memento
between fable II & III
Sparrow, Reaver


It was staring at him with those creepy, vacant eye sockets. He didn't like it.

"Reaver remember when we had that discussion about disturbing the dead and the balance of the universe and how we both know monsters do actually live under your bed?"

The pirate glanced over his shoulder at Sparrow, whom was standing on the other side of the den. "I believe so, yes. Both of them, in fact. Why do you ask?"

The gypsy tapped the metal thing in front of him, the ting rather odd in pitch and timbre. "Cause this right here says you're a liar who doesn't listen to a word I say ever."

Reaver moved from the bar to stand next to Sparrow. "Ah yes, this thing. I admit, it may have been a bit crass of me to remove it, but I just couldn't resist. Something about it.."

"It's eerie, and it probably watches you while you sleep."

"Is that an attempt to scare me into returning it? Because if so, I fear you need to stop practicing for it before-hand on children-"

"It could be legit, y'know. I mean, that thing could have somehow persuaded you to take it so he can keep an eye on you, and thus everyone else in the kingdom."

Reaver stared at Sparrow for a moment, before giving his full attention to the newest piece of art adorning his Millifields Manson. "You make a very good point. However, unless you want to take the thing all the way back to that Avo-forsaken desert-"

"I'm good."

"Well then, it's settled! The statue stays, and neither of us has to go back to that decrepit hovel. Drink?" He offered one of the glasses of brandy he was holding to the hero.

Sparrow took it and downed it.

"My my, in a rush to get good and plastered are we?"

"It creeps me out."

"It's a statue. It cannot actually hurt you-"

"That has yet to be proven. Besides, I don't think any amount of liquor is going to make the creepiness that this thing practically oozes be lost on me. They weirded me the bloody hell out in Aurora, they weird me the bloody hell out here too."

"Come now Sparrow, I'm sure the strange, backwards people who once upon a time worshiped these bird…things could say the same about the marvelous statues idiots grovel over here in our resplendent Albion!"

Sparrow poked Reaver lightly in the chest. "You sir, are gonna make it ma-ad!"

Reaver quirked a brow, then glanced down at his own drink, which had magically disappeared. Apparently Sparrow had become quite the alcohol ninja. "Am I now?"

The hero nodded, then floated off toward the liquor cabinet. "Yep. You're gonna wake up to it standing over you, staring at you with those hollow eyes, and then it's going to eat your kidneys straight out of your gut with its beak." Here he mimed having a beak with his hands.

Chuckling, Reaver walked leisurely to the armchairs he'd situated next to the fireplace. He was far from concerned about a pilfered statue coming to life and eating his kidneys whilst he slept. It was nothing more than a piece of art created by a foreign people ages ago.

Reaver sat, half curled in his chair and listening to Sparrow go on about some guy who murdered people and used their remains to paint pictures. The fire flickered as if hit by a breeze, and the pirate shivered, eyes superstitiously swiveling to the statue. It was odd, the thing, he was well aware. And although he didn't believe it would come alive and eat him, he couldn't deny that that side of the room was always colder, regardless of weather or the state of the fireplace.