"Let the days come as they please," he said, rolling across the cushions...

[Gum do Mugu]

This is an anthology of unrelated posts. Just shit I type out for my own entertainment. Some of it definitely is RP. Some of it just goofin. it is what it is.

"Let the days come as they please," he said, rolling across the cushions like a pot-bellied puppy.

Meanwhile, outside, it was the Realm of Eternal Rain. Gum do Mugu sat, cross-legged, under the boughs and branches of a sodden apple tree. The droplets merged together and trickled down the creases in his leathery cheeks like tears. He drank from a flask of tonic and rummaged through weathered shoe boxes. Behind him, the trunk of the tree had a silver plaque nailed to it. And behind that, a scene of slate and wind washed over the hilly horizon.

For each shoe box, he thumbed around in the clay mud and scribed a forgotten glyph on the lid. For each glyph scribed, he sipped the tonic somberly. The shoe boxes found their place, slotted inside a larger crate. The crate was just warped planks banged together with rusty nails.

Those cracked old knee joints creaked, the old man was on his way up to the Big House. Splinters sank into the rough skin of his fingers, and the weight of the full crate tightened the ache at the base of his back. Barefooted, he could feel the crunch of the pebbled pathway that took him from the plaqued tree to the looming home of the rotten boy with the big belly.

^tap..._tap...^tap...

"You answer it," said the fat boy.

She smoothed her hand across the sheets. "No." She swirled from the boy and disappeared into the ornate carvings of a decadent hallway.

The front door of the Big House opened nervously.

"Here," said Gum, dropping the crate at the feet of the sweating boy.

As he walked away from the Big House, Gum glanced back at the tree under which he'd sat for so long. Before leaving down the long and winding road back to the public thoroughfare, he read the plaque aloud.

Let the days come as they please. We are here, in the Realm of Eternal Rain.

The		boy	shifted		the
lids	from		the		shoe
		boxes,	one	at	a		time.

		EACH	shoe		box	contained
the		shrunken			head
of	an						enemy.

They're all the rich man's war.