A relatively short section. Table of contents here.
There are now two major projects I am working on. One is the slow conclusion to the Lucy and Sam story, of which I have an update below. The second is the RPG I am making with RPG Maker. My initial goal is to use the in-built sprites/icons/etc. as place holders. Once I get far enough in I know that at least the first couple of chapters are a thing, I'll try and draft a sprite artist to help make things work. So! Project Update:
1. Lucy and Sam story: Probably about 20-30 more pages to finish.
2. Dreaming Path: First floor of the dungeon, first two PCs, and part of dungeon floor 2 complete.
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“Excuse me, I never got your name, miss.”
“I’m Lucy,” I said extending my hand to the older couple. They looked like they were in their dignified years, which is what my mom always said my grandparents were in. It was the polite way of saying ancient, so remember you might have to repeat yourself and speak up.
“Very good. Sheila was a wonderful woman,” the man said.
“She did a lot of great things for the children,” his wife said. “Not her kids, of course. She and that no-good-husband of hers never had any.”
“I’m sure they tried,” the man said. This was an awkward point in the conversation, so I broke in.
“Well! If that’s the case, maybe you should go home?” I said, having second thoughts. These were nice, normal people. I thought that revenge wasn’t such a hot idea after all. I mean, I had thought it through. Invite Jon’s in-laws and a bunch of the kids as a special guest, see Jon make an ass of himself.
But, I had yet to figure in that maybe, just maybe, those kids and the in-laws didn’t want to be a part of my revenge scheme. Until I saw them, face to face, in their powder blue dress and suit. Actually, I think that might just be powder on a blue dress. It isn’t the weirdest thing my generation has seen on a blue dress.
“Why would we go home? We came all this way.”
“What if I told you what Jon was going to say? That way, you can hear it without having to wait!”
“It wouldn’t be the same. I want to hear it from his mouth.”
“You could use your imagination,” I suggested. “I hear people’s voices all the time.”
The two of them exchanged a look. It was the look my parents always exchanged when I introduced them to my boyfriends. It was something like ‘She’s your daughter;’ ‘Oh, I get it. When she gets the honor roll, she’s our daughter. When she bring homes Mad Max she’s my daughter;’ ‘She was also your daughter when she had a poopy diaper.’ Looks can say a lot.
I tried to give them a look that said: ‘Please believe me.’ It did not work. Instead, they said they wanted to go take their seats, so I let them go. Not without one more attempt at puppy dog eyes. Puppy dog eyes always worked on my grandparents. Grandparents are easily manipulatable. Sort of like college boys. Only they have different expectations; grandparents expect you to give your parents trouble. College boys are hoping you don’t get in trouble.
The wheels of revenge were turning, but after seeing the flesh and blood people, I started to think of the fallout that comes from revenge. Sort of like why Christine thinks we didn’t bomb Japan. “No one would be stupid enough to do that,” She’d say. “It’d just irradiate everything else. Stop making up history Christine.”
I was starting to think maybe Christine never did take any history.