parts, fixed those already.
The Invitation
Part 2: The Butterfly
Faint sound of psychedelic rock reverbrated from within the house to the porch I found myself standing on, lit by a lone, brass lamplight over the open door. A broad-shouldered boy stood in my path, casting an stern look my way under curly hair.
"Mask off first, buddy. You can put it on back inside."
He already seemed like he knew who I was underneath the wolf's head. I grasped the fur-coated sides of the neck, which covered me from the base of mine to my lower jaw before extending into a solid snout under my eyes, and lifted it up over my head. The light perspiration on my skin cooled in the open air, absent the stuffy hollow of the mask.
"Tod, Tod," he muttered, pretending to check the little notepad in his hand. "Sorry, I don't see you on here."
"Seriously, Dan?"
"Come to think of it, I don't see you on here either, Eric," he continued.
"Yeah, whatever Dan. I'm just gonna go talk to-"
"Talk to Blake? Is that who you were gonna say?" Dan moved to block the door. "You don't wanna start anything, do you?"
"Goddammit, Dan."
"Sorry pal, you guys aren't invited." Dan shut the door firmly in our faces, followed by an audible "click".
"Of course," Eric fumed.
"Well, guess that's that," I shrugged. "It was a nice costume, though."
Eric shot me a dumbfounded look. "We've come this far and you're just giving up? I invited you and I'm not going in without you. We'll just go around back, by the pool, and I'll go have a chat with Blake."
I shook my head and put my wolf head back on. "Alright."
Eric led me around the side of bricklaid house on a paved sidewalk. When the terrace on the second floor in the back came into view, noticing guests hanging out there, I pulled Eric back with the trees.
"What?" he hissed.
"Don't you see the guests?"
"Don't worry about them," he replied, "I know who to watch out for."
As we continued down the sidewalk around back towards a set of stairs, my eyes were drawn to the myriad of masks being worn to the party: superheroes, vampires, angels and devils, frankensteins, werewolves, and various novelty entities. We decided that I would ascend the stairs first before Eric, with the logic that seeing us separate from each other would dissuade the thought putting two and two together concerning who I was underneath the wolf suit. Then I would try to find Blake. I didn't tell him I wasn't going to tolerate this. As I stepped up each step of the stairs, another friendly "doorman" approached from the poolside as soon as my head rose above the balcony.
One wrong word, and I would lay him out with a sucker punch and chuck him down the stairs. Blake still needed to learn that just threatening troublemakers with ending the fun times early and expecting it to work, like wearing a lucky rabbit's foot, isn't enough to stop trouble from happening 100% of the time. The jock met me at the top, blocking my way, with an air of confidence he undoubtedly earned the right to have, but only I knew it secretly to be unfounded.
"Take a piss in the woods, did you?" he huffed. "Take off the mask."
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the party-goers, coated in feathers and wearing a bird mask made much lighter than my wolf head, walking in my direction.
"I'm here with them," I said, pointing with my finger for lack of a visible chin to nod with.
"Move over, guard dog, this puppy's with me," the guest ordered, whoever she was.
"Oh," he groaned as he stepped aside, with hints of repulsion, pity, and contempt all at once. "By all means, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your...mingling."
The mysterious bird-suited lady took me by the hand and led me away from the stairs, toward some vacant table by railing of the terrace, passing two other guests similarly dressed as we were. Their 'faces' followed our movement until we fully passed them, and I distinctly heard a muffled giggling as we did. I wasn't fond of the view of the backyard from under the lights of the pool. I could see perfectly, but the contrast had the barest hint of a black-out effect on my view from the terrace.
"Anyone coming to a Halloween party wearing that deserves to be let in," my admirer explained. "Did you make it yourself?"
"Just the fur."
"Do you mind if I...feel it?" Her eyes, the only part of her showing through her costume besides her hair, betrayed the impulse.
"Sure, whatever."
I held out an arm, and the bird lady slipped a hand out of one of her "wings", and let her fingers glide along the wolf hair experimentally. Her eyes widened, and she continued to massage the hair as though it still grew from the animal it belonged to. As she did, her focus shifted from the arm to some space over my shoulder.
"I'll just go find Blake while you, uh, mingle," Eric shifted, excusing himself. "Just so you know, you shouldn't feel forced into anything."
"I know how to be social, Eric," I whispered back.
"It feels so real," she marveled while Eric slinked off. "Did it come from...?"
"No animals were harmed in the creation of this costume," I postured languidly. "Hey, I'm gonna go explore for a little while. Back in a bit, 'k?"
"Whatever you say, wolfman. Just ask for 'Sadie' when you want to find me, everybody knows my name."
"Sure."
I vamoosed out of there at a brisk pace. Windows lined the brick wall from the stairs to the archway exits. Through them, I could see a crowd gathered in a dimly lit room, all shaking their hips and popping wrists and knees in an odd form of recreational exercise. I moved under one of the archways and stalked the hall I entered to the door closest to the source of the music. Now almost involved in the scene, anxiety clawed at my chest, and instinctively I backed up against the wall. Time slowed to a crawl as I stared uncomfortably at the moving bodies, bopping and shaking to familiar music. The music, echoing through my ears, met with my mood, and other sensations--like the smell of sweat--in my mind, and became warped as it got lost in the woods with the rest of my thoughts. I couldn't, wouldn't, shake the the thought that I might be discovered and booted from the party. It was a feeling that accompanied me whenever I wandered into social settings. Banned from the proverbial treehouse before I even set foot in the yard when I was a little boy. Now I was around new peers, maturing minds, but the general disposition only darkened.
"Hey there."
Suddenly jerked from my deep slow brood, noticing the change in the music to something of an equally deliberate tempo, I whipped my head in the direction of the bubbly voice addressing me. It belonged to a schoolgirl, half a foot taller than me, wearing a homemade cowboy costume, clearly meant to imitate Clint Eastwood's role in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.
"How long have you been eyeing the cattle, wolf?" she asked playfully. "Go after any strays in this corral, and I may have to deal with you myself."
"Funny," came my muffled reply, half going along with her game. "As if I'm interested in any of 'your cattle', Calamity Jane."
"I'm not too sure about that." She leaned back against the wall next to me. "You don't look delicate enough to be a wallflower."
"You should probably go find a pretty one pluck it, then," I huffed.
"The second you walked in here, I could tell you were curious about something," the amazonian spoke plainly. "You want to give dancing a try, but you're intimidated by the scene."
"This is a social event," I replied, "and we're talking. I don't have to do anything."
She smirked. "Which do you think is more fun? Talking, or doing? You seem like you're out of your element, so I'm being persistent. You should be grateful."
I sighed. "Okay. A few. If you don't mind offering lessons."
"Not at all. Name's Linda."
"I'm Al."
She offered her arm. "Shall we then, Al?"
So I took her arm, and we both moved away from the wall. We started a fair distance from the crowd of hugging couples, and she began offering instruction, "move your feet this way," "try not to step too close," and calling out numbers to a rhythm. Just as I was beginning to get the hang of it, the current mix tape was switched out for the previous one. Immediately she began to teach me how to dance to funk. I bumped into her and other guests enough to the point where she began showing me how to twist, and do other simple hand and leg moves.
"Hey, I'm feeling worn-out," she called out. "You wanna grab us drinks? I'll meet you out by the pool."
"Where are they?"
"Oh, good god."
After Linda told me where to go, I departed for the drinks, grabbing two different brands. I caught more than one guest watching me, and I could still feel the stares shooting daggers at my back as I left. I rejoined Linda far towards the far end of the terrace away from the stairs. She tipped her hat as I approached.
"Sorry about earlier," I apologized. "I can't dance for shit."
"Oh, it ain't nothin'," she said, putting a country twang in her voice. "Ain't no trouble, I got no bone with teaching a city slick like yourself how to tango."
"'City slick'? I think you got the whole thing backwards when you put on the accent," I quipped.
"Guess I did, but that ain't stoppin' me, greenhorn," she giggled.
I heard footsteps, and turned to look behind me. It was Eric, making a beeline for us. "Hey buddy," he greeted, "been looking all over for you."
"Oh hello," Linda chimed, "you with him?"
"We're friends, if that's what you're asking," I answered. "How'd it go with Blake?"
"He met with the doorman to find out who's being assholes," Eric answered. "Got that whole mess sorted out. How have you been getting along?"
"Just great, thanks."
"Great! I told you it would be fun," he beamed. "Uh, so someone just...dukied in the pool, so Blake declared the pool deck off-limits. If you wanna stay out back, it's the lawn or nothing."
Linda grabbed my hand. "Why don't we head out to the pasture?"
"Um, hey, maybe we should just go back inside," Eric pined nervously. "It's kinda cold out here..."
"Yeah, well it's hot in there," she snapped. "Al, you coming?"
I glanced at Eric. He was shaking his head. "It's hot in there, man. We won't be long."
"Just...don't do anything...dumb?" he replied. "Seriously, I mean it."
The lawn was still dark, but the two of us kept ourselves closer to the side of the terrace, under the light. Our conversation quickly faltered, descending to topics related to our costumes, like the Wild West and werewolves. I had to check myself twice before giving away anything about my condition, or saying things that would give Linda cause to doubt my sanity. She in turn didn't say much of interest other than growing up on a farm and having a flair for the western scene.
"Come on, take it off!" she pleaded.
"You sure?" I dramatized. "Do you really want to see the nightmare I keep hidden from the world?"
"That fur felt pretty real in the music room. I've had enough of Mr. Hyde, I want to meet Dr. Jekyll!"
Whether from feeling stuck with her, or just relaxed around her, like an idiot I took off my mask. I expected she might be turned off to know it was Tod the hairy loner underneath the wolf head. Her face registered only a mild surprise, and then wonder. Then came the slew of questions about my wolfish hair growth. The rare moments I gave into curiosity of the few who bothered to stop me in the hall during regular school hours were maddening, especially concerning the more direct questions I had to dodge. Answering them for someone who found me more fascinating than curious or freakish lessened the blow, to the point where it wasn't a blow at all. It spilled over from my hair care habits to my personal life.
I had never felt what came over me that day as strongly, or ever before. I interjected with my own query, a red herring to get her talking. When I finally got myself worked up, I put my hand her shoulder, took off her rawhide hat ceremoniously, then pursed my lips and planted them on Linda's. She embraced it, but only for a little while before pulling back, absently touching her mouth, then promply dismissing herself.
"I...that...I have to go," she announced, hurrying off at a brisk pace, leaving me with her hat.
It took a moment for me to shake off the confusion of the forces clashing in my mind. "Wait, you left your hat!" Hat held high, I trotted after her.
Hope you like the little bit I added at the end. A little nod, a little homage.
The Invitation
Part 3: The Beast
Rough knuckles struck my cheeks and jaw. One lay right into my eye, forcing it shut as I opened the other to the darkness of night. Crickets and cicadas chirped in the distance, none nearby to witness the situation in which I came to. In my one open, beast-tainted eye, light from the moon faintly lit up the lush green of the grass and crisp orange spectrum of tree leaves yet to fall from their deep russet branches. Though metaphorically present, blue was the only color missing from the scene. As I turned my head, the emblazoned "S" on Eric's navy blue costume drew my sight to him as I strained against rough, scratching bark to move toward him, realizing then that I was tied to the trunk of a thick tree.
"Waking up?"
I felt knuckles impale my belly, knocking air out of me. The air agitated in the wake of the blow brought the familiar whiff of eau de scotch to my nose. I moaned out my pain from the tummy ache forced into me the wrong way. I lifted my head toward the direction the punch came from, only getting enough time to count the scant number of people not tied to trees as opposed to just the two, before my gaze was knocked away by another slug to the temple. Still wheezing, I became aware of pain not caused by the blows I felt, and a dull sensation below burgeoning to an unbearable ache.
"Good. You need to know why this is happening," came a voice from in front of me, heralding a bop to the mouth. "You went too far tonight. Crossed the line."
I spit up the tooth I cut my tongue on when it got pushed in, and looked up again. Greg, tough guy jock type, seemed to have it out for me since day one. Maybe it was my accent, maybe it was the beard. He certainly had it out for me for quite a few months, perhaps signs of his deep brooding at near-fruition, near boiling. It was certainly boiling now.
"Stop it!"
Another blow to my gut. I wheezed. "Wrong girl, pal. Wrong girl. From now on, you'll stay away from Linda, if you learned anything tonight."
My body jerked involuntarily, instinctively attempting to cradle and nurse the pain dealt mainly to my gut and groin. I had suffered more while I wasn't awake to feel it. I looked up at the sky. Couldn't see a thing, but I could feel the hair on my arms and legs thicken, my face taking on a shape between two kinds. My fingernails narrowed, lengthened, thickened, and my body got just a bit beefier.
"What the...no! Tod, don't!"
I shot Eric a look and responded with a growl.
"Really, man...you can't!"
Greg turned and struck Eric across the mouth. "Don't undermine the lesson I'm teaching your pet freak, Eric!"
Thunder roiled in the distance, and I sympathized. These kids had it coming so bad, but I was forced to wait. For Eric's sake, I did my best to hold back the beast, putting the claws away. My torso hair slightly poked out from the collar of my longsleeve shirt as I heaved through my nose, my lungs convulsing slightly within my chest, expanding and contracting at a quickening pace. Out of the blue, I felt a power building in me I had never known was there. I desperately wanted to give it a try, but Greg continued to beat Eric in what I assumed was an attempt to silence him, to teach him not to speak out of turn. My sight, through what was currently my good eye, narrowed on Greg to the point where I had to swivel my neck to count the other four disgruntled, drunken future fratboys. Thankfully, they were, far as I could tell, "lined up" for my one, newly-discovered shot at turning the tables without tearing the lot of them to shreds.
"What lesson?" I sputtered. "The only lesson I see you teaching is what not to be. Look in the mirror, Greg! Lessons galore!"
Greg stopped, hesitating a moment, not yet bothering to turn. "What?"
"I bet you wish you could 'teach' her. You're all hot to trot for her, but you can't get within a yard of her to even speak to her," I yammered.
Greg turned. Whatever satisfaction previously graced his face before had left, replaced by bewildered indignation.
"Must be aggravating, 'specially for your diminutive, sociopathic wits. To cope, you feel you have to take your dirty frustration out on the one thing you feel threatened by."
Greg was close now. He was in my face, so close I could spit in his.
"You were beating on him just a second ago, but...you and me, we both know it's not Eric," I chuckled.
Greg let loose the powerful blow he had wound back since closing in on me.
Eric gasped. "Jesus, Tod!"
I felt the wind go out of me again, and it felt like it would be a while before I could gather it up. Meanwhile, I hadn't fully reeled from the blow as Greg slammed his fist across my face. He grabbed my hair and held it fast, bringing blow after blow against me. My soul cried out as he drew blood, and I roared in pain as the soft structure of my nose gave out against his assault. Finally he stopped, and I desperately began gathering myself, my breathing turning ragged.
"I don't think that's enough to teach you," Greg muttered. "Teach him, boys."
The "boys" slowly advanced on me, grinning almost maniacally in the blurry, high contrast of my lowlight vision.
"Teach him all the way."
It was now or never. I inhaled sharply, exhaled, inhaled deeper, exhaled, gathering more power. Finally, I could feel that power fighting in my lungs, begging to be set forth, anticipating the debut of its revelation. And I obliged. I blew, and the force of my breath was released in a torrent of wind that knocked everyone in front of me off their feet, propelling them with the force of a storm. Trees creaked under the force of my breath as the bodies of the students slammed against them. Some of them didn't get up.
"Oww...god, what was that!?" one panicked, as the thunder conveniently bellowed on cue.
"Storm's coming..." one croaked. "we gotta go..."
They each trampled off as soon as they could get to their feet, leaving behind the unconscious ones in their inebriated stupor. With a flex of my muscles and a slight transformation, I took advantage of their withdrawal to break free of the thick twine holding me against the tree. As soon as I wrenched myself free, I ambled over to Eric's tree, and dug the ropes off with my claws.
"Jesus, Tod," he yelped, falling on his face when the ropes gave way. "That wind, man. Was that the storm? We need to get inside."
"That wind, um...I think that was me," I confessed.
Eric's face went pale. "Well, uh, still gonna rain, I guess," he stuttered. "What kind of werewolf power is that?"
"You tell me," I replied. "Goddamn. Parties suck."
He paused. "Well, you know. Not everyone thinks you're hip," he murmured. "Hell, I never would have thought that until I saw you...change. Anyway, I should have told you. That Linda chick: one girl you don't ever go near, unless you want the hammer dropped on you. How'd you know?"
"Lucky guess," I heaved. "Sure as hell wasn't Sadie."
I trained my eyes in the direction of Greg, knocked out cold on the ground several meters away. The bruises on my face were a pain to stretch as I furrowed my bloody brow and curled my cut lips into a mad grimace. Cradling my face, and massaging my gut, I trotted off past the two remaining costumed flunkies. Dan didn't appear to be among them. When I reached the spot where Greg got the daylights knocked out of him, the close-up of his grubby knuckles contorted my expression further than I thought still possible. I had something planned, and in case he woke up before I carried it through, I gave him a couple strong, swift kicks to the ribs, before I hefted him over my shoulders.
"Don't worry. Even if Greg didn't learn his lesson tonight, that won't be the case anymore."
"Hey, hold on..."
I felt a hand grab me as Eric rounded about me to look me in the eye, when he failed to pivot my shoulder. I knew what he was onto. I didn't have to ask him to figure it out. I shot a determined look back at him. He didn't need me to elaborate that, either.
"You can't," he whimpered as I pivoted toward in a direction leading deeper through the forest. "Tod, come on..."
"You don't need to see this."
I trotted off, Greg's arms dangling and swinging against my back occasionally as I carried him along. I snorted and spat a loogie tasting of salt and iron. Behind me, Greg continued to spout reason, seconds passing between each time he called out. "Tod, he's learned his lesson."
"No he hasn't. He never will," I countered, my voice echoless and as cold and neutral as the forest in the darkness.
"Think of his friends, man!"
"What friends? They'll be relieved. No one's gonna miss him."
He shouted one last time: "Tod, think about his family, you're killing them! Tod, you can't do this. Tod, please..."
Greg's breathing became ragged. "Oh damn...that you, Dan? My head hurts like a motherfucker..."
Rain pelted my face, blown by the wind to fall at an angle. I dropped him like a sack of potatoes, watched him claw the grass to stay on his feet.
"Good, I was wondering how long I'd have carry your ass."
"Fuckin' Tod?" Greg yelped in surprise. "Get the fuck off me."
I shoved him to the ground. "No."
"Oh fucking god!"
"What big eyes you have," I commented, glaring past my smashed nose at my screaming meal through one eye. "What big teeth you have..."
The Monster: dreamed up to explain unexplained terrors, sprung forth from the shadows for the sake of a thrill ride, or to spread through rumors to alienate individuals who just don't "belong". When science discovers, when the thrill wears off, we move on. But when the outcast says "enough", The Monster manifests in ways we can only imagine...
in Night Springs
That was amazing, brilliantly-executed for a Halloween-themed story! Well done! Maybe Tod will meet Sadie and/or Linda in future chapters?
Anyways, nice Alan Wake reference at the end, I'm sure Barry Wheeler will be proud.
Thanks! I say that to everyone, lol. But seriously, thank you. I try my best when writing these stories, and you have no clue how much I want to rewrite it everytime I read them, but I guess since everyone enjoys each installment, I must be doing something right. I've started the DLC, and so far, it's fantastic. I'm in the part right after you find Old Man Winter. I'm glad you and everyone else who reads these stories like them.
Pleased to give compliments where they're due. I don't usually want to rewrite, however I do obsess over whether or not I'm using the best words, or whether or not things seem believable - so to speak - so I have an idea of what it might be like haha.
Ooh yeah, freezing a no good splicer is particularly satisfying. If you played the first Bioshock the second DLC part is also brilliant, though it's surely just as good if you haven't.
Summer Vacation
Part 3
"First Georgie....let's take a selfie!"
Next morning
I awoke early the next morning to call the kids. It was 6am here in Portugal and I calculated the time to be 5pm in New York. I dialed my parent's number; my father answered and I could hear one of the girls in the background. I began shaking Georgie awake; he too, couldn't wait to speak to the kids.
"Hey dad," I said excitedly. "How is everything in your neck of the woods?"
"Nothing but peaches and sunshine, Lyla," replied my father. He always said that silly response in regards to something wonderful happening that day. When my sisters and I were little, he'd always say this. Don't know why; it made me happy to hear it again.
"That's good. Mom making dinner?"
"Yup. She has a roast in the oven. Miss Katie has been howling the last thirty minutes because the kitchen smells like meat and potatoes. I tell you, this kid...how is Portugal?"
I yawned before I spoke. "It's beautiful out here. The weather is perfect, the hotel is wonderful and tell mom this for me-Georgie ate his FIRST Portuguese meal and enjoyed it! The food and the view, dad...it's all spectacular. We really needed this..."
"That is good, sweetie. Here...let me put the phone on speaker for you. I've got all the kids."
As I transferred over to speaker phone, Georgie and I could hear Katie howling and the other three cooing and gurgling. I began speaking into the phone.
"Hi my babies! Katie. Junior. Penny...Emily, sweetie. Mommy loves you four very much."
The room was filled with howls, while we heard the faint 'I wuv you mama' through the phone. Junior tried speaking but all he could do was spit and chew on the mouth piece. As Georgie spoke, however, Emily became very vocal.
"Hello, my babies," he said, as the babies became very active. "Daddy misses you and loves you all. Having fun with Nana and Papa?"
We heard Emily on the phone. "Dada, mommy-we go fish bye bye tomorrow."
"Oh yeah," answered Georgie. The biggest smile on his face. It was nice seeing him so content.
"Yeah. Fishy bye bye. Go swim fishy!"
We talked with the kids for a few more minutes, before we said our goodbyes and kissed each one of them through the phone. My dad and I talked a bit more; he and my mother were taking the quads fishing in the morning. He wanted the quads, especially Katie, to get in touch with their wolf side. We hung up; not before I could hear the kids playing and yelling once more.
Georgie and I laid back down and simply enjoyed the quiet surrounding us. I curled up beside him and placed my head on his chest.
"You still up for some mountain biking?"
"Where is that going to be at?"
"I looked around online and searched the map. I got the number to a place in Algarve. It has endless roads of dirt, extinct volcanoes you can ride on and a national park located not too far from the area. There is an all day tour today at 10am. You up, Georgie?"
I could see the wheels turning in his head. I swore his facial expressions changed every ten seconds. He agreed to the bike adventure, after we had breakfast and showered. We ate a tiny meal; we had orange juice, croissants and fruit. We both changed into tank tops, sneakers and shorts; it was hilarious watching Georgie change into tan shorts. Since I've known him, he's always had pants.
We left the hotel and took a taxi to Algarve. When we reached the desolate area, the view was brilliant. We were surrounded by mountains, extinct volcanoes and endless miles of trees. Our tour guide provided Georgie and I the biking gear. When we mounted the bikes and buckled in the helmets, we both took off down a trail, heading to large rocks and cliffs overlooking the waters.
I stopped to take pictures; it was breathtaking, as I snapped photos left and right. The babies would get copies and when they understood, I'd show them. Even Georgie took a minute to capture the scenery.
"It's beautiful, Georgie," I said, as I snapped a few more images.
"Yeah...it is, love."
We were soon heading down a dirt road and into lush miles of trees and brush. We found a shady area and picnicked. Georgie poured the wine, while I placed the sandwiches and chips on paper plates. While we ate, I sent some of the pictures on my phone to my mom; she wanted to see how the place look and relive her childhood. This would make her day.
After our lunch, we continued down the road. Groups of gulls flew above us; their shrill cries echoing through the sky. I waited for it; soon, their cries would not be the only thing making noise. Right on cue, Georgie began screaming and throwing tiny pebbles to the sky. They came crashing down, like heavy droplets of water.
"Fuck off," he shrieked, continuing to toss the rocks. "SHOO! Fuck, I hate birds! WHY the fuck, do you show up now, when earlier, you were no where to be found?!"
I waited for him to finish his little fit; half the time, I couldn't figure out who was worse-him or the birds? After he 'successfully' scared off the gulls, we continued down the road. We came across an old village abandoned hundreds of years ago. I began taking pictures, while Georgie walked around and observed the old village. We both walked until we came to an old church; the rusty bell hung above the gaping ceiling, as the wind carelessly blew threw. Georgie sat on an old, rotting pew. There were statues on of various saints surrounding us; in silence we sat, as we took in the marvelous surroundings we witnessed.
"This...this is nothing like I've ever seen," whispered Georgie. "You're right...Portugal has a lot of hidden treasures to see..."
He wrapped his arm around us, as we continued to sit and enjoy the quiet. After thirty more minutes, we headed back to the reservation. After we dropped off the equipment and caught a cab, Georgie and I headed back to the hotel. A nap was in the works; after being under the sun and working our leg muscles, we both were ready to rest.
That night, we would try and catch a show. For now, it was rest we would be catching.
Thank you! I have dropped a couple rare Alan Wake references on this site, but it's a shame not a lot of people here get it. And I admit it, I feel deviously proud of myself that not many members pick up on it. Barry Wheeler fan --> :P Specifically, my deal with Night Springs is that a reference to it is also a reference to Twilight Zone, which I also like.
I gave characters other than Eric and Tod names so that I could refer to them as more than "that student" or "that jock" or "that furry" or "that cowgirl"(which would have more implications which I specifically didn't want to imply). In regards to Sadie, I apologize, but poor Tod nop'd the hell outta there. He was polite about it, though, gotta give him some credit.
I'm not saying no, but I haven't given much thought to those characters beyond their roles in this chapter. What I wouldn't do to get the What-If-inator from Futurama for just one day...
EDIT: Oh, and in addition, I like to think that during the budding years of the furry community(at least two decades after the debut of the work they claim to be their roots), it wasn't very widely recognized, which probably didn't help the mainstream impression of it, as most people weren't aware of the movement/niche with which to associate people who were into that. Hope that explains and alludes to anything and everything having to do with other characters' view of Sadie. She was at the party, though, so who knows what the circumstances were leading to her obviously official invite. I don't think we'll ever know.
That picture! lol That made my day!
Good job like always, pie! Can't wait for more and your next installment for the quads! 'Let's take a selfie' He should smile more often. 
I've played all the Bioshocks, they were amazing. It's hard to get over the fact that Elizabeth and Booker are in Rapture, as well as Elizabeth becoming such an adult. I miss when she was just a curious teenage (er...20 year old. Close enough) girl, who'd never been outside of her own tower before. It feels too sudden.
Aw! Bigby and Snow are married... :333 Really great story, I loved it. Can't wait for more! I guess Bigby and Snow didn't bring their kids? lol.
Yes! Respect for you man, I too, am a fan of Alan Wake. (and Barry Wheeler
) Since you referenced Night Springs, I can still picture the Old Gods of Aasgard singing their epic ballads of song as Alan mows down waves of Taken with a flare gun in hand and a heavy duty flashlight in the other.
I wonder how Remedy's new game will turn out for the Xbox 1, since they're not currently making an Alan Wake sequel.
Plus, you are welcome, you totally deserved the compliment. It is entirely up to you if you want to include more Mundy 'relationships' with Tod, as his friendship with Eric is fine so far. It's just that I think it would be more interesting if you could include at least one of the two girls, because you certainly piqued my interest when you brought them into the story.
Don't worry about the whole furry thing either, I didn't mind that. I considered her to be a chick that wore a bird costume, like how 47 did in that Mardi Gras level. (if you ever played Hitman: Blood Money, that is)
Sure? You can certainly try to get Tezoth in there, if you really wanted to. I would be surprised if you do consider it. :P
Now I can picture Georgie making a makeshift slingshot out of sticks to fight the seagulls with. Thanks for the laugh, pudding_pie.