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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
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A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack The first year is available as a compilation on Amazon Kindle: https://a.co/d/gBLLL7E Audio and print versions will be available in the future. My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| Google has just did this whole "sensitive subject" clause on their properties, including blogger, which is what I currently use for Life With A Werewolf. This has frustrated me to no end. Life With A Werewolf is escapism, pure and simple. I take elements out of my life, friends lives, things I hear, etc... and make a sort of adventure horror story out of it. But there is occasional blood and violence. I've written about crime scenes and riots. Does this mean that those posts are hidden? So, I'll move the blog again. (Sigh.) If anyone has any ideas, I'm open to suggestions, but as of right now I'm thinking perhaps Kindle Vella. Update should come tomorrow on a lighter note. But it maybe afternoon or evening. |
| Those that know me know I’m not one for New Years resolutions. I’m the type of guy who typically says “My resolution is to not have a resolution.” Those usually go well for me. For some reason that’s a new year’s resolution that’s easy to keep! I know there are others out there who take a different approach. Gyms are stuffed right now with fat, sweaty, hungover bodies all trying to get in shape and get healthier, at least until beach season gets here when they all become fat, sweaty and hungover again with sand in embarrassing places. There’s not a problem with someone trying to make themselves a better person. But a small resolution like getting in shape can end up with someone taking on WAY too much too soon. Sure, it sounds simple, doesn’t it? Eat right, exercise. Wow. Not that hard in theory. However, it’s a bigger under taking than you might think. Cause when you choose to eat right, what you’re actually choosing is a lifestyle change. Think of every fast-food place you visit. I bet you have a common item you always get there. Probably cause that item has never let you down. Now, you have to either A) stop going to fast food, which means cooking. And let’s be honest, who has the time to do that right now? Especially with everyone getting a second or third job just to make ends meet in this economy, who has time to prepare home cooked meals anymore? So that means, B) finding something else on the menu that’s healthy. The problem with that is typically the “healthy” option is also the most expensive one, or one of the most expensive ones. And since fresh and healthy go hand in hand, you’re taking a gamble on whether they actually inspected the salad that day, or just shoved it in the back with the others. And that's not to mention sometimes the "healthy" option is only healthy in comparison to their other delightful heart attack inducing delicacies. Exercising is the second part of the equation. This actually goes pretty well. For the first two or three days or so. Afterwards parts of your body begins to hurt that you never knew you had. Parts of your self esteem you never knew you had begins to hurt as well as you see the guys who live in the gym walk around with the bodies of Atlas, and there you are looking at yourself in the mirror feeling like the globe Atlas lifts. That’s why I’ve always said the person who has the most will power on the planet is that chubby runner. That person who is overweight but sticks with it anyway. Despite feeling as if the eyes of every friend and neighbor out there is staring at them. They’re getting at it anyway and keeping it up, through body pain, through bad weather. I am cheering you on. Silently. From my room. Cause rain sucks and it makes my hip and knee hurt. Of course, I could always take the route Crash recommends. He says if I want to lose weight, amputate something. If his in wolf form, he’ll grin and snap his jaws in that way he does. Of course, I know he’s kidding. Though I still sleep with my pistol near my bed at night. I swear, I'm not paranoid. When you’re already injured certain things are out. Running, for one. Jogging for another. After my sprint through town when the vampire horde was chasing me, I hurt for the next week. Given my personality, I try to not gobble down handfuls of pills, and alcohol is just out. Which leads to drinking lots of water and increasing my sarcasm. Everyone just loves it when I’m in pain. Cause I’m a super nice guy and share the pain with everyone around me. If you’re losing weight or getting healthier in general, I applaud you and give you all the goodwill and credit that I can send your way. I do hope you get that goal, whether it’s to lose five pounds, or become the first ninety-year-old Olympic swimmer. Keep your goals small, keep after it every day and you’ll be amazed at what you can accomplish in twelve short months. I actually do have a new years resolution this year. Stay out of other people’s business. I’m going to keep my head inside, not say a word to others, let Crash do his job, and only help if it’s absolutely necessary. Yes sir, I’m going to not get involved in other people’s lives like that unless they truly want my help. You can count on me, I tell you! The way my neighbors carry on however, I know that resolution won’t last. Truly, I don’t go looking for trouble. I don’t have to. When trouble looks over the fence at me with sad puppy dog eyes and begs me to go intervene on its behalf, it doesn’t take long to find yourself in the middle of it. When I told Crash of the situation, he just chuckled, clapped me on the back said something to the effect of “better you, than me,” and walked off. Thanks Crash. I really appreciate the help. Yeah, that rant is coming next week. Trolls, I swear. Haven’t heard from Kris, Shawn or Zack lately, I know. Their latest updates are the usual. They go to work. They come home. They keep their heads down. You know, like I should really learn to do. I’d update more on them if there was more to update. But the gang keeps out of the entire werewolf and supernatural thing unless a certain vet is there to stir the pot up and get everyone involved. There is an art to leaving well enough alone that they have that I just don’t. If you’ve ever lived in a major city like New York, Pittsburgh or Atlanta, you know what I’m talking about. The ‘Not my house, not my problem’ attitude that keeps you out of trouble. Not lingering too long, not asking any questions, not stopping to help. Nope! Go about business, go home, ignore the random stranger streaking down the street claiming he’s Waffle Jesus. (Or is that Florida I’m thinking of, now?) One resolution that I’ll actually keep is to stop beating myself up about past mistakes. Those what if’s and if I’da’s. I’ve spent far too long pondering over how things might have been different if I’d only have done something as simple as go left instead of right. If I’d have said more to my ex-wife or if I’d have…. well, you get me. Those are endless roads to nowhere. They travel in circles, have you twisting over every mistake in your life and constantly trying to think of ways you could have fixed them. Past is meant to be remembered, yes. However, mistakes are meant to be forgiven. One thing I’ve learned this past year is forgiveness begins with yourself, and you can't rely on others for self-forgiveness. This past year has been very hard and at times therapeutic for me. This coming year, I’m hoping will be even better. But to make it better, I have to begin with today. Cause this day is all we’re ever given. The past is history the future’s a mystery as they say. Or used to say. Or something. I don’t know, I’ve heard it said somewhere. Maybe it was a tag line for a Scooby Doo cartoon? Point is right now is all we have. If you want a better life, what better time is there to start than right now? |
| A brief list of why I'm typically not invited to too many places around Christmas: 1) "No grandma, you have a thinking problem. Which leads to a talking problem. which leads me to drinking." 2) Telling kids the truth about Santa. 3) Telling kids the truth about Santa's reindeer. 4) Telling kids the story of Krampus. 5) Starting the Krampus movie for the kids during the Christmas party. 6) Getting a werewolf sized flea collar then giving it to Vic (the vampire doctor) and tell him it's an engagement ring. Putting Crash's name on it. 7) "Accidentally" scratching my cousins brand new SUV after she went on and on for over an hour about how big of a loser I was and how much better her former high school quarterback turned oil change jockey is than me to the rest of the family. 8) Turning all of the special toys on in my cousin's bedroom, setting them free from their hiding spot, then letting the dogs in the room with them. 9) Turning the TV to Foxnews in my liberal relatives house during Christmas dinner. Stealing the batteries out of the remote, hiding the remote, then leaving. 10) Turning the TV to CNN during Christmas dinner in my conservative relatives house during Christmas dinner. Hiding the remote after stealing the batteries out of it, then leaving. 11) Swapped the sugar out for salt in the sugar bowl. Made fresh coffee for everyone on Christmas morning! 12) Hid a bluetooth speaker in a return vent in the A/C system during a Christmas party. Started a music marathon with it. Two straight hours of "All I Want For Christmas Is You," by Mariah Carey. Followed by "All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth", then back to Mariah Carey. Party broke up early while people searched for the devilish device. (I'm still not allowed back at my Uncle's). Everyone's family drives them a little nuts at times over the holidays. I've not always had the most mature responses to these events. It's a wonder I haven't been shot yet! Some of these things I'm ashamed of. (Though that Mariah Carrey one was hilarious and worth the scorn, heh). But I do have my reasons. Well, I suppose you can call them excuses. These are the things that run through your head at night when the sleep doesn't come. The "I wonders" and "if I'd a's". I am convinced that's what kills more people than cancer, drunk driving and splinters combined; the "I wonder's" and "If I'd a's". I hope your holidays went over well. If they didn't, I hope your holidays went better than the ones I usually have with my family. Don't give into "I wonder". Don't give into "if I'da". All you ever have is now. Looking back on past mistakes with friends at times can be a laugh, but when you do it alone all I've ever known it to bring is tears and heavy drinking. This day is the only one you have. This moment is the only one you got. Please don't waste it looking back at past mistakes. Cause, like Crash says, "if you spend too long looking back, you can't see where you're going." |
| Khied made his way towards the little girl’s house. He wasn’t trying to be secretive. Didn’t feel much of a need to be secretive. “She entrusted herself to me,” he told his new assistant, “So I’ll turn that little girl. She’ll be the new Faenie.” With a touch and a little concentration, the large door at the back of the property opened. The assistant’s eyes looked wild, afraid. But he followed. In a jerky, manner as some unseen power pulled him along behind Khied. He looked between the houses as he went. Several of the lawn gnomes watched with anger and horrified disgust on their faces. Help me he mouthed to them, before he was pulled along inside. The inside of the house was much the same as the last. Large white walls, wood beneath, painted ceiling above. It was filled with familiar and unfamiliar materials. A strange and alien world for the taking. Khied moved through the area with all of the cabinetry, the stone ground and the large metal boxes towards towards the front. He heard the bus arrive. He waited. A dog came bounding towards him, his hackles raised, snarling and yapping. Khied touched him and forced a bit of power into the canine. It yelped one last time as it shrunk, fur hardening into a statue of a ceramic dalmation. “Much better,” Khied said and smirked. “I’m getting pretty good at this.” The little girl walked through the front door. It opened and closed with a slam. She threw a back pack on a piece of furniture in the front then stopped and stared down at the lawn gnome. “Uh…” She began. It was all she got out. Light emanated from Khied’s fingertips, enveloping the girl. She was pulled off the ground and began to float in the air. “Now,” Khied growled to his assistant. “We’re going to have a little transference. Sorry about this.” His hands glowed, the light began to pool and change colors. She wanted to scream but the words and sounds were trapped inside. All she could do was float and feel funny…fuzzy. The light grew blinding, then…it stopped. It reached down to his assistant and grabbed him, lifting him slowly from the ground. It grew brighter, almost painful. The assistant felt a tugging he said later. As if something was being pulled out of him. Then, it stopped too. Junith stood behind Khied. The entire gnome community behind her. She was pushing the light, manipulating it. The assistant was thrown backwards, towards the wall. His ceramic began to grow, it grew softer. It puffed upward and out until the cop lay where the old assistant was. “Don’t! It’s her only chance,” Khied shouted. He looked over at Graffur beside Junith. “Please! I’m doing this for us! Can’t you see, all of us!” Graffur snarled at Khied, a tear in his eye, then held his own hands up towards the light. He pulled more out with Junith, pressing and manipulating it. It exploded in a shower of sparks. A yelp like a dog could be heard from the other room. The girl fell to the floor. She shrank back from the gnomes, a look of terror on her face. “She’s dead! It’s your fault! She’s dead,” Khied shouted, charging Graffur. The older gnome grasped him, and twisted, throwing him down. Khied struck, punching him. The sound of ceramic slapping against ceramic echoed through the house. Several hands grabbed Khied. Junith walked forward then, and slapped him hard. Tears in her own eyes. “Where’s Khied Faenie,” she demanded. Khied glared back at her. “She gave me all she was,” he snarled. “I was about to bring her back.” “You,” Junith snarled, “was about to kill that girl.” “Necessary sacrifice,” Khied snarled. “You know nothing,” Graffur snarled at him. “You can’t be doing this! They protect us, and we protect them. It is our job to protect them from the baddies and the beasties, just like they protect us!” “They weren’t there to protect us from the dragon! From those little terrors next door smashing us to bits for fun. From their clumsy vehicles that occasionally roll over one of us, or one of them! They’re not there for anyone but themselves!” “How have I raised such a fool,” Graffur said. “They cannot protect you from yourself, Khied Falkurk. You chose to break into their home and you paid for it. You called the dragon and we paid for it. When you choose pain and death, Khied, you find it.” Junith held her own hand up. It glowed red hot with power. The other gnomes hold Khied backed away. For such a power is enough to smash a gnome. “You have until sundown to be gone from this community. Or I will make it so you no longer exist.” Khied maybe angry. Perhaps even quite a bit crazy. But he is not stupid. He scrambled backwards, fled through the remaining gnomes in the house, and towards the woods. He did not see what happened to the girl, to her dog. Though at a distance days later it could be seen they were playing happily in their back yard, and even talking to one of the lawn gnomes as if it could hear her. He never returned to the community. Graffur and Junith never saw Khied again. With each misadventure, he grew angrier. More twisted. Though at night sometimes, if you’re in the wood, you can occasionally hear him talking to Faenie. And asking her why. Please understand meaty ones, that not all lawn gnomes are such mean creatures as Khied. And perhaps it might do you good to have one. Signed, A gnome. *** After reading all of this, I must admit. I was surprised, shocked and wondered how much of it was true. I walked towards the woods. It was early morning. Crash had been on day shifts handling paperwork. Twin beady red eyes glared at me from the woods. “Not hard,” I said holding up the letter, “figuring out just who wrote this Falkurk.” “Falkurk is dead,” the voice replied. “There is only Khied.” “No,” I said, “what’s left of Falkurk I think is what wrote this letter.” “Why do you speak to me, meaty?” “Look,” I said. “I’ll go my way, you go yours. Live. Let live. Don’t touch my property. Don’t touch my friends.” “I cannot do that,” he said. There wasn’t a snarl in his voice. It sounded almost…sorrowful. “The world will be ceramic. It must be ceramic.” “Then I will give you the only kindness I can. Next time we meet, I won’t pull punches. I’ll shoot to kill.” “Next time we meet, you will be ceramic. And you will thank me.” I turned and went inside. The entire sad affair playing over in my head. I still wonder what had any of this accomplished? What will any of the conflicts actually do? I sat on the back porch staring out at the woods drinking coffee when Crash walked up. “What’s got you up so early,” he asked. I showed him the letter. Told him of the conversation after. “You can’t rescue some people,” he said. “You know this more than I do.” I nodded thinking of a few things from my last job. Things that I will not discuss in this blog. “Some just choose destruction.” He shrugged. “Some just choose themselves above others. Destruction always follows that.” I nodded, then clapped him on the shoulder. I wished him a good day, then watched Crash leave in human form and a shirt and tie. “Can’t wait to be back on nights,” he grumbled heading out the door. I smiled. “Yes, but when you’re on nights, you’ll wish you were on days.” “Paperwork sucks. How would you like a job?” I laughed. “You remember my last office job? How would you like to be fired?” He chuckled as he walked out the door. I watched him leave then took another sip of coffee and looked towards the wooded clearing near hour home. As I drank my coffee, I watched a pair of beady red eyes glare at me one last time from the wooded clearing. They pressed back into the darkness after that, and was gone. |
| The two new Khied’s stood around the body of Ms. Smythe. They had a small ceremony, just by themselves, honoring her as a lawn gnome should be honored. A simple ceremony that should be done with a whole community, but can be adjusted for just one. Khied Falkurk stood at her head, while Khied Faenie stood at her feet. They looked at each other in sorrow but love. Tears were in both of their eyes. It had taken half the night for Khied Faenie to pick the flowers that surrounded Ms. Smythe. She arranged them in a colorful pattern, the same way that we lawn gnomes arrange for ourselves. White lilies were near her head symbolizing purity. Red roses on her hands to symbolize life, and finally dark blue violets near her feet to symbolize her journey of passing from this world into the next one. Both Khied Faenie and Khied Falkurk raised their hands, and spoke a single word, drawing energy up from the Earth as they did. The body of Ms. Smythe crumbled inward, drying up into dust. As the energy faded nothing of Ms. Smythe’s body was left but a pile and a gust of wind blown in through the window, pulling the dust outward. The flowers dried up next, and followed, carrying them all on the wind. A single blue violet was left behind. It danced in the wind for a moment and came to rest at the feet of Khied Falkurk. “She gave a gift to you,” said Khied Faenie. “Quite the honor.” He gave a single nod in response, a gentle tear trickled down his cheek. “Her own kind abandoned her. Our own kind betrayed her.” Khied Faenie nodded. “It’s like neither side wants happiness. They just want to struggle.” “Sometimes,” Khied Falkurk said, “you have to force others to see the light.” Khied Faenie smiled slightly. “I was thinking the same. One day, this will never happen again. Not to us, not to them. We will show them what family truly means. And they will give us proper security.” Khied Falkurk had been rubbing his freshly shaven chin all night. He did so one more time with the flower in his hands. Then walked up to Khied Faenie. “It’s not from my beard,” he said, “but, I think it’ll do for our purposes.” He slid the flower behind her ear, then kissed her cheek. “Khied Faenie, I wish to marry you. But I have no community to do it with.” “Yet,” Khied Faenie said. “You don’t yet. But we will. Tonight, we start next door. The neighbors has one rambunctious little girl, who I always felt was more gnome than human.” “I will begin to draw power,” Khied Falkurk said. “I will do it right. No more mistakes. No more death.” Khied Faenie turned and walked back towards the window. “They will beg,” she said. She looked out at the lawn gnomes. It was early morning now. Every gnome in the neighborhood was in their proper spots. Every gnome had subtly turned away. As if they were turning their backs towards the Khied couple. “They will beg our forgiveness when we’re through.” “All flesh will be ceramic,” Khied Falkurk replied. They had been at the window for a while. They stood and watched the kids get on the school bus. They watched the parents go to work. It was strange to see their goings on and day to day activities out in the open like this. To just stand in watch, not trapped in a single pose for the meaties sake. No human seemed to ever see them or pay much attention. Except the one little girl, whom Khied Faenie had already said was more gnome than human. Her dark hair was braided in twin braids that lay across her shoulders on either side, almost like an imitation of Khied Faenie’s old locks. When their eyes met, the girl twisted around in her bus seat, turning her head back towards the front with a look of fear on her face. “See,” Khied Faenie said to him. “She shapes her hair like mine was, almost instinctively. I want her as mine.” “And she will be,” said Khied Falkurk. The car with the red and blue flashing lights arrived a few minutes later. It rolled down the street, and pulled into the drive, as if it owned the place. “Who’s that,” Khied Faenie asked. “Trouble,” Khied Falkurk replied. They heard the foot steps on the stairs of the back porch before they saw the two humans. They wore matching blue uniforms with strange caps on them. A brass symbol of some kind had been affixed to their breast. The two humans talked, and Khied said at the time he couldn’t understand them. Not like now, where translating human speech is almost second nature. He did recognize the name Ms. Smythe. He recognized “the others.” Which is what they called their special division in that community apparently. The ones whose job it is to police and maintain the community lines of those non-human entities like us lawn gnomes. They had both frozen in place, with Khied Faenie giving him a kiss on the cheek. The one human walked towards her, then shined his light down upon her. He muttered one word which Khied later learned was “weird,” then began searching the house. As they walked through, calling Ms. Smythe’s name, Khied Faenie began to follow the tall one. She stalked behind the human, her steps going slow. As he moved, she moved, making three steps for every one he made. Khied Falkurk followed behind, fascinated, watching them. Suddenly, a shout came from behind Khied Falkurk. Khied Faenie Leaped when the human turned, attacking his leg at the knee. The human shouted and kicked. Khied Faenie flew across the room, smashing against the wall. A large crack ran down her head. The world went red for Khied Falkurk. He didn’t know he summoned energy until the moment he felt it leave him and enter the human that had hit Khied Faenie. The human screeched in pain. It twisted and became a short yelp as he began to shrink. His flesh morphed and twisted, becoming hard, more ceramic. Khied Falkurk concentrated harder this time, willing the flesh to morph. Not blindly pushing power, but altering its flow when necessary. Soon, the tall human was no taller than Khied Falkurk. He had no beard, darker skin, but was a lawn gnome now, just the same. Khied Falkurk heard a thump from behind him. He turned, before he huffed. The world faded in and out. It fuzzed for a moment, but he concentrated just enough to see the human turning to flee the house. “They’ll be back,” Khied Faenie whispered. Khied Falkurk fled to her side on watery legs. “Oh no, oh Faenie,” he whispered. “Give me a moment. I can,” he huffed. His words chocking in his throat. “Give me your hand, Khied,” she said. “They’ll be here for their friend.” “Oh Faenie, I can fix this give me a moment,” he said, drawing power to himself. He looked at the former human, who stared at him dumbfounded now. Staring at his hands, then back at the two lawn gnomes. “Come here,” Khied Falkurk snarled. “You’re going to help fix this!” He shook his head faster, but took a step anyway on shaky legs. As if he couldn’t stop himself from moving towards his new master. “P-please d-don’t make me,” the former human whimpered. Khied Falkurk waved his hand over to the human, and was about to grab him, to transfer his ceramic over to Faenie, when Faenie huffed, “do you trust me, Khied?” He looked down at her. A single tear rolled down his cheek again. He nodded. She grabbed his leg, then whispered a single word that meant “unite”. Power flowed into Khied Falkurk from Khied Faenie. As it did, her body began to dry up from her feet. He felt a surge of power, control and knowledge enter him. “Please no,” whispered Khied Falkurk. “No.” She touched him one last time on the leg and smiled. “It’ll be alright,” she said. “Now we’re together. Forever.” Her waist and chest dried up, followed by her arms, and her head. It shriveled into a fine powdery dust that was grabbed by the wind. A single flower was left behind. The blue violet that he had given her earlier. Khied picked it up, his eyes now glaring. He stuffed the flower into his hat then turned to the human, glaring at him. The former human waved his hands proctectively, stepping backwards. “L-listen, we had no idea what we were walking into,” he started. “Come here,” Khied Falkurk snarled. On shakey legs, the former human walked forward. “P-please,” he muttered. “I have a family.” Khied Falkurk reached for his front pocket, grabbing the pair of shades he saw there. “Yes, you do,” he snarled. “I’m your family.” A single tear rolled down his cheek one last time. “We will honor her memory,” he said. “Both of theirs.” “W-who are you?” He looked at the scared former human. “W-what are you?” “Me?” the lawn gnome thought for a moment. “They call me Khied,” he said. “And we’re going to make them regret it.” |
| Now I know you humans don’t understand what magic can do to someone, seen as how you got all the gadgets but none of the pretty sparklies like we gnomes. So, I’ll explain it for you. Imagine you’ve just ran a race. A good long race up and down hills, across valleys and through forests. A race so long that even your hat feels tired. That’s what Falkurk felt. He collapsed to the floor for a moment. Took two deep breaths, then stood, walking over to the window on watery legs. Outside was total chaos. The dragon swooped down, strafing the street. From his vantage point, he could see two tiny individuals under the scaley beast’s arms. Falkurk couldn’t see much, but he did see only one gnome had a beard. The rest of the neighborhood was running in panic, running back between the houses, huddled under bushes, struggling to find cover where ever they could find some. There was gnomes trying to build a resistance of some kind by a playground near the corner, but the dragon largely ignored them. It made a large swoop through the neighborhood as if taking one last look, then flew on into the distance. Falkurk later said that it felt as his very heart had shattered that night watching the dragon fly off with the gnomes under its arms, with its ceramic coppery wings glistening in the distance. His knees buckled. He said it felt like the floor gave way and the entire world was in free fall. He braced against the wall, tears in his eyes. Faenie walked up to Falkurk and hugged him tight. “Things are going to be okay now,” she said. “You see? This is what the humans have. None of their children were carried off, where they? Their greatest enemies is just each other. They’re having no fear in these wooden castles. And now, neither shall we. We shall be like they are.” He turned to her, clenching his fist. “Did you not just see the dragon cart off our kin?! What is wrong with you Faenie?” “You said you trusted me, remember?” She pointed at the creature as it attempted to crawl across the floor. A sad whimpering sound came from it whenever it placed a new ceramic hand down. “She’s one of us now! She’ll help us, protect us. We’ll help her and guide her. We’ll live here happy. No more worrying!” “She’s hurting, can’t you see? Look at her!” The creature whimpered then laid back on the floor. “I’m okay,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I’ll be okay.” But it was obvious she wasn’t okay. There was a trail of ceramic dust behind her. She was corroding away before their very eyes. “We can fix her,” Faenie said. “You have the strength in magic, I have the wisdom. It will take a bit, but we can get her repaired good as new!” Graffur strode in through the back door with a group of lawn gnomes behind him. They all wore the grim face of an executioner at the gallows. “I’d have never thought it,” he said, walking over to Falkurk. “My own son. After everything I taught you. Every warning I gave!” A crowd of lawn gnomes came in after him. “Forbidden,” was said by someone in hushed tones. “Rotten” someone else said. They huddled around the creature that was Ms. Smythe, looking down at her with a mix of sorrow and horror upon their faces. Graffur dragged Falkurk forward, tears in his eyes. “Did you do this?” The creature that used to be Ms. Smythe looked up from her place on the ground. She tried to smile, but the pain forced it into a grimace. “I didn’t,” Falkurk said. “Then who?” Falkurk refused to meet his glare. Graffur stepped closer, and pointed down at the creature crawling on the ground. “Who created this abomination?” He looked up at his dad, his lip quivering. “Faenie said she was seen. I was trying to talk to her and well,” Everyone stared at Faenie, who smiled as though nothing was wrong. “We all could see she was lonely. No one came. How many of their festive holidays did we watch the meaties have and skip over this poor woman. How many times did they just forget she existed? It’s like she dropped off the earth. Lived in a hole amongst them. Now she’s one of us! Our magic can heal her. She’ll be whole again! You’ll see. We’ll live as one happy family now. We can live in here, with no need to hide anymore.” “And do what,” Graffur growled. “Sing and dance while the humans come and see what exactly is wrong? How long do you think it will be before we’re all smashed to bits? Did you ever stop to think about that?” “Well,” Faenie said, tapping her lip thoughtfully. “We can turn the neighborhood. Shan’t be that hard, cannit?” Graffur gave her a hard look. He was about to reply, but Ms. Smythe’s groan of pain said more than anything he could. The gnomes began to part, and an older gnome stepped forward. When Faenie saw her braided grey hair and the disappointment and sorrow on her face, Faenie looked hurt and shameful for the first time. “M-mom I…” Faenie began. “Don’t speak.” Elder Junith said. “For I already know.” She pulled energy from the Earth, not as much as Falkurk. But then, she didn’t need as much for what she was doing. She walked to the creature that was Ms. Smythe, and lightly touched her head. A soft white light glowed from her hand down into the creature when she touched her. “We cannot heal you, Ms. Smythe,” she said. “But I give you back your name and I give this kindness to you; that after tonight, you shall have no more pain.” Junith stood then glared at Falkurk, then Faenie. “Who was on watch for the dragon?” “I was,” Falkurk said, his eyes cast to the floor. “Instead of watching for the dragon, your stunt called the dragon to us. Dunkirk and Llyda, newly wedded here upon this very land, are now gone. Dinner for the stone beast,” she snarled the word beast, then glared over at Falkurk. “We are lucky no one else was caught. You Falkurk, who shown so much promise. You Falkurk. You Faenie.” She reached behind herself and pulled a knife. “You have destroyed three lives tonight with your greed. This cannot go unpunished. Faenie,” she stepped forward, and grabbed a braid. “You are no longer my daughter.” The knife cut quick through it. The elder threw it to the floor. “You no longer have a name.” She cut through the other braid, and threw it to the floor next to the first. “You no longer have a family. You are cursed! Khied shall be the only name you know. Hunger and greed are the family you have chosen, and it’s the only family you will have, until the day that it destroys you.” Graffur grabbed the knife from the elder. “And I, Graffur, say to you, Falkurk,” “Dad, please! Listen,” Tears filled Graffurs eyes. He held the knife strong as the hands of strong male and female gnomes pulled Khied to the floor. Graffur knelt over him, his tears wetting Falkurk’s face. “You no longer,” he began to saw through the beard.” You…no longer,” he sputtered with a single shuttering breath. “Dad…I’m sorry. Please dad, I didna mean to, dad…” “You,” he said again, as the blade cut halfway through the beard. “Are no longer Falkurk.” He continued sawing, the knife moving back and forth. “Dad….” He gripped more of the beard, throwing the hairs behind himself. “You…have no family.” The blade went through the rest of the beard. Strong hands gripped his head. The knife pressed against his chin. Falkurk stared up into the hurt of his father. Tears fell against his face. “I curse you,” Falkurk said, scraping the blade against his chin. “Khied is your name. Hunger and greed,” The blade scraped the left side of his chin with a loud scrape of ceramic, “be the family you have chosen.” The knife scraped the other side now. A fresh white powdery scratch appeared on his chin from the effort. “Hunger and greed be your family now! Until the day they destroy you.” He stood. The hands slowly let go. One by one the gnomes left in silence. Junith paused at the door and took one last look at the gnome that was once Faenie, then turned without saying a single word. Faenie looked stunned, her jaw dropped, tears in her eyes. It was as if the thought of being punished for this had never entered her mind. Graffur stared down at the gnome that was once Falkurk, glaring at him through his pain. After everyone else had left, the son attempted one last time to talk to his father. “Dad…” “I….have no son,” Graffur said then left. The gnome that was Falkurk laid in the floor, staring up at the ceiling. His breath came in harsh gulps and huffs, his teeth gritted. A soft scraping sound could be heard. Like ceramic scraping over stone. Finally, a large arm laid over him. “It’s alright,” The creature that was Ms. Smythe said. “At least we’re together.” Falkurk touched her hand, and turned to look into her beady eyes. “Are you alright?” Ms. Smythe smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I do not hurt now. And I am not alone.” She laid down her head then, and closed her eyes. Khied now, no longer Falkurk, placed his hand upon hers. Hot tears stinging his eyes as he felt the last of her life energy leave. Ms. Smythe was no more. |
| Days growing shorter and colder to a lawn gnome means more freedom. The less humans are about the more we can move and be free to do the things that are necessary for our own survival. The world may grow chilly and icy for you, but for a lawn gnome it’s all the same as a spring summer day. That’s the advantage of having ceramic instead of meat for flesh. But you meaty ones certainly can build more things than us, reach higher and farther. Your imagination and ingenuity are wonderful things that have gotten you far; those vehicles you ride around in to do various things being just one of the wonderful inventions you’ve built for yourselves. However, whether you have ceramic or meat for flesh, you can still covet. When what you covet burns into jealousy, it warps you. It becomes easier to harm those you know very little about. Less of a problem to hurt or kill them as long as you get when you want. I’ve heard it said that the love of gold be the root of evil. The front door into our hearts that swings open wide for evil and darkness to enter and take control. If that’s so, then coveting be the side door. Through covet you get jealousy. Through jealousy comes rage. From rage only comes death. No one knows just how long Faenie was sneaking into Ms. Smythe’s house at night. It was easy for her to do. Her spot in the day time was in Ms. Smythe’s very yard, close to the back of the hedge that divided the properties. She was out of sight of just about everyone in the village, so no one could watch her. Ms. Smythe was a trusting soul for a human. She never locked her doors, never had a dog or cat of any kind. It was easy for any gnome to slip inside and borrow and item or two before returning it if we needed. It was something we in the village had done plenty of times prior when we needed something. Though we always attempted to return it with a little extra. The days had grown short with the approach of winter. The village kept its nightly vigil against the dragons, Falkurk included. His watch was closer to dawn, just as the sun was preparing to break the horizon. On that night, he stood by the hedge at the edge of his lawn, eyes towards the sky, scanning in the manner that had been handed down in that position. “Falkurk,” Faenie whispered, pressing her head through the bush. There was a look of panic on her face that Falkurk had not seen before. “What is it Faenie?” She pulled her hat down off her head, and held it, fear caused her lip to tremble. “I need your help.” “I’ll be happy to give it to you,” Falkurk said. He swallowed and looked back to the sky. “But I’m on watch, I cannot leave this post.” “But Falkurk, I did something terrible. I need your help.” He looked down at her again, taking his eyes off the sky. “What did you do, Faenie?” She took a single shuttering breath, then expelled it. “I was seen, Falkurk. I was seen.” He stepped forward, away from his post. Falkurk later said his belief was that the dragon had made attempts last month, but hadn’t been seen for some time. That perhaps that particular dragon had moved on, going towards warmer, happier and easier targets in the south. He followed Faenie, who moved across the road, through the neatly trimmed hedge of Ms. Smythe’s front yard, and up the steps to her back porch. It was a wonderous world that he’d only ever glimpsed through windows. Wood carved into the floor, into the walls. The very ceiling upon the porch was made of wood! As he went through the back door, he saw counter tops made from a stone much harder than his ceramic. He saw furniture made again from wood, lights that required no fire; it was as if the humans had captured the very light from fire itself to illuminate their homes. Ms. Smythe lay in a heap on the stone floor. She rubbed her head, groaning in pain. “What happened,” she gasped, then looked up, setting her eyes on Faenie and Falkurk. She let cry a gasp of terror, then scooted back towards the wall. “Demons from hell,” she sputtered, “begone demons! Begone!” Falkurk gripped his hands into fists, then began drawing on the floor with a fingertip. There was nothing for him to draw with or in, but it was the motions that mattered, not if anyone could see it. He felt power begin to flow upwards from the Earth. It started flowing through the floorboards, through the very walls itself. His chest grew mighty and powerful with it. As he began to pull more to prepare to speak, Faenie whispered into his ear, “Do you trust me?” He almost faltered then, but nodded. Faenie whispered, “then draw more. Do not speak yet. Keep drawing in power. As much as you can hold.” Falkurk was confused, but he did as she asked. His eyes stayed on Ms. Smythe’s, whose grey hair now hung in ragged clumps. A red substance was running down her head, something that Falkurk didn’t recognize then. He’d recognize it now, though. “P…P..lease…” Ms. Smythe muttered, shivering as if cold. Faenie grasped Falkurk’s hand, and began to drag him over to the injured woman. She pressed it downward upon her ankle and shouted a single word, a command in gnomish which means RELEASE! The power flowed from Falkurk. It illuminated the entire living room, making every window shine like the noon day in summer. The energy flowed from his hand, into that ankle that Faenie touched his hand with. Then something began to happen. Ms. Smythe began to change. Her skin wrinkled, then cracked, she cried in pain and terror as the meat started to morph, pulling away from the old skin. It hardened, growing into ceramic. The change rolled up her leg and towards her torso. The terror on the old woman’s face over rode the pain she felt then. It rolled and roiled upwards, going through her chest, down her limbs and finally to her head. A white flash of light pulsed, followed by a shockwave. Every window in the house shattered outwards, every glass in the kitchen broke in a jangle of notes. The creature that was Ms. Smythe sat back, muttering. “Muh…muh…” Her eyes now black beady points instead of regular or gnomish eyes. She cast her eyes towards the windows in fear and terror. “D…d….” she began. “Yes!” Faenie cheered. “What happened,” Falkurk said dumbly. He shivered, for a moment, feeling cold from the loss of power, falling to one knee. “I was just trying to talk to her. Tell her not to tell anyone. Faenie, what did you do?” “D…d…” Faenie just shrugged, and walked over to her. “What we did is help her! She’ll live longer now! And she’s ours! She can be our pet, can’t you see? Isn’t this great, Falkurk?! Though, we’ll have to get this fixed,” Faenie tapped the old woman’s now ceramic head. There was a small crack in it. “Faenie, was that you?!” Faenie shrugged. “I had to keep her in the kitchen, so she wouldn’t lock the door. It’s not like I could tie her up. She’ll be okay, won’t you Ms. Smythe?” “D….d…” The creature that was Ms. Smythe continued to babble, staring out the window, a look of terror on her face. Falkurk rubbed an ear. “It was so bloomin loud, too! Like sticking your head in a thunder bolt.” He walked over to Faenie and snarled “I should shatter you.” Faenie smiled. “But you’re not, are ya?” then embraced Falkurk with a kiss. “D…d…” The creature that was Ms. Smythe said. “No, I suppose not,” Falkurk grumbled, as the kiss broke. His ears were slowly recovering. They both looked down at the creature that was Ms. Smythe, staring into her eyes. The beady eyes had a far away look of terror in them. “I’m sorry miss. I didn’t know,” Falkurk said dumbly. “D…d…” Ms. Smythe said again. “But now, you won’t be lonely,” Faenie said, smiling. “We’ll move the whole village in here. You’ll be happy with all of us now as new friends. You’ll see. We’ll have a grand old time, it will be like, harvest! Every day!” “Faenie,” Falkurk started, then heard a shout from outside. He rubbed an ear and looked over towards the window. “What was…” he began. “Dragon…” the creature that was Ms. Smythe whispered. |
| Falkurk’s footsteps felt lighter than air. He twirled as he came to his resting spot with a giant grin on his face. His father, Graffur, watched Falkurk come to his spot with a characteristic snarl. Graffur was an older gnome, with a beard that reached almost down to his knees. His face was permanently scowled below his red pointed hat. “Who touched you, varmint?” Falkurk blinked and stepped back and turned to his dad. “I was out with,” “I saw who you were out with,” He snarled. “Whole damn community saw who you were out with. Cracked Faenie.” Falkurk sputtered for a moment. “She’s not cracked!” “Hush your shouting! You’ll wake up the meaties.” Falkurk and his father had a spot below the bedroom window of twin ten-year-old boys. The twins had hit that rambunctious age, the one where boys are known to break things like us lawn gnomes for little to no reason at all. Humans of that age, especially boys, are dangerous to us lawn gnomes. Imagine the terror of not being able to move while a human boy is holding a hammer or a club above your head and preparing to smash you in to pieces! “Dad,” Falkurk said in a hushed growl, “She’s right about one thing. We don’t belong out here! Always fighting dragons and dodging children. Waiting for the day when the humans tire of us and sell us off in one great yard sale or just throw us out. Then we have to sneak into another thrift store. Then it’s more turf wars, more struggles. Why can’t we live inside? Be safe for a while?” “Bah,” Graffur rolled his eyes, “be like them? Stressing and worrying all the time over this and that? Fretting until you fret yourself into a grave? We’re lawn gnomes, Falkurk. This is the lot we’ve been given in life. Sure, they maybe little terrors young, but they take care of us, and we take care of them. What you’re talking about is madness.” “If you just listen to her, you’ll see Faenie makes a lot of sense.” “And I know you’re full of more crap than those meaties. You shan’t be seeing that gnome no more. She’s fillin yer noggin with cracked ideas. It’ll get you killed Falkurk. Or worse!” Falkurk clenched his fists, and turned, snarling into the night. It was dark now, and at least no one could see his anger. His snarls. “You’re a good gnome,” Graffur said to him. “But our place is here. We need the outdoors. We don’t need roofs and bills. We need sunshine and wind. We can’t go inside. It just isn’t right.” The warnings of his father rang through Falkurk’s head. But parental warnings can never stand against a young love sprouting through a young heart. It hasn’t had the harsh winds and freezing rain of reality to temper it yet. This is why gnomes wait so long to get hitched, sometimes as long as fifty years or more. We want to ensure a love bleeds true, and not just burn hot for a season. Falkurk felt he didn’t have that long. What he had was the look of a lass named Faenie and a desire to do whatever she wanted to be hers as quick as possible. So, it was no surprise that warnings be damned Falkurk spent the next evening sitting in the back yard of Ms. Smythe’s house, staring through her window, with Faenie leaning against him. “I like coming out here at nights,” she whispered to him. “I like watching her. I enjoy wondering what they’re doing. They got all sorts of things inside. She has this box that talks to her and shows her plays. She’s got a machine to play her music. It would be nice to have those things.” Falkurk gripped the ground, grass beginning to tear in his fist. “If we had that, then we wouldn’t hear the dragons when they attack. We wouldn’t hear the humans before they come home. Imagine us listening to music and the damn kids come by with their hammers and clubs. We’d all be smashed to bits!” “You’re so cute when you’re daft, you know that,” Faenie smirked. “We wouldn’t have to worry about any of that if we were inside. We could play music all night long! All day, too. No need for hidin no more. No need for keeping vigil against the dragons. No need for nothin but sunshine all day, and all night too with their magic light.” “But Faenie, it does us no good.” Falkurk turned to look at her. “We’re out here. They’re in there. Why, it takes great effort and magic to even talk to them! How are we going to convince them to just swap places?” “When the day comes,” Faenie said, “they won’t have a choice.” “What do you mean?” “I can’t tell you yet.” Faenie whispered. “I’ve got a few things to setup first. Do you trust me?” “You know I do Faenie. I just have no idea of what you want.” “What I want,” Faenie said, “Is for you to hold me tonight. And tomorrow night. And perhaps the night after that. And the one after that.” She snuggled in close while he held her. They whispered to each other sweetie things. What it might be like to live in a house instead of on a lawn. What might the humans be doing inside. How many things could they honestly fit inside the house anyway? The strange and cute language of young passion that takes on the in-jokes of in-jokes of all young cuddlers wishing to be lifelong lovers. When he returned to his spot, Graffur snarled at him, “You be forgettin something tonight?” “No,” Falkurk said, then his eyes lit up. “Oh crap! The Vigil!” “Aye, the dragon’s vigil. You forgot it. I covered your watch. Tonight. Do it again, and you’re losing one of your gold rings.” Falkurk touched his beard. His two gold rings that he worked so hard to earn. “Won’t happen again, don’t worry.” “Good! Neither will you be seeing that cracked Faenie anymore.” “That will happen again. You can’t stop me, you have no cause to.” “She ain’t right, son. She’s seeking to upset the natural order. To crack the world like a stone egg! Can’t you see? Be reasonable, Falkurk!” Young passion is not reasonable. It is why us gnomes take so long before declaring our love. Before going further than simple hugging and hand holding and whispering. Cause young passion burns bright like a white hot. It takes time for that love to burn down into love. Time that Falkurk was not sure he had. As he waited there that morning, Faenie’s words rang through his head, much like they did many years after. “You’re cute when you’re daft… Do you trust me?” At that moment, he had no idea why, but he did. That was the most dangerous thing of all. After all it’s blind trust untempered by experience that causes the greatest disasters. |
| This appeared in my inbox some several months ago. It was right about after the Nobility thing and I was trying to wrap my head around all the shenanigans and goings on with that whole mess to get it down. Must have read through this ten times going back and forth on posting this. I finally decided to post it because it does give you a glimpse into the mind of Kheid and his world, the exact way it works. It also tells us something that I’ve kind of wondered about since I’ve known him. Just about every other lawn gnome has a beard but this one. Why? What causes him to be so…him? The letter will be posted in its entirety, though it will take a few updates to get the it all down for you. I do hope you enjoy it, and enjoy Thanksgiving next week. - Jason Forte *** Dear humans, I feel the need to write to you about this subject. You’ve had interactions with us in the past, so you know a small bit about our world and our wars. What you don’t know is why the one who calls himself Kheid is attacking you. Nor do you understand why he’s beardless and must remain so for the rest of his existence. I hope this will explain it. To start with, you must understand a gnome’s beard is more than his pride. It’s his honor, his family. Its much like your last names are for you. If you can read a gnome’s beard, you know where he comes from, what he’s done in life, how he’s done it. Whether that gnome is a warrior, a nobleman, a farmer. What clan his kin come from. To whom he’s married. A beard can tell you all of this and more; and requires many years to learn how to read them. The one you know as Kheid was once young gnome called Falkurk. He had a glorious beard. Many will say his beard was the most glorious of any gnome who ever existed, but they are wrong about that. It still was glorious however, with two rings at the bottom indicating his status as a warrior, a braded mustache indicating his family’s noble lineage with three braids on each side to indicate his exact family. He still had dark streaks of black through it showing his youth, and though he was young, he already had leadership skills. When our village came under attack from a dragon, it was Falkurk who helped organize the resistance and ensure no one was lost to a dragon’s lunch. When the rain came in too heavy from the gutters, it was Falkurk who organized where the vegetables should be moved to, so they could be harvested without the humans knowing we’re moving. Falkurk was a good gnome. He wasn’t the greatest, grandest gnome you’d have ever had the pleasure of seeing in ceramic. But he was a good one. One the elders in our small neighborhood villages said he had the potential to become an elder himself on day. To be one of the few younger gnomes to reach the rank of elder. That’s what made his fall such a tragedy. The assumption is the best of all are the ones who fall the farthest. But no, I tell you meaty ones, it isn’t so. It’s the good ones, not the greatest who fall the farthest. Cause falling is easy and everyone does once in a while. But the good ones find it the hardest to stop. Like the greatest of tragedies, it all started with a girl. I’ve seen human love in it’s wonderful, strange, and sometimes angry and violent manners. I’ve known promiscuous humans who leave each other at a second glance, and nice humans who just wanted to stay together forever. With gnomes, it’s a bit different. Gnome love is nurtured and cultivated over decades. And when two of us lawn gnomes decide to get married, we don’t just sign a paper from the court house. A gnome marriage requires a single strand of beard from yours and a strand from her hair. They are woven in intricate ways into each, in a long ceremony that is witnessed and celebrated by the whole village. They can be gussied up with rings or ribbons, or sometimes even being dipped in golden ceramic. It is a long but beautiful ceremony filled with loving promises, and more than one joke thrown out from the crowd gathered to witness. They last from sunrise to sunset symbolizing their love and desire to stay together for all time. It was at one of these ceremonies that Falkurk’s life began to take a turn. Faenie was pretty. Everyone could see that. The lass that melted his heart had a wink that could make even you humans stop and take a look. But when she was formed there was a hole in her spirit. A place where the ceramic didn’t form just right. A crack that she desired to have filled. A hunger that was deeper than greed, and twice as vicious. The ceremony of Dunkin and Llydsa was carefully planned. You humans would walk by and see nothing but a few lawn gnomes sitting out in your front garden planting crops. But when you weren’t looking, as the daylight burned to twilight, Dunkin and Llydsa would be seated on two great pumpkins entwining and promising their everlasting love to one another. She stood behind Llydsa, in view of Falkurk. He saw her sly grin and the twinkle in her eye. But what drew her to him was the wink. That beloved wink that would make the whole world stop. When Falkurk saw it, he didn’t care about careful planning and placement. He didn’t care about being seen. He walked right over to Faenie and stood beside her. “Hello,” he whispered, as Dunkin and Llydsa continued their twinings. Llydsa’s red hair was over her shoulder, Dunkin’s beard was in her hands and Llydsa’s hair was in his. Their promises and musings drifted into gentle whispers that the crowd began to cheer on in our own gnomish way. “Hello back,” She whispered. “I’m Falkurk.” Faenie gave him another wink and said, “I know.” They stood and watched a while, together. Slowly, she reached over, and began to twiddle his beard with her fingers, running them along the dark streaks. Falkurk blushed, but continued to stare on, his heart racing faster than his mind. “W-who are you?” “I’m Faenie. Daughter of Elder Junith.” “Go on, kiss her you fool!” One gnome shouted from the back. Dunkin looked up from his lovely beauty and smiled upon them. “Go ahead,” he said, “I don’t mind.” Ms. Smythe was the elderly human that lived in the house of Dunkin and Llydsa’s lawn. It was upon that lawn that the ceremony was held. Ms. Smythe came home, pulling up to the house, just as Falkurk bent over to give Faenie a kiss. The gnomes all froze of course, waiting in a single spot for her to pass. Dunkin and Llydsa was bent, tending crops. The crowd around them, was paused in various poses. At least that’s what it appeared to Ms. Smythe, who shook her head in bewilderment as she walked past with a bag of groceries under one arm. “I don’t remember setting them that way,” she muttered. When she was gone, Dunkin and Llydsa went back to whispering gentle love promises to each other as they continued weaving. The whispers, kisses and promises went on as the sun set, until finally, beneath the full moon light, they both stood; him holding her hair, she holding his beard. When they stood up and held each other’s hair, facing the crowd Elder Junith stepped forward. “An old love has been woven together. And so, it has been blessed, perhaps,” she looked back at her daughter with a wink, “with new love to sprout. Let each and every gnome have no doubt about the long life they shall have together.” As the gnomes cheered, Faenie grabbed Falkurk’s arm and whispered in his ear, “let’s get out of here.” And they slipped out between the bushes, around the white house to the fence in the back. Faenie and Falkurk watched the home as the windows winked out one by one, as if the house itself was going to sleep. “I wonder what it’s like in there,” Faenie whispered. Falkurk shrugged. “Not a lot of ceramic. Think it’s all flesh inside?” Faenie chuckled. “What like them?” Falkurk blushed and looked down. “Maybe not exactly like them.” “I want one,” she said in a hushed tone. “A home for my very own.” “Well,” Falkurk said with a thoughtful tone. “I know how to reach Ms. Smythe. We can ask and get her to get something, will take some time to convince her.” Gnomes have their own way of communicating with you meaty ones. It’s a special method handed down from generation to generation. After all, we cannot just talk to you like we talk to each other and writing letters usually does us no good. Falkurk was good at communicating to you in his own way, though for any gnome it took effort. “No,” Faenie said. “I want that,” she waved her arms at the large two-story home in front of her. “I want the whole thing. We should live in there. We do more for them than they for us. We just sit here and wait and stare while they move about in their weird vehicles and carry about in their strange manners, growing feeble and dying off. We deserve to have more.” Falkurk listened to her, his eyes trained on Faenie more than the house. They sat up most of the night, talking and scheming. When he went back to his spot in the front lawn, his heart was large with thoughts of Faenie with no idea of the drama and danger that awaited him when he got to his lawn. |
| AMA number 2: Things had slowed down a bit here finally and I thought I might ask if anyone had any questions out there for us. I did get a few and I’d like to say thank you those individuals for asking and giving us an opportunity to answer. This was a lot of fun to put together, almost as much fun as it was to capture Kheid so he could answer his questions. We didn’t capture him on our own. We attempted at first, and was almost reduced to attempting to interview every lawn gnome in the county. That was why Crash got Larry to scrounge him up for us. Larry is a ceramic dragon, and works with the county part-time. He says it wasn’t easy, and now we owe Larry a basketball. A ceramic basketball. With a ceramic hoop preferably. So, if anyone has a lead on that, please let us know. Anyway, here’s a few questions posed by some of you. If you have more questions, please feel free to ask. I’ll be certain to collect the answers and put them in another update sometime in the future. Crash: - Q: You find out there is a human who writes a blog about your life? How do you react? A: I laughed. Then I reminded him if he reveals too much, I’d have to eat him. Jason: I still have silver bullets, you know. Crash: You’ll go to sleep sometime. Jason: I swear, if you do that thing again where all I see is your eyes and teeth in the darkness, I will shoot you. I about wet myself last time you did that. - Q: Was the job of County Werewolf forced on you or something you chose? If you had the option to pick another career, what might it be? A: Just kinda happened into the job. I was not forced into it, more stumbled into it and took it on. If it was really anything career wise, I'd pick something with space travel. Maybe howl at the full Earth. Jason: - Q: Assuming Crash knows about the wider fantastical/mythical community, has he ever had any such guests over to the house before or said why not? Also, what species would you consider to be the most mundane and most extraordinary member of the mythical that Crash has told you about? A: Crash has had a few members of the fantastical/mythical community before. His parents has visited once, which I promised to keep out of the blog. But yeah, that was fun, and kind of weird. The new minotaur neighbors has been over a couple times. They were the most mundane. Nice couple. Does a lot of yard stuff, and in general, just happy go-lucky people. Keeps their head down and doesn’t really get involved in anything. Why I haven’t written about them, yet. The most extraordinary are that way because they're so mundane. They're someone I’ll call Freddy. He’s a real-life unicorn, a bronie, and in general a fun loving, albeit slightly chatty geek. With no actual unicorn powers. His whole entire thing is complicated, and I might write about him one day, if I get the go ahead. Though, he’s still shy about the blog. Khied: - Q: Klyde the gnome king has been turned into a cactus. The throne is now open? However, per usual every gnome king does not seem to last very long. THERE IS NO GNOME KING BUT ME AND I WILL NEVER BE OVERTHROWN! YOU WILL ALL BOW DOWN AND WORSHIP… Jason: Khied, you promised to be nice or I will be forced to introduce you to Mr. Hammer. Khied: Dirty, human, you will pay when I finally have you in ceramic. No, there is no overthrowing Khied. It is not just my name, but my title. - Q: The end goal is world domination, right? What would lawn gnomes do with the world if they had it? You will learn when I have you in my grasp, filthy human. When you are all bathed in beautiful ceramic and finally rid yourself of your awful flesh and are part of the family! You will understand….ow! Jason: Kheid, either you be nice, or next time I break something. Khied: Filthy human scum doesn’t know his place. Once we conquer the world, we must fix the world. After the world is beautiful and ceramic, we will work on finding other worlds to fix. We will bathe the entire galaxy in ceramic. Fix every other world until there’s nothing but us. |
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