That was a really good bit of writing! I'd never before imagined the Fresh Prince kneecapping the Little Tea Pot with a baseball bat, so that's definitely something to take away.
Okay, I'll make a story. But I'm warning you, you've created a monster.
… more /***\
*Footsteps echoed down the dark alleyway, their splashes damp with the night's rain. A short, stout man stumbled behind a dark green garbage bin. His short, desperate breath's could be seen in the chilling night air. The man closed his eyes and silently prayed that the person...THING, that was after him wouldn't be able to catch up. Praying, however, was useless. *
"I'm a little tea pot..." There was a loud clang of metal on metal farther down the alley. The man froze. No...surely he couldn't be here? He lost it at the intersection! It's impossible!
"Short and fat..." The noise was closer to the cowering man this time. By now, the poor guy was sweating profusely. His hot sweat combined with the freezing New York rain almost made it seem as if ste… [view original content]
The wind began to pick up; several trash bags, leaves and large clouds of dust flew past me. A couple of them danced along side me, then ended along the branches and light poles. I continued walking down the side walk and towards my parent's tiny two bedroom apartment.
Since my father handed Emily everything in regards to the club, the two of them moved out and into an apartment. They seemed to enjoy it; they had their own space to come and go as they pleased and since we were all adults now, they had time to themselves. Mom told me the other day they had a date night, something they had not had since they began dating. It was nice hearing that, knowing they were getting out and doing something together.
By the time I reached the apartment, my feet were sore and my throat parched. I could use a cold glass of water by now. Mom opened the door, smiled and gave me a loving embrace. I could smell dinner from the doorway; it reminded me instantly of my childhood. She was constantly in the kitchen and when no one was looking, give me the leftover scraps from pieces that fell off. A couple of times while she cooked, dad would hold me while I gnawed on a bone. He'd chuckle everytime I growled and would always crack a joke. 'Its pretty dead, son. Its not going anywhere.'
"There is my big handsome boy!" Mom instantly covered my face in kisses. I could feel the thick layers of lipstick left on each cheek.
"MOM! Seriously! Someone could be watching!"
"Oh, stop! I'm your mother! I can kiss you all I want!"
I laughed, as I nonchalantly tried to wipe the lipstick marks. Sho noticed, however and gave me a quick swipe. I could never pull a fast one of mom, even to this day.
"Where is dad?"
"He is up in his office. He's been working on a project now."
"How..how is he today?"
"He's doing good, Peter. Dr. Swineheart said all we could do was take it one day at a time. He has his good days and bad."
I didn't want to think of my father withering away. "Can I go see him?"
"Peter! Of course. Come inside. The others should be here soon." Great. Just great.
As mom closed the door behind me, I headed up to his office. As I walked down the halls, pictures of memorie's past watched my every move. I noticed several of my parents; it was nice to see dad smile in these. Mom, like always, looked so radiant. Then, there were the group photos of my siblings and I. God, Penny and Katie always looked disgusted when I was with them. I stared at a particulair one; we were all in a kiddie pool one hot summer, swimming and playing sharks. Again, I looked so out of place. Ugh. Fuck. I looked just LIKE him, even as a child.
I wanted to take this picture down and cut me out of it. Why should I even be in these, I thought. Its no wonder Penny and Katherine want nothing to do with me. Ruining what they had before I cam along. Thank God for the others, aat least, especially Ethan. He was my saving grace.
"I remember that day."
I turned around and noticed dad. He had some color today and didn't look as tired as he usually did.
"Hey, dad."
"There is my boy." Like mom, he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a loving embrace. I buried my face into his neck, closed my eyes and pictured my five year old self. Even to this day, I still enjoyed getting hugs from dad. At least he didn't leave lipstick marks on my face.
"You look better today..."
"I feel better, Peter."
He smiled and took me under his arm, as we walked into his office. As he closed the door, I looked around the room that was once mine and Ethan's; the walls were covered in pictures we all drew for him over the years, various photos of us kids and the many projects he was working on. They were mostly boats and horse carriages for some odd reason. Something to do with the homelands; I don't know. With dad, I never asked too many questions.
"Wow. You've been busy."
"Yeah. I try to keep my mind occupied. Fuck's sake!"
I looked over and noticed he accidentaly sliced his thumb open. As I rushed to grab paper towels, he began to laugh. Was he being serious?
"DAD! What are you laughing at?! This is not funny!"
"You are just like your mother...always fuckin' worried about something."
Yeah. Like mom. Not like you at all....I tried shaking the thought away but it was no use. Dad could see my face expression change; I was no longer concentrating on his finger but something else.
"Peter."
"Yes...dad?"
"You okay, son? You look like you have something heavy on your mind."
"No. Just...the usual. School and work..."
"That all?"
"Yeah...that's it." I hated lying to dad. Think he could tell I was not telling him everything. He was good at that. All he did was pat me on the shoulder and continue to clean up his thumb.
"Well, you know. If you DO have something you wanna talk about, you can come to me, Peter..."
I knew that but I didn't want to bother him with my troubles. It was something I had to deal with; learn how to either forget or control it. That's were mom came in. I had to ask. I had to talk.
"I know, dad. I...I know."
Dad dropped the subject; I could tell he would be right there when I spoke to mom later. Great. Just fucking great. I walked over to a red boat and examined it. Dad noticed my actions, walked over and grabbed my shoulder.
"You like that one? Been working on this for years."
"Yeah, I actually remember it. I...I remember you working on this when I was a kid. It turned out real good!"
"Yeah. That's right. I had you in one arm, Ethan in the other. I was determined to finish it."
Dad was silent. I noticed his face was turned and looking at a picture of me and him. I believe I was two or three; I was tiny in his arms and he was reading me a story. Mom must have taken the picture.
"You were so little as a child, Peter. My runt. I love you, son. I want you to know that."
"Dad. I do know that-"
"Sometimes it feels like I have to remind you of that. You look at me like you question that...like I NEED to tell you that everyday."
"No, dad. I know you love me. Its just, these last couple of days....I've had a lot on my mind. About...dumb shit."
"We all questions our lives sometimes, Peter. Its a normal behavior. But when you begin to question what you already know, that's when it can drive a person insane and lose all control of themselves. No matter what you hear, no matter what you may think, I love you and that will never change. Do you understand me?"
I tried to hide the tears. I didn't want to cry in front of him. He smiled and kissed my forehead. "I do, dad. I know you love me...I love you, too."
Ugh, God. The hell is wrong with me? As he hugged me, mom came into the room.
"Dinner is ready in a few. The others should be here soon. Goahead and come down and wash up."
As mom left, dad grabbed my arm and gave it a friendly punch.
"C'mon, boy. Let's go have dinner."
Dad and I walked side by side down the hall. As we passed by all the portraits, the feelings came back. All those eyes watching me. Judging me. Questioning who I really was. I grabbed dad's hand and held onto it tight. He held it tightly, as we walked into the kitchen.
Guess he could see it. I just wanted to get answers and get tonight overwith.
I just wanted to be whole.
End of Peter's story. Onto Penelope's story. Hope you enjoyed. I promise the next story will have pictures. Been so busy!
Peter Porgie
Part 3
The wind began to pick up; several trash bags, leaves and large clouds of dust flew past me. A couple of them danc… moreed along side me, then ended along the branches and light poles. I continued walking down the side walk and towards my parent's tiny two bedroom apartment.
Since my father handed Emily everything in regards to the club, the two of them moved out and into an apartment. They seemed to enjoy it; they had their own space to come and go as they pleased and since we were all adults now, they had time to themselves. Mom told me the other day they had a date night, something they had not had since they began dating. It was nice hearing that, knowing they were getting out and doing something together.
By the time I reached the apartment, my feet were sore and my throat parched. I could use a cold glass of water by now. Mom opened the door, smiled and gave me a loving embrace. I could smell dinner from the do… [view original content]
I lay defeated on the ground, my left arm covered in blood. Bluebeard is good... a really good swordsman.. I didn't stand a chance. What happens now... I lost? Bluebeard walks over to me and helps me up. He tell his butler to release my brother, and he explains to me that 'it wasn't his true intention to put it's previous condition.'
He told me that Barney was paying him a dept he owed. Not sure if to call this bullshit but what he is saying seems accurate enough. Barney is gone and my neighborhood. Is back to what it use to be, that only leaves one thing..
I've asked Bluebeard about what he meant before our fight. He told me that me and brother Walter are human fables. What the hell is a fable? I know that we are descendants of the English Legend Robin Hood, but what he is telling us is that, we are practically immortal? Sure, and my next door neighbor is related to the Queen of Sheba.
All of this stuff he's telling me, its a bit overwhelming.. Whats also on my mind is why did he let me and my brother go and why is he telling both of this? He must want something in return...
Of course he do, in exchange for sparing our lives and feeding us all of this information, I guest it was right to repay him... We listen to what he had to say, he wanted us to retrieve a stolen artifact from a 'mundy' museum in Staten Island. He gave us a picture of the item, and we accepted... The sooner we do this the sooner we don't have to worry about this bald bastard again...and don't think I forgot about you Redd...
As we prepare to leave I open the door slightly and see a middle age man walking down the hall. He had a wolverine pressense to him idk...something was beastly and intimidating about this guy.
Bluebeard slams the door suspiciously and tells us to use the window..
My brother has a bad feeling about this. I tell him that we are in the clear and once we get Bluebeard's item back we are home free. Walter rolls his eyes and says "What happen to justice?"
I told him that its already taken care of Barney is away, now once when we pay off our dept, we can go back to our normal lives. Then my knucklehead brother yells out 'WHAT NORMAL LIVES?' then we make our way to our next destination.
To be continued
Robby is going to catch up with Redd soon...
I'm introducing 1 new folklore also next chapter here's a clue:
Its appearance was regarded as a portent of death. It is generally supposed to be larger than a normal dog, and often has large, glowing eyes
Well, I'm going to toss something out there. Bare with me on this, I never was good in English class back in high school, I just never cared to pay attention to grammar.
The Black Dog
Mundie Name: Rode Ogen
Fable name: Old Red Eyes, The Black dog.
Physical Appearance:Rode, is capable of changing shape between a human form, and a canine form without a glamor
Standing six foot tall, Rode is a caucasian male with black hair and brown hair. He has a more pale complexion. He normally wears black clothing that has an off green tint, or Celtic designs on the material. His eyes turn red when using his black dogs abilities as a human. His body is athleticly toned, with leaner thin muscle that is well toned.
While in his true form, the black dog, has coal black fur, with an odd green shimmer if light touches it, it's red eyes seem to burn with flames within. He stands as tall as he did in human size, six foot tall, being a daunting unearthly hound that he is. In this form he has three eyes, the thrid eye claiming to be able to peer into one's soul.
Legend: The Black Dog, is said to be a benevolent spirit, the protector of children and a protector of travelers on the roads, though repeated visits from him is said to be an omen of death and they say seeing it was an omen of death to come, and claims have said those who meet them at a cross road all have gone deaf, blind or mute, from the event. The black dog 's howl sends shivers to the soul, its howl alone has claimed to frighten people and led them to their own doom. Other have claimed that the black dog is just a watchman, there to watch those close to death, to help guide their souls to the afterlife, commonly found near prisons before executions.
Fabletown: Rode has no current connections to Fabletown. It is said he travels place to place staying under the radar in Europe other then a few sightings across the board that spring up, nothing to pin down his location exactly or where he well turn up next.
Starting:
It was a cool night, a enticing break from the hot summer's day, the streets where alittle more busy then normal. "So..." Rode said looking over the buildings "This is what Fabletown looks like, fitting." He mused running his hand along a building slipping into the shadows of the alleyways "But what did I expect, a glimpse of the old world. Ha. Stupid of me" He sniffed at the scents in the air and leaned back against the wall looking out of the alleyway at a bar across the street. He smiled to himself thinking of the people he had met in the past who travel to such locations to try and drink their sins and worries away, drowning themselves in alcohol and guilt. He shook his head steping forward as two people blocked the entrance of the alley.
"Well well well, what do we have here" one of the two men taunted "A little stray wandering all lost down the wrong street"
"Now, give us what you got and no one gets hurt" The second man revealed a knife threateningly "I will cut you"
"Gentlemen" Rode said stepping toward them "You have to the count of five to piss off."
"Fuck, gut him" The first hissed at the comment
"This is what happens when you fuck with us boy" The man stepped forward thrusting at Rode. The man dressed in black stepped backwards evading the attack "Stand still" The thug growled as he pursued the man again with his knife.
"Stop screwing around and stab him already" the first demanded.
"I'll call that five" Rode stepped forward grabbing the mans hand and snapping the thug's wrist causing him to drop the knife. Rode's eyes glowed red as he smiled a toothy grin as he tossed the one thug to the side into the wall and dashed at the second who had started to turn to run, grabbing him and dragging him back into he shadows, pressing his fingers into the mans eyes, til that popped under the pressure, then tossed the screaming thug to the side turning the the other.
The thug was scrambling for his knife, reaching out for it only to be kicked in the chest by Rode, rolling him back over to the wall once more "M-mercy" The man pleaded.
"IF that is what you wish." Rode laughed grabbing the man, forcing his mouth open with one hand,placing a finger on the man's tongue burning a hole through it as his eyes glowed brightly "You'll probably live. If you're lucky" He looked back to the entrance of the alley, the screams had caught attention.
A light clicked on in the alley lighting it up "I'm going to need back up on my location" A police office quickly headed down the alleyway to the two man laying there "Dispatch we are going need medical assistance, two civilians wounded, The assailant no where in sight"
Rode jumped to the next building and climbed down the fire escape, before stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked away "Humans, they never listen." he sighed as he strolled off "Now i gone and made a mess."
Peter Porgie
Part 3
The wind began to pick up; several trash bags, leaves and large clouds of dust flew past me. A couple of them danc… moreed along side me, then ended along the branches and light poles. I continued walking down the side walk and towards my parent's tiny two bedroom apartment.
Since my father handed Emily everything in regards to the club, the two of them moved out and into an apartment. They seemed to enjoy it; they had their own space to come and go as they pleased and since we were all adults now, they had time to themselves. Mom told me the other day they had a date night, something they had not had since they began dating. It was nice hearing that, knowing they were getting out and doing something together.
By the time I reached the apartment, my feet were sore and my throat parched. I could use a cold glass of water by now. Mom opened the door, smiled and gave me a loving embrace. I could smell dinner from the do… [view original content]
Copy and paste the picture in your usb to whatever folder you store your pictures in, until you eventually post your image online. (any photo-sharing website should suffice) Then, copy and paste the link to your picture and it should show.
I guess either Photobucket, imgur, tumblr, or even Deviantart would be the most likely ones that I can think of. I have no idea about Google Plus or Instagram though, you can certainly try it.
Chapter 5 Woodlands Part 2
I lay defeated on the ground, my left arm covered in blood. Bluebeard is good... a really good swordsman.. I d… moreidn't stand a chance. What happens now... I lost? Bluebeard walks over to me and helps me up. He tell his butler to release my brother, and he explains to me that 'it wasn't his true intention to put it's previous condition.'
He told me that Barney was paying him a dept he owed. Not sure if to call this bullshit but what he is saying seems accurate enough. Barney is gone and my neighborhood. Is back to what it use to be, that only leaves one thing..
I've asked Bluebeard about what he meant before our fight. He told me that me and brother Walter are human fables. What the hell is a fable? I know that we are descendants of the English Legend Robin Hood, but what he is telling us is that, we are practically immortal? Sure, and my next door neighbor is related to the Queen of Sheba.
All of this stuff… [view original content]
I might as well say this before I forget. Given the recent 'events' that happened over the past week or so, and how people are still playing/finishing up The Wolf Among Us finale. I will not be doing a story challenge for this month, but, I still plan on typing up another F.S.A. discussion for July.
So yeah, just a little thing to let you all know what's going on.
Well, I'm going to toss something out there. Bare with me on this, I never was good in English class back in high school, I just never care… mored to pay attention to grammar.
The Black Dog
Mundie Name: Rode Ogen
Fable name: Old Red Eyes, The Black dog.
Physical Appearance: Rode, is capable of changing shape between a human form, and a canine form without a glamor
Standing six foot tall, Rode is a caucasian male with black hair and brown hair. He has a more pale complexion. He normally wears black clothing that has an off green tint, or Celtic designs on the material. His eyes turn red when using his black dogs abilities as a human. His body is athleticly toned, with leaner thin muscle that is well toned.
While in his true form, the black dog, has coal black fur, with an odd green shimmer if light touches it, it's red eyes seem to burn with flames within. He stands as tall as he did in human size, six foot tall, being a daunt… [view original content]
When I first heard the glass break, I automatically assumed it was a client. We had some that had no idea what 'no' meant and I was sure it was our bouncer taking 'care' of the problem. Then, I heard one after another and seconds later, that heavy British accent.
"Fook! 'Ell is goin' on?! Ain't got no 'elp 'round here!"
I quickly grabbed my robe, dressed and ran to his bathroom. There he was; vomit covering the front of his jacket, his skin as white as snow and his eyes blod shot. He smelled something awful and I'm not sure he remembered who I was. He stared at me with a muddled look in his eyes. I slowly walked over to his side, picked him up and forced him to sit on the toilet seat.
He picked up his arms and tried swinging in my direction; he was struggling, however, to find my location and instead, swung his fist into the wall. The skin cracked open and he began to bleed. I watched as the blood trickled down his white knuckles and form a pool around his lap. Great. Now I have this to take care of.
"Oliver, please! Sit still!"
"Don't ya' tooch me, you stupid fookin' bitch! I'm in no foockin' mood to have ya' treatin' me like some fookin' child! Now, leave me be, so I can finish my drugs!"
I noticed the puncture marks all along his arms and neck. Some of them were still fresh and a couple had tiny trails of blood trickling down. I sighed and ignored his remarks. Again, he tried to take a swing but fell to the floor. I peered down and noticed he was in and out of conscience. I was used to this. Since I began working for him two years ago, this was a routine for us. It wasn't all bad; Oliver was a sweetheart to me most of the time
"Get up, Oliver! I'm not going to pick you up..."
Luckily, one of the dancers found me and Oliver in the bathroom. He was stunned to see the boss on the floor. He looked in my direction and before he spoke, Oliver began to mumble something I couldn't quite understand.
"Uhhh, do I WANT to know what happened here?"
"Look at his arms, Dice. He's been doing Heroin again. Help me move him to the bed, please."
Dice grabbed on side, while I held onto the other. We leaned his body against the bed, as I tried to clean him up. He was still mumbling nonsense. I could hear Dice sighing behind me. That was one thing about him I couldn't stand. He ALWAYS had to make me feel 'terrible' for helping Oliver.
"You are setting yourself up for more heart ache, Penny."
"Shut the fuck up, Dice. He....he needs help. What was I supposed to do-leave him there and drown in his own vomit and blood?"
"Uh, yeah. He IS a Fable. Not like a little vomit or blood will kill him..."
Easy for you to say; you are a Vampire. Only proper way to kill YOU guys was beheading. The more popular you were, the harder it was to kill you. Oliver was not a very popular Fable; something like overdosing on mundy drugs could easliy end his life. I felt like I HAD to save him. There were times, however, I didn't want to and see how far I could go before he was knocking on death's door. During these times, all I could picture was my father.
Oliver and my father, the infamous Georgie Porgie, used to work together. Oliver would provide my father with items that were difficult to come across and my father would provide the drugs. I heard stories of the two of them drinking Champagne and snorting Cocaine in the back room. My mother had the patience of a saint, when it came to dealing with my father. Yet, here I was, doing the exact same fucking shit. Fuck me, man. I loved my father but the man was a fool and a criminal. I tried diligently to forget WHO he was in the past and WHAT he used to be. God. i WAS becoming my mother and it made me sick.
"Dice. Just-can you just go away, please?"
"Penny...gees. I was just giving you a hard time-"
"You've been doing that a lot, Dice! I'm all alone in this! I can't just ignore this and leave him to die. I'm hoping he will get the hint one day and just stop..."
Dice sighed. "Its...its never that easy, Penny. They NEED a reason to stop..."
I tried to ignore him, as I wiped the corners of Oliver's mouth. He shifted to the left and pressed his head against the wall. His eyes were open and seem to stare into nothing; they were no longer green but a had the appearance glass. I tried speaking to him but it was no use. As i began searching the medicine cabinet for his pills, Dice walked over to our boss and began cleaning the blood around his nose and arms.
"Stupid idiot..." I tried not to laugh, as he mumbled these words. "God, he's such a fuckin' idiot! Why would someone do this shit? I had a cousin that overdosed. He didn't die but that shit messed him up bad. He has bad migraines all the time and he wakes up in severe pain around his chest."
"My dad used to do this shit..."
"Oh yeah. That's right. It was your mom, huh?"
I was confused. "My...my mom?"
"Yeah. That gave him a second chance and allowed him to quit."
I was assuming that was the story; he was horrible back in the days and I'm guessing mom had a huge part in that but who knows. They never discussed what took place before me or my siblings came along. Honestly, a part of me didn't want to know.
"I guess, Dice. Sure."
I finally found the pills, popped the top and gently placed one under his lip. He moved for a short period of time, glanced in my direction and without hesitation, closed his eyes. Dice picked him up and carried him into his room. I flipped the switch, as he gently placed Oliver down on the bed.
"Ha. His room always feels like I went back into the 1970's. Look at all this shit!"
I flipped him onto his side, as Dice began tracing his fingers along the items in Oliver's room. He was always so fascinated with the Lava lamp and disco ball that hung above his head. It was true; being in his room made me feel strange and lost. He used to have a hot tub in his room but the damn thing leaked and ruined his furry purple carpet. It was a pain pulling the soaking wet mess up and replacing it.
"Let's go, Dice. Let him rest..."
"Hey. You go on tonight?"
"No. I'm having dinner with my folks..."
"Huh. That's new."
Truth is, I was not looking forward to going. Having mom worry about me, seeing Peter there when he didn't belong in the first place; Junior judging me like always, Emily high as fuck, Katie an emotional mess, Ethan hyperventilating over everything and then, there was dad. Last time I saw him he looked awful; so pale, weak and tired. I did worry about him. Maybe that was why. A part of me still cared. A part of me wanted answers.
"Yeah. I guess...."
I walked past Dice and headed straight into my room. I didn't give him the chance to speak; the door was closed; locked and radio turned way up. 'It's 2am' played in the background, as I flopped onto my bed and took out my phone. Two missed messages; one from mom, the other from Katie. God dammit, people. Great. Emily got arrested again.That girl, I swear to god. Dad...just like dad...
I reached under my bed and pulled out a photo. This silly thing always brought me back to a happy place.
"God, look at all of us...those were some wonderful times."
In the picture, we all were so content. We had nothing to worry about or question. Things change, however and within months, our world came crashing down and so many skeletons were coming out from the closet. Even back then, I tried so hard to ignore and pretend like none of that mattered to me. But it did. It always did. I grasped the picture against my chest and broke down into tears.
"Why...why won't you talk to us, dad? Why won't you tell us what happened...."
Suddenly, I snapped back into reality when I heard his voice again. "PENNY! PENNY! Where the fook are ya,' Penny!? I need ya, woman!"
I slid the picture back under the mattress, wiped away the tears, fixed my makeup and rushed to his side.
Just like mom used to do so many years ago.
Part 2 coming soon. Hope you enjoyed.
NOTE: Feel free to ask questions if anything is confusing and I will TRY to explain without giving too much away.
Damn! Oliver is pimpin in that suit! XD Love the images!
I think I get it...Penny hates who her father WAS but she is also living the same way her parents did. Seems like Georgie kept A LOT from the kids. Plus, seems like people in Fabletown are beginning to open their mouth about a lot of things. Good work like always! MORE!!!
Penelope Porgie
Part 1
"Candyman"
"Oliver"
When I first heard the glass break, I automatically assumed it was a client. … moreWe had some that had no idea what 'no' meant and I was sure it was our bouncer taking 'care' of the problem. Then, I heard one after another and seconds later, that heavy British accent.
"Fook! 'Ell is goin' on?! Ain't got no 'elp 'round here!"
I quickly grabbed my robe, dressed and ran to his bathroom. There he was; vomit covering the front of his jacket, his skin as white as snow and his eyes blod shot. He smelled something awful and I'm not sure he remembered who I was. He stared at me with a muddled look in his eyes. I slowly walked over to his side, picked him up and forced him to sit on the toilet seat.
He picked up his arms and tried swinging in my direction; he was struggling, however, to find my location and instead, swung his fist into the wall. The skin cracked open and he began to ble… [view original content]
Well, I'm going to toss something out there. Bare with me on this, I never was good in English class back in high school, I just never care… mored to pay attention to grammar.
The Black Dog
Mundie Name: Rode Ogen
Fable name: Old Red Eyes, The Black dog.
Physical Appearance: Rode, is capable of changing shape between a human form, and a canine form without a glamor
Standing six foot tall, Rode is a caucasian male with black hair and brown hair. He has a more pale complexion. He normally wears black clothing that has an off green tint, or Celtic designs on the material. His eyes turn red when using his black dogs abilities as a human. His body is athleticly toned, with leaner thin muscle that is well toned.
While in his true form, the black dog, has coal black fur, with an odd green shimmer if light touches it, it's red eyes seem to burn with flames within. He stands as tall as he did in human size, six foot tall, being a daunt… [view original content]
Penelope Porgie
Part 1
"Candyman"
"Oliver"
When I first heard the glass break, I automatically assumed it was a client. … moreWe had some that had no idea what 'no' meant and I was sure it was our bouncer taking 'care' of the problem. Then, I heard one after another and seconds later, that heavy British accent.
"Fook! 'Ell is goin' on?! Ain't got no 'elp 'round here!"
I quickly grabbed my robe, dressed and ran to his bathroom. There he was; vomit covering the front of his jacket, his skin as white as snow and his eyes blod shot. He smelled something awful and I'm not sure he remembered who I was. He stared at me with a muddled look in his eyes. I slowly walked over to his side, picked him up and forced him to sit on the toilet seat.
He picked up his arms and tried swinging in my direction; he was struggling, however, to find my location and instead, swung his fist into the wall. The skin cracked open and he began to ble… [view original content]
NOTE: Before I forget, someone asked me HOW I was to continue, since Georgie was killed off. Simple: he was brought back. By who, that is another story. Guess John knew all along the fate of his daughter. Junior's story, however, WILL be changed and I already have an idea on that situation. Hopefully the changes will be alright to everyone. Enjoy.
Dear Diary: God. He did it again. He's in the room right now sleeping. Going over to mom and dad's place later for dinner. I need to go. I don't want to. Peter will be there. I wish he wouldn't. It's for PORGIES only but I'm not there for him. I'm there because of dad. My anger for him still comes and go. I wish he would TALK but instead, he sits there with a smile like nothing is wrong in this world. Hopefully he is feeling better. Can't believe Emily. Well, no. I can. Fuck! I hear him calling me. Better go. Wish me luck. xoxo
"PENNY! PENELOPE!!!"
I closed the book and ran into his room. He was going into shock; his body was trembling and shaking like a leaf. His skin was clamy and pale and his forehead was drenched in sweat. When I touched his skin, it was cold and stiff. Frantically, I searched his bathroom cabinets for something to help the trembling.
"Pen...Penelope, dear. C'mon over here. Sit by me...UGGH, fook! My head!"
"I'm trying to find your pills, Oliver! Where the fuck did you move them now?"
He was silent; I asked him again and when I didn't get a response, walked back into the room. He had stopped breathing; his face was a pale blue and his eyes had sunk back into his skull. I panicked, as I screamed for Dice; for anyone that would take their time to help a poor girl and her dying pimp. God. I WAS mom....When no one came to my aide, my anxiety levels rose high and soon, my heart was racing. FUCK!
I performed CPR on him for awhile; thank God, because Dice heard my pleas and rushed to my side. By his side, however, stood another one of the dancers. Chad Mann, a guy I've known for years, ran into the bathroom and began searching for the pills. Dice dialed Swineheart, while I continued breathing into Oliver's mouth. 'Come on you idiot,' I thought, as I pushed down onto his chest. 'Please! Don't you die on me! Don't you leave me...'
Chad returned with a bottle of Evzio and with my help, he took the pill and shoved it into the back of his throat. I poured some water after it and helped massage the pill down. When he was not responding, I again attempted to perform CPR. After what felt like an eternity, his eyes fluttered opened, he leaned forward and began gasping for air.
"Fucking idiot, Oliver! What did you do that for, huh?! You had me worried sick!"
"Oh...cough...calm down, Penny. cough I'm fine...just ugh...give me a minute."
Dice looked at me direction; he looked annoyed that I even tried to save his life. Let him die, Penny. If he DOES make it, so be it. It's not your responsibility to save him if he does not want it.... Easier said then done, so, I turned around and focused my attention on Oliver.
"Chad-"
"Yes, sir?"
"Go...cough...go get me a glass of Vodka, please."
"OLIVER! You just overdosed! You almost died! You don't need alcohol!"
Oliver turned around and seemed irritated. He walked over to me; his nose inches from my face. His piercing green eyes with the apperance of glass, stared deep into mine. The smell of smoke, liquor and sex was intense and left me feeling light headed.
"Are you my mother, Penny?"
"No, but-"
"So, what ARE you, Penny? HMMM?! If you ARE NOT my mother, than who are you!?"
I looked over at both Dice and Chad; they both turned their heads and tried to make eye contact with me. They knew their places; God forbid if either of them opened their mouth at that moment. Oliver was a mean, vigorous man that was capable of yanking out your own eye before you noticed it was missing.
"Your...your girl, sir."
"That is foockin' right, Penny. MY GIRL! Not my mother, okay? 'Member your place!"
"I DID just save your life, Oliver! Dice wanted to leave you and-"
"HEY, whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA! Don't go throwing ME under the bus, just because YOUR lover made a comment and got pissed off at you!"
"I'm not, Dice! I'm simply STATING that I WANTED to save him!"
"Oh big fucking whoopty fucking doo, Penny! I-"
We suddenly stopped when Oliver slammed his fist into the wall, leaving yet another hole. More work for Chad later on.
"ENOUGH! The both of ya's! One more word outta of your mouth, Dice and so 'elp me! Maybe next time you will get your wish, huh Dice? Ya' want me dead so bad?!"
Both Dice and I looked, as he pulled out a fully loaded pistol. After he cocked it, he threw it at dice. Chad backed up into the corner; his alarmed facial expressions should have given it away.
"Then go on! Kill me right here! Pull that trigger and end it all now! Go on!"
"OLIVER!"
"Be quiet, Penny! You said it yourself, no? Go on, Dice! Ya' want me dead so bad-then do it!"
Oliver grabbed the barrel and jammed it into the side of his skull. Dice's hands began to shake, as Oliver continued screaming at him. I was startled and waiting to have these walls coated with bits of flesh, skin and blood. I closed my eyes; I instanly began humming 'You are my sunshine' in my head. My dad always sang this to me when I was having a bad day. God, how I wished he was here now.
"Boss, stop! I didn't mean it! I just-"
"No! Go on, Dice! KILL ME!!"
Dice threw the gun to the side and crumbled to the floor. He was in tears, as Oliver kicked his side and laughed.
"You pathetic excuse of a man. YOU have the nerve to talk 'bout ME and my demons. Look at ya'-nothing more than a sniveling, pathetic excuse. ONLY I have the ability to choose when I die. You Vampirse piss me that fook off..."
Before he left, he ordered Chad to clean the room and fix the hole. I chased after him, still humming the song in my head. Oliver turned to face me.
"And you..."
"Oliver! That was foolish and you didn't need to do that!"
"Didn't I? You all seem to forget WHO is in charge here, Penny. I do this because I CARE about you all...about my club and what this fookin' thing stands for. Sometimes, fear is the only thing we can all agree on, no?"
"You scared me...what if-what if he HAD pulled the trigger!?"
Oliver dug into jacket pocket, pulled out a cigar and lit it. The halls were soon consumed with smoke.
"Then another Fable would be erased in the books, huh? Or, so...I assume."
"WHAT?! That was supid, Oliver, no matter what you say!"
"Oh don't worry yourself, Penelope. I'm used to having my kindness betrayed by evil and those that do not trust me. I've been bitten by plenty of Vipers to know when I see one...."
"What? What are you-"
"You better get ready for dinner tonight. I overheard you saying its with your folks. Give your dad my blessings and well wished for me, okay?"
Oliver reached up, grabbed my face and kissed my lipes gently. "Now, be a good girl and do as you are told." He walked down the hall; he was still trying to walk, as a trail of smoke followed behind him. I passed by his room; Chad was furiously trying to fix the hole, as Dice continued to stand in the same spot he was earlier. His eyes were focused on the floor. He did not budge, as I continued to walk and into my room.
I again turned on the radio and threw myself on the bed. I'd get up and look for an outfit; perhaps take a shower, fix my hair and do my makeup. Fuck. Why did he have to do that to me? Scare me like that. I care...I care so much for him and I wish he would see that. I grabbed my iphone, typed in the password and found my saved voicemails. I began searching until I found the right one. I needed this; my nerves were all over the place.
'Hey sweetie. It's dad. I know you are busy...wish you'd answer your phone. Hate talking to this thing. Want to talk to my daughter. Hear your voice, not the machines...' God. He sounded devestated.
'Well, anyways. Your mom told me you were having a bad day. Thought maybe this would help-You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how mush I love. Please don't take my sunshine away. I love you, Penelope. Remember, no matter what you may do or think, I will always love you with every fiber of my being. Call me back. Love you.'
As I applied my makeup, that entire conversation was replayed. Remember, no matter what you may think or do, I will always love you with every fiber of my being. I began humming that song; my spirits slowly being lifted, each time I heard him and the song.
Penelope Porgie
Part 2
My sunshine
NOTE: Before I forget, someone asked me HOW I was to continue, since Georgie was killed off. Sim… moreple: he was brought back. By who, that is another story. Guess John knew all along the fate of his daughter. Junior's story, however, WILL be changed and I already have an idea on that situation. Hopefully the changes will be alright to everyone. Enjoy.
Dear Diary: God. He did it again. He's in the room right now sleeping. Going over to mom and dad's place later for dinner. I need to go. I don't want to. Peter will be there. I wish he wouldn't. It's for PORGIES only but I'm not there for him. I'm there because of dad. My anger for him still comes and go. I wish he would TALK but instead, he sits there with a smile like nothing is wrong in this world. Hopefully he is feeling better. Can't believe Emily. Well, no. I can. Fuck! I hear him calling me. Better go. Wish me luck. xoxo
"PENNY! PENELOPE!!!"
… [view original content]
I was wondering how you'd do that but it makes sense. Its happened before. I now can't wait to read Junior's story since you made the changes. I feel bad for Penny and here is why: she seems to hate her life because its what HER parents went through; that whole dancer and pimp thing. At the same time, though, she tries to put her life and their life aside. Another reason is her father. I'm guessing with his return, people are talking and bringing certain things up, which may or may not have influenced her thoughts.
Either way, hopefully she can figure it out and make things work. BTW you mentioned her powers-will you be bringing that into the 3rd section? The final part was sad and very touching. Good work like always, Georgie! More!!!
Penelope Porgie
Part 2
My sunshine
NOTE: Before I forget, someone asked me HOW I was to continue, since Georgie was killed off. Sim… moreple: he was brought back. By who, that is another story. Guess John knew all along the fate of his daughter. Junior's story, however, WILL be changed and I already have an idea on that situation. Hopefully the changes will be alright to everyone. Enjoy.
Dear Diary: God. He did it again. He's in the room right now sleeping. Going over to mom and dad's place later for dinner. I need to go. I don't want to. Peter will be there. I wish he wouldn't. It's for PORGIES only but I'm not there for him. I'm there because of dad. My anger for him still comes and go. I wish he would TALK but instead, he sits there with a smile like nothing is wrong in this world. Hopefully he is feeling better. Can't believe Emily. Well, no. I can. Fuck! I hear him calling me. Better go. Wish me luck. xoxo
"PENNY! PENELOPE!!!"
… [view original content]
All we had to do was, get this artifact from this museum and pay off Bluebeard's dept... for sparing me and brothers life. Something telling me there's a catch to this, but for now we need to find a way in the museum and nab the artifact. It was dark out and people were locking up, so we wait until everyone has gone home.
We made our way to the top of the museum. We scanned the inside of the museum and as we expected the alarms system is already active. Not many guards are around either. Sneaking in here will be a piece of cake.
Walter cuts the glass with his dagger, it cuts through the glass like butter and of course no ordinary blade could do that. Walter hands me the rope and I make my way down all gracefully. I felt like Ethan Hunt from that one movie.
Now im on the ground level. I use my sword to show me exactly where the alarm system is, I then scan the room for the artifact. It's right by a case containing a suit of armor. Getting there will be pretty tricky with all of these lasers surrounding me... so now is the time to put my abilities to the test.
I make my way through the lasers avoiding most them. I nearly set of one them when I got off balanced but i was good. After avoiding the last laser, i made it to the case where the artifact is held. I use Walter's dagger to cut open the case and try to remove the artifact but suddenly, the alarm and lasers are disabled and I get this cold and eerie feeling,
I am then attack by this shadow dog thing. It howls and then begins to circle me. I don't know what it is planning but I'm ready for anything that goes down next.
The shadow dog begins to speak to me, 'it tells me that I'm good at what I do' before turning back into a human. Wait... no way, It's Redd. How did he know I was here? Bluebeard... I knew there was something off about that bald fucker. But this still doesn't add up, Bluebeard could of killed me back at the Woodlands. Why would he send me here to let Redd do it? Unless...
"Bluebeard sent you here did he? Too bad, because i need that artifact. You see Robby, that work of art has is very special, if you touch it for a certain period of time you can unlock memories of your past. It only works for people like... us.
People like us? He meant fables or whatever. If what he is saying is true then this could answer some my questions. But this is my dept to Bluebeard...
You know what screw it, Redd and Bluebeard can go fuck themselves, neither are up to no good and I....
Suddenly, Redd attacks Robby in his shadow dog form attempting to kill him.
What the hell? What are you? Redd replied that he was regarded as the portent of death, and he haunted the lands of Britain with his apparition and he made it clear that he was leaving with this artifact.
As he attacked me again, I quickly grabbed the artifact and upon touching it i had a strange vision. I see my mother and the my father but wait... This isn't right this can't be, my father...my father is Robin Hood? How can this be...this can't be right...
Robby then falls unconscious triggering the alarms. Redd grabs the artifact and disappears. Walter quickly makes his way down the rope and tries to wake up Robby before the police arrives...
Chapter 6 The Museum
All we had to do was, get this artifact from this museum and pay off Bluebeard's dept... for sparing me and brothers… more life. Something telling me there's a catch to this, but for now we need to find a way in the museum and nab the artifact. It was dark out and people were locking up, so we wait until everyone has gone home.
We made our way to the top of the museum. We scanned the inside of the museum and as we expected the alarms system is already active. Not many guards are around either. Sneaking in here will be a piece of cake.
Walter cuts the glass with his dagger, it cuts through the glass like butter and of course no ordinary blade could do that. Walter hands me the rope and I make my way down all gracefully. I felt like Ethan Hunt from that one movie.
Now im on the ground level. I use my sword to show me exactly where the alarm system is, I then scan the room for the artifact. It's right by a case contai… [view original content]
It was an average night in Fabletown, torrential rain poured into the streets, pelting any unlucky souls caught up within the storm. A handful of Fables, however, had been lucky to have shelter within the run down bar. Two pool tables sat towards the front entrance, the floor beneath one of them dug into, by what had appeared to be it being pushed forcefully. A giant hole in the wall opposite of the table confirmed that something had shoved the table into the wall, probably a player that had been upset about the outcome of the match.
That, or it had been a bar brawl, Angus Douglas hadn't been sure when he walked in minutes before. Evidence of such an act certainly were present, namely the claw marks of someone being dragged across the floor, spanning the front door to the bar itself. Continuing his glance around the establishment, he shook his head in disgust as a splash of dried blood stuck out on the far wall, perpendicular to the bar.
"Hey, trash bag!" the woman from behind the bar grossed her arms, a small smirk curling on her lips. "You gonna order a drink, or continue playing the health inspector?"
The silver haired woman shrugged when he didn't respond, turning back to the gentleman sitting opposite of her. Angus watched as the man gently turned his head to the left, a milky white eye glancing at the newcomer grudgingly. Scoffing, the man ran a hand through his jet black hair, before focusing back on the beer mug in front of him.
Nodding towards the bar keep, Angus made his way to the bar, sitting on the far right off the man in the jet black hair. Slightly sneaking a peek at the new arrival, the man chuckled to himself before taking a sip of his beer. The woman approached him, as he turned to face her. Grabbing a spare mug, she began to wipe it with a white cloth, as she nodded towards him.
"Pick yer poison." she said bluntly. "Don't waste me or Gren's time."
"Whiskey on the rocks," he replied with a slight Scottish accent. "Best make it a double."
Replacing the mug back to where she had grabbed it, the woman instead grabbed a decently tall glass, and placed it before him. Pouring the amber liquid, she glanced at him, as she plunked a trio of ice cubes into the glass. Taking an experimental sip of the liquid, Amber sighed in relief, as it slowly burned down his throat.
"So," she asked. "I'm not usually one for small talk, but you look new around these parts."
Angus coughed as he accidentally swallowed some of the whiskey down his wind-pipe. Holding up a finger, he carefully removed a rag from the counter, and violently coughed into it for a moment, as she rolled her eyes. Recovering from his embarrassing moment, he chuckled.
"You're right, lassie, I'm not." he smiled. "I'm from a place in Scotland, a 'magical' land, if you can believe in it."
"So you're not a mundie then?" the woman poured him another glass. "For a Fable, you sure as hell don't act like it."
"Well, when I heard of Fabletown, I was told that it would be located in the Mundane world. Though, I'm blessed not having to buy those cursed Glamours. Foul things, those things, can cause you to be down right confused about who is who." Angus replied, taking another brave swig from his glass.
Turning on the stool, he glanced back into the bar. To his right, near the one called Gren, a dart board hung loosely off of a single nail, an otherwise giant hole was crudely repaired with planks of wood. Standing there, in the doorway, was a younger man in very trashy clothing, soaked from head to toe. Shaking his head at the poor soul, he turned back.
"I heard the Wolf was in town." the new arrival growled. "I got a bone to pick with that mutt."
"Well he ain't here," the woman snapped. "So get lost, deadbeat."
"I ain't going anywhere until someone tells me where I can find the mongrel." the man snarled.
"Boy, I must be pretty famous around these parts." a man replied, walking out of the back room with a pack of huff and puff cigarettes. "Who's callin' me a mongrel?"
"That loser by the door." Gren barked, finishing the last of his beer. "The lady asked you to leave asshole, an' unless you want the Big Bad Wolf to tear you apart, I would suggest you follow her advice."
"Calm down Gren." the man replied.
"You've done me wrong, Bigby Wolf!" the drenched man clenched his fists. "I traveled a great distance and time to get my revenge."
"Look, I wronged a lot of people back in the day." Bigby said, scratching the back of his head. "I'm reformed, I'm the Sheriff around these parts."
The drenched man grit his teeth as he walked slightly closer, Angus turning on his bar stool to watch. Taking the last sip of his drink, the Scotsman prepared himself, so the Big Bad Wolf of legend stood beside him? This would be an interesting fight.
"Look, whatever I've done to you in the past, I'm sorry." Bigby replied. "We don't need to cause any problems here."
"Bullshit, does the name Peter Wendlendt mean anything to you?"
"Not that I can recall."
"Do you recall the boy that cried wolf?!" Peter cracked his neck. "Because of you, I lost the trust of ALL of my family, my parents lost their prized sheep, and you even ATE me!"
"I ate a lot of people back in the day." Bigby countered. "Hell, one of them is my best friend, and I blew the asshole's house down on top of eating him. Besides, if I recall your Fable, you liked to be a spoiled little shithead and play tricks on the village. I think my actions were a suitable punishment. Besides, speak of the devil, and he shall appear."
Approaching Bigby, Peter swung his fist in a wide jab, attempting to strike the Sheriff in the jaw. Expertly dodging backwards, Bigby growled as he pounced the man to the floor, his clawed fingers grabbing the boy's throat. Peter struggled for breath, before he tapped on Bigby's arm. The Sheriff released his grip on the man, as Peter reached into his pocket for something. Smacking his arm away, Bigby grabbed his foe by the back of his neck, and tossed him out the front door of the Trip Trap.
"We're gonna take this outside." Bigby snarled towards Holly. "Don't want to wreck your store."
"You mean more than you already have?" the woman replied with a sarcastic grin. "Kick his ass Wolf."
Angus shook his head, disappointed that the battle hadn't been much more than a brief one sided fist fight. He wasn't much of a fighter himself, but boy did he enjoy watching others brawl it out. Turning back once more, he offered for his wallet, paying her the necessary charge for his beverage.
Preparing to stand, Angus stopped, before glancing back at her once more.
"I'm sorry, where are my manners. I never asked for your name?" Angus asked, as the woman scoffed.
"What a gentleman." she growled. "I'm not particularly fond of gentlemen. But it's Holly. Welcome to Fabletown."
Chapter 6 The Museum
All we had to do was, get this artifact from this museum and pay off Bluebeard's dept... for sparing me and brothers… more life. Something telling me there's a catch to this, but for now we need to find a way in the museum and nab the artifact. It was dark out and people were locking up, so we wait until everyone has gone home.
We made our way to the top of the museum. We scanned the inside of the museum and as we expected the alarms system is already active. Not many guards are around either. Sneaking in here will be a piece of cake.
Walter cuts the glass with his dagger, it cuts through the glass like butter and of course no ordinary blade could do that. Walter hands me the rope and I make my way down all gracefully. I felt like Ethan Hunt from that one movie.
Now im on the ground level. I use my sword to show me exactly where the alarm system is, I then scan the room for the artifact. It's right by a case contai… [view original content]
Chapter 1: New in Fabletown
Trip Trap Bar
Three nights after the events of TWAU
It was an average night in Fabletown, torrential ra… morein poured into the streets, pelting any unlucky souls caught up within the storm. A handful of Fables, however, had been lucky to have shelter within the run down bar. Two pool tables sat towards the front entrance, the floor beneath one of them dug into, by what had appeared to be it being pushed forcefully. A giant hole in the wall opposite of the table confirmed that something had shoved the table into the wall, probably a player that had been upset about the outcome of the match.
That, or it had been a bar brawl, Angus Douglas hadn't been sure when he walked in minutes before. Evidence of such an act certainly were present, namely the claw marks of someone being dragged across the floor, spanning the front door to the bar itself. Continuing his glance around the establishment, he shook his head in … [view original content]
It's finished! It's finally finished! I have spent far too long on writing this, considering it was supposed to be a short summer challenge. Plus, it's over a week late, though that doesn't seem quite so bad if you consider that I still haven't finished the first story I started writing over three months ago. Anyway, it ends rather abruptly because I realized that it could easily go on longer, and I wanted to call it a day. I do hope, however, that if you manage to read all of it or only part of it, you get some enjoyment out of it. Or entertainment. Basically, something positive. I haven't had chance to read the recent stories on here, so I will catch up with those next; if you'd like to catch up on this story, check out pages 23, 25, and 27 for the other parts. Basically, Colin and Bufkin have been kidnapped while with Rose Red, Jack Horner, and Mr Weasel in Cambodia, and DragonButter's Tezoth has turned up. This is in a few parts - perhaps take it a bit at a time; and, finally, today is my birthday so thanks for reading something I began in another age.
Tezoth, the dragon and accomplished thief, pulls up a chair opposite the sofa Rose Red, Jack Horner, and Mr Weasel sit on; and by doing so, sets into motion the final part of this tale, as well as some spontaneous string-based background music.
"What the hell are you sitting down for?" Asks Rose, shocked. "Come here and give me a hug!" Standing up with arms open, Rose quite clearly isn't going to move until Tezoth reciprocates, which he does with vigor, for the two are good friends. Jack, still sore after the confrontation during the previous day in which he revealed his true feelings for Rose, turns his head away from the two with a look of irritation. He needn't be affronted by the action though, as the relationship between the embracing two is purely platonic.
After Rose and Tezoth have returned to their seats, grinning wildly, Weasel looks to Rose and comments on whether or not, "you're going to introduce us?"
Rose appears surprised. "You two haven't met?"
"Not properly. I'm quite sure I'd remember those eyes if we had - no offence." He turns to Tezoth for the last part.
"None taken," Tezoth replies. "Some glamours can't seem to change them, hence the glasses. Normally, I'm little more scaly."
"You're a lizard?"
"Something like that." There's a grin back on Tezoth's face.
"These?" Tezoth takes them off and inspects the aviators with an exaggerated expression of contemplative inspection, before sliding them back on. "Why yes, I believe they are," he replies cooly.
"And just how did you come by them?" There is a forceful tone in Jack's question. Being careful to keep them close since Bufkin had absconded with them - though he realises that he hasn't worn the pair for a day due to the weather - Jack is rather more than irritated that they should have been taken again.
"They were practically hanging out of your back-pack when you were checking in yesterday; arguably, I've done you a favour, as they're a rather nice pair to have smashed on the floor."
"We never saw you!" Rose is surprised once more, and not for the last time.
"You don't become a master thief by being spotted now, do you?" Tezoth flashes what can only be described as a winning smile back at her. This sends Jack into a deeper gloom, where only those wielding a torch harnessing the power of a million candles should dare tread.
"Back to the introductions," says Mr Weasel, for he is a man who values such formalities, "I'm Mister Weasel." He sticks his hand out, expecting it to be shook. It is.
"And I'm Tezoth. Mister Weasel your full name?"
"No, though I generally avoid using my full name. Just 'Weasel' will do." Tezoth shrugs in acceptance.
"It was you," Weasel quickly carries on," who got Bufkin to steal Jack's sunglasses, wasn't it?"
"That's a wild accusation."
"And yet I saw you in our restaurant back at the floating lodges, so I'm not so sure that it is."
"Weasels really are sharp, aren't they. I didn't tell him to steal them, though I did mention that he might try using them to woo the female monkeys. Sort of meant as a joke, to be honest, yet he seemed quite excited by the suggestion."
"He did look good in them," remarks Rose. "For a monkey," she quickly adds.
Jack looks at Tezoth sharply. "How damn long have you been following us!?"
"You seem rather annoyed about something, Jack," Tezoth calmly replies. "I took an interest in your trip since you first met about it in the diner."
This time it is not just Rose who looks surprised, but Weasel and Jack also.
"Oh come on," says Rose. "I definitely would've seen you that time!"
"I was in the back," Tezoth explains. "Bufkin came in asking for an atlas and I helped him find a globe instead. Afterwards, he told me what you were planning."
"Why were you in the back?" Wonders Weasel.
"Not that long ago I was in a diner where the staff were - let's just say - a little unfriendly; so I like to check who's behind the counter these days."
There's a struggle of comprehension for the three Tezoth relates this to, despite anyone being able to learn of those events.
"Why did you follow us to Tatai? Why not come with us instead of being so clandestine? How is it you're now in Siem Reap? How come--" Weasel is cut short in his extensive questioning by Tezoth interrupting.
"Stop a minute! You've got questions, I understand, there's a lot I probably should explain. We don't have time for it right now, though. I know, more or less, where Colin and Bufkin are, and we need to rescue them. I will answer you're questions at some point."
The entreaty is an honest one, and it shakes Rose, Jack, and Weasel out of their various states of reaction to Tezoth, whether it be surprise, puzzlement, or despondency.
"Go ahead, Tezoth," says Rose. "We're listening." They are.
"Right," Tezoth begins. "I wrote the note telling you to come -" Mr Weasel opens his mouth to ask a question, making Tezoth quickly carry on "- because I saw Bufkin and Colin being taken and couldn't think of a faster way to get you all here." Mr Weasel, ever the irritatingly inquisitive sort, makes a motion to issue another question, causing Tezoth's speaking rate to increase another notch. "I knew that here was to be this villa becauseyou discussed it at the diner and as I've said Bufkin told me. Anyway, being outnumbered, I had no hope of taking the kidnappers on with this gangly-mess of a body; I'm not yet used this human form again." Mr Weasel slowly raises his hand after Tezoth takes a pause for breath. "And yes,that's why I was sticking my legs out in the restaurant that night. I don't like folding my legs much - I'm used to them being bigger." The dragon looks down at those limbs of his and eyes them with uncertainty. As he tilts his head back up, he notes that something causing irritation appears to have dawned on Mr Weasel, for he seems set to interrupt once more. Tezoth is quicker again, however. "And yes! I have been stealing your glamours! Would you just let me finish, Weasel?!"
Mr Weasel is pleased his suspicions proved accurate and that he had managed to deduce who had be taking his glamours. On the other hand, he felt rather admonished for his questioning, and decide to keep quiet. For the time being.
"Now where was I?" Asks Tezoth.
"Somewhere around the part of saying you've been stalking us for days!" Snaps Jack.
"Really? I thought I'd moved on from that," Tezoth responds, while Rose gives Jack a sharp look. "Right, Bufkin and Colin. They were taken by Fables. Sure, they looked like Mundies, but you can sense another Fable and these five definitely were."
"Fables? What the fuck's going on?" Rose summed up succinctly what Weasel - and even Jack - were thinking. WTF indeed.
Tezoth went on to explain how he'd been walking along the wooden walkway that connects the tent-lodges of the 4 Rivers Floating Lodge site, going towards the tent-lodges that the five were staying in, when he heard a pig squeal. Quickening his pace, he saw six silhouettes appear from a tent, one carrying a small cage and two pulling something heavy behind them. Sensing that things were far from hunky-dory, he had nipped behind the side of a lodge, waiting for them to walk past; however they didn't. A minute later, he heard an outboard motor firing up. Rushing to the end of the walkway, the setting sun shone on the white side of a boat as it sped down the glistening river.
Going straight into the tent from which the six had come and finding it empty of life, he spied a note on a dresser explaining that the monkey and the pig had been taken to the 'Land of the Temples'. In addition, and rather oddly, Tezoth considered, the note also advised against worrying.
"Of course, I couldn't just leave things like that," Tezoth tells the three that have thus far been hooked on his every word. "So I wrote that note for you, as I figured that 'Land of the Temples' had to mean somewhere around here, and then I grabbed my things in a hurry flew after them."
It is Rose this time who has a question. "Why did you make the note so hard to read? It was a pain to decipher.!
"Sorry about that. It's the whole human form thing - writing in a hurry can be a bit tricky."
While the two discussed this, Weasel suddenly understands something. "You're a dragon!"
"Yes, I am," is the truthful reply.
"Huh. Fancy that," is all Weasel can make of it.
"Anyway," continues Tezoth, "I followed them through here, and carried on flying north for a little while, tracking them driving the same pick up truck they'd used since leaving the river. When they hit the jungle things got sketchy, and I didn't want to risk getting closer in case I was spotted."
Mr Weasel, sensing an opportunity to be of use, comments confidently that he'll go and get a map in order for all to clearly see where the kidnappers went.
"Sure," comes the dragon's reply.
While Mr Weasel visits the front desk, which is visible from where the others sit due to open doors, Rose and Tezoth chat a little.
"What are you really doing here, Tez?" Asks Rose.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you've been following us, yet keeping you're distance. It's hardly a coincidence you're in Cambodia if you overheard us talking about it, so why come?"
"Why, I was simply enchanted by the scent of a Rose." A cheeky smiles graces the thief's face, as he attempts to steer the conversation in another direction, despite having no destination in mind.
Jack, unable to stay under a figurative rain cloud much longer, closes his umbrella and shakes it over everyone else. "Do you have to keep doing that?" He directs this at Tezoth.
"Doing what?" The dragon is a touch confused.
"The whole flirting thing! With the smile -" here he mimics a painful fake "- the winks -" here, exaggerates an eye movement that even a blind-drunk baboon could get the gist of, "- and the whole 'ooh, scent of a rose'!" After this last comment, he wrinkles a corner of his nose and pulls a face at Tezoth. "Just change the record, already."
By a matching up of events that enables two similar things to be connected - or 'coincidence' - one of the managers of the villa walks past the lounge at the same moment, and overhears Jack's last comment. Fearing dissatisfaction from one of the guests, he hurries to a small room adjacent to the lounge, and commences in a frantic discussion.
A sudden break occurs in the background music, while Rose speaks angrily to Jack.
"We're friends, Jack. Good friends; he isn't flirting. That is flirting," and she points over to the desk Mr Weasel headed to in the procurement of a map. Due to the pause in music, he can be heard remarking to the woman behind the counter, - the same lady who served him with excellent advise and a drink the night before - on a fine choice of pen; the type with which one writes.
"Say," (he's trying to be oh-so-smooth in his seduction), "is that a a biro or a ball point?" He can bee seen to use it. "Oh my, it's a gel ah-ha-ha-ha." Attempting something reminiscent of a charming Prince's beguiling laugh he falls short; which would also suffice as a description of his whole attempt in general.
Background music begins again, this time led by the dulcet tones of a piano.
"Admittedly, it's a bad example," finishes Rose.
Tezoth feels some assurance should be given from his side. "Honestly, Jack, there's nothing going on between us."
"Really?" Confusion, and yet hope, for the giant-slayer.
"Really!" Confirms Rose. "So stop being such a dick."
"I... Yeah. Sorry." Jack, understandably ashamed, goes a hint of red and falls to silence; though this silence is a more agreeable sort than his last.
Mr Weasel now makes his way back to the sofa, a map in hand.
"So," Tezoth begins, looking at Weasel, "how did the pen work out?"
Mr Weasel appears momentarily puzzled as he'd quickly tried to put that brief conversation out of his mind, and sits down.
"Oh. Yeah. Turned out it was one of those pencils that looks like a pen." He looks downhearted. "Always thought those things were stupid," he adds.
"Maybe next time," Tezoth consoles, and he takes the map Weasel offers him.
Unfolding it, for the map covers a wide, contoured area and is normally condensed for ease, Tezoth finds their current location, points out the nearby Angkor Wat temples site, and then moves his finger some three centimeters along to an area designated as thick, forest hills and mountains.
"Couldn't they have picked an easier place to have a hideout?" Jack inquires, back to his usual cheery self.
"You're right Jack," answers Weasel, "it's bloody inconsiderate of them."
"Well, if we meet them, we can let them know," comes Tezoth's response.
"If we meet them," strikes up Rose, "I plan on clobbering them over the head with the nearest blunt object, and then making them suffer for what they've done." There was a light in her eyes that showed she was capable of more than just empty threats, and the three men present decided, not through words but via an innate understanding, that they should never personally cross her.
"I'm sure that's something we'll keep in mind, Rose," acknowledges the dragon with due respect. "Back to the map, it looks like we can make our way through these temples, over the fields, and into the jungle. Shouldn't more than a few hours walk."
"Can't we just, erm, fly on your back?" Asks Weasel. The reply of furrowed eyebrows and a shaking head gives an easy-to-understand response.
"Besides," comments Tezoth, "it'd be too cold for you at the height I'd have to fly to avoid being noticed."
"A walk it is then," Jack sums up.
"Best get ready for the jungle." Rose isn't entirely enthusiastic about the prospect, though she's still as determined as ever to rescue Colin and Bufkin.
"How will we find them once we're there? The place is huge." This is a good question from Jack.
Cryptically, Rose answers by simly saying, "Leave that to me;" and won't be persuaded to expand upon what that could mean.
"There's something I need to mention before we go," Weasel says with a hint of solemness. "Depending on how things go today, I'm not sure that I'll have enough glamours to make the trip back to New York."
"Unfortunately, Weasel, I have that same problem," replies Tezoth.
"Why didn't you bring any with you instead of stealing mine?"
"I did bring some with me! I lost them when I first went to the Lodges."
"Lost them?"
"Well, I was going along the river on an old boat, and I asked the pilot if we could stop near the riverbank for a moment, because I wanted to get an idea of just how dense the forest was. I'm gazing into the tangle of trees when suddenly a damn monkey launches this huge stick at me! Took me completely by surprise, making me stumble, and I somehow dropped the bag I had my glamours in over the side and into the river. The monkey wouldn't stop throwing bits of wood, so we quickly moved on and I guess they sunk to the bottom."
"You know," says Weasel, "I think I've met that very same monkey." Without realising it, both Tezoth and Weasel are now rubbing the parts of their head that were targeted by that deft-shot simian.
Jack's attention is not on the macaque, however, but on the glamours. "Can fish glamour?"
"I'm not sure," Rose answers. "There's gonna be some weird fish-people if they can."
While that image swims about in Jack's mind, Rose points out the important fact that Weasel will have to give his remaining glamours to Tezoth.
"What? Why?" He's rather possessive of the tubes.
"Because," explains Rose, "he can't help much if he's in perma-dragon mode."
"You could fly around though." True enough, from the Weasel.
"Not forever," Tezoth replies. "I'll have to land at some point. I'm sorry to have to take them Weasel." Despite being a thief, and a cunning one at that, the dragon is capable of genuine sympathy, such as in this case. All Fables who rely on glamours in order to live outside a very confined existence understand the desperate prospect of being stuck without one.
Mr Weasel does not like the situation, though he can see the validity in what's being said. "Fine." He sounds rather glum, and appears to have taken up a mood similar to Jack's previous. "Just do me a favour and let me go in one of your back-packs - I don't want to end up eaten by a tiger." Nor did he wish to be left behind at the villa.
"Or worse," remarks Jack, "sucked to death by one of those sticky plants." He pulls a face far worse than those he'd done not long since.
"Let's go and get ready then," says Rose.
"Sounds good to me," Jack comments, (and the comment sounded good to the manager who'd been standing on the other side of the open door, hoping his selection of music would prove to be preferable.)
"The game is on," rallies Tezoth, and they all march out of the room. Three march, at least; one seems unwilling to accept what he's got to do and lingers for a moment, before wandering back to his room.
Standing outside of Mr Weasel's room, Rose Red, Tezoth, and Jack are all set for the journey ahead. Though in different colours and styles, they all wear boots, shorts and t-shirts; while Jack and Rose wear hats that would look out-of-place anywhere other than the jungle - except the desert - and Tezoth wears a brown fedora made of wool, with an authentic pinch at the front. Having a rucksack each, they carry plenty of water, as well as food, a pair of socks (because who can abide soggy feet?) and general miscellany, such as a camera, or a collapsible spade.
"Okay, Weasel," calls Rose. "You can come out now."
The wooden door in front of them, which had only been opened a hair's breadth, slowly swings back, and before them on the dark floor stands nothing more, or less, than a weasel. With dark brown fur all over, except a tan streak down his underside, a dark patch around his right eye, and a black tip at his tail, the black-eyed and curved-eared appearance is a substantial change for Mr Weasel.
Rose has never seen Weasel in his natural form, and responds with an "Oh my!"
Tezoth hasn't seen much of Mr Weasel in any form, and so isn't particularly altered by the weasel in front of him.
Jack, meanwhile, could try harder to suppress a laugh.
The weasel looks at him irritably. "Don't say a word, Jack. Not. A damn. Word."
Jack doesn't say a word, though he carries on his guffawing behind a concealing hand.
"Who's carrying me then?" In tone, Mr Weasel could pass for a certain donkey by the way he says this.
"I suppose I should, seeing as you're partly stuck that way because of me." Tezoth slides his bag off and it hits the ground with a thunk. He unzips the main compartment and opens it wide for Weasel to get in.
While entering and making himself as comfortable as possible inside the cramped back-pack, Weasel asks if Tezoth be keeping the other glamours safe. Tezoth replies he is. Weasel then asks why Tezoth should have a collapsible spade is his back-pack, and Tezoth replies that Mr Weasel should be grateful there isn't a pickaxe in there too, otherwise his furry self might not fit.
"Best be going then." Weasel says without vigor.
"Oh, cheer up." This is more than a little rich coming from Jack, who carries on saying, "you're getting a free ride, you know."
A breeze wafts through the city of Siem Reap, preventing clouds from lingering and citizens from over-heating. A sky of blue and puffs of white cloud raise the spirits of the rescuers making their way to Angkor Wat via rickshaw.
Arriving at the temple at an unassuming car park, they begin strolling along a tree lined path. The usual accompaniment of birdsong entertains them, after which the marvels of the temples momentarily dwarf all other thoughts. Made of a dark stone, most of the structures stretch to a modest, domed height, enticing awe by another means than simple size. Carved into the fabric of their making, the edifices stare back with eyes, grow out of the stone with noses and smiling faces. Above gateways, guardians that shall forever watch over the paths so long as they remain stand, allowing passage. Trees grow on top of their own stone plinths, roots draping over the rock as hair might on a shoulder.
As they keep walking past structures built anything up to nine hundred years ago, a view of the main temple is snatched through intertwined branches, causing them to quicken pace to a clearing on the path. Here, the spectacle of magnificent stone pinnacles with curved and rounded columns, stands as it has done for centuries, surrounded by a glistening lake of water; it reflects the sun as a diamond necklace would, catching the light and radiating a purity.
If the reason for the visit here had been a part of the planned holiday, they would have wandered for hours; instead, the can only afford to spare minutes.
While taking photos for Mr Weasel, Rose - ever on the look out for anything that could improve their quest - spots bicycles for rent further down the path. Most of the temples in the area are linked via paths and tracks, so they each take a bike and begin peddling. The transport is not stealthy as they pick a way along the dried parts of the tree-lined passage, with squeaks and clicks aplenty. It being far quicker than walking, however, they're soon past the grey-mottled stones of Angkor Thom; away from the enchanting temple microcosm; and whizzing by grassy flatlands in which houses are dotted, as if dropped from the sky, or moving over bridges where water gurgles below. There are villages along the way, where tarmac gives the gift of a smooth ride, before the wheels become bouncy again along the less used routes.
Weasel, planning on enjoying what benefits he can from being in his natural state, pokes his head out of Tezoth's rucksack for much of the journey, allowing his fur to be ruffled by the breeze, and recovering from the stuffy climate of the bag. At times his tongue lolls out; and though he wouldn't appreciate such a comparison, the thought of a dog with it's head out of a car window does spring to mind.
Rose, Tezoth, and Jack chat about past times, plans for future times, and know that despite the cause for their current trip, they are enjoying themselves.
After an hour, they can see their target of the speckled-green forested hills and mountains, and after thirty minutes, they are within them.
All four travellers take a brief respite under the shade of a clump of trees, looking out over a land colored with the richness of life. Before setting out on foot once more, they discuss what, exactly, they're going to do next.
"So what's you're plan?" Weasel asks Rose, having in mind her comment back at the villa.
"Did the truck enter the forest around here?" Rose asks Tezoth, between mouthfuls of banana.
"More or less," answers the dragon.
"Then I'm going to track them."
Eyebrows are raised in response to this remark.
"Track them?" Inquires Jack.
"Yeah. You know, footprints and stuff. There's more to me than meets the eye, Jacky-boy," she gives him a wink.
Jack groans, "Please don't start talking like Bigby." The others chuckle in response.
"Anyway," Rose carries on, "give me a few minutes and I'll find them." She stands up, walks a little further down the track, scanning around with her eyes, and then enters the forest.
"Seriously," says Jack to Tezoth and Weasel, when Rose is out of ear-shot. "Does anyone know how come she can track?"
"Can't say as I do," answers Weasel.
"She's a woman of mystery," comments Tezoth.
They look at each other, and nod in agreement.
Rose inspects the leafy floor; the browns, yellows and greens transforming it into a mesmerizing confusion. She eyes marks and prints that all but those in the know would pass by, without even realizing the signs of another already having passed the same way. The heavy rain of the day before has flattened the mud out in places, however she is Rose Red, and Rose Red is a woman not easily perturbed.
She follows what looks to be boot-prints along a wide gap between the trees tangled in vines. Exotic and rare flowers grow through the moist earth, and battle for supremacy with the neighbours that surround them.
Following the trail for less than a minute, Rose finds a small thread of red cotton caught on a sharp branch, just below her neck. Though there is no evidence other than the trail and the thread, Rose is confident enough that this could be a promising lead, and she heads back to the others.
Tezoth and Mr Weasel listen to one of Jack's myriad anecdotes as Rose returns.
"So, I says to Mabel, I says -- oh, hey Rose!"
She raises her hand to Jack in acknowledgment. "Weasel, I need your nose."
The weasel in questions rises from his lounging position on the soft grass. "My nose?"
"Yeah. I've found and trail and I thought you might be able to smell Colin or Bufkin's scent. 'Cause weasels do that sort of thing."
"Okay. I'll give it a go."
In case it turns out to be the correct path for them, Jack and Tezoth decide to come too. Imagine, if you will, the sight of a single-file procession, at the front of which is a woman with blazing red hair - visible as she's taken her hat off - followed by a weasel; followed by a man resembling an adventuring archeologist; in turn followed by a man with blonde hair flowing down to his shoulders. It is not a sight of regularity.
Mr Weasel's nose proves reliable, as he detects the aroma of Colin and Bufkin that only a sensitive nose can do in a jungle. Afterwards, he hops back into Tezoth's back-pack. Rose leads them along the track she detects, stopping periodically to make sure they have not deviated, before continuing again. The climate inside the forest is, at first, the same as the others they have visited while in Cambodia: hot, humid, damp, noisy, and muddy. Teeming with life, also, and being so intense as to make one forget the rest of the world exists. As they travel further in, and higher up, these conditions become more acute, until they can hear nothing but wildlife calling, and the air seers like steam. It attains a pinnacle as they reach a ten foot high white rock face; they have to shout in order to be heard.
Jack looks around nervously. "What's happening?!"
"This doesn't feel natural!" Tezoth calls back.
"We have to keep going! They went this way, I know it!" Declares Rose. "Weasel, can you climb the rocks and see what's over them?"
Tezoth turns around so Weasel and Rose can communicate better. "I can give it a try," he pants.
Taking a glug of warm water from the bottle he's kept in the bag with him, he's helped on his way by Tezoth, who - when asked to - throws him onto a ledge. Being highly selective in his route, Weasel is slow yet sure in his ascent. He kicks furiously with his back legs upon reaching the top, in order to get over.
And when he's over, what a difference in atmosphere. Silence. A slight drop in temperature, making the air feel much less hostile; trees are adorned with flowers colored in hues that seem to vary in range more than a rainbow. It's as if he's stepped into another world. Looking back over the rock face, he can see his friends suffering in the dissonance and heat below, fingers in ears or fanning madly with a magazine.
"Hey!" Weasel calls down, yet they cannot hear him. "HEY!" He tries again, with as much success as before. To his right are some loose pebbles, which he knocks down with his paw; three land next to the trio below without them noticing. It is only the fourth, which took a slightly different way down to it's stone-y brethren, landing on Tezoth's head, that receives attention.
The dragon looks up, unhappy at having his focus brought about in such a manner. Weasel merely waves a paw, beckoning Tezoth and the others up. After five minutes, and taking in cuts, scrapes, and bruises, all are at the top and silent for a time that feels much longer than it is.
"This is... weird," says Tezoth.
"Nice though," replies Jack. "Much nicer than down there at least."
Rose quickly breaks out of her peaceful trance, and studies the ground. "They definitely came this way; here's a footprint." And sure enough, the unmistakable grooved impression of a boot was visible in the moist mud.
"They went that-a way," and she nods straight forward. All stare in that direction, half expecting a revealing rustle in the leaves or branches, alerting them to the kidnappers' presence. There is none, of course.
Weasel gets back into Tezoth's bag once more, and they all walk with care along the route Rose dictates. The silence which at first inspired soothing in their minds now weighs down on their thoughts; it's preternatural quality unnerving. The plant life seems unusual also - polka-dots of red, green, blue, and many more decorate petals the shape of fleur-de-lis and stars, while stems pulsate with neon color. At first, the trees seem similar to those native of the country, yet watching one for longer than a few seconds reveals the branches to be actively moving - wrapping, twisting and swaying, without any influence from the wind.
Tezoth, who is about to comment on the fragrant smell is stopped short. Jack, wondering whether or not to pick a flower for Rose, is brought out of his considerations abruptly. Rose, sure she has found pig tracks, has her attention snatched away. Weasel, rummaging through Tezoth's bag out of curiosity, suddenly sticks his head out of it's top, ears pricked.
A dull thud caused these breaks in the activities of the four. Two seconds later, another can be heard. The ground shakes; the branches quiver and go stiff. The air is still; there is nothing other than the thud.
Until a voice, deep and resonating, rings out through the forest. "Fee. Fi. Fo. Fum!"
Jack recognizes this phrase instantly. "Uh-oh."
"I smell the blood of a Fable-man." The breath is caught in the throats of the rescuers; the suspense exacerbated by a pause in the thuds and the voice, before it cries. "And a dragon! Buw-whar-um." This last part was more a single noise than group of words, and sounded like a throaty manifestation of the voice's - or rather, the creature who's voice it is - displeasure.
The thud recommences. Jack, for the most part realising what is coming their way, shouts at Tezoth and Rose. "Fly you fools! Run!"
"But, Jack --" starts Rose.
"Go!" It was out of the ordinary that Jack Horner should ostensibly volunteer to be left behind in the face of an unknown danger so readily, yet this is what he was doing.
Observing a surprising confidence in Jack's demand, Tezoth with Weasel and Rose - not without hesitation - dive into the forest to their left. Seconds later, and still running, they glance back to see Jack standing face to face with a very large, and very wooden, giant.
Rose and Tezoth, with Weasel in his bag, keeping running for ten minutes before they dare stop in a thicket; and, puffing, talk.
"What the hell was that thing?" Asks Tezoth.
"I think it was a giant." Says Rose. "A proper giant, not just a random tall person."
"I feel very small," is all Weasel says.
"What about Jack?" Rose sounds worried.
"He's the giant-slayer, I'm sure he'll be fine." Tezoth doesn't actually sound so sure of this, however.
"I guess. We should keep moving, right? Keep looking for Colin and Bufkin?"
"I think so. I mean, yes! It's why we're here, and I think that giant confirms that here is where we need to be." Bold and authoritative when needed is the dragon thief. "The trees don't seem so thick over there; we might be able to see where we are." The spot to which he refers would be but a few moments away as the crow flies, or even as a dragon flies; however in the thick jungle it takes much longer, and things aren't helped by the branches that stroke them.
After a while, Mr Weasel decides that light conversation may help keep things going - for Rose and Jack are having a tricky time in moving forward - and so he instigates it.
"Tezoth," he begins, poking his head out of a gap in the dragon's back-pack, "why do you have a stick of dynamite in your bag?"
Obviously, this caught Rose's attention. "Dynamite? Are you sure, Weasel?" Tezoth remains silent for now and keeps on forcing his way onwards.
"I am, Rose." Weasel replies. "I've been rummaging around in here for a while now, and not long ago I came across a sock right at the bottom; the scent of it was different to any other socks I've smelt. Having my curiosity piqued, I pulled at it, and, bringing it into the light, noted the telltale red and shape of dynamite." Weasel says this with a peculiar calmness, considering he's been sitting on top of it.
"Why do you have a stick of dynamite, Tezoth?" Asks Rose, this time.
"Did I say you could go 'rummaging' in there, Weasel?" Is his first response.
"Well, you never said not to. I felt I should become acquainted with my mode of transport."
"I'm more than just a mode of transport, thanks."
"I didn't mean it like that!"
There's no speaking as Rose and Tezoth clamber over a fallen tree and walk along thick branches, as the ground level is too overgrown to pass through.
"The reason I have dynamite," explains Tezoth while he and Rose jump to the ground and move on, "is in case of emergencies."
"Hmm," considers Mr Weasel. "I don't think I'd like to become familiar with those emergencies."
For Rose, her wild-streak shines through, saying that, "You never know, Weasel. It might be quite fun." She gives him a wink. Mr Weasel finds it unnerving; Tezoth finds in encouraging.
Hearing no more giant related noise, they press on and eventually reach a spot with less plant density, and can see their surroundings. It isn't what they expected. The forest they have gone through is atop a high rim; in front of them is a fair drop to a valley, and in it a large lake shimmers. The sun has begun to set, and looks set to be perfectly framed when it reaches the horizon by the two mountains at the other end of the valley. Looking to their right, they can see plateaus going up the slope, which would have enabled the giant to reach them earlier. The nearest plateau to the rim seems around one hundred feet below it, which isn't very near at all; the giant, therefore, must live up to it's name.
The sight is amazing, and daunting.
"Next time," speaks up Rose, "we're going to Cuba and staying on a beach. Agreed?" The other two agree.
Tezoth gazes thoughtfully at the lake. "I'd bet money on that being where we need to go. Seems significant, don't you think?"
"I'd say so," assents Rose.
"I can't actually see anything," comes a quiet voice from Tezoth's back. Mr Weasel, you see, had not yet recovered from the thought of being squashed by a brute of a giant.
Tezoth takes his rucksack off and plants it on the floor. "Come on Weasel!" He says. "What would Bigby say if he saw you now?"
"Why does everything always come back to him?" Asks Mr Weasel.
"I dunno," says Rose. "It just does."
As the sun begins to set on the land we call Cambodia, dear reader, so does this tale arc towards it's end. Before the sun rises again, events will be almost entirely over.
Things go smoothly on the descent down the valley side, until they reach one of the plateaus. As is hopefully shown, the place Tezoth, Rose, Weasel walk through is touched with things not originally from our Mundy world, and so the unexpected was to be expected.
Stumbling over a hidden log, Rose collides into Tezoth, and the pair - with Weasel caught in the middle - tumble down the leafy slope, landing with speed into a clearing. Being of a low angle, the orange sunlight cuts horizontally through the trees, and shadows rise around them.
Rose gets to her feet, helping Tezoth up afterwards. She quickly looks into his dark back-pack. "Weasel, are you okay?"
A black, tufted tail curls out in response, telling her that the weasel is upside down. Then there's a muffled reply. "I'm real peachy, thanks, Rose. Yourselves?"
"I'm fine. Are you, Tez?"
Tezoth winces as Weasel manoeuvres himself. "I landed funny on my shoulder."
"Shall I carry Weasel for a while?" Asks Rose.
"Please."
"Come on, Weasel. In you get." She lowers her bag as Tezoth does the same with his, and Mr Weasel sets about making himself comfortable in the orange rucksack.
"Thanks," he replies.
A rhinoceros, at the edge of the clearing and in the shade, has been watching while this transpires. Mundies do not normally make it into this part of the world; these look similar to Mundies, yet there is something different about them. Coming to the conclusion that their presence needs to be investigated, it announces as such and begins coming over.
In the dimming light, the loud grunt of a wild rhino, which proceeds to come towards one, can induce anxiety. This occasion was no exception in that regard, and as the rhino quickened pace, - in order to stop the people from escaping before it had time to question them - to Rose and Tezoth and Weasel, the creature appeared to be charging at them.
"Run!" A verb shouted by all three at once, and they sprint towards the woods.
"I don't wish to alarm you," Weasel shouts from Rose's back-pack, over the snapping of branches and the heavy stamping of feet, "however, the rhinoceros is getting closer... closer still... . It's quite close now!"
Rose points, while moving with great speed. "Head into the forest, Tezoth! We might be able to lose it in there"
"I'm not sure that'll stop it!" After saying this, Weasel bobs ever lower in Rose's bag.
They sprint into the forest; faces get slapped by thick leaves, arms cut by thrusting branches, and legs stumble on grasping roots. The rhino soon enters after them, decreasing in energy as it has to smash through the surroundings.
"I have an idea!" Yells Tezoth. "Weasel, there are some caltrops in my back-pack!"
"Cat drops?" Replies Mr Weasel, rising a little to be heard. "I don't think rhinos like cat food!"
"Not cat drops, you deaf ferret! Caltrops! Those spiky things."
"How dare you! I, Percival Mintwood Weasel, am no common ferret!"
"That's you're name?!"
Rose, being aware of the urgency their situation demands, yells that now is not the time for that conversation.
Tezoth leans in a little closer, while the rhino still ploughs forward, the thick vegetation the barrier to it's catching them.
Tezoth, though having his shoulder in pain, knows that he must momentarily grin and bear it. Or at the very least bear it: grinning at a charging rhinoceros doesn't have much of a beneficial effect. "Jump into my bag, Weasel!"
"Sod off!" He replies.
"Weasel, we're going to be skewered if you don't!" Rose's shouting has the desired effect of motivating Weasel, for he realizes just how right she is.
"If I get trampled," he let's them both know, "you are not getting my collection of antique spoons!" Then, he makes his way out of the bag and onto Rose's shoulder. Bouncing through the jungle, dodging low branches and vaulting high logs, Weasel has to reckon well on his timing, for there won't be another chance. After a hard landing the two runners lose some speed, and so now Weasel leaps.
He is successful, diving head-first into the dragon's rucksack; in which various thieving related items bounce around. Ignoring lock-picks that keep poking him, Weasel finds the caltrops wrapped up in a corner. He unwraps them, and sticks his head up, to see the rhino even closer.
"Just throw them on the ground, yes?" He asks.
"Yes," replies Tezoth.
Mr Weasel does so, and two branch snaps he later relates to Tezoth and Rose the results. "Rhinos are impervious to caltrops!"
"Is it still close?" Asks Rose.
"I think it's getting tired! Wait. It seems to be getting a second wind!"
"Since when do rhino's get a second wind?!" Tezoth asks this more out of irritation than a sense of zoological investigation.
"Since now!" Replies Rose.
Tezoth feels his breathing become painful, lungs screaming for oxygen. "We can't keep going much longer!"
"Don't worry," Weasel tells them. "I have a highly improbable plan!"
"Which is?" Rose asks.
Weasel does not reply. Trying to summon the courage and fast-thinking his improbable plan is about to call for, he simply stares at the rhinoceros for four seconds. Then he jumps, legs outstretched for a passing branch; clawing to stay on the mossy bark, the weasel then scurries along to where the branch grows from the tree. Five seconds later, he leaps and lands - improbably - on to the rhino's head
"Mha-ha!" Weasel triumphantly cries, almost losing his footing in the glory of the moment; he has to quickly fasten his paws around the rhinoceros' horn.
"Take this, you horny bastard!" Weasel shouts. "Hang on, that doesn't quite sound right. Oh, never mind," and he pulls the horn to the right, while shoving his rear paws into the rhino's eyes. Seconds later there's the sound of a heavy smash, with a knocked-out rhino, and a dazed weasel.
Rose and Tezoth cheer Mr Weasel, as he begins to move forward with his head still metaphorically spinning, until the weasel falls down a hole.
"Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?" Tezoth and Rose, crouching over the hole, can hear Weasel saying this from wherever it leads to.
"Are you okay?" Tezoth calls out.
"I don't do snakes! The room's lit though."
Rose looks to Tezoth, "The room?"
He shrugs, shouting back down, "I thought weasels killed snakes?"
"You're thinking of mongoose!" Comes the reply. "Mongeese. Mongooses?" Mr Weasel is not sure of the plural.
Up top, the rhino snorts.
"I think we might be joining you!" Yells Tezoth, who then turns to Rose. "Can you find a spade in my back-pack?" She reaches in and finds it straight away.
"Want me to dig?" She asks, mindful of Tezoth's injury.
"No, no. I can manage." A gentleman thief.
After the hole is widened, the two descend into the torch-lit room that Mr Weasel stands in the middle of, and where two snakes rest in a corner. It's small, with stone walls; yellow and red flames dance across the scenes carved into the black rock, showing the ceremonies and deaths, life and times, of a Fable world. They realize this more clearly as they journey through corridors and passageways of a similar appearance, all the while heading lower and lower into the Earth, till they are on a level with the valley floor. They find no one else as they walk, until they suddenly find orange light, and exit before a lake.
Here, quite unexpectedly, around the lakeside is gathered an array of animals, including Bufkin and Colin; Jack - though he be no animal; and zebras, giraffes, crocodiles, panthers, leopards, tigers, bears, elephants; in short, a great variety of species, for there were many more. Heads turn to the strangers. Tezoth, Rose, and Weasel are quite unsure what to do. Standing still, a brilliant flash of light momentarily blinds them.
Bigby looks out over the Pacific Ocean, contemplating the vastness of it all. After a while, he turns to the person sitting in the adjacent seat.
"Do you remember what I said back at the diner?" His question is audible above the whirring of the engines which propel them through the sky, however Mr Weasel doesn't react. Bigby sees he has headphones on, and so forcibly removes them.
Weasel is annoyed at such a sudden interruption to his auditory enjoyment. "What?"
"Do you remember what I said back at the diner?"
Weasel's eyes narrow, as he realizes he doesn't, though he probably should. "Nooo."
"I said: don't make me have to go on a rescue mission. That was one my favor. Did I ask for a souvenir? No. A postcard? Nuh-uh. To look at your holiday snaps?" Bigby eyes the camera in Weasel's lap, before it's hurriedly pocketed, "no again. But I have to rescue you."
The seat in front of them leans back a degree as Tezoth lays his arms on top of it, and his chin on top of his arms. "In fairness," he says, "you never said that to me."
"And just how did you end up here, anyway?"
"Honestly, Sheriff? I'd heard rumors of a great hidden treasure near Siem Reap just waiting to be pillaged. Knowing the others were coming would provide me with some cover in case things went wrong, I thought; my plan was to use the river lodge as a base, and fly over to the city to search it out. I I could fly back and be out of the danger zone, if something wasn't right. Then I got caught up in rescuing Colin and Bufkin. You know," he adds "it's no small thing to be rescuing rescuers, Sheriff."
In his usual dry manner, Bigby merely says that, "I'll be sure to put that on my CV."
Weasel had been listening to Tezoth's explanation, and so had Rose from the seat behind; she leans forward. "That makes a lot of sense now. You could have just told us though." She and Tezoth exchange looks that show one party is a little hurt, and the other is sorry.
"Did you find the treasure, then?" Inquires Bigby.
"No," answers Tezoth. "Turned out it was one of those metaphorical treasures; I'm not so much a fan of those."
Jack leans across the isle, opposite to Weasel. "We did find a forgotten land of Fables, Tez. That's gotta count for something."
"It wasn't lost to them," Bigby is spot on here.
"Well, no," agrees Tezoth, "however, no one else had been there for centuries."
"And how did they get there?" Sheriff Bigby is always fond of asking questions.
"There used to be a gate to the Homelands," Rose answers. "Closed centuries ago, but many Fables related to that part of the Mundy world managed to get through, along with a river that poured in while the gate was still opened, which formed the lake we told you about."
"This blinding lake?"
"That was the sun bouncing off it," Tezoth informs him. "Magical water and a geographical framing of the sunset combined."
"Sounds like quite the adventure."
"Did I mention the giant?" Jack eagerly asks.
"Five times now," answers the Sheriff.
Regardless, Jack tells him again. "I'd met part of it before, and it's such a rare type! Even in the Homelands they were hard to find; it must be the last of it's species. When an intruder is detected, the enchanted trees come together and form a giant to protect the land! Some of those trees I'd walked by back in my giant-slaying days."
"Hence the fee, fi, fo stuff?"
"Yep - it new I'd respond to that. Those trees are very clever."
"I don't know: they let you all go."
"Thanks, Sheriff," says Rose. "It was me that got us out."
"Turns out another one of Rose's many hidden talents is being very charismatic and persuasive," Weasel remarks.
"Yeah, well, if her sister's anything to by, then --" Bigby stops short after a stabbing glare from Rose, for the Sheriff knows Rose can do more than just look stabby.
"Do you think Bufkin and Colin are okay in the hold?" Tezoth wonders.
"Yeah," says Weasel. That's how they travelled the first time."
The Sheriff is surprised Colin agreed to that, and says as much.
Weasel has his eyes on the floor. "Yeah. I had to promise him an awful lot of stuff. Say," he looks up, "does anyone know where I can find a bottomless beer keg?"
No one does.
"Oh dear," says Weasel.
"That pig cannot go anywhere without trying to be taken back to some sort of farm," Tezoth comments. "After everything, it turns out that's why they were taken; that macaque that attack Weasel and I had ran off --"
"Because it's a prick," interjects Weasel, who had another run in with it and still bore the bruises to show for it.
"-- and when they went out to get it back - being effectively glamoured using their own magic -- it told them about Colin and Bufkin."
"Speaking of glamours," the Sheriff looks at Tezoth and Weasel, "make sure you take enough next time; I'm not going to come get you again because you've both ran out."
"It wasn't our fault," implores Weasel.
"Would you rather we be stuck there?" Asks Tezoth.
Bigby mumbles. "I guess not." His response puts a smile on everyone's faces, and they sit back in their seats.
Mr Weasel thinks it polite to ask the Sheriff how he has got on. "Anything new happen while we've been away, Sheriff? Everything okay?"
Bigby turns to him with wide eyes. "Did you know that there are over one thousand species of bamboo?"
This is the end of the holiday for our adventurous six. When Bufkin got home he took up photography, and still takes pictures of an increasingly irritated Snow White, who doesn't like having her picture taken quite so often. Colin returned to a thriving bamboo plant, and though he knows it isn't the same one he left, he's appreciative of the gesture and pretends to not notice. Rose and Jack soon become a couple, and it's thanks to them that - in a way - the stories really begin. Tezoth continues the life of a thieving dragon, and just happened to forget to mention the various bits of treasure he did actually find in the lost valley. And as for Mr Weasel, his story will end another day.
Damn, that was... amazing. No, far from amazing, it was excellent, fantastic, superb, extraordinary! You've really outdone yourself this time, Noir - and you've really brought my character to life, good show!
Fun fact: I actually was going to include Rose in my next chapter for Tez, too. :P
EDIT: Happy Birthday to you! I wish the absolute best for you.
Rose and Tezoth, with Weasel in his bag, keeping running for ten minutes before they dare stop in a thicket; and, puffing, talk.
"What th… moree hell was that thing?" Asks Tezoth.
"I think it was a giant." Says Rose. "A proper giant, not just a random tall person."
"I feel very small," is all Weasel says.
"What about Jack?" Rose sounds worried.
"He's the giant-slayer, I'm sure he'll be fine." Tezoth doesn't actually sound so sure of this, however.
"I guess. We should keep moving, right? Keep looking for Colin and Bufkin?"
"I think so. I mean, yes! It's why we're here, and I think that giant confirms that here is where we need to be." Bold and authoritative when needed is the dragon thief. "The trees don't seem so thick over there; we might be able to see where we are." The spot to which he refers would be but a few moments away as the crow flies, or even as a dragon flies; however in the thick jungle it takes much longer, and t… [view original content]
Chapter 1: New in Fabletown
Trip Trap Bar
Three nights after the events of TWAU
It was an average night in Fabletown, torrential ra… morein poured into the streets, pelting any unlucky souls caught up within the storm. A handful of Fables, however, had been lucky to have shelter within the run down bar. Two pool tables sat towards the front entrance, the floor beneath one of them dug into, by what had appeared to be it being pushed forcefully. A giant hole in the wall opposite of the table confirmed that something had shoved the table into the wall, probably a player that had been upset about the outcome of the match.
That, or it had been a bar brawl, Angus Douglas hadn't been sure when he walked in minutes before. Evidence of such an act certainly were present, namely the claw marks of someone being dragged across the floor, spanning the front door to the bar itself. Continuing his glance around the establishment, he shook his head in … [view original content]
Bigby's final sentence made me chuckle. Could picture him being serious! This was a great read and this helped calm my nerves over the storm of homework and essays I've been consumed with.
It was a fun adventure. Very detailed and excellent, Noir.
Rose and Tezoth, with Weasel in his bag, keeping running for ten minutes before they dare stop in a thicket; and, puffing, talk.
"What th… moree hell was that thing?" Asks Tezoth.
"I think it was a giant." Says Rose. "A proper giant, not just a random tall person."
"I feel very small," is all Weasel says.
"What about Jack?" Rose sounds worried.
"He's the giant-slayer, I'm sure he'll be fine." Tezoth doesn't actually sound so sure of this, however.
"I guess. We should keep moving, right? Keep looking for Colin and Bufkin?"
"I think so. I mean, yes! It's why we're here, and I think that giant confirms that here is where we need to be." Bold and authoritative when needed is the dragon thief. "The trees don't seem so thick over there; we might be able to see where we are." The spot to which he refers would be but a few moments away as the crow flies, or even as a dragon flies; however in the thick jungle it takes much longer, and t… [view original content]
Thanks fellas! pudding_pie. Just wanted to say that I've been watching this thread the past couple of days and have followed your story. Yours is extremely well written, and I do enjoy the graphics that you've drawn!
DragonButter, it's great you created this thread to further enrapture the community into the Fables-verse. I am glad/honored to be a part of it!
Chapter 1: New in Fabletown
Trip Trap Bar
Three nights after the events of TWAU
It was an average night in Fabletown, torrential ra… morein poured into the streets, pelting any unlucky souls caught up within the storm. A handful of Fables, however, had been lucky to have shelter within the run down bar. Two pool tables sat towards the front entrance, the floor beneath one of them dug into, by what had appeared to be it being pushed forcefully. A giant hole in the wall opposite of the table confirmed that something had shoved the table into the wall, probably a player that had been upset about the outcome of the match.
That, or it had been a bar brawl, Angus Douglas hadn't been sure when he walked in minutes before. Evidence of such an act certainly were present, namely the claw marks of someone being dragged across the floor, spanning the front door to the bar itself. Continuing his glance around the establishment, he shook his head in … [view original content]
Comments
That was a really good bit of writing! I'd never before imagined the Fresh Prince kneecapping the Little Tea Pot with a baseball bat, so that's definitely something to take away.
Hope you write more
Not sure if I should ask what his name is, because of the Mods, so I'll just keep a look out for him.
Happy writing
Peter Porgie
Part 3
The wind began to pick up; several trash bags, leaves and large clouds of dust flew past me. A couple of them danced along side me, then ended along the branches and light poles. I continued walking down the side walk and towards my parent's tiny two bedroom apartment.
Since my father handed Emily everything in regards to the club, the two of them moved out and into an apartment. They seemed to enjoy it; they had their own space to come and go as they pleased and since we were all adults now, they had time to themselves. Mom told me the other day they had a date night, something they had not had since they began dating. It was nice hearing that, knowing they were getting out and doing something together.
By the time I reached the apartment, my feet were sore and my throat parched. I could use a cold glass of water by now. Mom opened the door, smiled and gave me a loving embrace. I could smell dinner from the doorway; it reminded me instantly of my childhood. She was constantly in the kitchen and when no one was looking, give me the leftover scraps from pieces that fell off. A couple of times while she cooked, dad would hold me while I gnawed on a bone. He'd chuckle everytime I growled and would always crack a joke. 'Its pretty dead, son. Its not going anywhere.'
"There is my big handsome boy!" Mom instantly covered my face in kisses. I could feel the thick layers of lipstick left on each cheek.
"MOM! Seriously! Someone could be watching!"
"Oh, stop! I'm your mother! I can kiss you all I want!"
I laughed, as I nonchalantly tried to wipe the lipstick marks. Sho noticed, however and gave me a quick swipe. I could never pull a fast one of mom, even to this day.
"Where is dad?"
"He is up in his office. He's been working on a project now."
"How..how is he today?"
"He's doing good, Peter. Dr. Swineheart said all we could do was take it one day at a time. He has his good days and bad."
I didn't want to think of my father withering away. "Can I go see him?"
"Peter! Of course. Come inside. The others should be here soon." Great. Just great.
As mom closed the door behind me, I headed up to his office. As I walked down the halls, pictures of memorie's past watched my every move. I noticed several of my parents; it was nice to see dad smile in these. Mom, like always, looked so radiant. Then, there were the group photos of my siblings and I. God, Penny and Katie always looked disgusted when I was with them. I stared at a particulair one; we were all in a kiddie pool one hot summer, swimming and playing sharks. Again, I looked so out of place. Ugh. Fuck. I looked just LIKE him, even as a child.
I wanted to take this picture down and cut me out of it. Why should I even be in these, I thought. Its no wonder Penny and Katherine want nothing to do with me. Ruining what they had before I cam along. Thank God for the others, aat least, especially Ethan. He was my saving grace.
"I remember that day."
I turned around and noticed dad. He had some color today and didn't look as tired as he usually did.
"Hey, dad."
"There is my boy." Like mom, he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a loving embrace. I buried my face into his neck, closed my eyes and pictured my five year old self. Even to this day, I still enjoyed getting hugs from dad. At least he didn't leave lipstick marks on my face.
"You look better today..."
"I feel better, Peter."
He smiled and took me under his arm, as we walked into his office. As he closed the door, I looked around the room that was once mine and Ethan's; the walls were covered in pictures we all drew for him over the years, various photos of us kids and the many projects he was working on. They were mostly boats and horse carriages for some odd reason. Something to do with the homelands; I don't know. With dad, I never asked too many questions.
"Wow. You've been busy."
"Yeah. I try to keep my mind occupied. Fuck's sake!"
I looked over and noticed he accidentaly sliced his thumb open. As I rushed to grab paper towels, he began to laugh. Was he being serious?
"DAD! What are you laughing at?! This is not funny!"
"You are just like your mother...always fuckin' worried about something."
Yeah. Like mom. Not like you at all....I tried shaking the thought away but it was no use. Dad could see my face expression change; I was no longer concentrating on his finger but something else.
"Peter."
"Yes...dad?"
"You okay, son? You look like you have something heavy on your mind."
"No. Just...the usual. School and work..."
"That all?"
"Yeah...that's it." I hated lying to dad. Think he could tell I was not telling him everything. He was good at that. All he did was pat me on the shoulder and continue to clean up his thumb.
"Well, you know. If you DO have something you wanna talk about, you can come to me, Peter..."
I knew that but I didn't want to bother him with my troubles. It was something I had to deal with; learn how to either forget or control it. That's were mom came in. I had to ask. I had to talk.
"I know, dad. I...I know."
Dad dropped the subject; I could tell he would be right there when I spoke to mom later. Great. Just fucking great. I walked over to a red boat and examined it. Dad noticed my actions, walked over and grabbed my shoulder.
"You like that one? Been working on this for years."
"Yeah, I actually remember it. I...I remember you working on this when I was a kid. It turned out real good!"
"Yeah. That's right. I had you in one arm, Ethan in the other. I was determined to finish it."
Dad was silent. I noticed his face was turned and looking at a picture of me and him. I believe I was two or three; I was tiny in his arms and he was reading me a story. Mom must have taken the picture.
"You were so little as a child, Peter. My runt. I love you, son. I want you to know that."
"Dad. I do know that-"
"Sometimes it feels like I have to remind you of that. You look at me like you question that...like I NEED to tell you that everyday."
"No, dad. I know you love me. Its just, these last couple of days....I've had a lot on my mind. About...dumb shit."
"We all questions our lives sometimes, Peter. Its a normal behavior. But when you begin to question what you already know, that's when it can drive a person insane and lose all control of themselves. No matter what you hear, no matter what you may think, I love you and that will never change. Do you understand me?"
I tried to hide the tears. I didn't want to cry in front of him. He smiled and kissed my forehead. "I do, dad. I know you love me...I love you, too."
Ugh, God. The hell is wrong with me? As he hugged me, mom came into the room.
"Dinner is ready in a few. The others should be here soon. Goahead and come down and wash up."
As mom left, dad grabbed my arm and gave it a friendly punch.
"C'mon, boy. Let's go have dinner."
Dad and I walked side by side down the hall. As we passed by all the portraits, the feelings came back. All those eyes watching me. Judging me. Questioning who I really was. I grabbed dad's hand and held onto it tight. He held it tightly, as we walked into the kitchen.
Guess he could see it. I just wanted to get answers and get tonight overwith.
I just wanted to be whole.
End of Peter's story. Onto Penelope's story.
Hope you enjoyed. I promise the next story will have pictures. Been so busy!
Aww, I was looking forward to seeing more Peter.
Yeah I too was a bit sad to end it here. He will return, however, after Junior and Penny's story.
Chapter 5 Woodlands Part 2
I lay defeated on the ground, my left arm covered in blood. Bluebeard is good... a really good swordsman.. I didn't stand a chance. What happens now... I lost? Bluebeard walks over to me and helps me up. He tell his butler to release my brother, and he explains to me that 'it wasn't his true intention to put it's previous condition.'
He told me that Barney was paying him a dept he owed. Not sure if to call this bullshit but what he is saying seems accurate enough. Barney is gone and my neighborhood. Is back to what it use to be, that only leaves one thing..
I've asked Bluebeard about what he meant before our fight. He told me that me and brother Walter are human fables. What the hell is a fable? I know that we are descendants of the English Legend Robin Hood, but what he is telling us is that, we are practically immortal? Sure, and my next door neighbor is related to the Queen of Sheba.
All of this stuff he's telling me, its a bit overwhelming.. Whats also on my mind is why did he let me and my brother go and why is he telling both of this? He must want something in return...
Of course he do, in exchange for sparing our lives and feeding us all of this information, I guest it was right to repay him... We listen to what he had to say, he wanted us to retrieve a stolen artifact from a 'mundy' museum in Staten Island. He gave us a picture of the item, and we accepted... The sooner we do this the sooner we don't have to worry about this bald bastard again...and don't think I forgot about you Redd...
As we prepare to leave I open the door slightly and see a middle age man walking down the hall. He had a wolverine pressense to him idk...something was beastly and intimidating about this guy.
Bluebeard slams the door suspiciously and tells us to use the window..
My brother has a bad feeling about this. I tell him that we are in the clear and once we get Bluebeard's item back we are home free. Walter rolls his eyes and says "What happen to justice?"
I told him that its already taken care of Barney is away, now once when we pay off our dept, we can go back to our normal lives. Then my knucklehead brother yells out 'WHAT NORMAL LIVES?' then we make our way to our next destination.
To be continued
Robby is going to catch up with Redd soon...
I'm introducing 1 new folklore also next chapter here's a clue:
Its appearance was regarded as a portent of death. It is generally supposed to be larger than a normal dog, and often has large, glowing eyes
Thanks!
Well, I'm going to toss something out there. Bare with me on this, I never was good in English class back in high school, I just never cared to pay attention to grammar.
The Black Dog
Mundie Name: Rode Ogen
Fable name: Old Red Eyes, The Black dog.
Physical Appearance: Rode, is capable of changing shape between a human form, and a canine form without a glamor
Standing six foot tall, Rode is a caucasian male with black hair and brown hair. He has a more pale complexion. He normally wears black clothing that has an off green tint, or Celtic designs on the material. His eyes turn red when using his black dogs abilities as a human. His body is athleticly toned, with leaner thin muscle that is well toned.
While in his true form, the black dog, has coal black fur, with an odd green shimmer if light touches it, it's red eyes seem to burn with flames within. He stands as tall as he did in human size, six foot tall, being a daunting unearthly hound that he is. In this form he has three eyes, the thrid eye claiming to be able to peer into one's soul.
Legend: The Black Dog, is said to be a benevolent spirit, the protector of children and a protector of travelers on the roads, though repeated visits from him is said to be an omen of death and they say seeing it was an omen of death to come, and claims have said those who meet them at a cross road all have gone deaf, blind or mute, from the event. The black dog 's howl sends shivers to the soul, its howl alone has claimed to frighten people and led them to their own doom. Other have claimed that the black dog is just a watchman, there to watch those close to death, to help guide their souls to the afterlife, commonly found near prisons before executions.
Fabletown: Rode has no current connections to Fabletown. It is said he travels place to place staying under the radar in Europe other then a few sightings across the board that spring up, nothing to pin down his location exactly or where he well turn up next.
Starting:
It was a cool night, a enticing break from the hot summer's day, the streets where alittle more busy then normal. "So..." Rode said looking over the buildings "This is what Fabletown looks like, fitting." He mused running his hand along a building slipping into the shadows of the alleyways "But what did I expect, a glimpse of the old world. Ha. Stupid of me" He sniffed at the scents in the air and leaned back against the wall looking out of the alleyway at a bar across the street. He smiled to himself thinking of the people he had met in the past who travel to such locations to try and drink their sins and worries away, drowning themselves in alcohol and guilt. He shook his head steping forward as two people blocked the entrance of the alley.
"Well well well, what do we have here" one of the two men taunted "A little stray wandering all lost down the wrong street"
"Now, give us what you got and no one gets hurt" The second man revealed a knife threateningly "I will cut you"
"Gentlemen" Rode said stepping toward them "You have to the count of five to piss off."
"Fuck, gut him" The first hissed at the comment
"This is what happens when you fuck with us boy" The man stepped forward thrusting at Rode. The man dressed in black stepped backwards evading the attack "Stand still" The thug growled as he pursued the man again with his knife.
"Stop screwing around and stab him already" the first demanded.
"I'll call that five" Rode stepped forward grabbing the mans hand and snapping the thug's wrist causing him to drop the knife. Rode's eyes glowed red as he smiled a toothy grin as he tossed the one thug to the side into the wall and dashed at the second who had started to turn to run, grabbing him and dragging him back into he shadows, pressing his fingers into the mans eyes, til that popped under the pressure, then tossed the screaming thug to the side turning the the other.
The thug was scrambling for his knife, reaching out for it only to be kicked in the chest by Rode, rolling him back over to the wall once more "M-mercy" The man pleaded.
"IF that is what you wish." Rode laughed grabbing the man, forcing his mouth open with one hand,placing a finger on the man's tongue burning a hole through it as his eyes glowed brightly "You'll probably live. If you're lucky" He looked back to the entrance of the alley, the screams had caught attention.
A light clicked on in the alley lighting it up "I'm going to need back up on my location" A police office quickly headed down the alleyway to the two man laying there "Dispatch we are going need medical assistance, two civilians wounded, The assailant no where in sight"
Rode jumped to the next building and climbed down the fire escape, before stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked away "Humans, they never listen." he sighed as he strolled off "Now i gone and made a mess."
Oh man...I feel bad for Peter.
Poor kid. Can't wait to read Penny's story and see how you combine all of this together! Good work like always, Pie.
I'm not a part of any photo-sharing website besides Instagram. Any ideas on a good one to use? Would uploading it to Google Plus work?
I guess either Photobucket, imgur, tumblr, or even Deviantart would be the most likely ones that I can think of. I have no idea about Google Plus or Instagram though, you can certainly try it.
Uh gees! I'm bad at guessing games! Bet its so obvious, too! XD
Good work! Can't wait to read more and find out who it is!
I might as well say this before I forget. Given the recent 'events' that happened over the past week or so, and how people are still playing/finishing up The Wolf Among Us finale. I will not be doing a story challenge for this month, but, I still plan on typing up another F.S.A. discussion for July.
So yeah, just a little thing to let you all know what's going on.
Nice! Very interesting.
Penelope Porgie
Part 1
"Candyman"
"Oliver"
When I first heard the glass break, I automatically assumed it was a client. We had some that had no idea what 'no' meant and I was sure it was our bouncer taking 'care' of the problem. Then, I heard one after another and seconds later, that heavy British accent.
"Fook! 'Ell is goin' on?! Ain't got no 'elp 'round here!"
I quickly grabbed my robe, dressed and ran to his bathroom. There he was; vomit covering the front of his jacket, his skin as white as snow and his eyes blod shot. He smelled something awful and I'm not sure he remembered who I was. He stared at me with a muddled look in his eyes. I slowly walked over to his side, picked him up and forced him to sit on the toilet seat.
He picked up his arms and tried swinging in my direction; he was struggling, however, to find my location and instead, swung his fist into the wall. The skin cracked open and he began to bleed. I watched as the blood trickled down his white knuckles and form a pool around his lap. Great. Now I have this to take care of.
"Oliver, please! Sit still!"
"Don't ya' tooch me, you stupid fookin' bitch! I'm in no foockin' mood to have ya' treatin' me like some fookin' child! Now, leave me be, so I can finish my drugs!"
I noticed the puncture marks all along his arms and neck. Some of them were still fresh and a couple had tiny trails of blood trickling down. I sighed and ignored his remarks. Again, he tried to take a swing but fell to the floor. I peered down and noticed he was in and out of conscience. I was used to this. Since I began working for him two years ago, this was a routine for us. It wasn't all bad; Oliver was a sweetheart to me most of the time
"Get up, Oliver! I'm not going to pick you up..."
Luckily, one of the dancers found me and Oliver in the bathroom. He was stunned to see the boss on the floor. He looked in my direction and before he spoke, Oliver began to mumble something I couldn't quite understand.
"Uhhh, do I WANT to know what happened here?"
"Look at his arms, Dice. He's been doing Heroin again. Help me move him to the bed, please."
Dice grabbed on side, while I held onto the other. We leaned his body against the bed, as I tried to clean him up. He was still mumbling nonsense. I could hear Dice sighing behind me. That was one thing about him I couldn't stand. He ALWAYS had to make me feel 'terrible' for helping Oliver.
"You are setting yourself up for more heart ache, Penny."
"Shut the fuck up, Dice. He....he needs help. What was I supposed to do-leave him there and drown in his own vomit and blood?"
"Uh, yeah. He IS a Fable. Not like a little vomit or blood will kill him..."
Easy for you to say; you are a Vampire. Only proper way to kill YOU guys was beheading. The more popular you were, the harder it was to kill you. Oliver was not a very popular Fable; something like overdosing on mundy drugs could easliy end his life. I felt like I HAD to save him. There were times, however, I didn't want to and see how far I could go before he was knocking on death's door. During these times, all I could picture was my father.
Oliver and my father, the infamous Georgie Porgie, used to work together. Oliver would provide my father with items that were difficult to come across and my father would provide the drugs. I heard stories of the two of them drinking Champagne and snorting Cocaine in the back room. My mother had the patience of a saint, when it came to dealing with my father. Yet, here I was, doing the exact same fucking shit. Fuck me, man. I loved my father but the man was a fool and a criminal. I tried diligently to forget WHO he was in the past and WHAT he used to be. God. i WAS becoming my mother and it made me sick.
"Dice. Just-can you just go away, please?"
"Penny...gees. I was just giving you a hard time-"
"You've been doing that a lot, Dice! I'm all alone in this! I can't just ignore this and leave him to die. I'm hoping he will get the hint one day and just stop..."
Dice sighed. "Its...its never that easy, Penny. They NEED a reason to stop..."
I tried to ignore him, as I wiped the corners of Oliver's mouth. He shifted to the left and pressed his head against the wall. His eyes were open and seem to stare into nothing; they were no longer green but a had the appearance glass. I tried speaking to him but it was no use. As i began searching the medicine cabinet for his pills, Dice walked over to our boss and began cleaning the blood around his nose and arms.
"Stupid idiot..." I tried not to laugh, as he mumbled these words. "God, he's such a fuckin' idiot! Why would someone do this shit? I had a cousin that overdosed. He didn't die but that shit messed him up bad. He has bad migraines all the time and he wakes up in severe pain around his chest."
"My dad used to do this shit..."
"Oh yeah. That's right. It was your mom, huh?"
I was confused. "My...my mom?"
"Yeah. That gave him a second chance and allowed him to quit."
I was assuming that was the story; he was horrible back in the days and I'm guessing mom had a huge part in that but who knows. They never discussed what took place before me or my siblings came along. Honestly, a part of me didn't want to know.
"I guess, Dice. Sure."
I finally found the pills, popped the top and gently placed one under his lip. He moved for a short period of time, glanced in my direction and without hesitation, closed his eyes. Dice picked him up and carried him into his room. I flipped the switch, as he gently placed Oliver down on the bed.
"Ha. His room always feels like I went back into the 1970's. Look at all this shit!"
I flipped him onto his side, as Dice began tracing his fingers along the items in Oliver's room. He was always so fascinated with the Lava lamp and disco ball that hung above his head. It was true; being in his room made me feel strange and lost. He used to have a hot tub in his room but the damn thing leaked and ruined his furry purple carpet. It was a pain pulling the soaking wet mess up and replacing it.
"Let's go, Dice. Let him rest..."
"Hey. You go on tonight?"
"No. I'm having dinner with my folks..."
"Huh. That's new."
Truth is, I was not looking forward to going. Having mom worry about me, seeing Peter there when he didn't belong in the first place; Junior judging me like always, Emily high as fuck, Katie an emotional mess, Ethan hyperventilating over everything and then, there was dad. Last time I saw him he looked awful; so pale, weak and tired. I did worry about him. Maybe that was why. A part of me still cared. A part of me wanted answers.
"Yeah. I guess...."
I walked past Dice and headed straight into my room. I didn't give him the chance to speak; the door was closed; locked and radio turned way up. 'It's 2am' played in the background, as I flopped onto my bed and took out my phone. Two missed messages; one from mom, the other from Katie. God dammit, people. Great. Emily got arrested again.That girl, I swear to god. Dad...just like dad...
I reached under my bed and pulled out a photo. This silly thing always brought me back to a happy place.
"God, look at all of us...those were some wonderful times."
In the picture, we all were so content. We had nothing to worry about or question. Things change, however and within months, our world came crashing down and so many skeletons were coming out from the closet. Even back then, I tried so hard to ignore and pretend like none of that mattered to me. But it did. It always did. I grasped the picture against my chest and broke down into tears.
"Why...why won't you talk to us, dad? Why won't you tell us what happened...."
Suddenly, I snapped back into reality when I heard his voice again. "PENNY! PENNY! Where the fook are ya,' Penny!? I need ya, woman!"
I slid the picture back under the mattress, wiped away the tears, fixed my makeup and rushed to his side.
Just like mom used to do so many years ago.
Part 2 coming soon. Hope you enjoyed.
NOTE: Feel free to ask questions if anything is confusing and I will TRY to explain without giving too much away.
Damn! Oliver is pimpin in that suit! XD Love the images!
I think I get it...Penny hates who her father WAS but she is also living the same way her parents did. Seems like Georgie kept A LOT from the kids. Plus, seems like people in Fabletown are beginning to open their mouth about a lot of things. Good work like always! MORE!!!
Thanks
Interesting indeed, I like your version of the black dog. Suspenseful and mysterious.
You should start your very own comics lol.
I would LOVE to do that one sweet day.
Penelope Porgie
Part 2
My sunshine
NOTE: Before I forget, someone asked me HOW I was to continue, since Georgie was killed off. Simple: he was brought back. By who, that is another story. Guess John knew all along the fate of his daughter. Junior's story, however, WILL be changed and I already have an idea on that situation. Hopefully the changes will be alright to everyone. Enjoy.
Dear Diary: God. He did it again. He's in the room right now sleeping. Going over to mom and dad's place later for dinner. I need to go. I don't want to. Peter will be there. I wish he wouldn't. It's for PORGIES only but I'm not there for him. I'm there because of dad. My anger for him still comes and go. I wish he would TALK but instead, he sits there with a smile like nothing is wrong in this world. Hopefully he is feeling better. Can't believe Emily. Well, no. I can. Fuck! I hear him calling me. Better go. Wish me luck. xoxo
"PENNY! PENELOPE!!!"
I closed the book and ran into his room. He was going into shock; his body was trembling and shaking like a leaf. His skin was clamy and pale and his forehead was drenched in sweat. When I touched his skin, it was cold and stiff. Frantically, I searched his bathroom cabinets for something to help the trembling.
"Pen...Penelope, dear. C'mon over here. Sit by me...UGGH, fook! My head!"
"I'm trying to find your pills, Oliver! Where the fuck did you move them now?"
He was silent; I asked him again and when I didn't get a response, walked back into the room. He had stopped breathing; his face was a pale blue and his eyes had sunk back into his skull. I panicked, as I screamed for Dice; for anyone that would take their time to help a poor girl and her dying pimp. God. I WAS mom....When no one came to my aide, my anxiety levels rose high and soon, my heart was racing. FUCK!
I performed CPR on him for awhile; thank God, because Dice heard my pleas and rushed to my side. By his side, however, stood another one of the dancers. Chad Mann, a guy I've known for years, ran into the bathroom and began searching for the pills. Dice dialed Swineheart, while I continued breathing into Oliver's mouth. 'Come on you idiot,' I thought, as I pushed down onto his chest. 'Please! Don't you die on me! Don't you leave me...'
Chad returned with a bottle of Evzio and with my help, he took the pill and shoved it into the back of his throat. I poured some water after it and helped massage the pill down. When he was not responding, I again attempted to perform CPR. After what felt like an eternity, his eyes fluttered opened, he leaned forward and began gasping for air.
"Fucking idiot, Oliver! What did you do that for, huh?! You had me worried sick!"
"Oh...cough...calm down, Penny. cough I'm fine...just ugh...give me a minute."
Dice looked at me direction; he looked annoyed that I even tried to save his life. Let him die, Penny. If he DOES make it, so be it. It's not your responsibility to save him if he does not want it.... Easier said then done, so, I turned around and focused my attention on Oliver.
"Chad-"
"Yes, sir?"
"Go...cough...go get me a glass of Vodka, please."
"OLIVER! You just overdosed! You almost died! You don't need alcohol!"
Oliver turned around and seemed irritated. He walked over to me; his nose inches from my face. His piercing green eyes with the apperance of glass, stared deep into mine. The smell of smoke, liquor and sex was intense and left me feeling light headed.
"Are you my mother, Penny?"
"No, but-"
"So, what ARE you, Penny? HMMM?! If you ARE NOT my mother, than who are you!?"
I looked over at both Dice and Chad; they both turned their heads and tried to make eye contact with me. They knew their places; God forbid if either of them opened their mouth at that moment. Oliver was a mean, vigorous man that was capable of yanking out your own eye before you noticed it was missing.
"Your...your girl, sir."
"That is foockin' right, Penny. MY GIRL! Not my mother, okay? 'Member your place!"
"I DID just save your life, Oliver! Dice wanted to leave you and-"
"HEY, whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA! Don't go throwing ME under the bus, just because YOUR lover made a comment and got pissed off at you!"
"I'm not, Dice! I'm simply STATING that I WANTED to save him!"
"Oh big fucking whoopty fucking doo, Penny! I-"
We suddenly stopped when Oliver slammed his fist into the wall, leaving yet another hole. More work for Chad later on.
"ENOUGH! The both of ya's! One more word outta of your mouth, Dice and so 'elp me! Maybe next time you will get your wish, huh Dice? Ya' want me dead so bad?!"
Both Dice and I looked, as he pulled out a fully loaded pistol. After he cocked it, he threw it at dice. Chad backed up into the corner; his alarmed facial expressions should have given it away.
"Then go on! Kill me right here! Pull that trigger and end it all now! Go on!"
"OLIVER!"
"Be quiet, Penny! You said it yourself, no? Go on, Dice! Ya' want me dead so bad-then do it!"
Oliver grabbed the barrel and jammed it into the side of his skull. Dice's hands began to shake, as Oliver continued screaming at him. I was startled and waiting to have these walls coated with bits of flesh, skin and blood. I closed my eyes; I instanly began humming 'You are my sunshine' in my head. My dad always sang this to me when I was having a bad day. God, how I wished he was here now.
"Boss, stop! I didn't mean it! I just-"
"No! Go on, Dice! KILL ME!!"
Dice threw the gun to the side and crumbled to the floor. He was in tears, as Oliver kicked his side and laughed.
"You pathetic excuse of a man. YOU have the nerve to talk 'bout ME and my demons. Look at ya'-nothing more than a sniveling, pathetic excuse. ONLY I have the ability to choose when I die. You Vampirse piss me that fook off..."
Before he left, he ordered Chad to clean the room and fix the hole. I chased after him, still humming the song in my head. Oliver turned to face me.
"And you..."
"Oliver! That was foolish and you didn't need to do that!"
"Didn't I? You all seem to forget WHO is in charge here, Penny. I do this because I CARE about you all...about my club and what this fookin' thing stands for. Sometimes, fear is the only thing we can all agree on, no?"
"You scared me...what if-what if he HAD pulled the trigger!?"
Oliver dug into jacket pocket, pulled out a cigar and lit it. The halls were soon consumed with smoke.
"Then another Fable would be erased in the books, huh? Or, so...I assume."
"WHAT?! That was supid, Oliver, no matter what you say!"
"Oh don't worry yourself, Penelope. I'm used to having my kindness betrayed by evil and those that do not trust me. I've been bitten by plenty of Vipers to know when I see one...."
"What? What are you-"
"You better get ready for dinner tonight. I overheard you saying its with your folks. Give your dad my blessings and well wished for me, okay?"
Oliver reached up, grabbed my face and kissed my lipes gently. "Now, be a good girl and do as you are told." He walked down the hall; he was still trying to walk, as a trail of smoke followed behind him. I passed by his room; Chad was furiously trying to fix the hole, as Dice continued to stand in the same spot he was earlier. His eyes were focused on the floor. He did not budge, as I continued to walk and into my room.
I again turned on the radio and threw myself on the bed. I'd get up and look for an outfit; perhaps take a shower, fix my hair and do my makeup. Fuck. Why did he have to do that to me? Scare me like that. I care...I care so much for him and I wish he would see that. I grabbed my iphone, typed in the password and found my saved voicemails. I began searching until I found the right one. I needed this; my nerves were all over the place.
'Hey sweetie. It's dad. I know you are busy...wish you'd answer your phone. Hate talking to this thing. Want to talk to my daughter. Hear your voice, not the machines...' God. He sounded devestated.
'Well, anyways. Your mom told me you were having a bad day. Thought maybe this would help-You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know dear, how mush I love. Please don't take my sunshine away. I love you, Penelope. Remember, no matter what you may do or think, I will always love you with every fiber of my being. Call me back. Love you.'
As I applied my makeup, that entire conversation was replayed. Remember, no matter what you may think or do, I will always love you with every fiber of my being. I began humming that song; my spirits slowly being lifted, each time I heard him and the song.
Yeah. Right back at you, dad.
Part 3 coming soon.
Perfect timing! I was just about to eat lunch, as this would make for some great reading material.
Well, perfect timing indeed!
Enjoy this and your meal! I too, was heading out to get food! lol
Man, too bad you are not going to school for animation and drawing. You'd make a killing!
I'd read your comics. Great work like always!
I was wondering how you'd do that but it makes sense. Its happened before.
I now can't wait to read Junior's story since you made the changes. I feel bad for Penny and here is why: she seems to hate her life because its what HER parents went through; that whole dancer and pimp thing. At the same time, though, she tries to put her life and their life aside. Another reason is her father. I'm guessing with his return, people are talking and bringing certain things up, which may or may not have influenced her thoughts.
Either way, hopefully she can figure it out and make things work. BTW you mentioned her powers-will you be bringing that into the 3rd section? The final part was sad and very touching. Good work like always, Georgie!
More!!!
Chapter 6 The Museum
All we had to do was, get this artifact from this museum and pay off Bluebeard's dept... for sparing me and brothers life. Something telling me there's a catch to this, but for now we need to find a way in the museum and nab the artifact. It was dark out and people were locking up, so we wait until everyone has gone home.
We made our way to the top of the museum. We scanned the inside of the museum and as we expected the alarms system is already active. Not many guards are around either. Sneaking in here will be a piece of cake.
Walter cuts the glass with his dagger, it cuts through the glass like butter and of course no ordinary blade could do that. Walter hands me the rope and I make my way down all gracefully. I felt like Ethan Hunt from that one movie.
Now im on the ground level. I use my sword to show me exactly where the alarm system is, I then scan the room for the artifact. It's right by a case containing a suit of armor. Getting there will be pretty tricky with all of these lasers surrounding me... so now is the time to put my abilities to the test.
I make my way through the lasers avoiding most them. I nearly set of one them when I got off balanced but i was good. After avoiding the last laser, i made it to the case where the artifact is held. I use Walter's dagger to cut open the case and try to remove the artifact but suddenly, the alarm and lasers are disabled and I get this cold and eerie feeling,
I am then attack by this shadow dog thing. It howls and then begins to circle me. I don't know what it is planning but I'm ready for anything that goes down next.
The shadow dog begins to speak to me, 'it tells me that I'm good at what I do' before turning back into a human. Wait... no way, It's Redd. How did he know I was here? Bluebeard... I knew there was something off about that bald fucker. But this still doesn't add up, Bluebeard could of killed me back at the Woodlands. Why would he send me here to let Redd do it? Unless...
"Bluebeard sent you here did he? Too bad, because i need that artifact. You see Robby, that work of art has is very special, if you touch it for a certain period of time you can unlock memories of your past. It only works for people like... us.
People like us? He meant fables or whatever. If what he is saying is true then this could answer some my questions. But this is my dept to Bluebeard...
You know what screw it, Redd and Bluebeard can go fuck themselves, neither are up to no good and I....
Suddenly, Redd attacks Robby in his shadow dog form attempting to kill him.
What the hell? What are you? Redd replied that he was regarded as the portent of death, and he haunted the lands of Britain with his apparition and he made it clear that he was leaving with this artifact.
As he attacked me again, I quickly grabbed the artifact and upon touching it i had a strange vision. I see my mother and the my father but wait... This isn't right this can't be, my father...my father is Robin Hood? How can this be...this can't be right...
Robby then falls unconscious triggering the alarms. Redd grabs the artifact and disappears. Walter quickly makes his way down the rope and tries to wake up Robby before the police arrives...
To be continued
I have and I did! My meal consisted of a sandwich and chips btw. Figured I would tell ya, just 'cause. :P
What a twist! XD
Chapter 1: New in Fabletown
Trip Trap Bar
Three nights after the events of TWAU
It was an average night in Fabletown, torrential rain poured into the streets, pelting any unlucky souls caught up within the storm. A handful of Fables, however, had been lucky to have shelter within the run down bar. Two pool tables sat towards the front entrance, the floor beneath one of them dug into, by what had appeared to be it being pushed forcefully. A giant hole in the wall opposite of the table confirmed that something had shoved the table into the wall, probably a player that had been upset about the outcome of the match.
That, or it had been a bar brawl, Angus Douglas hadn't been sure when he walked in minutes before. Evidence of such an act certainly were present, namely the claw marks of someone being dragged across the floor, spanning the front door to the bar itself. Continuing his glance around the establishment, he shook his head in disgust as a splash of dried blood stuck out on the far wall, perpendicular to the bar.
"Hey, trash bag!" the woman from behind the bar grossed her arms, a small smirk curling on her lips. "You gonna order a drink, or continue playing the health inspector?"
The silver haired woman shrugged when he didn't respond, turning back to the gentleman sitting opposite of her. Angus watched as the man gently turned his head to the left, a milky white eye glancing at the newcomer grudgingly. Scoffing, the man ran a hand through his jet black hair, before focusing back on the beer mug in front of him.
Nodding towards the bar keep, Angus made his way to the bar, sitting on the far right off the man in the jet black hair. Slightly sneaking a peek at the new arrival, the man chuckled to himself before taking a sip of his beer. The woman approached him, as he turned to face her. Grabbing a spare mug, she began to wipe it with a white cloth, as she nodded towards him.
"Pick yer poison." she said bluntly. "Don't waste me or Gren's time."
"Whiskey on the rocks," he replied with a slight Scottish accent. "Best make it a double."
Replacing the mug back to where she had grabbed it, the woman instead grabbed a decently tall glass, and placed it before him. Pouring the amber liquid, she glanced at him, as she plunked a trio of ice cubes into the glass. Taking an experimental sip of the liquid, Amber sighed in relief, as it slowly burned down his throat.
"So," she asked. "I'm not usually one for small talk, but you look new around these parts."
Angus coughed as he accidentally swallowed some of the whiskey down his wind-pipe. Holding up a finger, he carefully removed a rag from the counter, and violently coughed into it for a moment, as she rolled her eyes. Recovering from his embarrassing moment, he chuckled.
"You're right, lassie, I'm not." he smiled. "I'm from a place in Scotland, a 'magical' land, if you can believe in it."
"So you're not a mundie then?" the woman poured him another glass. "For a Fable, you sure as hell don't act like it."
"Well, when I heard of Fabletown, I was told that it would be located in the Mundane world. Though, I'm blessed not having to buy those cursed Glamours. Foul things, those things, can cause you to be down right confused about who is who." Angus replied, taking another brave swig from his glass.
Turning on the stool, he glanced back into the bar. To his right, near the one called Gren, a dart board hung loosely off of a single nail, an otherwise giant hole was crudely repaired with planks of wood. Standing there, in the doorway, was a younger man in very trashy clothing, soaked from head to toe. Shaking his head at the poor soul, he turned back.
"I heard the Wolf was in town." the new arrival growled. "I got a bone to pick with that mutt."
"Well he ain't here," the woman snapped. "So get lost, deadbeat."
"I ain't going anywhere until someone tells me where I can find the mongrel." the man snarled.
"Boy, I must be pretty famous around these parts." a man replied, walking out of the back room with a pack of huff and puff cigarettes. "Who's callin' me a mongrel?"
"That loser by the door." Gren barked, finishing the last of his beer. "The lady asked you to leave asshole, an' unless you want the Big Bad Wolf to tear you apart, I would suggest you follow her advice."
"Calm down Gren." the man replied.
"You've done me wrong, Bigby Wolf!" the drenched man clenched his fists. "I traveled a great distance and time to get my revenge."
"Look, I wronged a lot of people back in the day." Bigby said, scratching the back of his head. "I'm reformed, I'm the Sheriff around these parts."
The drenched man grit his teeth as he walked slightly closer, Angus turning on his bar stool to watch. Taking the last sip of his drink, the Scotsman prepared himself, so the Big Bad Wolf of legend stood beside him? This would be an interesting fight.
"Look, whatever I've done to you in the past, I'm sorry." Bigby replied. "We don't need to cause any problems here."
"Bullshit, does the name Peter Wendlendt mean anything to you?"
"Not that I can recall."
"Do you recall the boy that cried wolf?!" Peter cracked his neck. "Because of you, I lost the trust of ALL of my family, my parents lost their prized sheep, and you even ATE me!"
"I ate a lot of people back in the day." Bigby countered. "Hell, one of them is my best friend, and I blew the asshole's house down on top of eating him. Besides, if I recall your Fable, you liked to be a spoiled little shithead and play tricks on the village. I think my actions were a suitable punishment. Besides, speak of the devil, and he shall appear."
Approaching Bigby, Peter swung his fist in a wide jab, attempting to strike the Sheriff in the jaw. Expertly dodging backwards, Bigby growled as he pounced the man to the floor, his clawed fingers grabbing the boy's throat. Peter struggled for breath, before he tapped on Bigby's arm. The Sheriff released his grip on the man, as Peter reached into his pocket for something. Smacking his arm away, Bigby grabbed his foe by the back of his neck, and tossed him out the front door of the Trip Trap.
"We're gonna take this outside." Bigby snarled towards Holly. "Don't want to wreck your store."
"You mean more than you already have?" the woman replied with a sarcastic grin. "Kick his ass Wolf."
Angus shook his head, disappointed that the battle hadn't been much more than a brief one sided fist fight. He wasn't much of a fighter himself, but boy did he enjoy watching others brawl it out. Turning back once more, he offered for his wallet, paying her the necessary charge for his beverage.
Preparing to stand, Angus stopped, before glancing back at her once more.
"I'm sorry, where are my manners. I never asked for your name?" Angus asked, as the woman scoffed.
"What a gentleman." she growled. "I'm not particularly fond of gentlemen. But it's Holly. Welcome to Fabletown."
Oh hamburgers! Robin Hood! Nice dude!
Nicely written! Very well detailed! More! Angus is a badass!
It's finished! It's finally finished! I have spent far too long on writing this, considering it was supposed to be a short summer challenge. Plus, it's over a week late, though that doesn't seem quite so bad if you consider that I still haven't finished the first story I started writing over three months ago. Anyway, it ends rather abruptly because I realized that it could easily go on longer, and I wanted to call it a day. I do hope, however, that if you manage to read all of it or only part of it, you get some enjoyment out of it. Or entertainment. Basically, something positive. I haven't had chance to read the recent stories on here, so I will catch up with those next; if you'd like to catch up on this story, check out pages 23, 25, and 27 for the other parts. Basically, Colin and Bufkin have been kidnapped while with Rose Red, Jack Horner, and Mr Weasel in Cambodia, and DragonButter's Tezoth has turned up. This is in a few parts - perhaps take it a bit at a time; and, finally, today is my birthday
so thanks for reading something I began in another age.
Tezoth, the dragon and accomplished thief, pulls up a chair opposite the sofa Rose Red, Jack Horner, and Mr Weasel sit on; and by doing so, sets into motion the final part of this tale, as well as some spontaneous string-based background music.
"What the hell are you sitting down for?" Asks Rose, shocked. "Come here and give me a hug!" Standing up with arms open, Rose quite clearly isn't going to move until Tezoth reciprocates, which he does with vigor, for the two are good friends. Jack, still sore after the confrontation during the previous day in which he revealed his true feelings for Rose, turns his head away from the two with a look of irritation. He needn't be affronted by the action though, as the relationship between the embracing two is purely platonic.
After Rose and Tezoth have returned to their seats, grinning wildly, Weasel looks to Rose and comments on whether or not, "you're going to introduce us?"
Rose appears surprised. "You two haven't met?"
"Not properly. I'm quite sure I'd remember those eyes if we had - no offence." He turns to Tezoth for the last part.
"None taken," Tezoth replies. "Some glamours can't seem to change them, hence the glasses. Normally, I'm little more scaly."
"You're a lizard?"
"Something like that." There's a grin back on Tezoth's face.
"About those -" Jack's chatty again, "- they're mine, aren't they?" He's confrontational, too.
"These?" Tezoth takes them off and inspects the aviators with an exaggerated expression of contemplative inspection, before sliding them back on. "Why yes, I believe they are," he replies cooly.
"And just how did you come by them?" There is a forceful tone in Jack's question. Being careful to keep them close since Bufkin had absconded with them - though he realises that he hasn't worn the pair for a day due to the weather - Jack is rather more than irritated that they should have been taken again.
"They were practically hanging out of your back-pack when you were checking in yesterday; arguably, I've done you a favour, as they're a rather nice pair to have smashed on the floor."
"We never saw you!" Rose is surprised once more, and not for the last time.
"You don't become a master thief by being spotted now, do you?" Tezoth flashes what can only be described as a winning smile back at her. This sends Jack into a deeper gloom, where only those wielding a torch harnessing the power of a million candles should dare tread.
"Back to the introductions," says Mr Weasel, for he is a man who values such formalities, "I'm Mister Weasel." He sticks his hand out, expecting it to be shook. It is.
"And I'm Tezoth. Mister Weasel your full name?"
"No, though I generally avoid using my full name. Just 'Weasel' will do." Tezoth shrugs in acceptance.
"It was you," Weasel quickly carries on," who got Bufkin to steal Jack's sunglasses, wasn't it?"
"That's a wild accusation."
"And yet I saw you in our restaurant back at the floating lodges, so I'm not so sure that it is."
"Weasels really are sharp, aren't they. I didn't tell him to steal them, though I did mention that he might try using them to woo the female monkeys. Sort of meant as a joke, to be honest, yet he seemed quite excited by the suggestion."
"He did look good in them," remarks Rose. "For a monkey," she quickly adds.
Jack looks at Tezoth sharply. "How damn long have you been following us!?"
"You seem rather annoyed about something, Jack," Tezoth calmly replies. "I took an interest in your trip since you first met about it in the diner."
This time it is not just Rose who looks surprised, but Weasel and Jack also.
"Oh come on," says Rose. "I definitely would've seen you that time!"
"I was in the back," Tezoth explains. "Bufkin came in asking for an atlas and I helped him find a globe instead. Afterwards, he told me what you were planning."
"Why were you in the back?" Wonders Weasel.
"Not that long ago I was in a diner where the staff were - let's just say - a little unfriendly; so I like to check who's behind the counter these days."
There's a struggle of comprehension for the three Tezoth relates this to, despite anyone being able to learn of those events.
"Why did you follow us to Tatai? Why not come with us instead of being so clandestine? How is it you're now in Siem Reap? How come--" Weasel is cut short in his extensive questioning by Tezoth interrupting.
"Stop a minute! You've got questions, I understand, there's a lot I probably should explain. We don't have time for it right now, though. I know, more or less, where Colin and Bufkin are, and we need to rescue them. I will answer you're questions at some point."
The entreaty is an honest one, and it shakes Rose, Jack, and Weasel out of their various states of reaction to Tezoth, whether it be surprise, puzzlement, or despondency.
"Go ahead, Tezoth," says Rose. "We're listening." They are.
"Right," Tezoth begins. "I wrote the note telling you to come -" Mr Weasel opens his mouth to ask a question, making Tezoth quickly carry on "- because I saw Bufkin and Colin being taken and couldn't think of a faster way to get you all here." Mr Weasel, ever the irritatingly inquisitive sort, makes a motion to issue another question, causing Tezoth's speaking rate to increase another notch. "I knew that here was to be this villa becauseyou discussed it at the diner and as I've said Bufkin told me. Anyway, being outnumbered, I had no hope of taking the kidnappers on with this gangly-mess of a body; I'm not yet used this human form again." Mr Weasel slowly raises his hand after Tezoth takes a pause for breath. "And yes,that's why I was sticking my legs out in the restaurant that night. I don't like folding my legs much - I'm used to them being bigger." The dragon looks down at those limbs of his and eyes them with uncertainty. As he tilts his head back up, he notes that something causing irritation appears to have dawned on Mr Weasel, for he seems set to interrupt once more. Tezoth is quicker again, however. "And yes! I have been stealing your glamours! Would you just let me finish, Weasel?!"
Mr Weasel is pleased his suspicions proved accurate and that he had managed to deduce who had be taking his glamours. On the other hand, he felt rather admonished for his questioning, and decide to keep quiet. For the time being.
"Now where was I?" Asks Tezoth.
"Somewhere around the part of saying you've been stalking us for days!" Snaps Jack.
"Really? I thought I'd moved on from that," Tezoth responds, while Rose gives Jack a sharp look. "Right, Bufkin and Colin. They were taken by Fables. Sure, they looked like Mundies, but you can sense another Fable and these five definitely were."
"Fables? What the fuck's going on?" Rose summed up succinctly what Weasel - and even Jack - were thinking. WTF indeed.
Tezoth went on to explain how he'd been walking along the wooden walkway that connects the tent-lodges of the 4 Rivers Floating Lodge site, going towards the tent-lodges that the five were staying in, when he heard a pig squeal. Quickening his pace, he saw six silhouettes appear from a tent, one carrying a small cage and two pulling something heavy behind them. Sensing that things were far from hunky-dory, he had nipped behind the side of a lodge, waiting for them to walk past; however they didn't. A minute later, he heard an outboard motor firing up. Rushing to the end of the walkway, the setting sun shone on the white side of a boat as it sped down the glistening river.
Going straight into the tent from which the six had come and finding it empty of life, he spied a note on a dresser explaining that the monkey and the pig had been taken to the 'Land of the Temples'. In addition, and rather oddly, Tezoth considered, the note also advised against worrying.
"Of course, I couldn't just leave things like that," Tezoth tells the three that have thus far been hooked on his every word. "So I wrote that note for you, as I figured that 'Land of the Temples' had to mean somewhere around here, and then I grabbed my things in a hurry flew after them."
It is Rose this time who has a question. "Why did you make the note so hard to read? It was a pain to decipher.!
"Sorry about that. It's the whole human form thing - writing in a hurry can be a bit tricky."
While the two discussed this, Weasel suddenly understands something. "You're a dragon!"
"Yes, I am," is the truthful reply.
"Huh. Fancy that," is all Weasel can make of it.
"Anyway," continues Tezoth, "I followed them through here, and carried on flying north for a little while, tracking them driving the same pick up truck they'd used since leaving the river. When they hit the jungle things got sketchy, and I didn't want to risk getting closer in case I was spotted."
Mr Weasel, sensing an opportunity to be of use, comments confidently that he'll go and get a map in order for all to clearly see where the kidnappers went.
"Sure," comes the dragon's reply.
While Mr Weasel visits the front desk, which is visible from where the others sit due to open doors, Rose and Tezoth chat a little.
"What are you really doing here, Tez?" Asks Rose.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you've been following us, yet keeping you're distance. It's hardly a coincidence you're in Cambodia if you overheard us talking about it, so why come?"
"Why, I was simply enchanted by the scent of a Rose." A cheeky smiles graces the thief's face, as he attempts to steer the conversation in another direction, despite having no destination in mind.
Jack, unable to stay under a figurative rain cloud much longer, closes his umbrella and shakes it over everyone else. "Do you have to keep doing that?" He directs this at Tezoth.
"Doing what?" The dragon is a touch confused.
"The whole flirting thing! With the smile -" here he mimics a painful fake "- the winks -" here, exaggerates an eye movement that even a blind-drunk baboon could get the gist of, "- and the whole 'ooh, scent of a rose'!" After this last comment, he wrinkles a corner of his nose and pulls a face at Tezoth. "Just change the record, already."
By a matching up of events that enables two similar things to be connected - or 'coincidence' - one of the managers of the villa walks past the lounge at the same moment, and overhears Jack's last comment. Fearing dissatisfaction from one of the guests, he hurries to a small room adjacent to the lounge, and commences in a frantic discussion.
A sudden break occurs in the background music, while Rose speaks angrily to Jack.
"We're friends, Jack. Good friends; he isn't flirting. That is flirting," and she points over to the desk Mr Weasel headed to in the procurement of a map. Due to the pause in music, he can be heard remarking to the woman behind the counter, - the same lady who served him with excellent advise and a drink the night before - on a fine choice of pen; the type with which one writes.
"Say," (he's trying to be oh-so-smooth in his seduction), "is that a a biro or a ball point?" He can bee seen to use it. "Oh my, it's a gel ah-ha-ha-ha." Attempting something reminiscent of a charming Prince's beguiling laugh he falls short; which would also suffice as a description of his whole attempt in general.
Background music begins again, this time led by the dulcet tones of a piano.
"Admittedly, it's a bad example," finishes Rose.
Tezoth feels some assurance should be given from his side. "Honestly, Jack, there's nothing going on between us."
"Really?" Confusion, and yet hope, for the giant-slayer.
"Really!" Confirms Rose. "So stop being such a dick."
"I... Yeah. Sorry." Jack, understandably ashamed, goes a hint of red and falls to silence; though this silence is a more agreeable sort than his last.
Mr Weasel now makes his way back to the sofa, a map in hand.
"So," Tezoth begins, looking at Weasel, "how did the pen work out?"
Mr Weasel appears momentarily puzzled as he'd quickly tried to put that brief conversation out of his mind, and sits down.
"Oh. Yeah. Turned out it was one of those pencils that looks like a pen." He looks downhearted. "Always thought those things were stupid," he adds.
"Maybe next time," Tezoth consoles, and he takes the map Weasel offers him.
Unfolding it, for the map covers a wide, contoured area and is normally condensed for ease, Tezoth finds their current location, points out the nearby Angkor Wat temples site, and then moves his finger some three centimeters along to an area designated as thick, forest hills and mountains.
"Couldn't they have picked an easier place to have a hideout?" Jack inquires, back to his usual cheery self.
"You're right Jack," answers Weasel, "it's bloody inconsiderate of them."
"Well, if we meet them, we can let them know," comes Tezoth's response.
"If we meet them," strikes up Rose, "I plan on clobbering them over the head with the nearest blunt object, and then making them suffer for what they've done." There was a light in her eyes that showed she was capable of more than just empty threats, and the three men present decided, not through words but via an innate understanding, that they should never personally cross her.
"I'm sure that's something we'll keep in mind, Rose," acknowledges the dragon with due respect. "Back to the map, it looks like we can make our way through these temples, over the fields, and into the jungle. Shouldn't more than a few hours walk."
"Can't we just, erm, fly on your back?" Asks Weasel. The reply of furrowed eyebrows and a shaking head gives an easy-to-understand response.
"Besides," comments Tezoth, "it'd be too cold for you at the height I'd have to fly to avoid being noticed."
"A walk it is then," Jack sums up.
"Best get ready for the jungle." Rose isn't entirely enthusiastic about the prospect, though she's still as determined as ever to rescue Colin and Bufkin.
"How will we find them once we're there? The place is huge." This is a good question from Jack.
Cryptically, Rose answers by simly saying, "Leave that to me;" and won't be persuaded to expand upon what that could mean.
"There's something I need to mention before we go," Weasel says with a hint of solemness. "Depending on how things go today, I'm not sure that I'll have enough glamours to make the trip back to New York."
"Unfortunately, Weasel, I have that same problem," replies Tezoth.
"Why didn't you bring any with you instead of stealing mine?"
"I did bring some with me! I lost them when I first went to the Lodges."
"Lost them?"
"Well, I was going along the river on an old boat, and I asked the pilot if we could stop near the riverbank for a moment, because I wanted to get an idea of just how dense the forest was. I'm gazing into the tangle of trees when suddenly a damn monkey launches this huge stick at me! Took me completely by surprise, making me stumble, and I somehow dropped the bag I had my glamours in over the side and into the river. The monkey wouldn't stop throwing bits of wood, so we quickly moved on and I guess they sunk to the bottom."
"You know," says Weasel, "I think I've met that very same monkey." Without realising it, both Tezoth and Weasel are now rubbing the parts of their head that were targeted by that deft-shot simian.
Jack's attention is not on the macaque, however, but on the glamours. "Can fish glamour?"
"I'm not sure," Rose answers. "There's gonna be some weird fish-people if they can."
While that image swims about in Jack's mind, Rose points out the important fact that Weasel will have to give his remaining glamours to Tezoth.
"What? Why?" He's rather possessive of the tubes.
"Because," explains Rose, "he can't help much if he's in perma-dragon mode."
"You could fly around though." True enough, from the Weasel.
"Not forever," Tezoth replies. "I'll have to land at some point. I'm sorry to have to take them Weasel." Despite being a thief, and a cunning one at that, the dragon is capable of genuine sympathy, such as in this case. All Fables who rely on glamours in order to live outside a very confined existence understand the desperate prospect of being stuck without one.
Mr Weasel does not like the situation, though he can see the validity in what's being said. "Fine." He sounds rather glum, and appears to have taken up a mood similar to Jack's previous. "Just do me a favour and let me go in one of your back-packs - I don't want to end up eaten by a tiger." Nor did he wish to be left behind at the villa.
"Or worse," remarks Jack, "sucked to death by one of those sticky plants." He pulls a face far worse than those he'd done not long since.
"Let's go and get ready then," says Rose.
"Sounds good to me," Jack comments, (and the comment sounded good to the manager who'd been standing on the other side of the open door, hoping his selection of music would prove to be preferable.)
"The game is on," rallies Tezoth, and they all march out of the room. Three march, at least; one seems unwilling to accept what he's got to do and lingers for a moment, before wandering back to his room.
Standing outside of Mr Weasel's room, Rose Red, Tezoth, and Jack are all set for the journey ahead. Though in different colours and styles, they all wear boots, shorts and t-shirts; while Jack and Rose wear hats that would look out-of-place anywhere other than the jungle - except the desert - and Tezoth wears a brown fedora made of wool, with an authentic pinch at the front. Having a rucksack each, they carry plenty of water, as well as food, a pair of socks (because who can abide soggy feet?) and general miscellany, such as a camera, or a collapsible spade.
"Okay, Weasel," calls Rose. "You can come out now."
The wooden door in front of them, which had only been opened a hair's breadth, slowly swings back, and before them on the dark floor stands nothing more, or less, than a weasel. With dark brown fur all over, except a tan streak down his underside, a dark patch around his right eye, and a black tip at his tail, the black-eyed and curved-eared appearance is a substantial change for Mr Weasel.
Rose has never seen Weasel in his natural form, and responds with an "Oh my!"
Tezoth hasn't seen much of Mr Weasel in any form, and so isn't particularly altered by the weasel in front of him.
Jack, meanwhile, could try harder to suppress a laugh.
The weasel looks at him irritably. "Don't say a word, Jack. Not. A damn. Word."
Jack doesn't say a word, though he carries on his guffawing behind a concealing hand.
"Who's carrying me then?" In tone, Mr Weasel could pass for a certain donkey by the way he says this.
"I suppose I should, seeing as you're partly stuck that way because of me." Tezoth slides his bag off and it hits the ground with a thunk. He unzips the main compartment and opens it wide for Weasel to get in.
While entering and making himself as comfortable as possible inside the cramped back-pack, Weasel asks if Tezoth be keeping the other glamours safe. Tezoth replies he is. Weasel then asks why Tezoth should have a collapsible spade is his back-pack, and Tezoth replies that Mr Weasel should be grateful there isn't a pickaxe in there too, otherwise his furry self might not fit.
"Best be going then." Weasel says without vigor.
"Oh, cheer up." This is more than a little rich coming from Jack, who carries on saying, "you're getting a free ride, you know."
A breeze wafts through the city of Siem Reap, preventing clouds from lingering and citizens from over-heating. A sky of blue and puffs of white cloud raise the spirits of the rescuers making their way to Angkor Wat via rickshaw.
Arriving at the temple at an unassuming car park, they begin strolling along a tree lined path. The usual accompaniment of birdsong entertains them, after which the marvels of the temples momentarily dwarf all other thoughts. Made of a dark stone, most of the structures stretch to a modest, domed height, enticing awe by another means than simple size. Carved into the fabric of their making, the edifices stare back with eyes, grow out of the stone with noses and smiling faces. Above gateways, guardians that shall forever watch over the paths so long as they remain stand, allowing passage. Trees grow on top of their own stone plinths, roots draping over the rock as hair might on a shoulder.
As they keep walking past structures built anything up to nine hundred years ago, a view of the main temple is snatched through intertwined branches, causing them to quicken pace to a clearing on the path. Here, the spectacle of magnificent stone pinnacles with curved and rounded columns, stands as it has done for centuries, surrounded by a glistening lake of water; it reflects the sun as a diamond necklace would, catching the light and radiating a purity.
If the reason for the visit here had been a part of the planned holiday, they would have wandered for hours; instead, the can only afford to spare minutes.
While taking photos for Mr Weasel, Rose - ever on the look out for anything that could improve their quest - spots bicycles for rent further down the path. Most of the temples in the area are linked via paths and tracks, so they each take a bike and begin peddling. The transport is not stealthy as they pick a way along the dried parts of the tree-lined passage, with squeaks and clicks aplenty. It being far quicker than walking, however, they're soon past the grey-mottled stones of Angkor Thom; away from the enchanting temple microcosm; and whizzing by grassy flatlands in which houses are dotted, as if dropped from the sky, or moving over bridges where water gurgles below. There are villages along the way, where tarmac gives the gift of a smooth ride, before the wheels become bouncy again along the less used routes.
Weasel, planning on enjoying what benefits he can from being in his natural state, pokes his head out of Tezoth's rucksack for much of the journey, allowing his fur to be ruffled by the breeze, and recovering from the stuffy climate of the bag. At times his tongue lolls out; and though he wouldn't appreciate such a comparison, the thought of a dog with it's head out of a car window does spring to mind.
Rose, Tezoth, and Jack chat about past times, plans for future times, and know that despite the cause for their current trip, they are enjoying themselves.
After an hour, they can see their target of the speckled-green forested hills and mountains, and after thirty minutes, they are within them.
All four travellers take a brief respite under the shade of a clump of trees, looking out over a land colored with the richness of life. Before setting out on foot once more, they discuss what, exactly, they're going to do next.
"So what's you're plan?" Weasel asks Rose, having in mind her comment back at the villa.
"Did the truck enter the forest around here?" Rose asks Tezoth, between mouthfuls of banana.
"More or less," answers the dragon.
"Then I'm going to track them."
Eyebrows are raised in response to this remark.
"Track them?" Inquires Jack.
"Yeah. You know, footprints and stuff. There's more to me than meets the eye, Jacky-boy," she gives him a wink.
Jack groans, "Please don't start talking like Bigby." The others chuckle in response.
"Anyway," Rose carries on, "give me a few minutes and I'll find them." She stands up, walks a little further down the track, scanning around with her eyes, and then enters the forest.
"Seriously," says Jack to Tezoth and Weasel, when Rose is out of ear-shot. "Does anyone know how come she can track?"
"Can't say as I do," answers Weasel.
"She's a woman of mystery," comments Tezoth.
They look at each other, and nod in agreement.
Rose inspects the leafy floor; the browns, yellows and greens transforming it into a mesmerizing confusion. She eyes marks and prints that all but those in the know would pass by, without even realizing the signs of another already having passed the same way. The heavy rain of the day before has flattened the mud out in places, however she is Rose Red, and Rose Red is a woman not easily perturbed.
She follows what looks to be boot-prints along a wide gap between the trees tangled in vines. Exotic and rare flowers grow through the moist earth, and battle for supremacy with the neighbours that surround them.
Following the trail for less than a minute, Rose finds a small thread of red cotton caught on a sharp branch, just below her neck. Though there is no evidence other than the trail and the thread, Rose is confident enough that this could be a promising lead, and she heads back to the others.
Tezoth and Mr Weasel listen to one of Jack's myriad anecdotes as Rose returns.
"So, I says to Mabel, I says -- oh, hey Rose!"
She raises her hand to Jack in acknowledgment. "Weasel, I need your nose."
The weasel in questions rises from his lounging position on the soft grass. "My nose?"
"Yeah. I've found and trail and I thought you might be able to smell Colin or Bufkin's scent. 'Cause weasels do that sort of thing."
"Okay. I'll give it a go."
In case it turns out to be the correct path for them, Jack and Tezoth decide to come too. Imagine, if you will, the sight of a single-file procession, at the front of which is a woman with blazing red hair - visible as she's taken her hat off - followed by a weasel; followed by a man resembling an adventuring archeologist; in turn followed by a man with blonde hair flowing down to his shoulders. It is not a sight of regularity.
Mr Weasel's nose proves reliable, as he detects the aroma of Colin and Bufkin that only a sensitive nose can do in a jungle. Afterwards, he hops back into Tezoth's back-pack. Rose leads them along the track she detects, stopping periodically to make sure they have not deviated, before continuing again. The climate inside the forest is, at first, the same as the others they have visited while in Cambodia: hot, humid, damp, noisy, and muddy. Teeming with life, also, and being so intense as to make one forget the rest of the world exists. As they travel further in, and higher up, these conditions become more acute, until they can hear nothing but wildlife calling, and the air seers like steam. It attains a pinnacle as they reach a ten foot high white rock face; they have to shout in order to be heard.
Jack looks around nervously. "What's happening?!"
"This doesn't feel natural!" Tezoth calls back.
"We have to keep going! They went this way, I know it!" Declares Rose. "Weasel, can you climb the rocks and see what's over them?"
Tezoth turns around so Weasel and Rose can communicate better. "I can give it a try," he pants.
Taking a glug of warm water from the bottle he's kept in the bag with him, he's helped on his way by Tezoth, who - when asked to - throws him onto a ledge. Being highly selective in his route, Weasel is slow yet sure in his ascent. He kicks furiously with his back legs upon reaching the top, in order to get over.
And when he's over, what a difference in atmosphere. Silence. A slight drop in temperature, making the air feel much less hostile; trees are adorned with flowers colored in hues that seem to vary in range more than a rainbow. It's as if he's stepped into another world. Looking back over the rock face, he can see his friends suffering in the dissonance and heat below, fingers in ears or fanning madly with a magazine.
"Hey!" Weasel calls down, yet they cannot hear him. "HEY!" He tries again, with as much success as before. To his right are some loose pebbles, which he knocks down with his paw; three land next to the trio below without them noticing. It is only the fourth, which took a slightly different way down to it's stone-y brethren, landing on Tezoth's head, that receives attention.
The dragon looks up, unhappy at having his focus brought about in such a manner. Weasel merely waves a paw, beckoning Tezoth and the others up. After five minutes, and taking in cuts, scrapes, and bruises, all are at the top and silent for a time that feels much longer than it is.
"This is... weird," says Tezoth.
"Nice though," replies Jack. "Much nicer than down there at least."
Rose quickly breaks out of her peaceful trance, and studies the ground. "They definitely came this way; here's a footprint." And sure enough, the unmistakable grooved impression of a boot was visible in the moist mud.
"They went that-a way," and she nods straight forward. All stare in that direction, half expecting a revealing rustle in the leaves or branches, alerting them to the kidnappers' presence. There is none, of course.
Weasel gets back into Tezoth's bag once more, and they all walk with care along the route Rose dictates. The silence which at first inspired soothing in their minds now weighs down on their thoughts; it's preternatural quality unnerving. The plant life seems unusual also - polka-dots of red, green, blue, and many more decorate petals the shape of fleur-de-lis and stars, while stems pulsate with neon color. At first, the trees seem similar to those native of the country, yet watching one for longer than a few seconds reveals the branches to be actively moving - wrapping, twisting and swaying, without any influence from the wind.
Tezoth, who is about to comment on the fragrant smell is stopped short. Jack, wondering whether or not to pick a flower for Rose, is brought out of his considerations abruptly. Rose, sure she has found pig tracks, has her attention snatched away. Weasel, rummaging through Tezoth's bag out of curiosity, suddenly sticks his head out of it's top, ears pricked.
A dull thud caused these breaks in the activities of the four. Two seconds later, another can be heard. The ground shakes; the branches quiver and go stiff. The air is still; there is nothing other than the thud.
Until a voice, deep and resonating, rings out through the forest. "Fee. Fi. Fo. Fum!"
Jack recognizes this phrase instantly. "Uh-oh."
"I smell the blood of a Fable-man." The breath is caught in the throats of the rescuers; the suspense exacerbated by a pause in the thuds and the voice, before it cries. "And a dragon! Buw-whar-um." This last part was more a single noise than group of words, and sounded like a throaty manifestation of the voice's - or rather, the creature who's voice it is - displeasure.
The thud recommences. Jack, for the most part realising what is coming their way, shouts at Tezoth and Rose. "Fly you fools! Run!"
"But, Jack --" starts Rose.
"Go!" It was out of the ordinary that Jack Horner should ostensibly volunteer to be left behind in the face of an unknown danger so readily, yet this is what he was doing.
Observing a surprising confidence in Jack's demand, Tezoth with Weasel and Rose - not without hesitation - dive into the forest to their left. Seconds later, and still running, they glance back to see Jack standing face to face with a very large, and very wooden, giant.
Rose and Tezoth, with Weasel in his bag, keeping running for ten minutes before they dare stop in a thicket; and, puffing, talk.
"What the hell was that thing?" Asks Tezoth.
"I think it was a giant." Says Rose. "A proper giant, not just a random tall person."
"I feel very small," is all Weasel says.
"What about Jack?" Rose sounds worried.
"He's the giant-slayer, I'm sure he'll be fine." Tezoth doesn't actually sound so sure of this, however.
"I guess. We should keep moving, right? Keep looking for Colin and Bufkin?"
"I think so. I mean, yes! It's why we're here, and I think that giant confirms that here is where we need to be." Bold and authoritative when needed is the dragon thief. "The trees don't seem so thick over there; we might be able to see where we are." The spot to which he refers would be but a few moments away as the crow flies, or even as a dragon flies; however in the thick jungle it takes much longer, and things aren't helped by the branches that stroke them.
After a while, Mr Weasel decides that light conversation may help keep things going - for Rose and Jack are having a tricky time in moving forward - and so he instigates it.
"Tezoth," he begins, poking his head out of a gap in the dragon's back-pack, "why do you have a stick of dynamite in your bag?"
Obviously, this caught Rose's attention. "Dynamite? Are you sure, Weasel?" Tezoth remains silent for now and keeps on forcing his way onwards.
"I am, Rose." Weasel replies. "I've been rummaging around in here for a while now, and not long ago I came across a sock right at the bottom; the scent of it was different to any other socks I've smelt. Having my curiosity piqued, I pulled at it, and, bringing it into the light, noted the telltale red and shape of dynamite." Weasel says this with a peculiar calmness, considering he's been sitting on top of it.
"Why do you have a stick of dynamite, Tezoth?" Asks Rose, this time.
"Did I say you could go 'rummaging' in there, Weasel?" Is his first response.
"Well, you never said not to. I felt I should become acquainted with my mode of transport."
"I'm more than just a mode of transport, thanks."
"I didn't mean it like that!"
There's no speaking as Rose and Tezoth clamber over a fallen tree and walk along thick branches, as the ground level is too overgrown to pass through.
"The reason I have dynamite," explains Tezoth while he and Rose jump to the ground and move on, "is in case of emergencies."
"Hmm," considers Mr Weasel. "I don't think I'd like to become familiar with those emergencies."
For Rose, her wild-streak shines through, saying that, "You never know, Weasel. It might be quite fun." She gives him a wink. Mr Weasel finds it unnerving; Tezoth finds in encouraging.
Hearing no more giant related noise, they press on and eventually reach a spot with less plant density, and can see their surroundings. It isn't what they expected. The forest they have gone through is atop a high rim; in front of them is a fair drop to a valley, and in it a large lake shimmers. The sun has begun to set, and looks set to be perfectly framed when it reaches the horizon by the two mountains at the other end of the valley. Looking to their right, they can see plateaus going up the slope, which would have enabled the giant to reach them earlier. The nearest plateau to the rim seems around one hundred feet below it, which isn't very near at all; the giant, therefore, must live up to it's name.
The sight is amazing, and daunting.
"Next time," speaks up Rose, "we're going to Cuba and staying on a beach. Agreed?" The other two agree.
Tezoth gazes thoughtfully at the lake. "I'd bet money on that being where we need to go. Seems significant, don't you think?"
"I'd say so," assents Rose.
"I can't actually see anything," comes a quiet voice from Tezoth's back. Mr Weasel, you see, had not yet recovered from the thought of being squashed by a brute of a giant.
Tezoth takes his rucksack off and plants it on the floor. "Come on Weasel!" He says. "What would Bigby say if he saw you now?"
"Why does everything always come back to him?" Asks Mr Weasel.
"I dunno," says Rose. "It just does."
As the sun begins to set on the land we call Cambodia, dear reader, so does this tale arc towards it's end. Before the sun rises again, events will be almost entirely over.
Things go smoothly on the descent down the valley side, until they reach one of the plateaus. As is hopefully shown, the place Tezoth, Rose, Weasel walk through is touched with things not originally from our Mundy world, and so the unexpected was to be expected.
Stumbling over a hidden log, Rose collides into Tezoth, and the pair - with Weasel caught in the middle - tumble down the leafy slope, landing with speed into a clearing. Being of a low angle, the orange sunlight cuts horizontally through the trees, and shadows rise around them.
Rose gets to her feet, helping Tezoth up afterwards. She quickly looks into his dark back-pack. "Weasel, are you okay?"
A black, tufted tail curls out in response, telling her that the weasel is upside down. Then there's a muffled reply. "I'm real peachy, thanks, Rose. Yourselves?"
"I'm fine. Are you, Tez?"
Tezoth winces as Weasel manoeuvres himself. "I landed funny on my shoulder."
"Shall I carry Weasel for a while?" Asks Rose.
"Please."
"Come on, Weasel. In you get." She lowers her bag as Tezoth does the same with his, and Mr Weasel sets about making himself comfortable in the orange rucksack.
"Thanks," he replies.
A rhinoceros, at the edge of the clearing and in the shade, has been watching while this transpires. Mundies do not normally make it into this part of the world; these look similar to Mundies, yet there is something different about them. Coming to the conclusion that their presence needs to be investigated, it announces as such and begins coming over.
In the dimming light, the loud grunt of a wild rhino, which proceeds to come towards one, can induce anxiety. This occasion was no exception in that regard, and as the rhino quickened pace, - in order to stop the people from escaping before it had time to question them - to Rose and Tezoth and Weasel, the creature appeared to be charging at them.
"Run!" A verb shouted by all three at once, and they sprint towards the woods.
"I don't wish to alarm you," Weasel shouts from Rose's back-pack, over the snapping of branches and the heavy stamping of feet, "however, the rhinoceros is getting closer... closer still... . It's quite close now!"
Rose points, while moving with great speed. "Head into the forest, Tezoth! We might be able to lose it in there"
"I'm not sure that'll stop it!" After saying this, Weasel bobs ever lower in Rose's bag.
They sprint into the forest; faces get slapped by thick leaves, arms cut by thrusting branches, and legs stumble on grasping roots. The rhino soon enters after them, decreasing in energy as it has to smash through the surroundings.
"I have an idea!" Yells Tezoth. "Weasel, there are some caltrops in my back-pack!"
"Cat drops?" Replies Mr Weasel, rising a little to be heard. "I don't think rhinos like cat food!"
"Not cat drops, you deaf ferret! Caltrops! Those spiky things."
"How dare you! I, Percival Mintwood Weasel, am no common ferret!"
"That's you're name?!"
Rose, being aware of the urgency their situation demands, yells that now is not the time for that conversation.
Tezoth leans in a little closer, while the rhino still ploughs forward, the thick vegetation the barrier to it's catching them.
Tezoth, though having his shoulder in pain, knows that he must momentarily grin and bear it. Or at the very least bear it: grinning at a charging rhinoceros doesn't have much of a beneficial effect. "Jump into my bag, Weasel!"
"Sod off!" He replies.
"Weasel, we're going to be skewered if you don't!" Rose's shouting has the desired effect of motivating Weasel, for he realizes just how right she is.
"If I get trampled," he let's them both know, "you are not getting my collection of antique spoons!" Then, he makes his way out of the bag and onto Rose's shoulder. Bouncing through the jungle, dodging low branches and vaulting high logs, Weasel has to reckon well on his timing, for there won't be another chance. After a hard landing the two runners lose some speed, and so now Weasel leaps.
He is successful, diving head-first into the dragon's rucksack; in which various thieving related items bounce around. Ignoring lock-picks that keep poking him, Weasel finds the caltrops wrapped up in a corner. He unwraps them, and sticks his head up, to see the rhino even closer.
"Just throw them on the ground, yes?" He asks.
"Yes," replies Tezoth.
Mr Weasel does so, and two branch snaps he later relates to Tezoth and Rose the results. "Rhinos are impervious to caltrops!"
"Is it still close?" Asks Rose.
"I think it's getting tired! Wait. It seems to be getting a second wind!"
"Since when do rhino's get a second wind?!" Tezoth asks this more out of irritation than a sense of zoological investigation.
"Since now!" Replies Rose.
Tezoth feels his breathing become painful, lungs screaming for oxygen. "We can't keep going much longer!"
"Don't worry," Weasel tells them. "I have a highly improbable plan!"
"Which is?" Rose asks.
Weasel does not reply. Trying to summon the courage and fast-thinking his improbable plan is about to call for, he simply stares at the rhinoceros for four seconds. Then he jumps, legs outstretched for a passing branch; clawing to stay on the mossy bark, the weasel then scurries along to where the branch grows from the tree. Five seconds later, he leaps and lands - improbably - on to the rhino's head
"Mha-ha!" Weasel triumphantly cries, almost losing his footing in the glory of the moment; he has to quickly fasten his paws around the rhinoceros' horn.
"Take this, you horny bastard!" Weasel shouts. "Hang on, that doesn't quite sound right. Oh, never mind," and he pulls the horn to the right, while shoving his rear paws into the rhino's eyes. Seconds later there's the sound of a heavy smash, with a knocked-out rhino, and a dazed weasel.
Rose and Tezoth cheer Mr Weasel, as he begins to move forward with his head still metaphorically spinning, until the weasel falls down a hole.
___________________________________________________________ ___________________
"Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?" Tezoth and Rose, crouching over the hole, can hear Weasel saying this from wherever it leads to.
"Are you okay?" Tezoth calls out.
"I don't do snakes! The room's lit though."
Rose looks to Tezoth, "The room?"
He shrugs, shouting back down, "I thought weasels killed snakes?"
"You're thinking of mongoose!" Comes the reply. "Mongeese. Mongooses?" Mr Weasel is not sure of the plural.
Up top, the rhino snorts.
"I think we might be joining you!" Yells Tezoth, who then turns to Rose. "Can you find a spade in my back-pack?" She reaches in and finds it straight away.
"Want me to dig?" She asks, mindful of Tezoth's injury.
"No, no. I can manage." A gentleman thief.
After the hole is widened, the two descend into the torch-lit room that Mr Weasel stands in the middle of, and where two snakes rest in a corner. It's small, with stone walls; yellow and red flames dance across the scenes carved into the black rock, showing the ceremonies and deaths, life and times, of a Fable world. They realize this more clearly as they journey through corridors and passageways of a similar appearance, all the while heading lower and lower into the Earth, till they are on a level with the valley floor. They find no one else as they walk, until they suddenly find orange light, and exit before a lake.
Here, quite unexpectedly, around the lakeside is gathered an array of animals, including Bufkin and Colin; Jack - though he be no animal; and zebras, giraffes, crocodiles, panthers, leopards, tigers, bears, elephants; in short, a great variety of species, for there were many more. Heads turn to the strangers. Tezoth, Rose, and Weasel are quite unsure what to do. Standing still, a brilliant flash of light momentarily blinds them.
Bigby looks out over the Pacific Ocean, contemplating the vastness of it all. After a while, he turns to the person sitting in the adjacent seat.
"Do you remember what I said back at the diner?" His question is audible above the whirring of the engines which propel them through the sky, however Mr Weasel doesn't react. Bigby sees he has headphones on, and so forcibly removes them.
Weasel is annoyed at such a sudden interruption to his auditory enjoyment. "What?"
"Do you remember what I said back at the diner?"
Weasel's eyes narrow, as he realizes he doesn't, though he probably should. "Nooo."
"I said: don't make me have to go on a rescue mission. That was one my favor. Did I ask for a souvenir? No. A postcard? Nuh-uh. To look at your holiday snaps?" Bigby eyes the camera in Weasel's lap, before it's hurriedly pocketed, "no again. But I have to rescue you."
The seat in front of them leans back a degree as Tezoth lays his arms on top of it, and his chin on top of his arms. "In fairness," he says, "you never said that to me."
"And just how did you end up here, anyway?"
"Honestly, Sheriff? I'd heard rumors of a great hidden treasure near Siem Reap just waiting to be pillaged. Knowing the others were coming would provide me with some cover in case things went wrong, I thought; my plan was to use the river lodge as a base, and fly over to the city to search it out. I I could fly back and be out of the danger zone, if something wasn't right. Then I got caught up in rescuing Colin and Bufkin. You know," he adds "it's no small thing to be rescuing rescuers, Sheriff."
In his usual dry manner, Bigby merely says that, "I'll be sure to put that on my CV."
Weasel had been listening to Tezoth's explanation, and so had Rose from the seat behind; she leans forward. "That makes a lot of sense now. You could have just told us though." She and Tezoth exchange looks that show one party is a little hurt, and the other is sorry.
"Did you find the treasure, then?" Inquires Bigby.
"No," answers Tezoth. "Turned out it was one of those metaphorical treasures; I'm not so much a fan of those."
Jack leans across the isle, opposite to Weasel. "We did find a forgotten land of Fables, Tez. That's gotta count for something."
"It wasn't lost to them," Bigby is spot on here.
"Well, no," agrees Tezoth, "however, no one else had been there for centuries."
"And how did they get there?" Sheriff Bigby is always fond of asking questions.
"There used to be a gate to the Homelands," Rose answers. "Closed centuries ago, but many Fables related to that part of the Mundy world managed to get through, along with a river that poured in while the gate was still opened, which formed the lake we told you about."
"This blinding lake?"
"That was the sun bouncing off it," Tezoth informs him. "Magical water and a geographical framing of the sunset combined."
"Sounds like quite the adventure."
"Did I mention the giant?" Jack eagerly asks.
"Five times now," answers the Sheriff.
Regardless, Jack tells him again. "I'd met part of it before, and it's such a rare type! Even in the Homelands they were hard to find; it must be the last of it's species. When an intruder is detected, the enchanted trees come together and form a giant to protect the land! Some of those trees I'd walked by back in my giant-slaying days."
"Hence the fee, fi, fo stuff?"
"Yep - it new I'd respond to that. Those trees are very clever."
"I don't know: they let you all go."
"Thanks, Sheriff," says Rose. "It was me that got us out."
"Turns out another one of Rose's many hidden talents is being very charismatic and persuasive," Weasel remarks.
"Yeah, well, if her sister's anything to by, then --" Bigby stops short after a stabbing glare from Rose, for the Sheriff knows Rose can do more than just look stabby.
"Do you think Bufkin and Colin are okay in the hold?" Tezoth wonders.
"Yeah," says Weasel. That's how they travelled the first time."
The Sheriff is surprised Colin agreed to that, and says as much.
Weasel has his eyes on the floor. "Yeah. I had to promise him an awful lot of stuff. Say," he looks up, "does anyone know where I can find a bottomless beer keg?"
No one does.
"Oh dear," says Weasel.
"That pig cannot go anywhere without trying to be taken back to some sort of farm," Tezoth comments. "After everything, it turns out that's why they were taken; that macaque that attack Weasel and I had ran off --"
"Because it's a prick," interjects Weasel, who had another run in with it and still bore the bruises to show for it.
"-- and when they went out to get it back - being effectively glamoured using their own magic -- it told them about Colin and Bufkin."
"Speaking of glamours," the Sheriff looks at Tezoth and Weasel, "make sure you take enough next time; I'm not going to come get you again because you've both ran out."
"It wasn't our fault," implores Weasel.
"Would you rather we be stuck there?" Asks Tezoth.
Bigby mumbles. "I guess not." His response puts a smile on everyone's faces, and they sit back in their seats.
Mr Weasel thinks it polite to ask the Sheriff how he has got on. "Anything new happen while we've been away, Sheriff? Everything okay?"
Bigby turns to him with wide eyes. "Did you know that there are over one thousand species of bamboo?"
This is the end of the holiday for our adventurous six. When Bufkin got home he took up photography, and still takes pictures of an increasingly irritated Snow White, who doesn't like having her picture taken quite so often. Colin returned to a thriving bamboo plant, and though he knows it isn't the same one he left, he's appreciative of the gesture and pretends to not notice. Rose and Jack soon become a couple, and it's thanks to them that - in a way - the stories really begin. Tezoth continues the life of a thieving dragon, and just happened to forget to mention the various bits of treasure he did actually find in the lost valley. And as for Mr Weasel, his story will end another day.
Thanks again for reading!
Damn, that was... amazing. No, far from amazing, it was excellent, fantastic, superb, extraordinary! You've really outdone yourself this time, Noir - and you've really brought my character to life, good show!
Fun fact: I actually was going to include Rose in my next chapter for Tez, too. :P
EDIT: Happy Birthday to you! I wish the absolute best for you.
Nice way to start!
Ugh! That sounds good actually! Might do that for lunch today! XD Psssh! Here I am eating Burger King! lol
Bigby's final sentence made me chuckle. Could picture him being serious!
This was a great read and this helped calm my nerves over the storm of homework and essays I've been consumed with.
It was a fun adventure. Very detailed and excellent, Noir.
Oh, its your birthday! Happy birthday to you!
Well writen as always
Thanks fellas! pudding_pie. Just wanted to say that I've been watching this thread the past couple of days and have followed your story. Yours is extremely well written, and I do enjoy the graphics that you've drawn!
DragonButter, it's great you created this thread to further enrapture the community into the Fables-verse. I am glad/honored to be a part of it!