A carpenter's absence

A carpenter's absence

Postby Dulcie » Sun Oct 23, 2011 4:13 am

"Miss Winifred, you mustn't touch dead things." The words and the memory of her childhood at the orphanage ran over and over again in her mind. She remembered herself as the little girl and the poor broken bird that layed on the stone road that led to the place that she had called home. She had only meant to pick it up, to try to make it well before the governess came running over to her. She had thought she had imagined it in those days, that she saw those eyes blinking with life again, for no one had ever spoken to her about it again, but now, well now she couldn't help but to wonder. There were far too many things unexplained in this place, things that she couldn't understand or even begin to comprehend. At first she had considered it a coincidence, the man outside of the ball, the poor soul on the side of the highway, even the squirrel in Drache's tower but she couldn't help deny the fact that in some way, somehow she was involved in all of this.

It had been easier to deny things when she had first met the Paladin, but now Fred wasn't even sure that she could do that. Could he tell the things that had happened since that first meeting? Would he give her a chance to explain herself? No, it wasn't something that she could take a chance on. The paladin might try to kill her and the poor carpenter was far too fond of her life to put herself in that position. It was time to leave this place, at least for awhile. Perhaps in a few months she could come back, explain to her friends why she had gone, or maybe make up a reason. After the paladin had time to forget about her that was. Surely there was other work to be had in one of the towns nearby. She refused to cry as she packed up her large sack of clothes and supplies, checking to make sure that she had cleared her room of anything that she might need for a trip to a new home, a new town. Tears were a waste of effort anyhow, she had a long walk ahead of her if she was going to find somewhere else to live.

She waited until evening when she was sure that the others were all asleep and in their beds before she'd pay the rest of her tab and be out away from the tavern, away from Myrken. There was no note for her friends, no explaination of where she was going or why she was leaving this place, there was only the open door to her vacant room left in her absence.
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Postby catch » Sun Oct 23, 2011 8:35 am

One needed to read in order to read notes, and one needed only a modicum of understanding when it comes to empty rooms, late-night walks, and shoulders full of bulging packs, and Catch had none of these things, so he did not understand as he followed Ser Fred, trailing in her footsteps very much like a drunken man. He was swaying, yes, as he attempted to put his own, big feet inside Fred's littler foot-trail, and yet he still managed to stalk along, a quiet, trailing, wistful dog. After awhile, he grew a little bored of his little game, and he broke into a jog, holding the satchel in two hands so it wouldn't be jostled unduly, his mismatched eyes riveted on Fred's distant, fast-approaching form.

"Ser Fred, where are we g-g-going?" he stammers, once he's close enough. He sounds cheerful, but he is wary, and dodges her slimy black-milk tendrils. It simply looked as if he were doing a mad, punch-drunk jig, for, of course, no one could see the viscous wicked that oozed from her skin. Catch had kept that a secret, firm between his teeth.
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Postby Dulcie » Sun Oct 23, 2011 8:50 am

Perhaps she would have turned sooner, felt that feeling of being watched and followed except that she felt that way all the time these days. It wasn't until Catch broke out into a run and started following her that she realized that it wasn't one fo the imaginary people trailing after her, it was someone real and corporeal. She turned at the sound of the footsteps, only to see him coming towards her, calling out to ask where they were going. She looked so horribly miserable as she shook her head vigorously, her hat threatening to come loose from where it kept her hair away.

"We arn't going any where Catch. I'm going away. I don't want to be here in this town any more, not right now. There's too many strange things and I don't want to be a part of them. I'm just gonna go away and be somewhere else for awhile. Find work in a different town. But.. but you can't come. You have friends here and they'd miss you and... and it's just better if I go away by myself. Do you understand that? It's bad for me to be here."

She looked at him imploringly, hoping that the mad man wouldn't have one of his crazy fits and try to drag her back into the town or something like that. She had made up her mind that she was going and she hadn't told anyone for just this reason. She didn't need anybody trying to convince her to stay.
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Postby catch » Sun Oct 23, 2011 9:04 am

Catch stopped in his tracks. And, miracles of miracles, he listened, a little frown of concentration on his face. He knew some things. He knew the Insect Knight would not like Ser Fred, because he tasted so different than her. He knew the Walking Man had had the same, wrong flavor. The woolen cap itched on his scalp; Ser Fred had given it to him, and she had taught him all about digging holes. These were important things for him, and Ser Fred was a friend. Catch hovered just out of reach of the darkling hisses, and he continued frowning at Ser Fred long after she had spoken her pieces.

"You h-have friends, too," Catch says, finally, but it is really the only thing he could think to say. He takes a deep breath, and plunges on, still doing his strange, little dance in place. "I know you're all c-c-covered in b-black milk, without any st-stars, b-but nobody sees it except me, and you know th-that Miss Niall is v-v-very sad she can't have your. Your storm-cloud ghosties about. And. And I th-think it's worth it, having s-some storm-clouds and maggoty men. It's worth Ser Fred."

Finished, he stands still for just a moment, just to get his breath back, and stares at her expectantly, with an expectant grin, as if all that would be more than enough to come back to her warm bed and warm room.
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Postby Dulcie » Sun Oct 23, 2011 1:42 pm

She paused and scuffed her toes in the dirt, looking down at the floor as he talked to her about having friends and being worth it. As he started talking about the black milk and the maggot men she got even more uncomfortable, barely peeking up at him from under her hat. Catch wasn't the best keeper of secrets, she was sure of that much and the last thing she really needed was him spreading stories about how she had brought the maggoty men to life.


"That wasn't me." She said as she looked back up at him, her voice wavering a little at first before her lie started picking up more confidence. "I don't have black milk and I don't make maggoty men.. so don't go telling anybody that I've been doing those things because I haven't. Just been in the wrong places at the wrong times. And.. and I don't make ghosts either. Maybe everybody just made it all up. Or maybe it's the Paladin guy's fault. None of it all started until he came along you know." She knew it was wrong the moment she said it of course, it was a lie and a mean one at that. It wasn't the paladin's fault, but here she was blaming him for it. It was probably one of the most wicked things she'd ever done and she'd frown a little.

"Or maybe it's not his fault.. but I know I have friends. That's why I've gotta go away, so that I can still have friends. I don't want to... I mean. I can't Catch. I've just gotta go. Nothing else to it." There was a tone of resolve in her voice then and she'd give him another little frown and turn away, heading back to the road.

"And don't tell anyone you saw me either. They don't need to know that I left. And don't follow me either. It's not gonna help an' I don't want you to."

And with that last statement she'd turn away and start walking again, hefting that pack over her shoulder and listening for the sounds of footsteps that might try to follow her.
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Postby catch » Sun Oct 23, 2011 2:07 pm

Catch didn't know what to say. He gaped at Ser Fred, who was lying. To him. Or was he mistaken? Catch looked at her, and saw the black that oozed like tears from her eyes, the slick bubble of black, like old blood, growing and popping between her lips as she spoke, swelling with each fetid breath. But he loved her, because she was kind to him. Was that terribly odd? Catch loved Pantha, too, and Iron Shoes reveled in the wicked that she did.

"I haven't t-t-told!" Catch calls to her, his voice anguished as she turned away. He hadn't. He'd tried so hard to keep it, and said nothing, even when everything was bad and terrible, and storm-clouds had frightened him, and the maggot man had come at him, shuffling and moaning and putrid.

And he did. He followed, dogged and silent, not taking particular pains to be quiet about it, breath steaming from his mouth and nose like triad jets. "I'm sorry, Miss F-fred," he finally calls out. "I h-haven't t-t-told. I promise, I won't. And. And m-mm-maybe I c-can. Can make all the milk g-go away?"
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Postby Dulcie » Thu Oct 27, 2011 3:42 pm

"Good, then don't start telling anybody now, 'cuz I'm not doin it." She stated again firmly, pausing on briefly to look back over her shoulder when she realized that he was still following her. Her expression was pained and even somewhat confused as she shook her head.

"Ain't nothing to fix. There's no black milk to make go away." Another lie and she knew it. How easily they were starting to come to her now, a defense mechanism. Catch might know things that even she didn't seem to fully understand, but that didn't mean that she couldn't convince him and everyone else that it just wasn't true.

"Go home Catch. They'll be missing you, and I don't want any company. I just need to be alone." She gave him an imploring look, hoping that she wouldn't have to be any more mean than that in her refusal of the mad man's help.
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