Quick note: I noticed some similarities between this and another fic, which I hadn't started reading until I was done writing this. No similarities were intentional, and I think it's because we both followed the game more or less :P
"Hello, who's this? Are you perhaps a tourist?"
The man was short, stout, and had a red suit complete with a matching top hat. His hair was slicked back but curled at the bottom, and he had a lumpy brown moustache. The look was completed with a tiny pair of glasses perched precariously on top of the hugest nose Claire had ever seen. "I'm Thomas, mayor of Mineral Town," the man said, and shook her hand. Claire gave him her name in response.
"Er, no, actually I'm here about the farm. I'm the one who just bought it, in fact." Her smile was broad and self-satisfied.
"Ah! Bluebell Ranch! I suppose MT Realtor told you you could live a peaceful, refreshing life on the farm?"
Claire blinked, surprised. "Actually, yeah, that's exactly what they told me." The two of them were paused on the yellowed, worn path just north of the farm. Claire had had a brief look around town already, on the way there, but she was too excited to really take it in.
The man laughed weakly. "Well, yes, that's what they told the last... ten or eleven prospective buyers. I'm surprised you actually bought it, given the state it's in. I'm afraid it just hasn't been the same ever since the old owner passed on." Claire's heart lurched in quite a nasty way.
"The state it's in? What sort of state?" she asked, unsure she wanted to know the answer. She realized she HAD made the decision rather rashly.
"What, you mean you didn't even have a look at the place before buying it?" His potato-round face had an incredulous look upon it. "Well, it's better for you to see for yourself. I must be off now. Good luck with the, ah... with the farm." He tipped his hat hurriedly and ran off, coattails flapping in the breeze. For a moment, Claire just stood there looking after him, shoulders slumped a bit. Then she lifted herself and furrowed her eyebrows in what she hoped was a determined expression. "Hah! It can't be that bad. I mean, it's not like I wasn't expecting a few weeds. Slugs in the backyard, that sort of thing. I can handle it." And with that, she turned and ran down the path, to a farm that was hidden from view by tall grasses and cattails. Brushing by the last bit of foliage, where the grasses on either side converged at face level, she raised a hand to shield her eyes and got a good look at her new property.
"THAT's Bluebell Ranch?" Claire gasped. Weeds were strewn haphazardly around the large soil plot, along with some massive boulders and stumps that were almost half her height in width. There was a doghouse to her left that looked as if it had seen better days--the wood was rotting and the roof was caving in. The barns looked sturdy enough, at least, but they were in dire need of a paint job, and there were visible spider webs even from where she stood. Her gaze moved over to a single, gnarly tree several dozen feet away, where a large, fat bee's nest was situated, buzzing with angry life. Claire looked to the right, dismay written all over her face, and it didn't exactly brighten her mood when she saw the rather tiny house. She picked her way around some branches and stones, tugged the door open (it was creakier than her old door had been, she noted) and looked inside. There wasn't even a kitchen! Even her apartment had had a kitchen. There was a cot in the corner, a half-empty bookshelf, and an old TV with a small table beside it. Another corner held a writing desk with three legs, and there was an alarmingly dusty chest in a third corner. A table was in the center in the room--with cushions instead of chairs. It would have been kind of cute, in a rustic sort of way, if she weren't actually going to live there.
"Well, there goes 'peaceful and refreshing'," muttered Claire. "At least I can finally put those overalls Mom gave me to use."
A/N:
There's no 'official' name for the ranch, unlike the player characters' names, so I went with the name of my own ranch. I think it sounds nice. Nice name for a not-so-nice place :) poor Claire! MT Realtor's advertisement crew are real bastards.
How will our heroine ever survive in such a barren and desolate land? Will she be able to restore the farm to its former glory, like Hercules cleaned the Aegean stables? Find out in future installments of It's a Farmer's Life!