Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Day Two-Ninety-Seven: !

I guess it's tomorrow. That means I gotta discuss the family situation. 

Sigh… the family situation…

After the unsuccessful petition to Lord Cannonbottom, I figured it would probably be best to get the hell outta Villeinville as quick as possible. Why linger? Why let parents know that I'm even here? Why not grab Robert, who's the apparent target of this side trip from hell, and beat feet into the Indy Plains once again?

I tried. I went straight to Robert's restaurant, burst in the front door, and yelled for him to show himself. Immediately. Let's get this show on the road, no time for dawdling, we have lotsa stuff to cover everything you have to leave behind, let's GO GO GO, as Derby would say, bless his weird heart.

There was nobody home. All my yelling was for naught. The Beefiary - yes, he stole the old name for his new establishment - was both darkened, and, I noticed after a second, locked. With a very shitty lock. I ripped it right out of the wall by opening the door. Whoops. My yelling DID achieve something, however, in that it got me lots of attention from OUTSIDE the restaurant.

Villeinville is set up in sections. The centre of town is dedicated solely to Lord Cannonbottom's holdings, including his tower, a few maintenance buildings, barracks for his militia and farming sheds to hold his animals. The second ring out, the one I was in, contains the cottages where everyone lives, along with a few stores. Beyond that are the farmers' fields and silos and stuff like that. (Yes, the palisade wall is really, really big.)

Most people were busy in their fields, and hadn't noticed our arrival. But a few farmers happened to be lingering in their cottages, and one of them - a dumpy old man I recognized as Murdock the Farmer - caught me slipping out of Robert's restaurant.

"Hey!" he bellowed, pointing. "That ain't your building! 'cept it might be, 'cause you're clearly Dragomir! I know you, you ate my carrots that one time! Oswald's son! Robert's brother! I know you! Hey, Oswald, your son's back! A quick string of conclusions have I hit upon!"

My father's farm is on the other side of the ring, but no matter how big Villeinville might be, word travels quickly. Murdock's message hopped from his pudgy lips, to an old lady on her front porch, to a blind man slumped against a fencepost, to a dog, which then ran into the fields and informed my mother, working on a crop of green peppers in her vegetable garden.

Yes, my mom can talk to dogs. When I told Libby that, she quipped that it must be because my mom's such a bitch. Get it? Dog? Bitch? Ahh, shouldn't say things like that about mothers, but it was pretty funny.

I tried to hide in the restaurant. Libby remained outside, playing with Grayson. My hiding spot therefore failed, and I slouched into the sunlight when they yelled for me to show myself. My mom was pleased to see me.

My dad, his brow covered in sweat from yanking pumpkins off of vines, was less so.

"Fuck me, the little twit comes home. The hell's with this floppy hat? Looks like an inverse vagina. You get fired 're somethin'? This a headpiece of shame?"

"Um… the castle got destroyed, dad…"

"Bah. Don't mean you shouldn't stick with your job. Lame-ass excuse. 'least you brought Libby along… ehe… and you've got another kid! Looks like his old man. Damn shame, that. Hasn't got a prayer. Good thing you look nuthin' like me, ya ugly little runt."

"Sorry, dad."

"You better be. Where's that Eve 'o yours? She was a sight to witness, she was. Ate a damned polar bear. Gruesome little creature. Fine addition to the family, fine. Well, speak up, where is she?"

"She killed me 'n stayed in the castle with a bunch of horrible shadow monsters."

"Killed you, eh? Well, good for 'er. Shame it didn't stick or nuthin'. Bloody kid, you don't belong in this family. Comin' from my loins y'should be freakishly strong. FREAKISHLY. Can't be a farmer without some freak strength, 'n a stout guard knows the value o' it, too. Like that Cedric fella! Good man, he was. Still in touch with 'im?"

"I think he's dead, dad."

"Didn't come back to life or nuthin'?"

"I… don't… uh…"

"Ah. Damn shame. C'mon, I'll give ya some work to do. You can fuck it up. It'll be like old times. I swear, y'used to be so much stronger than y'are now… Rob lost all his childhood muscle, too… thank the gods he can cook… world's just goin' to hell."

Don't I know it, old man.

Robert's away on a hunting trip with his 'assistants', those assistants being everyone who followed him from the castle. My mom tells me that there're more than a dozen folks shadowing his every move and helping out with his restaurant, though it's apparently not doing so well. Hence the hunting trip. Robert needs new recipes. Some things never change.

Been helping out around the farm today. And yesterday. When I'm not, I try to visit the caravan as much as possible. The nobles keep complaining that they wanna get underway, but June refuses to leave until we've got more help. I can agree with her reasoning, 'cause the nobles won't be able to create a village for shit. Sooooo… gotta wait… until Robert gets back.


At least mom has something else to complain about, rather than Libby: Robert brought home a girlfriend last week. My mom keeps complaining that she's a HUGE prostitute. This woman PROBABLY isn't, as Martha the Farmer is notoriously biased against women who date her sons. I will forever find this weird, as she ARRANGED my damned wedding to Libby. Confusing.

Oh well. Back to work. Dad needs the eels fed… great job for a mayor… maybe I should actually TELL my parents what I'm planning to do…? Meh, nah, they'd probably uproot and follow me to establish the new settlement… sure as hell don't want THAT to happen.


Dragomir the Mayor