Goldie and Wendy are identical twins (Goldie has brighter hair) so she can easily play both :P
Maybe change who plays Yellow Bastard, Weasel doesn't seem right for it...
The movies were pretty good imo, it had an all-star cast (literally) and really captured the essence of the comics. Both films are black and white, but the colour is present where it should be like in the books.
I'm still not sure about this, but let's see what happens.
I can see Penelope being either Goldie or Wendy. I love Georgie as 'Jackie Boy', too. XD XD I think Luke would make a great John Hartigan bu… moret again, that is your call. Weasel is yellow bastard. XD XD LMFAO @JJWolf you'll love who Robert is.
This sounds interesting, man. I've only read the books. Heard the movie was crap. :(I may need to go back and refreash my memory now. Can't wait.
Same here! I always found Wonderland awesome due to its weird ways! Yeah if they had listened to reason Luke wouldn't have done that. Glad you like the story and cat so far Lupine! XD
You're really channeling the bizarreness of Wonderland! It's one of my favourite places because it's so weird.:D Kinda feel sorry for the tr… moreees - they had a legitimate reason to be angry - however, they obviously weren't going to have a calm chat about it. Enjoying the helpfulness of the Cheshire Cat! XD
Hey everyone, I'm going to write a short story based on Sin City, but with Fables characters, after I finish Devils and Demons, and I was wo… morendering who would be best for the roles of each character.
Atm, I do not have everyone ready:
* John Hartigan - Haven't decided, maybe Luke or Bigby?
* Marv - My OC Nick
* Dwight McCarthy - Haven't decided, maybe Tezoth or Draco?
* Nancy Callahan - Haven't decided
* Miho - Catherine
* Goldie and Wendy - Penelope Porgie?
* Kevin - Robert
* Gail - Lyla Porgie
* Det. Lt. Jack 'Jackie Boy' Rafferty - Georgie Porgie
* Becky - Harmony
* Roark Junior/Yellow Bastard - Mr. Weasel (in glamour of course)
* The Salesman - My OC Rook
* Manute - My OC Sebastien
Basically, I need help on deciding who is best for each role, both OC's and comic/game characters. I would really appreciate all your input! XD
Of course, in the end I may not write it all... but let's see how far I get with the plot. Also, it will not be a direct rip of the film.
Ah this sounds interesting! But I've never seen or read the comics either, but from what you said to dragon about John, Luke or Bigby could fit that role but that's up to you man.
Hey everyone, I'm going to write a short story based on Sin City, but with Fables characters, after I finish Devils and Demons, and I was wo… morendering who would be best for the roles of each character.
Atm, I do not have everyone ready:
* John Hartigan - Haven't decided, maybe Luke or Bigby?
* Marv - My OC Nick
* Dwight McCarthy - Haven't decided, maybe Tezoth or Draco?
* Nancy Callahan - Haven't decided
* Miho - Catherine
* Goldie and Wendy - Penelope Porgie?
* Kevin - Robert
* Gail - Lyla Porgie
* Det. Lt. Jack 'Jackie Boy' Rafferty - Georgie Porgie
* Becky - Harmony
* Roark Junior/Yellow Bastard - Mr. Weasel (in glamour of course)
* The Salesman - My OC Rook
* Manute - My OC Sebastien
Basically, I need help on deciding who is best for each role, both OC's and comic/game characters. I would really appreciate all your input! XD
Of course, in the end I may not write it all... but let's see how far I get with the plot. Also, it will not be a direct rip of the film.
Hey everyone, I'm going to write a short story based on Sin City, but with Fables characters, after I finish Devils and Demons, and I was wo… morendering who would be best for the roles of each character.
Atm, I do not have everyone ready:
* John Hartigan - Haven't decided, maybe Luke or Bigby?
* Marv - My OC Nick
* Dwight McCarthy - Haven't decided, maybe Tezoth or Draco?
* Nancy Callahan - Haven't decided
* Miho - Catherine
* Goldie and Wendy - Penelope Porgie?
* Kevin - Robert
* Gail - Lyla Porgie
* Det. Lt. Jack 'Jackie Boy' Rafferty - Georgie Porgie
* Becky - Harmony
* Roark Junior/Yellow Bastard - Mr. Weasel (in glamour of course)
* The Salesman - My OC Rook
* Manute - My OC Sebastien
Basically, I need help on deciding who is best for each role, both OC's and comic/game characters. I would really appreciate all your input! XD
Of course, in the end I may not write it all... but let's see how far I get with the plot. Also, it will not be a direct rip of the film.
I think Bigby is better suited tbh, John is older and does everything by the book. Now Bigby is a maverick sometimes, but Luke sounds a bit too 'out there' to be Hartigan...
I haven't read the books either, but I thought the films were excellent!
Ah this sounds interesting! But I've never seen or read the comics either, but from what you said to dragon about John, Luke or Bigby could fit that role but that's up to you man.
I think Bigby is better suited tbh, John is older and does everything by the book. Now Bigby is a maverick sometimes, but Luke sounds a bit too 'out there' to be Hartigan...
I haven't read the books either, but I thought the films were excellent!
I'm glad you have faith in me :P I think I will watch Sin City again before I start though... I do remember most of the film, but some of the details have escaped me.
I intend on eventually doing Robert and RJ, and probably Gren just for kicks XD Pie absolutely loved them, which means I guess I'm pretty good at it! lol
WAIT A SECOND -- is it Carla? (If you explained this and I've not read that chapter yet, this is going to look like the most idiotic eureka moment ever XD). Maybe it's not Carla, but that thought struck me at the end and I just had to say something. Anyway, Hades seems like a good villain, sitting with his Scotch, but it's interesting that his motives don't necessarily seem out-right evil. There's the thing with Vivian and Cerberus, however, he is in charge of the Underworld.
Both Emily and Gren listening to that Snow Patrol song: can't help but be just a bit moved by that :')
Edit: Rosie looks like a real hit of happiness. And enjoy the get-together!
Kingdom of the Underworld..."
"No one told me about the other girl..."
Hades sat in his chair, drank a rather large glass of Scotch an… mored picked at a Chicken sandwich. Valeo flapped beside him; neither knew the girls' powers were connected and what you did to one, the other followed.
"Red lied to me..."
"Sire, perhaps she had no idea that-"
"How could she have not known?!" Hades tosses the glass against the wall. "HOW, Valeo, could Vivian have been co clever enough to mask the child for so long and keep her here, without ME taking her back!?"
Valeo immediatly picks up the broken glass. It had been centuries he'd seen his master frustrated and prepared for any drastic measure, should it be needed. Hades knew of gains, losses and heartache. Ceberus was his true friend and companion. He was married at one time. Her name was Persephone and she was beautiful beyond any words or ability to comprehend. She did her best to stay by Had… [view original content]
I can see Penelope being either Goldie or Wendy. I love Georgie as 'Jackie Boy', too. XD XD I think Luke would make a great John Hartigan bu… moret again, that is your call. Weasel is yellow bastard. XD XD LMFAO @JJWolf you'll love who Robert is.
This sounds interesting, man. I've only read the books. Heard the movie was crap. :(I may need to go back and refreash my memory now. Can't wait.
NOOOO! :0 No, no, no, no, no, no!!!! I know who the redhaired girl is!!! I thought it was rose red but its not! OMG!!!! That bitch! UGH! I can't wait to see what happens to her now! >:(
I love those pictures! The first on is too cute! Hmmm....so, Hades was working with the red haired woman, too? I wonder why. Perhaps it has to do with the quads and emily. She's after the bow, I know that. But why....
HOW precious! Taking the babies to work with him. I always feel sad when you go back and talk about Emily's past, although Ithought it was cute when they both listened to the song. I love that. I love them. I adore Gremily Can't wait for more!
Kingdom of the Underworld..."
"No one told me about the other girl..."
Hades sat in his chair, drank a rather large glass of Scotch an… mored picked at a Chicken sandwich. Valeo flapped beside him; neither knew the girls' powers were connected and what you did to one, the other followed.
"Red lied to me..."
"Sire, perhaps she had no idea that-"
"How could she have not known?!" Hades tosses the glass against the wall. "HOW, Valeo, could Vivian have been co clever enough to mask the child for so long and keep her here, without ME taking her back!?"
Valeo immediatly picks up the broken glass. It had been centuries he'd seen his master frustrated and prepared for any drastic measure, should it be needed. Hades knew of gains, losses and heartache. Ceberus was his true friend and companion. He was married at one time. Her name was Persephone and she was beautiful beyond any words or ability to comprehend. She did her best to stay by Had… [view original content]
WAIT A SECOND -- is it Carla? (If you explained this and I've not read that chapter yet, this is going to look like the most idiotic eureka … moremoment ever XD). Maybe it's not Carla, but that thought struck me at the end and I just had to say something. Anyway, Hades seems like a good villain, sitting with his Scotch, but it's interesting that his motives don't necessarily seem out-right evil. There's the thing with Vivian and Cerberus, however, he is in charge of the Underworld.
Both Emily and Gren listening to that Snow Patrol song: can't help but be just a bit moved by that :')
Edit: Rosie looks like a real hit of happiness. And enjoy the get-together!
Weasel! (You might want to zoom out a little on your browser to get a better view on the shading - apologies for it being a huge picture)
Went for 'The After Eight' moustache on this occasion, but I may do the others in future drawings.
And I've got a chapter to post! Actually wrote this back in January; for a few reasons I'm finding writing not too easy at the moment, and this time-travelling story is not at all anywhere near finished, but in posting this I can finally stop worrying whether or not to use this chapter to start, so that'll help. XD
It's opening with Mr. Weasel looking as he is above, but the story won't focus just on him. When the rest of the chapters will be posted I've no idea, so thanks for any patience you have.
Chapter One – in which instincts are disregarded for a lady's sake.
The door to my apartment looked the same as it had always done. The '32' sign of wrought-iron was hammered on to it in the same high spot; the wood shone as usual where the candlelight bounced against the varnish; the brass knob had flecks of green patina. Same door, same Woodlands.
Then I opened the door. And now I'm trying to decide whether or not I regret doing so.
The name's Percival Mintwood Weasel, by the way, just in case you've forgotten the whole thing.
clears throat I think I realised pretty quickly that something wasn't right. The living room was – ah, sorry – the living room is bigger than I remember it being and, irrelevant of the size, it's filled with furniture of a sort that I've never seen before. The colours of the walls; the fabrics; the carpet; the sun shone on all this peculiar décor – I'm told it's all rather contemporary, rather stylish. “Modern with period features,” apparently. Whatever it is, it's not my idea of modern. But I suppose it is your modern.
Initially, I wondered if I'd mistakenly opened the door to another's apartment – Beauty and Beasts', maybe; they're always up on the latest fashions – or, at least, they were. As I said, though, I knew it was my door and so I knew it must be my apartment. A few seconds went by while I attempted to process this unexpected and sudden alteration, and just as I had decided to step out and close the door with the hopes that upon reopening it things would be back to normal, something even more unexpected occurred. Cindy appeared at the doorway to what I presumed was still the kitchen, wearing a purple“tea shirt” (I didn't ask at the time – is it for drinking tea in?) and shorts of “denim” that were frayed around the ends. They were short shorts. Until that moment the most I'd seen of her other than what is taken to be publicly descent were her ankles, and now here she was in my apartment wearing very shortshorts. Since when did women start wearing shorts? Since when did they get so small? (Shorts, I mean – not women.) You know, I'm still struggling to get over that sight. For one or two reasons.
Momentary silence
Oh, right, yes! Sorry, got distracted there. Upon seeing Cindy I was so effected my mind momentarily hit a metaphorical wall and decided the best thing to do would be to drop my jaw, and drop my jaw did. Cindy walked over to me in that charmingly dainty manner she has and came to a stop a few feet away; a smile lit up her already glowing face. And then she jumped at me! I realise now that her motive for doing so was a loving embrace, however, my first instinct was to raise my walking stick in a defensive position. With glad relief I can say that my second instinct – to catch her – prevailed over the first, and so the walking stick in my right hand toppled to the floor as I held my arms open and received Cindy directly into them, with her legs fastening tightly around my waist. A Fable with less equanimity might have justifiably encountered a heart-attack if such a fair maiden were to unexpectedly appear and proceed to leap at them, but we weasels are blessed with high fortitude and adept hand-to-eye coordination – it's just a thing we've got going on, you know. Feel free to remember that for future reference, if you like.
“Where has that moustache come from?” She asked inquisitively while still in my arms. (I shan't mimic her voice, you can imagine it for yourself.) “And why are you wearing those clothes? You didn't have them on earlier” Her tone took on a slight suspicious intent. Then she shrugged, gave me a peck of a kiss, and after looked at me expectantly. “You can put me down now.”
By this point, any ability of mine to build a comprehensible sentence had turned to dust, so I simply carried her over to the nearest chair and placed her in it. My utter silence being uncharacteristic, Cindy was starting to sense that something was particularly awry, (apparently the new 'tache and change of clothes wasn't enough to out-right prompt it however - goodness knows what one reads into that). “Are you okay, Percy?” There was genuine concern in her voice but again I gave no reply; my attention had been unswervingly caught by a calendar hung on the wall next to the kitchen island and something was calling me to it.
I took it down, ignoring the various photographs of the world that adorned the five pages I had to go back through to find my answer.
2014.
I placed the calendar on a marbled counter and walked back out the front door, shutting it behind me. Closed my eyes and took a deep breath in and out. Then I opened my eyes, spun around and opened the door. The same sight as last time, and Cinderella leaned her head to look out into the corridor with a raised eyebrow of misgiving.
It had been 1883 last time I left my apartment. I'd only gone back to get my hat.
Weasel! (You might want to zoom out a little on your browser to get a better view on the shading - apologies for it being a huge picture)
… more
Went for 'The After Eight' moustache on this occasion, but I may do the others in future drawings.
And I've got a chapter to post! Actually wrote this back in January; for a few reasons I'm finding writing not too easy at the moment, and this time-travelling story is not at all anywhere near finished, but in posting this I can finally stop worrying whether or not to use this chapter to start, so that'll help. XD
It's opening with Mr. Weasel looking as he is above, but the story won't focus just on him. When the rest of the chapters will be posted I've no idea, so thanks for any patience you have.
Chapter One – in which instincts are disregarded for a lady's sake.
The door to my apartment looked the same as it had always done. The '32' sign of wrought-iron was hammered on to it in the sa… [view original content]
Dwight is one of the 3 protagonists of the first film:
* John Hartigan is a veteran cop pushing 60, he is by the book and not corrupt o… morer dirty in any way, but is also willing to sacrifice his life for others (particularly Nancy Callahan)
* Marv literally is Nick :P He's a street thug that no one can seem to kill or cause serious injury too, he has respect for women, and is willing to help people that are nice to him. But if you piss him off... run, never look back and pray he doesn't catch you.
*
* Dwight is an interesting one, he is a tough guy that is 'one fingerprint check away from being sent to the gas chamber' but is willing to help the prostitutes of Oldtown. He has good intentions, but his dark side is always ready to come out...
Now I know Tez is typically a nice guy, but if you confront him he will attack. He is a master thief, but not inherently evil... Have I got that right?
Also, I would seriously recommend th… [view original content]
Weasel! (You might want to zoom out a little on your browser to get a better view on the shading - apologies for it being a huge picture)
… more
Went for 'The After Eight' moustache on this occasion, but I may do the others in future drawings.
And I've got a chapter to post! Actually wrote this back in January; for a few reasons I'm finding writing not too easy at the moment, and this time-travelling story is not at all anywhere near finished, but in posting this I can finally stop worrying whether or not to use this chapter to start, so that'll help. XD
It's opening with Mr. Weasel looking as he is above, but the story won't focus just on him. When the rest of the chapters will be posted I've no idea, so thanks for any patience you have.
Chapter One – in which instincts are disregarded for a lady's sake.
The door to my apartment looked the same as it had always done. The '32' sign of wrought-iron was hammered on to it in the sa… [view original content]
The clock read eleven thirty in the morning but to Robert, the world around him seemed to have paused and he was the only one animated in the world. Hands creating a fist, Robert stood before the mirror. The ticking of the clock was driving him silently insane. Peering deep into the glass, it appeared to be taunting him. Mocking the very man that stood before it.
Robert's nostrils flared and before another tick of the clock could pass him by, Robert picks up his massive arms and slams his rock hard fists into the glass. The sound of dropping shards clunked against the tile, drowning out the noise of the clock. Blood dripped from the several knicks and cuts Robert received from the glass. He didn't seem to mind the fresh smell of his own blood or notice the severe pain along his arms.
His emotions became a dark and twisted feeling. Between the thoughts of his long lost love and now the sudden thoughts of murdering his own brother, Robert found himself overrun with vile and terrible images. As hard as he tried, they refused to leave. He continued to see the battle taking place between him and Gren. His beautiful and radiant lover Lyla, wrapped in his arks as they become lost in a lust filled afternoon of passion.
Robert, growling and wiping the blood off his arms, looked down and saw her image. Maybe he was losing the last shred of sanity left. His Grendel instincts were kicking in. All traces of common thoughts were gone. He gave into his standard profile and with one last and might breath, Robert lets out an ear piercing shriek. The image of Lyla in his blood sent the beast into madness.
"Go away!" Growling, Robert wipes the blood off the floor. "Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Cursing the name 'Lyla' under his shallow breathing, Robert cleans the floor; this, however, left what Robert assumed was another fairly descriptive image of Lyla once more in the blood. She appeared to be smiling at him. Taunting him and begging for his love.
"NO!" Robert furiously cleans the floor. "GO AWAY! STOP!"
He had lost it. Robert knew this, even as his fingers danced across the cold tile floor. What san man would be caught doing something so strange on his bathroom floor? The pain continued to grow in his arms but Robert was nowhere concerned with his wounds. He was not only a Fable but a Grendel. Their wounds, in an hour or less, always mend themselves. Something severe as losing a limb or so, now that took time. He had time. Lots of it.
Robert collasped on the floor, continuing to heave and beg the Gods above to remove her image.
"Please..." The beast felt the tears stream down. Soon, they mixed with the blood on the floor. "Please. Stop....make her go away. Please. My heart can not take this abuse or vile mocking you seem to fucking think I deserve!"
He knew better. Lyla would never leave her marriage to Georgie or leave the children. Robert KNEW the love she had for Georgie, as did he in return. The htought of his pale and tattooed body against her bare self, however, immediatly sent Robert into another minute long rage fit. He slams his fists into the ground, sending tile pieces into the air. The danced and twirled for a second before plopping to the ground. The idea of Georgie Porgie having sexual encounters with the woman that haunted his once pleasent dreams. This alone drove Robert into madness.
"Stop...." Robert coaxed himself into relaxing. "Stop. Breath. Stop...stop...you're alright. You're going to be fine...remember, you HAVE a son now. Think of RJ. Think of RJ....."
Rocking back and forth, Robert was drawn to tears. What is wrong with you, he thought. Do you WANT them to think you're unfit to keep the child alone.... Standing up, Robert noticed the dry blood and the cuts slowly healing themselves. Licking the open wounds, Robert turns the water on and soaks his right arm beneath the fresh, crip liquid. It stung for a second before Robert held out the other arm. He rinsed the remaining blood, bandaged his arms and stood in the bathroom.
"Fucking sick bastard...." He look at the mess on the floor. "Fuck. The hell is wrong with you?"
Robert had time to clean. RJ would not arrive home until later that afternoon. He had Football practice. Robert needed to get not only the bathroom but himself cleaned up. He couldn't take the chance of Lyla seeing him in this condition and removing RJ from the home. Robert could not lose the only thing he had left of Lyla. Besides the marking on his arm, RJ was all he had....
"Sick fuck." Robert pours bleach onto the blood. "God. Look at you. Pathetic. Thinking of her again and your brother's head on a pike. Sick fucker..."
Rose Red used to laugh and poke fun at Robert's sudden need to speak to himself. There were times he had conversations. Rose often wondered who he was speaking to. Himself? God? Invisible friends? Despite the laughter, it did help Robert. Even he asked himself who in their right mind would wish to lsiten to the rants of a swamp beast consumed with his past? This, however strange and unusual it was, did help Robert.
The intense smell was making Robert's eyes water and nose burn. Rinsing the bleach with water, Robert grabs a mop and scrubs away every last drop of blood. Using a broom, he shovels all the broken pieces into the dust pan, dispoases them into the trash and opens the window to air out the room. Removing the frame for the once mirror was last on the list. Robert leans it against the front room for right now; before he picked RJ up, he'd toss it into the dumpster near the apartment complex.
Robert takes a seat in the couch and tries to collect his thoughts. THAT would never happen again. Robert couldn't allow something like that to ever occur, especially with RJ around. That was his mother and despite how he felt about Gren at the moment, his son was close to his brother. Reaching for his earbuds and ipod, Robert felt like working out would help ease his mind. There was a punching bag near the television; he placed the buds into his ears and began his excercise practices.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Up down. Up down. Robert focused on the thick material, as the bag bounced around with each punch. The music played loudly in his ears. Hopefully, it would drown out the ongoing thoughts. 'Take me out' was on repeat in his ipod. RJ used to make fun of his father's choice of music but noticed how calm and relaxed Robert became. It, however, failed today for some reason.
"I know I won't be leaving here with you......"
"Georgie." Robert heavily punches the bag. "Georgie. Georgie. Georgie. Georgie...."
"If I move, this could die. If eyes move, this could die. Take me out..."
Robert could not hold back. He allowed his glamoured self to wash away and before long, the apartment was home to a towering Swamp creature, continuing to batter the punching bag. e repeats Georgie's name several more times before moving on to Gren. Since he announced giving the bow to Emily as a gift, he was angry. consummed by hate. But WHY, thought Robert.
"GREN!" Was it his mother? Gren's easy escape from death? The pain he cause because of Beowulf? Robert continues to punch. "GREN, you fucking idiot! Gren, Gren-GREN!"
With one mighty hit, the punching bag flies off the hinges and out of Robert's apartment window. Robert runs to the window. By this time, he peeks over the ledge and notices several mundies gathering around and looking up.
"Fuck." Robert tries to return to his glamoured form. "Shit! FUCK! Shit, shit, shit!"
There was a knock on his door. He automatically knew it had to be the landlord. He was in trouble. Although he and the guy were friends and had respect, Robert could only get away with so much. Preparing for a lecture as if he was a child, Robert opens his door. To his surprise, it was Rose Red. He had not seen her since the inccident at the Farm. With Lyla...
"Rose!?" Robert was startled. "What....Rose...uh-"
"Robby." Rose folds her arms and smiles. "Look like you've seen a ghost, Robby. Long time no see. I see you had a moment. Better hurry and get down there. I'd carry it, but-"
Rose was not expecting Robert to embrace her like he did. "Robby...."
"I'm so glad to see you, Rose."
Maybe is was the adrenaline speaking. Or his moment in the bathroom not too long ago. But Robert was truly happy to see Rose. Perhaps, he thought, the reason was simple. Without knowing it, she saved Robert at that moment From his demons, thoughts, anger.
Any questions or comments, please leave them below! Will be writing more in regards to the Superbowl, for those reading and still interested. I have a pretty cool idea for it.
I love this story and that ending has be wanting to know more about the time travel inccident that Weasel has found himself in! I love the picture, too! He does look good with the stache.
Weasel! (You might want to zoom out a little on your browser to get a better view on the shading - apologies for it being a huge picture)
… more
Went for 'The After Eight' moustache on this occasion, but I may do the others in future drawings.
And I've got a chapter to post! Actually wrote this back in January; for a few reasons I'm finding writing not too easy at the moment, and this time-travelling story is not at all anywhere near finished, but in posting this I can finally stop worrying whether or not to use this chapter to start, so that'll help. XD
It's opening with Mr. Weasel looking as he is above, but the story won't focus just on him. When the rest of the chapters will be posted I've no idea, so thanks for any patience you have.
Chapter One – in which instincts are disregarded for a lady's sake.
The door to my apartment looked the same as it had always done. The '32' sign of wrought-iron was hammered on to it in the sa… [view original content]
I admire your usage of first-person narrative, but also how Weasel seems to know that there is a 4th wall... Your wording is splendid as well, half the words I know what they mean but I never use them :P
Weasel! (You might want to zoom out a little on your browser to get a better view on the shading - apologies for it being a huge picture)
… more
Went for 'The After Eight' moustache on this occasion, but I may do the others in future drawings.
And I've got a chapter to post! Actually wrote this back in January; for a few reasons I'm finding writing not too easy at the moment, and this time-travelling story is not at all anywhere near finished, but in posting this I can finally stop worrying whether or not to use this chapter to start, so that'll help. XD
It's opening with Mr. Weasel looking as he is above, but the story won't focus just on him. When the rest of the chapters will be posted I've no idea, so thanks for any patience you have.
Chapter One – in which instincts are disregarded for a lady's sake.
The door to my apartment looked the same as it had always done. The '32' sign of wrought-iron was hammered on to it in the sa… [view original content]
Belinda had arrived in England in 1872. The air was crisp and cold, still tinged with the winter air and dusted with a light layer of white snow. She was shivering at the mouth of the portal, her eyes squinting from the brightness of the day. She'd finally made it. After all those years, she had made it. But it was not with out loss. She'd watched her brother Matthew die before here eyes; that event alone nearly ended her. But somehow, she lifted herself up from the crumbling foundations, moved on despite the pain. She tried not to think about her entire family that was swept away from her because of the Adversary. Whoever that guy is, whatever he is, she vowed to live to see the day that his reign ended. And that might have been one of the few driving factors that helped her stay afloat.
She was in rags for a dress at this point, her corset ripped at the seams. She must have looked as homeless as she was, with dirt stains and strips of leather for shoes. The only belonging she owned at that point was the necklace around her neck, which she'd taken from her mother before being sent out to find safety. It was the only thing she held dear to her life.
The wind blew and rustled her tangled brown curls, sending her nose runny and red. She sniffled and coughed, now realizing how weak she must be after so many months of minimal food and shelter. She peered across the streets, where activity was sparse due to the weather.
A bell sounded in the distance, loud and clear, and it reminded her of the days of her childhood. Church bells, she would recognize anywhere. She guessed that it must be Sunday, the day of rest. Nothing would be open today, sadly. So instead of looking for an inn or a bakery, she headed toward the sound of the bell, praying they would accept such a ragged woman as herself. There had to be someone there who would understand.
"Lost?" His voice was tranquil and amused. Belinda whipped her head around toward the sound of it.
"E-excuse me?" She stuttered. She hadn't talked to another living person in months. The sound of his voice was particularly enchanting, and she found herself wanting to hear it again. But she couldn't see him, where ever he had come from.
In the shadows of the side of a citadel, they glowed in the dark. Unfazed by the anomaly, she stepped forward to greet the man. He wore a nice vest and a coat over top, with golden cuffs around the wrists. His shoes were finely polished, and his pants were ironed out to perfection.
She made a little gasping noise in the back of her throat when he neared her, his green glowing eyes dimming in direct sunlight. His smile was impenetrable, something out of a fairytale. Hell, he might as well have been from one. She lingered silently, taken aback by his brilliance for just a moment too long.
"Am I enjoyable to look at?" He questioned. His smile might as well melted her soul.
She shook her head. "I-I'm sorry-...I just.."
"You look lost," He repeated. "Are you?"
Slowly, she nodded her head up and down. Her messy bun of hair fell loose, as her ribbon had snapped at that moment. She flushed, and shied her face from his as she knelt to the ground and picked up the torn pieces.
"I'll get you a new one," He told her. She froze, midway from standing up. The pieces felt dirty and old between her fingers, coming apart in strands.
"No..." She said, lifting her head up to see him once more. "No, you mustn't. I don't need any charity..."
"You're accent is unfamiliar. What part of England are you from?"
"...England?"
He stared at her, as if she had three heads. At that moment, Belinda realized that 'England' must be the land she was treading on. She felt the last bits of the ribbon fly away from her hand as she tried not to look like a complete moron.
"That's the country we're in..." He told her slowly. "You know that, right?"
"Oh- Yes, of course!" She stammered some more, trying her hardest not to cover her mouth with her shaking hands. "I...was just..."
"Come with me," He beckoned. "I know a place that will shelter you."
"On today?" She said incredulously. "Of all days?"
"Yes." He said, with finality. He held out his arm, to escort her properly, and she took is warily as he lead her down the snow trodden streets of London. It was at that point that she had never even introduced herself to this man, and neither did he say his name.
"I am Belinda Cratchit," She told him in a half-whisper.
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Cratchit. You can call me Mr. Wakefield, if you will."
"Well the pleasure is all mine," She said to him. Her confidence was slowly rising back to her normal standards, if that even made any sense anymore. He lead her down the street carefully, past all sorts of housing and stores and very few people wandering the streets.
They call it Fabletown. The building was three or so stories tall, and expanded the entire city block from one end to the other. It's massiveness took Belinda's breath away; She'd never seen a place so large in her life. Mr. Wakefield must have sensed it, as a smile crept upon his face once more.
"There are larger buildings that this one," He told her. "Many larger buildings. You haven't even seen the Royal Palace yet, or even Parliament."
"They sound so wonderful.." She said, staring up at the windows. A curtain had drawn back and for a split second, a face appeared in it. She wondered how many residents lived there and how expansive the inside must have been.
At that point, Mr. Wakefield released her arm and walked up the few steps that lead to the door. He knocked a few times and the heat from inside wafted out, carrying the smell of a warm kindled fire and baking foods.
The person who answered was a man. He stood tall and narrow, with skinny legs and arms. His suit was fit tightly around him, making him look even thinner than he probably was. A beard fancied his face all around, thick and dark, and his eyes were narrowed accusingly at Mr. Wakefield's face.
"What are you up to now, Jonathan?" The older man in the door asked lowly. "You know you and your kind aren't allowed here."
"I was escorting one of your kind to her new home, Rutley." Mr. Wakefield said. Behind him, Belinda could sense the smug look on his face.
Rutley didn't find this amusing. "Well? Where is this person?"
Belinda's eyes went wide when Mr. Wakefield dashed to the side and presented her. "Miss Belinda Cratchit, sir."
Rutley now narrowed his eyes at her, speculatively, as if he were observing something he didn't believe could actually happen. He bent over slightly, studying her face as she stood there blankly, unable to utter any sort of words, especially to this man before her.
"Well?" Rutley said. "What have we here?"
"She was lost," Mr. Wakefield said. "Doesn't even know was England is."
"Wha-!" Belinda looked at Mr. Wakefield shocked. "How do you know that I don't know?"
Mr. Wakefield smiled haughtily. "It's your entire demeanor. Plus, you're accent screams 'Homelands'."
"Excuse me?" She said. She knew that when she would pass through the portal, that the world on the otherside of it wouldn't know about her real origins. She'd heard myths that this world was free of all magic and the knowledge of other worlds. She didn't realize that on the first day or arrival, she would come face to face with those who would know her origins so well.
At that, Mr. Wakefield laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. "So Rutley-"
"I prefer more formality when spoken to, Jonathan."
Mr. Wakefield rolled his eyes. "Fine. Mr. Rutley. What do you think of her? A keeper?"
Mr. Rutley rolled his eyes. "Well I'm not allowed to turn Fables down, you know that?"
"You turned me down," Mr. Wakefield said, as if it were the most important thing he knew.
"I did not," Mr. Rutley replied. "You left on your own accords, and condemned yourself from us. Look, we are not going down this road in front of this young woman."
Mr. Wakefield scoffed. "Well, do I get to come in at least? Show her around? I still remember the layout rather nicely."
"I don't want you going anywhere near the inside of this establishment. In fact, you are far too close as we speak!"
Belinda's eyes darted between the two men. Should she just go? She wasn't sure how comfortable she was with staying in Mr. Rutley's house, even if it were absolutely stunning to look at.
"Very well," Mr. Wakefield said, matter-of-factly. "Make sure you treat her with a little more dignity than a child. She's not as stupid as she seems."
Belinda raised an eyebrow at him, but did not pursue an argument with him.
"Why would I treat her like a child?" Rutley seemed a little confused from Mr. Wakefield's comment. This suggested to Belinda that maybe Mr. Wakefield wasn't as concerned with most other refugees he came across. Maybe he liked Belinda, for what it was worth.
Before finally parting, Mr. Wakefield came in close to Belinda's ear. She stiffened and was staring ahead of herself at Rutley, who looked his usual skeptical self.
"You have a friend in me," He told her softly but firmly. "If you ever need help, just call on me."
She hadn't known what that meant. Maybe he was just being friendly. Maybe it was something more. Whatever it was, she was escorted away from him, inside the warm building she'd been itching to enter. There, she was lead by an older woman to some rooms, given new clothes, shoes, and even food to eat an a bed to sleep in. She could get used to living in the Mundane world.
I'm taking a tiny break from the main story, as I felt the need to build upon Belinda some more. Who is this Mr. Wakefield guy? Why is he so strange and sarcastic and fairly handsome? Why is London's Fabletown so big yet so empty? Is Belinda secretly crazy? Lol, that last question has to do with her unusual claims made before she entered the hospital in a previous chapter. Is she really the leader of London's Fabletown or is there something funny going on?
All very good thought-provoking questions. I hope your weekends have been well; I had my SAT's yesterday (blehhghghgh) and generally I've been super duper busy. I don't want to go to school tomorrow T-T Or work, for that matter. Oh well.
Since you and JJ have identified the mysterious redhaired woman, I will say yes. It is Carla. She & Mary have a wicked plan for Emily and Gren. WHAT she is up to, will be revealed in later chapters. Hades will not be a villian. His motives will change once Viviana is older and is able to talk...:) I love that song. I made that officially their song. Glad to hear you were moved by it.
And Rosie IS a cheerful little thing, despite who her mother is. I am; taking a break to check on my messages, then its back to the party. So much cake....lol
WAIT A SECOND -- is it Carla? (If you explained this and I've not read that chapter yet, this is going to look like the most idiotic eureka … moremoment ever XD). Maybe it's not Carla, but that thought struck me at the end and I just had to say something. Anyway, Hades seems like a good villain, sitting with his Scotch, but it's interesting that his motives don't necessarily seem out-right evil. There's the thing with Vivian and Cerberus, however, he is in charge of the Underworld.
Both Emily and Gren listening to that Snow Patrol song: can't help but be just a bit moved by that :')
Edit: Rosie looks like a real hit of happiness. And enjoy the get-together!
I'm liking where the story is heading, not to mention Percy looks rather dashing and quite the gentlemen with that mustache. I always enjoy reading your stories and I say this all the time but will do so once more: the detail, words you've picked and the descriptions. Not to mention the humor you like to sneak in there every so often. Great work, Noir! Can't wait for more!
Weasel! (You might want to zoom out a little on your browser to get a better view on the shading - apologies for it being a huge picture)
… more
Went for 'The After Eight' moustache on this occasion, but I may do the others in future drawings.
And I've got a chapter to post! Actually wrote this back in January; for a few reasons I'm finding writing not too easy at the moment, and this time-travelling story is not at all anywhere near finished, but in posting this I can finally stop worrying whether or not to use this chapter to start, so that'll help. XD
It's opening with Mr. Weasel looking as he is above, but the story won't focus just on him. When the rest of the chapters will be posted I've no idea, so thanks for any patience you have.
Chapter One – in which instincts are disregarded for a lady's sake.
The door to my apartment looked the same as it had always done. The '32' sign of wrought-iron was hammered on to it in the sa… [view original content]
Jesus Robert. Man, I really liked this chapter. The detail you added in the bathroom scene. Him and the punching bag. I can just feel the pain and determination Robert has. I always feel bad for this guy when I'm done reading your stuff. And Rose Red! -gasp- GREAT, man! Keep up the good work.
The clock read eleven thirty in the morning but to Robert, the world around him seemed to have paused and he was the only one animated in th… moree world. Hands creating a fist, Robert stood before the mirror. The ticking of the clock was driving him silently insane. Peering deep into the glass, it appeared to be taunting him. Mocking the very man that stood before it.
Robert's nostrils flared and before another tick of the clock could pass him by, Robert picks up his massive arms and slams his rock hard fists into the glass. The sound of dropping shards clunked against the tile, drowning out the noise of the clock. Blood dripped from the several knicks and cuts Robert received from the glass. He didn't seem to mind the fresh smell of his own blood or notice the severe pain along his arms.
His emotions became a dark and twisted feeling. Between the thoughts of his long lost love and now the sudden thoughts of murdering his own brother, Robert… [view original content]
Oh and the new Sin City film 'A Dame To Kill For' was pretty good!
It wasn't as good as the first film (it just lacked the essence the fi… morerst one had) but it wasn't terrible by any means...
I will probably read the comics now... I've heard of the character Wallace in Sin City, and he sounds pretty awesome
Weasel! (You might want to zoom out a little on your browser to get a better view on the shading - apologies for it being a huge picture)
… more
Went for 'The After Eight' moustache on this occasion, but I may do the others in future drawings.
And I've got a chapter to post! Actually wrote this back in January; for a few reasons I'm finding writing not too easy at the moment, and this time-travelling story is not at all anywhere near finished, but in posting this I can finally stop worrying whether or not to use this chapter to start, so that'll help. XD
It's opening with Mr. Weasel looking as he is above, but the story won't focus just on him. When the rest of the chapters will be posted I've no idea, so thanks for any patience you have.
Chapter One – in which instincts are disregarded for a lady's sake.
The door to my apartment looked the same as it had always done. The '32' sign of wrought-iron was hammered on to it in the sa… [view original content]
Comments
If you did I'd be thrilled XD
Goldie and Wendy are identical twins (Goldie has brighter hair) so she can easily play both :P
Maybe change who plays Yellow Bastard, Weasel doesn't seem right for it...
The movies were pretty good imo, it had an all-star cast (literally) and really captured the essence of the comics. Both films are black and white, but the colour is present where it should be like in the books.
I'm still not sure about this, but let's see what happens.
Same here! I always found Wonderland awesome due to its weird ways!
Yeah if they had listened to reason Luke wouldn't have done that. Glad you like the story and cat so far Lupine! XD
Just like Dragon I've not seen the movies or read the books, and might do some research as well! Intrigued, though.
Ah this sounds interesting! But I've never seen or read the comics either, but from what you said to dragon about John, Luke or Bigby could fit that role but that's up to you man.
I don't mind whatever role you put my OC in. Still need to see the new sin city....
What sort of person is Draco like?
You gave me his bio, but when compared to the characters of Sin City...
I'm basing the story on the film, so watch that and you're golden :P
I haven't read the books...
I didn't know it was for Sin city lol, one moment.
I think Bigby is better suited tbh, John is older and does everything by the book. Now Bigby is a maverick sometimes, but Luke sounds a bit too 'out there' to be Hartigan...
I haven't read the books either, but I thought the films were excellent!
Cool I like both Bigby and Luke so it's not a total loss! XD Can't wait to read this one!
I said it was in my comment :P
Ok then!
I'm glad you have faith in me :P I think I will watch Sin City again before I start though... I do remember most of the film, but some of the details have escaped me.
Oh hey awesome! Can't wait to see them!
I love the sims.
WAIT A SECOND -- is it Carla? (If you explained this and I've not read that chapter yet, this is going to look like the most idiotic eureka moment ever XD). Maybe it's not Carla, but that thought struck me at the end and I just had to say something. Anyway, Hades seems like a good villain, sitting with his Scotch, but it's interesting that his motives don't necessarily seem out-right evil. There's the thing with Vivian and Cerberus, however, he is in charge of the Underworld.
Both Emily and Gren listening to that Snow Patrol song: can't help but be just a bit moved by that :')
Edit: Rosie looks like a real hit of happiness.
And enjoy the get-together!
Kevin is the killer of Goldie.
You should watch the movie dude, I think you will like it!
Isn't he the killer or part of it? Its been awhile since I've read the comics. Never saw the movie....
Ah, should be able to find that to watch somewhere or other! Will check it out.
Cool!
Oh man. Robert as the killer. Kind of ironic, considering Pie's story. XD XD I may have to watch it now.
NOOOO! :0 No, no, no, no, no, no!!!! I know who the redhaired girl is!!! I thought it was rose red but its not! OMG!!!! That bitch! UGH! I can't wait to see what happens to her now! >:(
I love those pictures! The first on is too cute! Hmmm....so, Hades was working with the red haired woman, too? I wonder why. Perhaps it has to do with the quads and emily. She's after the bow, I know that. But why....
HOW precious! Taking the babies to work with him.
I always feel sad when you go back and talk about Emily's past, although Ithought it was cute when they both listened to the song. 
I love that. I love them. I adore Gremily 
Can't wait for more!
Robert as a silent killer?! -dun dun DUN!-
Please do watch it!! XD
Sends a virtual highfive OMG! Someone else thinks its Carla, too! It must be! It makes sense now!
Weasel! (You might want to zoom out a little on your browser to get a better view on the shading - apologies for it being a huge picture)
Went for 'The After Eight' moustache on this occasion, but I may do the others in future drawings.
And I've got a chapter to post! Actually wrote this back in January; for a few reasons I'm finding writing not too easy at the moment, and this time-travelling story is not at all anywhere near finished, but in posting this I can finally stop worrying whether or not to use this chapter to start, so that'll help. XD
It's opening with Mr. Weasel looking as he is above, but the story won't focus just on him. When the rest of the chapters will be posted I've no idea, so thanks for any patience you have.
Chapter One – in which instincts are disregarded for a lady's sake.
The door to my apartment looked the same as it had always done. The '32' sign of wrought-iron was hammered on to it in the same high spot; the wood shone as usual where the candlelight bounced against the varnish; the brass knob had flecks of green patina. Same door, same Woodlands.
Then I opened the door. And now I'm trying to decide whether or not I regret doing so.
The name's Percival Mintwood Weasel, by the way, just in case you've forgotten the whole thing.
clears throat I think I realised pretty quickly that something wasn't right. The living room was – ah, sorry – the living room is bigger than I remember it being and, irrelevant of the size, it's filled with furniture of a sort that I've never seen before. The colours of the walls; the fabrics; the carpet; the sun shone on all this peculiar décor – I'm told it's all rather contemporary, rather stylish. “Modern with period features,” apparently. Whatever it is, it's not my idea of modern. But I suppose it is your modern.
Initially, I wondered if I'd mistakenly opened the door to another's apartment – Beauty and Beasts', maybe; they're always up on the latest fashions – or, at least, they were. As I said, though, I knew it was my door and so I knew it must be my apartment. A few seconds went by while I attempted to process this unexpected and sudden alteration, and just as I had decided to step out and close the door with the hopes that upon reopening it things would be back to normal, something even more unexpected occurred. Cindy appeared at the doorway to what I presumed was still the kitchen, wearing a purple“tea shirt” (I didn't ask at the time – is it for drinking tea in?) and shorts of “denim” that were frayed around the ends. They were short shorts. Until that moment the most I'd seen of her other than what is taken to be publicly descent were her ankles, and now here she was in my apartment wearing very short shorts. Since when did women start wearing shorts? Since when did they get so small? (Shorts, I mean – not women.) You know, I'm still struggling to get over that sight. For one or two reasons.
Momentary silence
Oh, right, yes! Sorry, got distracted there. Upon seeing Cindy I was so effected my mind momentarily hit a metaphorical wall and decided the best thing to do would be to drop my jaw, and drop my jaw did. Cindy walked over to me in that charmingly dainty manner she has and came to a stop a few feet away; a smile lit up her already glowing face. And then she jumped at me! I realise now that her motive for doing so was a loving embrace, however, my first instinct was to raise my walking stick in a defensive position. With glad relief I can say that my second instinct – to catch her – prevailed over the first, and so the walking stick in my right hand toppled to the floor as I held my arms open and received Cindy directly into them, with her legs fastening tightly around my waist. A Fable with less equanimity might have justifiably encountered a heart-attack if such a fair maiden were to unexpectedly appear and proceed to leap at them, but we weasels are blessed with high fortitude and adept hand-to-eye coordination – it's just a thing we've got going on, you know. Feel free to remember that for future reference, if you like.
“Where has that moustache come from?” She asked inquisitively while still in my arms. (I shan't mimic her voice, you can imagine it for yourself.) “And why are you wearing those clothes? You didn't have them on earlier” Her tone took on a slight suspicious intent. Then she shrugged, gave me a peck of a kiss, and after looked at me expectantly. “You can put me down now.”
By this point, any ability of mine to build a comprehensible sentence had turned to dust, so I simply carried her over to the nearest chair and placed her in it. My utter silence being uncharacteristic, Cindy was starting to sense that something was particularly awry, (apparently the new 'tache and change of clothes wasn't enough to out-right prompt it however - goodness knows what one reads into that). “Are you okay, Percy?” There was genuine concern in her voice but again I gave no reply; my attention had been unswervingly caught by a calendar hung on the wall next to the kitchen island and something was calling me to it.
I took it down, ignoring the various photographs of the world that adorned the five pages I had to go back through to find my answer.
2014.
I placed the calendar on a marbled counter and walked back out the front door, shutting it behind me. Closed my eyes and took a deep breath in and out. Then I opened my eyes, spun around and opened the door. The same sight as last time, and Cinderella leaned her head to look out into the corridor with a raised eyebrow of misgiving.
It had been 1883 last time I left my apartment. I'd only gone back to get my hat.
Ah Mr. Weasel looks awesome!
Great start as well Lupine! 
Yep, you got it correct. XD
And whenever the movie comes out on Netflix, I'll watch it most definitely!
Very dapper, LumpineNoir.
The clock read eleven thirty in the morning but to Robert, the world around him seemed to have paused and he was the only one animated in the world. Hands creating a fist, Robert stood before the mirror. The ticking of the clock was driving him silently insane. Peering deep into the glass, it appeared to be taunting him. Mocking the very man that stood before it.
Robert's nostrils flared and before another tick of the clock could pass him by, Robert picks up his massive arms and slams his rock hard fists into the glass. The sound of dropping shards clunked against the tile, drowning out the noise of the clock. Blood dripped from the several knicks and cuts Robert received from the glass. He didn't seem to mind the fresh smell of his own blood or notice the severe pain along his arms.
His emotions became a dark and twisted feeling. Between the thoughts of his long lost love and now the sudden thoughts of murdering his own brother, Robert found himself overrun with vile and terrible images. As hard as he tried, they refused to leave. He continued to see the battle taking place between him and Gren. His beautiful and radiant lover Lyla, wrapped in his arks as they become lost in a lust filled afternoon of passion.
Robert, growling and wiping the blood off his arms, looked down and saw her image. Maybe he was losing the last shred of sanity left. His Grendel instincts were kicking in. All traces of common thoughts were gone. He gave into his standard profile and with one last and might breath, Robert lets out an ear piercing shriek. The image of Lyla in his blood sent the beast into madness.
"Go away!" Growling, Robert wipes the blood off the floor. "Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Cursing the name 'Lyla' under his shallow breathing, Robert cleans the floor; this, however, left what Robert assumed was another fairly descriptive image of Lyla once more in the blood. She appeared to be smiling at him. Taunting him and begging for his love.
"NO!" Robert furiously cleans the floor. "GO AWAY! STOP!"
He had lost it. Robert knew this, even as his fingers danced across the cold tile floor. What san man would be caught doing something so strange on his bathroom floor? The pain continued to grow in his arms but Robert was nowhere concerned with his wounds. He was not only a Fable but a Grendel. Their wounds, in an hour or less, always mend themselves. Something severe as losing a limb or so, now that took time. He had time. Lots of it.
Robert collasped on the floor, continuing to heave and beg the Gods above to remove her image.
"Please..." The beast felt the tears stream down. Soon, they mixed with the blood on the floor. "Please. Stop....make her go away. Please. My heart can not take this abuse or vile mocking you seem to fucking think I deserve!"
He knew better. Lyla would never leave her marriage to Georgie or leave the children. Robert KNEW the love she had for Georgie, as did he in return. The htought of his pale and tattooed body against her bare self, however, immediatly sent Robert into another minute long rage fit. He slams his fists into the ground, sending tile pieces into the air. The danced and twirled for a second before plopping to the ground. The idea of Georgie Porgie having sexual encounters with the woman that haunted his once pleasent dreams. This alone drove Robert into madness.
"Stop...." Robert coaxed himself into relaxing. "Stop. Breath. Stop...stop...you're alright. You're going to be fine...remember, you HAVE a son now. Think of RJ. Think of RJ....."
Rocking back and forth, Robert was drawn to tears. What is wrong with you, he thought. Do you WANT them to think you're unfit to keep the child alone.... Standing up, Robert noticed the dry blood and the cuts slowly healing themselves. Licking the open wounds, Robert turns the water on and soaks his right arm beneath the fresh, crip liquid. It stung for a second before Robert held out the other arm. He rinsed the remaining blood, bandaged his arms and stood in the bathroom.
"Fucking sick bastard...." He look at the mess on the floor. "Fuck. The hell is wrong with you?"
Robert had time to clean. RJ would not arrive home until later that afternoon. He had Football practice. Robert needed to get not only the bathroom but himself cleaned up. He couldn't take the chance of Lyla seeing him in this condition and removing RJ from the home. Robert could not lose the only thing he had left of Lyla. Besides the marking on his arm, RJ was all he had....
"Sick fuck." Robert pours bleach onto the blood. "God. Look at you. Pathetic. Thinking of her again and your brother's head on a pike. Sick fucker..."
Rose Red used to laugh and poke fun at Robert's sudden need to speak to himself. There were times he had conversations. Rose often wondered who he was speaking to. Himself? God? Invisible friends? Despite the laughter, it did help Robert. Even he asked himself who in their right mind would wish to lsiten to the rants of a swamp beast consumed with his past? This, however strange and unusual it was, did help Robert.
The intense smell was making Robert's eyes water and nose burn. Rinsing the bleach with water, Robert grabs a mop and scrubs away every last drop of blood. Using a broom, he shovels all the broken pieces into the dust pan, dispoases them into the trash and opens the window to air out the room. Removing the frame for the once mirror was last on the list. Robert leans it against the front room for right now; before he picked RJ up, he'd toss it into the dumpster near the apartment complex.
Robert takes a seat in the couch and tries to collect his thoughts. THAT would never happen again. Robert couldn't allow something like that to ever occur, especially with RJ around. That was his mother and despite how he felt about Gren at the moment, his son was close to his brother. Reaching for his earbuds and ipod, Robert felt like working out would help ease his mind. There was a punching bag near the television; he placed the buds into his ears and began his excercise practices.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Up down. Up down. Robert focused on the thick material, as the bag bounced around with each punch. The music played loudly in his ears. Hopefully, it would drown out the ongoing thoughts. 'Take me out' was on repeat in his ipod. RJ used to make fun of his father's choice of music but noticed how calm and relaxed Robert became. It, however, failed today for some reason.
"I know I won't be leaving here with you......"
"Georgie." Robert heavily punches the bag. "Georgie. Georgie. Georgie. Georgie...."
"If I move, this could die. If eyes move, this could die. Take me out..."
Robert could not hold back. He allowed his glamoured self to wash away and before long, the apartment was home to a towering Swamp creature, continuing to batter the punching bag. e repeats Georgie's name several more times before moving on to Gren. Since he announced giving the bow to Emily as a gift, he was angry. consummed by hate. But WHY, thought Robert.
"GREN!" Was it his mother? Gren's easy escape from death? The pain he cause because of Beowulf? Robert continues to punch. "GREN, you fucking idiot! Gren, Gren-GREN!"
With one mighty hit, the punching bag flies off the hinges and out of Robert's apartment window. Robert runs to the window. By this time, he peeks over the ledge and notices several mundies gathering around and looking up.
"Fuck." Robert tries to return to his glamoured form. "Shit! FUCK! Shit, shit, shit!"
There was a knock on his door. He automatically knew it had to be the landlord. He was in trouble. Although he and the guy were friends and had respect, Robert could only get away with so much. Preparing for a lecture as if he was a child, Robert opens his door. To his surprise, it was Rose Red. He had not seen her since the inccident at the Farm. With Lyla...
"Rose!?" Robert was startled. "What....Rose...uh-"
"Robby." Rose folds her arms and smiles. "Look like you've seen a ghost, Robby. Long time no see. I see you had a moment. Better hurry and get down there. I'd carry it, but-"
Rose was not expecting Robert to embrace her like he did. "Robby...."
"I'm so glad to see you, Rose."
Maybe is was the adrenaline speaking. Or his moment in the bathroom not too long ago. But Robert was truly happy to see Rose. Perhaps, he thought, the reason was simple. Without knowing it, she saved Robert at that moment From his demons, thoughts, anger.
From himself.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,Any questions or comments, please leave them below!
Will be writing more in regards to the Superbowl, for those reading and still interested. I have a pretty cool idea for it. 
I love this story and that ending has be wanting to know more about the time travel inccident that Weasel has found himself in! I love the picture, too! He does look good with the stache.
Well well! Already I'm interested!
I admire your usage of first-person narrative, but also how Weasel seems to know that there is a 4th wall... Your wording is splendid as well, half the words I know what they mean but I never use them :P
I look forward to more from you!! XD
Good!
The first film came out in 2005, so it should be on there already...
The second came out in August last year.
Belinda had arrived in England in 1872. The air was crisp and cold, still tinged with the winter air and dusted with a light layer of white snow. She was shivering at the mouth of the portal, her eyes squinting from the brightness of the day. She'd finally made it. After all those years, she had made it. But it was not with out loss. She'd watched her brother Matthew die before here eyes; that event alone nearly ended her. But somehow, she lifted herself up from the crumbling foundations, moved on despite the pain. She tried not to think about her entire family that was swept away from her because of the Adversary. Whoever that guy is, whatever he is, she vowed to live to see the day that his reign ended. And that might have been one of the few driving factors that helped her stay afloat.
She was in rags for a dress at this point, her corset ripped at the seams. She must have looked as homeless as she was, with dirt stains and strips of leather for shoes. The only belonging she owned at that point was the necklace around her neck, which she'd taken from her mother before being sent out to find safety. It was the only thing she held dear to her life.
The wind blew and rustled her tangled brown curls, sending her nose runny and red. She sniffled and coughed, now realizing how weak she must be after so many months of minimal food and shelter. She peered across the streets, where activity was sparse due to the weather.
A bell sounded in the distance, loud and clear, and it reminded her of the days of her childhood. Church bells, she would recognize anywhere. She guessed that it must be Sunday, the day of rest. Nothing would be open today, sadly. So instead of looking for an inn or a bakery, she headed toward the sound of the bell, praying they would accept such a ragged woman as herself. There had to be someone there who would understand.
"Lost?" His voice was tranquil and amused. Belinda whipped her head around toward the sound of it.
"E-excuse me?" She stuttered. She hadn't talked to another living person in months. The sound of his voice was particularly enchanting, and she found herself wanting to hear it again. But she couldn't see him, where ever he had come from.
In the shadows of the side of a citadel, they glowed in the dark. Unfazed by the anomaly, she stepped forward to greet the man. He wore a nice vest and a coat over top, with golden cuffs around the wrists. His shoes were finely polished, and his pants were ironed out to perfection.
She made a little gasping noise in the back of her throat when he neared her, his green glowing eyes dimming in direct sunlight. His smile was impenetrable, something out of a fairytale. Hell, he might as well have been from one. She lingered silently, taken aback by his brilliance for just a moment too long.
"Am I enjoyable to look at?" He questioned. His smile might as well melted her soul.
She shook her head. "I-I'm sorry-...I just.."
"You look lost," He repeated. "Are you?"
Slowly, she nodded her head up and down. Her messy bun of hair fell loose, as her ribbon had snapped at that moment. She flushed, and shied her face from his as she knelt to the ground and picked up the torn pieces.
"I'll get you a new one," He told her. She froze, midway from standing up. The pieces felt dirty and old between her fingers, coming apart in strands.
"No..." She said, lifting her head up to see him once more. "No, you mustn't. I don't need any charity..."
"You're accent is unfamiliar. What part of England are you from?"
"...England?"
He stared at her, as if she had three heads. At that moment, Belinda realized that 'England' must be the land she was treading on. She felt the last bits of the ribbon fly away from her hand as she tried not to look like a complete moron.
"That's the country we're in..." He told her slowly. "You know that, right?"
"Oh- Yes, of course!" She stammered some more, trying her hardest not to cover her mouth with her shaking hands. "I...was just..."
"Come with me," He beckoned. "I know a place that will shelter you."
"On today?" She said incredulously. "Of all days?"
"Yes." He said, with finality. He held out his arm, to escort her properly, and she took is warily as he lead her down the snow trodden streets of London. It was at that point that she had never even introduced herself to this man, and neither did he say his name.
"I am Belinda Cratchit," She told him in a half-whisper.
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Cratchit. You can call me Mr. Wakefield, if you will."
"Well the pleasure is all mine," She said to him. Her confidence was slowly rising back to her normal standards, if that even made any sense anymore. He lead her down the street carefully, past all sorts of housing and stores and very few people wandering the streets.
They call it Fabletown. The building was three or so stories tall, and expanded the entire city block from one end to the other. It's massiveness took Belinda's breath away; She'd never seen a place so large in her life. Mr. Wakefield must have sensed it, as a smile crept upon his face once more.
"There are larger buildings that this one," He told her. "Many larger buildings. You haven't even seen the Royal Palace yet, or even Parliament."
"They sound so wonderful.." She said, staring up at the windows. A curtain had drawn back and for a split second, a face appeared in it. She wondered how many residents lived there and how expansive the inside must have been.
At that point, Mr. Wakefield released her arm and walked up the few steps that lead to the door. He knocked a few times and the heat from inside wafted out, carrying the smell of a warm kindled fire and baking foods.
The person who answered was a man. He stood tall and narrow, with skinny legs and arms. His suit was fit tightly around him, making him look even thinner than he probably was. A beard fancied his face all around, thick and dark, and his eyes were narrowed accusingly at Mr. Wakefield's face.
"What are you up to now, Jonathan?" The older man in the door asked lowly. "You know you and your kind aren't allowed here."
"I was escorting one of your kind to her new home, Rutley." Mr. Wakefield said. Behind him, Belinda could sense the smug look on his face.
Rutley didn't find this amusing. "Well? Where is this person?"
Belinda's eyes went wide when Mr. Wakefield dashed to the side and presented her. "Miss Belinda Cratchit, sir."
Rutley now narrowed his eyes at her, speculatively, as if he were observing something he didn't believe could actually happen. He bent over slightly, studying her face as she stood there blankly, unable to utter any sort of words, especially to this man before her.
"Well?" Rutley said. "What have we here?"
"She was lost," Mr. Wakefield said. "Doesn't even know was England is."
"Wha-!" Belinda looked at Mr. Wakefield shocked. "How do you know that I don't know?"
Mr. Wakefield smiled haughtily. "It's your entire demeanor. Plus, you're accent screams 'Homelands'."
"Excuse me?" She said. She knew that when she would pass through the portal, that the world on the otherside of it wouldn't know about her real origins. She'd heard myths that this world was free of all magic and the knowledge of other worlds. She didn't realize that on the first day or arrival, she would come face to face with those who would know her origins so well.
At that, Mr. Wakefield laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. "So Rutley-"
"I prefer more formality when spoken to, Jonathan."
Mr. Wakefield rolled his eyes. "Fine. Mr. Rutley. What do you think of her? A keeper?"
Mr. Rutley rolled his eyes. "Well I'm not allowed to turn Fables down, you know that?"
"You turned me down," Mr. Wakefield said, as if it were the most important thing he knew.
"I did not," Mr. Rutley replied. "You left on your own accords, and condemned yourself from us. Look, we are not going down this road in front of this young woman."
Mr. Wakefield scoffed. "Well, do I get to come in at least? Show her around? I still remember the layout rather nicely."
"I don't want you going anywhere near the inside of this establishment. In fact, you are far too close as we speak!"
Belinda's eyes darted between the two men. Should she just go? She wasn't sure how comfortable she was with staying in Mr. Rutley's house, even if it were absolutely stunning to look at.
"Very well," Mr. Wakefield said, matter-of-factly. "Make sure you treat her with a little more dignity than a child. She's not as stupid as she seems."
Belinda raised an eyebrow at him, but did not pursue an argument with him.
"Why would I treat her like a child?" Rutley seemed a little confused from Mr. Wakefield's comment. This suggested to Belinda that maybe Mr. Wakefield wasn't as concerned with most other refugees he came across. Maybe he liked Belinda, for what it was worth.
Before finally parting, Mr. Wakefield came in close to Belinda's ear. She stiffened and was staring ahead of herself at Rutley, who looked his usual skeptical self.
"You have a friend in me," He told her softly but firmly. "If you ever need help, just call on me."
She hadn't known what that meant. Maybe he was just being friendly. Maybe it was something more. Whatever it was, she was escorted away from him, inside the warm building she'd been itching to enter. There, she was lead by an older woman to some rooms, given new clothes, shoes, and even food to eat an a bed to sleep in. She could get used to living in the Mundane world.
I'm taking a tiny break from the main story, as I felt the need to build upon Belinda some more. Who is this Mr. Wakefield guy? Why is he so strange and sarcastic and fairly handsome? Why is London's Fabletown so big yet so empty? Is Belinda secretly crazy? Lol, that last question has to do with her unusual claims made before she entered the hospital in a previous chapter. Is she really the leader of London's Fabletown or is there something funny going on?
All very good thought-provoking questions. I hope your weekends have been well; I had my SAT's yesterday (blehhghghgh) and generally I've been super duper busy. I don't want to go to school tomorrow T-T Or work, for that matter. Oh well.
Since you and JJ have identified the mysterious redhaired woman, I will say yes. It is Carla. She & Mary have a wicked plan for Emily and Gren. WHAT she is up to, will be revealed in later chapters.
Hades will not be a villian. His motives will change once Viviana is older and is able to talk...:) I love that song. I made that officially their song. Glad to hear you were moved by it. 
And Rosie IS a cheerful little thing, despite who her mother is.
I am; taking a break to check on my messages, then its back to the party. 
So much cake....lol
I'm liking where the story is heading, not to mention Percy looks rather dashing and quite the gentlemen with that mustache.
I always enjoy reading your stories and I say this all the time but will do so once more: the detail, words you've picked and the descriptions. Not to mention the humor you like to sneak in there every so often. Great work, Noir! Can't wait for more!
Jesus Robert. Man, I really liked this chapter. The detail you added in the bathroom scene. Him and the punching bag. I can just feel the pain and determination Robert has. I always feel bad for this guy when I'm done reading your stuff.
And Rose Red! -gasp- GREAT, man! Keep up the good work.
Oh and the new Sin City film 'A Dame To Kill For' was pretty good!
It wasn't as good as the first film (it just lacked the essence the first one had) but it wasn't terrible by any means...
I will probably read the comics now... I've heard of the character Wallace in Sin City, and he sounds pretty awesome
Trust me, out of all the times I looked, the first movie still isn't on there.
Yeah heard mixed reviews about it, the comics seem interesting too. I also read somewhere that there is going to be a new fight club movie.
Damn, Mr. Weasel, those gums! XD
Wow that is bad :P