Year One, Spring

Day 7:

I wrote yesterday that I'd write about the thief today, didn't I?

…Just read over what I just wrote, and considered giving up the journal. Decided not to, because Dr. Rob tends to call me up. I haven't tried assault recently, but apparently I'm 'high risk' so I get check ups. Fun times! Anyways, the thief.

So, last night with my insomnia, I was writing away- when someone decided to trip over my foot.

Now, I didn't take that kindly (I take very little kindly, actually) and kicked out at the offending person. I got him in the hip. Go me.

"Hey!" he yelled, and I managed to get a good (full moon, clear sky, no light pollution either) look at the guy.

Shorter then me, shoulder length hair that looked silver, pale eyes, dark clothes.

"Hey yourself!" I snapped. "What do you think you're doing?"

He looked over his shoulder, and scowled. "Hiding. Move so I can get inside."

I think I said something like "what" but it might've been 'huh?' In short order, I ended up with a visitor. A visitor that sucks at fighting, so I managed to win THAT little wrestling match.

I pinned him down by sitting on his stomach and grabbing his wrists. I couldn't see much, considering the decided lack of windows, but the door was open. I could see that he looked- scared, I guess. Or maybe like he was going to throw up. Kind of hard to tell, considering I could only see a fraction of his face. And that fraction included his ear.

"Who the fuck are you?" I asked, glowering down at him. At least I thought I was glowering. Might've just looked royally confused. Or homicidal. Not entirely sure… Didn't have a mirror.

Anyways. The crazy random guy tried to pull his wrists free, but couldn't. I had leverage and strength! Cayor for the win!

"I," he said, glaring up at me. "Am Phantom Skye. I can't breathe. Get off me."

I didn't move. "Phantom Skye?" I asked. "What kind of stupid name is that?"

To make the long argument really short, it's his name. It's not stupid, and neither is he. And I won the second wrestling match, managed to kick him in the stomach (an accident, really) and tossed him out of the house. Shack. Whatever.

Then I stumbled into bed and managed to fall asleep with a minimum of growling. When I woke up, he was gone. Maybe the demon cat had got him. Hey, a guy can dream.

The rest of today was kind of a repeat of… the whole of last week. Pull weeds in the morning, eat lunch, forage. Well, forage slash explore. Today I not only went across the pitiful river, but nearly ran over two old folks while doing it!

I apologized. I have anger issues, not manner issues. When you nearly knock someone in a river, you do your damned best to display how sorry you are.

Looking back, bowing at the man's feet and begging forgiveness was probably really stupid. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Long story short, I got invited back to their place for food. I told them (a heavily edited version) the whole story, with Grandpa Howard leaving me the farm and me trying to clean it up.

I'm still not sure how it happened, but I left that encounter with two hard boiled eggs and a fishing pole that was past its last legs and was begging to be put down. And permission to forage in the field around the old folks and their home. Well, so long as I wasn't stealing anything from them…

So yeah. That was about it. I'm going to sleep now. And if any fucking idiotic thieves disturb my rest tonight… There's a sickle beside my bed.

I may write this from jail tomorrow. (Do they have a jail here? Something to look into.)

Day 8:

No random thieves in the night, thankfully. Thinking about it, murder is never the answer. How can they know they lost if they're dead? And how can you mock them?

So yeah. Nothing special to report. No random attacks by amorous drunk blondes. Nami did threaten to rearrange my face, but I'm pretty sure that's normal for her.

Oh. There are girls that visit from a nearby town. (And they have boyfriends too. Not as scary, but still.) They came over in a pack today. Ann, Elli, Karen, Mary, and Popuri. (Who names their kid Popuri? And what kind of word is it, anyways? Unless she's another scrabble-named sucker?)

Yeah… Bed.

Day 9:

Farming is boring.

Day 10:

Did I say farming is boring? Because it's true. Farming IS boring. But, and here's the important part- the people that invade your life and won't go away are all fucking psychos!

I don't think I'm the only one who thinks privacy is a good thing. Surely there are other people in the village who don't react with joy and delight when someone asks them about their bathing habits. Seriously! Romana- crazy old rich woman living up in the manor- cornered me in the inn today. And Nami joined her. And they were asking me things- like how I took a bath and where and how often and- and it wouldn't stop!

I managed to escape. Nearly faked my own death. And that's when Muffy showed up!

I pretended to pass out. Not my most inventive of escapes, but it got me away from her. Thankfully, she was too drunk to think of CPR.

Dr. Hardy was very understanding when I explained I didn't want my soul sucked out by a blonde vampire. He only checked me for fever and dementia five dozen times. (Okay, two, but it felt like a lot more.)

I ended up hiding away on the farm after that. Found a fruit tree. No idea what'll grow. Just have to wait and see, I guess…

Day 14:

Don't care if I skipped days, nothing really noteworthy anyways. Weeding, chucking rocks, foraging. I am now incapable of getting lost in the village. And bamboo is edible, and even tasty, when you cook it right.

Using left over cheese from Mac 'n' cheese packets is NOT a good flavoring for bamboo. And eating it raw is not technically cooking, but it doesn't taste half bad like that.

So yeah, today wasn't really exceptional, except Muffy showed up at my farm. (Cue my running and hiding in the barn… Or my attempt, anyway, since I was kind of too far away and she wasn't drunk.) She cornered me between the chicken coop and the fence, and started asking where her cookies were.

I really didn't want to answer. Especially when she asked if I'd eaten her cookies. See, the problem THERE is that I grew up with a really perverted friend, and… I'd rather not think about it, because it scares me.

And I don't scare easily.

Griffin showed up to drag her away, and ended up explaining the cookie thing. Today is- was- the Spring thanksgiving festival. If you like a girl, you make her cookies. My not having a kitchen didn't occur to Muffy- or the fact that I hate her guts- or the fact that I'm a poisonous cook who can barely be trusted to boil water.

I set fire to a salad once. I still have no idea how I did it…

Anyways. So, Muffy got dragged away. Yay Griffin. Why can't he get her a leash or something?

I'm going to go to bed now.

JUST got back from trying to kill that damn thief again. Write more in the morning.

Day 15:

Rubbing sleep out of my eyes as I write this.

Phantom Skye showed up again yesterday. As far as I can figure, he's used to using my farm (Grandpa Howard's farm, but it's mine now, and- I shouldn't write when half asleep, should I?) as a hide out, so as NOT to get scalped by angry boyfriends or, y'know, killed by the people he's stolen from.

There's no police force here. Justice is dependant on who's got the bigger stick.

Last night, I had the bigger stick! Okay, it was a sickle, but I think I made that thief wet his pants. MAN can he run fast!

So yeah. That's what happened last night. I doubt he'll show up again, and if he does… I'll have to hide a body. There's a forest just at the far edge of my farm.

No jury would convict me anyways.

Today was boring. Last night wasn't. Goodnight.

Day 17:

What the Hell is a duck festival and why would I want to go? I mean, I will go, if only for the curiosity thing, but what is it?

Day 18:

… Ducks are weird. These people are weird. This town is weird.

…And I think someone followed me home. Am I paranoid? Maybe, but MUFFY WAS THERE AND SHE WAS WATCHING ME!

I wish I could lock the damn door.

Day 19:

So, yesterday I wrote that I feared I had a stalker. I do and I don't. What I have, is a dog.

It's a scrawny, half-grown mutt with, uh, fur. Kinda hard to see what color it is under all the dirt. Friendly, though. Knocked me over and washed my face this morning. I thought it was Muffy at first, but she doesn't have claws.

Seriously, Griffin, keep control over your girlfriend.

Anyways. The dog. I shoved it off, and it immediately started cowering. I go in, get some bread, and feed it, and it tries to wash my face again. This thing knows no middle ground. Raise your hand, it looks like you're going to beat it. Make kissing sounds, it RUNS AWAY! (Hah! In your FACE, Lumina!) Ignore it for most of the day like I did, it… glues itself to your leg and WON'T GO AWAY.

Not that I mind. I like dogs. This dog is certainly better then the demon cat, which I saw skulking around outside the barn. The demon cat made EYES at my dog, the kind of eyes that say 'drop dead and decay'. No cat's going to harm MY dog…

All I have to do is buy food for the dog. I figure he'll eat just about anything, but it's probably best if I don't try to feed him weeds. Though he did try to eat them when I was weeding earlier this morning.

Poor pup. Someone's got to take care of him, and that someone apparently is me. He's sleeping at the foot of the bed and everything.

Well, good night.

Day 20:

Bought beef jerky at the inn, and some more bread. Tried to give the dog a bath. It didn't go well.

Had trouble finding bamboo in the fields, so I ended up making some Mac 'n cheese. Shared with the mutt. Need to come up with a name.

Am very tired. Sleep. Bleh.

Day 22:

There was a cooking festival today. I probably should've locked the mutt up in the hut, but he screamed like I was killing him when I shut the door. So yeah, half starved animal in a crowd surrounded by food scents and people trying to touch him. THAT was interesting!

So, we show up. Nothing much happening, I didn't bring any cooked food and Mayor Thomas said he was disappointed in me.

I said, "You'd be thankful if you knew what my cooking was like," meaning Death by Cayor's Cooking. I don't think Mayor tomato-face thought that, though, since he scowled and huffed and stomped off. He never even noticed the mutt.

The mutt noticed the mayor, though. Oh did he notice the mayor!

Though, in my defense, Mayor Tomatoes-for-brains shouldn't have kept a ham sandwich in his pocket. Sure, it was wrapped in wax paper, but the mutt could smell it. And he was hungry.

So… Yeah. The mutt went running and bit the mayor right on the pocket. Back pocket of his pants.

The screaming got a lot of attention, the mutt ended up getting a sandwich out of the deal, and all the girls in town tried to coo. (Mayor went away to sulk. You'd think it'd be about the ruined pants, but no… The mutt ended up eating his entry. Go figure.) The mutt wasn't in for cooing, but I managed to calm him down. A bit.

Okay, we ended up standing practically in the surf, but whatever. I managed to keep the mutt from replacing the food taster (looked like a pig dressed up in a purple suit and hat, but that's just me), but after the awards were handed out…

Okay. I'm mean. I'll admit it right now.

I let the dog loose.

Then I turned my back on the sudden chaos and pretended to have gone deaf. But it was fun listening to the yelling.

The dog was banned from any and all cooking contests from now on. For that matter, so was I.

Mission accomplished.

Huzzah for bordom, right? I might be playing around with the game's plotline a bit. If only to make the mines a bit more realistic, among other things. But I will try to stay loyal to the randomness that is Cayor's life.