Friday, March 15, 2013

Day Four-Hundred-Fifteen: See ya

WELL, that didn't work. Time to head home.

As agreed, I travelled to the mountain to see how Libby was getting on with her crew and camp and whatever. The going was much easier than before: not only is all the snow gone, the Hypermole is also a handy road builder. It made a great path straight through the forest and out the other side. Lotsa fallen trees, sure, but it's a hell of a lot easier to traverse than before…

… and this time, I had a ride! Yep, Morris lent me his wagon and horses. He's a cow man, now, and he has no interest in Libby's nonsense, but he knows goin' there's important. He handed over a neat little four -wheeler and two well-groomed and polite horses to pull it along. With a bit of food and some galloping across open plains I managed to reach Libby's camp a little after lunch today.

(Left Eve in Bora's care. Bet you wondered about that, eh, diary? Thought I just left her behind without considerin' the consequences? You thought WRONG, diary. So danged wrong. But that's okay, you're still cool.)

Libby's camp… isn't much of a camp, just yet. It's mainly an assemblage of tents, most of them pilfered from Pagan's abortive siege a few months back. When I arrived workers were busy preparing a meal centre while Libby sized up the mountain with June, who, I assume, is sticking around here from now on. Saw her door peeking out of the side of the mountain and everything.

Noting my approach, June leaned on her staff and whispered something into Libby's ear. Judging by the scowl that came next, I bet it was about me.

Grayson, emerging from behind a barrel full of tools, skipped gleefully up to me - but I saw at once that something was wrong in his face. He was mildy peeved. You don't miss irritation in a child who is so happy the rest of the time, even if it is mild. 

"Hi, mayor!" he said, coming to a stop in front of me. He had a yoyo in his hand, and he slid it down the length of the string and kept it there while talking. "Have you had enough of the monster yet?"

"Yeah, I have." I tried to brush past him. He skipped in front of me.

"I'd watch out if I were you," he warned, snickering. "You shouldn't talk about me like that. Not in front of mom. She'll dislocate your jaw, and only if you're lucky."

"We'll see. Would you move, please? I need to talk to Libby, not you."

He pouted, but stepped aside. His yoyo was still spinning at the bottom of the string, "You're no fun. So… apathetic to everything. You know what I mean?"

I ignored him and walked up to Libby. She refused to look me in the eye, so I took the initiative. "Libby. June."

"Dragomir," said June.

"Dragomir," said Grayson.

"Fuckface," said Libby.

I shrugged. I couldn't be goaded today. "Whatever. You didn't win the vote, you shouldn't be out here."

Libby sneered, eyes blazing as they searched the ground for some secret that might yield the perfect digging point for the Hypermole. "We had a new vote. Everyone who said yes came with me. Seemed fair 'nough. You have a problem, you shoulda voted in the LAST one."

"I guess. You gonna come back to Pubton?"

"Not a chance in hell."

I shrugged again. "Okay. See ya."

I turned to leave. Grayson's expression didn't change. June's dropped a little, into surprised shock. I didn't see Libby's, but she was mad enough to come out of her crouch and glower at my back, so I'm sure it was a foul look indeed. "That's it? 'See ya?' Nothing else from high-and-mighty Dragomir?"

"Nope. You wanna dig out here, you go right ahead. I got better stuff to do."

"Yeah? Like what? Go attend to that unconscious little BITCH back in town?"

"Yep. I like her more than I like you, these days. Did more for me than you ever will."

Grayson 'ooohed'. June 'aaaahed'. Libby went ballistic.


"Actually," - I pointed over my back - "I think she did. Thanks, by the way, June."

"No problem," the witch murmured.

"I… I… " Libby unleashed a torrent of curses, kicking at the ground and punching the air ineffectually. Had I been closer, or if Grayson hadn't been between us, she might have charged over and killed me. "YOU SHITHEAD! MAYBE I SHOULD'VE LEFT YOU TO ROT IN THAT FUCKING HOLE! MAYBE YOU SHOULD'VE STAYED DEAD!"

That prickled. It messed with my buzz of apathy - and, apparently, it messed with Libby, because she clamped her hands over her mouth. She had nothing else to say.

I did. "I'll bring Eve to visit when she's better. It'll be soon. Then she can see how not to act. Try not ta get eaten by a gods-damned werewolf before we return, eh?"


I left after that.

I'm sitting on the wagon. The camp… is… wait a second… there. It just disappeared over a rise in the foothills.

Libby's words are still ringing in my ears. In my heart.

Fuck me.


That was my wife…

Those things… what I said to her, 'n what she said to me…

Did we really mean them…?

How was I so casual when I got into this wagon…?


  1. I stand by my comment from yesterday. I also stand by Dragomayor in this fight. Eve >>>>>>> Grayson + Libby.

    1. Dragomayor is partly to blame for this too though. Libby's being pigheaded about it, sure, and when we're not blaming Grayson for this, we can lay most of the blame at her feet. But Dragomayor's not particularly good at this himself. He's done essentially nothing to make it better. Hell, the solution to this AND the whole "democrazy" problem is the same thing. Compromise. Find a middle ground.

      It takes two to tango, as they say.

      Dragomayor doesn't seem interested in seeing both sides of the fence. Just his. I support his "daughter in a coma first" stance to the end, he's doing the right thing, but being a jackass about it isn't going to wake her up faster.

      Relationships. Not actually confusing. Just a pain in the ass.

      I only wish he'd realise the easiest way to get back at Grayson is to act the good father, patch things up with Libby, and then support the dig.

    2. Oh, he definitely is partly to blame. Even if he proposed a compromise, Libby wouldn't go for it. She's kind of a douche like that.

  2. Okay...maybe we need to sit the two of them down, and make them drink until all the problems just pour outta their mouths and they DEAL WITH IT!