wouldn't you like to know
Currently, only Friends (with a capital F for figured out your LJ name) are tormented with stories - if you want to be tormented as well, let me know.
This is actually a writers group assignment - 'take a tangent in a well known book, movie, tv show'. See if you can guess what it's from. Don't know if I will actually write more on this one.
We could start in the beginning, but of course there would be no mystery at all if we did. How about the not so distant past? I was bitter, one could say. But who would blame me? When my mother died, God rest her soul, she left me with no one. The people she knew were the kind of people that were nice to you when they needed nothing, or when they were afraid of you. The person that ‘inherited’ her tavern (which is to say, took it and was a big mean son of a bitch), sold me to pay off his gambling debts. I was actually pretty lucky, Mim - the woman who bought me - could have been much worse. She was some sort of Mongolian Asian mix, and had no notion of using me for more than good hard labor. I think she was a smuggler, but I’m not really sure. She traveled a great deal and bought and sold the strangest of items. While in her service, I learned a great many talents; fetch and carry, steal small objects, drive an oxcart, drive an automobile, dagger throwing, any old object throwing - you know, useful stuff. Though her route could take a couple of years, it was still a route - so eventually we ended back at my moms old tavern, in the wasteland at the end of the world. (I’m exaggerating, but only slightly)
I’m not sure how old I was when I got word from my father, but I still had a boys body and a boys disregard for any sort of rules (except Mim’s). A letter was left for me at my mothers tavern, and enough money to buy me from Mim and put a huge smile on her face. I was fiercely curious how someone had managed to get the big bastard who owned the tavern to be honest enough to give over the letter and cash, but I liked to think it had something to do with his new scar. Sadly, it probably had more to do with his new barstools.
The letter included information on where to go to get some money and take a rail to England. England! It really had to be nicer than the coldest wasteland on earth. The money really must have been good, because Mim took me to the railway herself.
Now here comes a very long part that I might just skip for now. I didn’t get to meet my father, only his attorney. I did get sent to a very nice school, where I learned a lot about languages, history, mathematics, Britain, and how to judge when dagger throwing, stealing of small objects, and eye gouging were not actually acceptable. Also how to actually behave like a ‘lady’. Though I received no actual word from my father, I did weasel out of the attorney that he was some sort of adventuring archeologist. Probably the kind of person Mim bought stuff from. Otherwise, where would all the money come from? Speaking of money, I got pretty good at squirreling away the money that was supposed to be used for various sundries that good old dad sent.
Along with this nice little nest egg, I gradually began searching out tidbits about my dad. My plan was pretty simple, find him, punch him. In the meantime, some silly part of me wanted him to be impressed, so I started learning more about his trade; archaeology.
This is actually a writers group assignment - 'take a tangent in a well known book, movie, tv show'. See if you can guess what it's from. Don't know if I will actually write more on this one.
We could start in the beginning, but of course there would be no mystery at all if we did. How about the not so distant past? I was bitter, one could say. But who would blame me? When my mother died, God rest her soul, she left me with no one. The people she knew were the kind of people that were nice to you when they needed nothing, or when they were afraid of you. The person that ‘inherited’ her tavern (which is to say, took it and was a big mean son of a bitch), sold me to pay off his gambling debts. I was actually pretty lucky, Mim - the woman who bought me - could have been much worse. She was some sort of Mongolian Asian mix, and had no notion of using me for more than good hard labor. I think she was a smuggler, but I’m not really sure. She traveled a great deal and bought and sold the strangest of items. While in her service, I learned a great many talents; fetch and carry, steal small objects, drive an oxcart, drive an automobile, dagger throwing, any old object throwing - you know, useful stuff. Though her route could take a couple of years, it was still a route - so eventually we ended back at my moms old tavern, in the wasteland at the end of the world. (I’m exaggerating, but only slightly)
I’m not sure how old I was when I got word from my father, but I still had a boys body and a boys disregard for any sort of rules (except Mim’s). A letter was left for me at my mothers tavern, and enough money to buy me from Mim and put a huge smile on her face. I was fiercely curious how someone had managed to get the big bastard who owned the tavern to be honest enough to give over the letter and cash, but I liked to think it had something to do with his new scar. Sadly, it probably had more to do with his new barstools.
The letter included information on where to go to get some money and take a rail to England. England! It really had to be nicer than the coldest wasteland on earth. The money really must have been good, because Mim took me to the railway herself.
Now here comes a very long part that I might just skip for now. I didn’t get to meet my father, only his attorney. I did get sent to a very nice school, where I learned a lot about languages, history, mathematics, Britain, and how to judge when dagger throwing, stealing of small objects, and eye gouging were not actually acceptable. Also how to actually behave like a ‘lady’. Though I received no actual word from my father, I did weasel out of the attorney that he was some sort of adventuring archeologist. Probably the kind of person Mim bought stuff from. Otherwise, where would all the money come from? Speaking of money, I got pretty good at squirreling away the money that was supposed to be used for various sundries that good old dad sent.
Along with this nice little nest egg, I gradually began searching out tidbits about my dad. My plan was pretty simple, find him, punch him. In the meantime, some silly part of me wanted him to be impressed, so I started learning more about his trade; archaeology.