Eerie, Indiana fanfiction: Hereditary

[froodle]

The carven man had a long beard that stretched past his belt, coming to a neat point just above his knees. His hat was tall and pointy and bent a little at the very top, and the broad floppy brim shaded eyes deep-set beneath bushy eyebrows. His wooden flesh was the rich sweet colours of a ripe peach - pinks and golds brightening to crimson or fading to burnt umber, and he carried a head-height staff with a crook at the end in one gnarled hand.

"Are you absolutely sure you're not a wizard?" asked Moe Bob, for at least the fourth time.

The carven man sighed, wind whistling through extremely exasperated branches.

"Yes," he said. "I'm very sure."

"You know," Lou Bob cut in, "You really, really look like a wizard."

"And yet," said the carven man. "Still I remain obstinately a living statue, who is not a wizard."

"So you can't do any magic at all?" Bob Bob asked.

"Well," said the carven man. "I am a simple wooden sculpture brought to life. Some people might think that was pretty magic."

"But can you do spells and stuff?" Moe Bob pressed. "Like, if I had wishes, could you grant wishes?"

"No," said the carven man. "Unless your wish was to have a statue achieve the miracle of life and sentience, in which case, yes."

"I wanted to be a famous wrestler," said Lou Bob. "That was my wish."

"Can't help you," said the carven man. "Maybe consider joining some kind of athletics club, as opposed to talking to random statues you find in deserted corners of Deadwood Park."

"I was going to wish for candy," said Bob Bob.

"There's some dried-up gum stuck to the hem of my robe," said the carven man. "That's the best I can do."

"I want a motorcycle," said Moe Bob. "My sister can do motorcycles, and she's a girl, not a magic man made of wood."

"Sorry," said the statue. "Why not just ask your sister?"

The Bob brothers exchanged a series of unhappy looks, rich in the shared knowledge that there would be no wrestling career, no motorbikes, and very likely no candy.

"So you're really no use to us at all," said Bob Bob.

"Doesn't look like it," said the carven man.

"Okay," said Bob Bob, producing a can of lighter fluid from the back pocket of his jeans. "I guess we're done here."

As the carven man burned, screaming and begging even as the flames licked up his deceptively wizard-like beard and seared his wooden mouth from his wooden face, Bob Bob returned to an over-stuffed backpack nestled in the roots of an old tree and retrieved an enchanted penknife, the rusty blade carved with arcane glyphs.

He gave it a disgusted look, then tossed it in the rough direction of the conflagration.

"My turn," said Lou Bob, shouldering his younger brother aside. "Where's the spray paint?"





The Children

Eventide by froodle, in which the sun goes down, and Eerie's lost children gather

Milk by froodle, in which Marshall develops a completely cromulent fear of milk trucks

Whistle by froodle, in which Steve Konkalewski is unhappy about the way things turned out...

Three by froodle, in which Marshall and Devon discuss video games in a cemetary

Marys by froodle, in which Mary C. Carter takes on her new role

A Story About Devon Wilde by froodle. Devon Wilde walked through the Eerie Cemetery, and his feet made no sound on the gravel pathways.

Disguises by froodle, in which Marshall goes to visit Devon Wilde

Lillian by froodle, in which Marilyn's mother has concerns




Pay Attention and Side Stories

Preparations by froodle. Winston Chisel, the morning he became Mayor.

Blue by froodle: Sara Sue and Marilyn Teller in the laundry room.

Reflection by froodle: Sara Sue in Paris.

The Storm by froodle, in which Mayor Chisel has a very specific job for Eerie's resident weatherman

Pay Attention Part 1 by froodle

Pay Attention Part 2 by froodle

Pay Attention Part 3 by froodle

Pay Attention Part 4 by froodle

Echoes by froodle: the worlds where Simon and Marshall stayed are very different

Pay Attention Part 5 by froodle

Pay Attention Part 6 by froodle

Pay Attention Part 7 by froodle

Sculpture by froodle, in which Sara Sue must face off against the forces of municipal artwork

Pay Attention Part 8 by froodle

Pay Attention Part 9 by froodle

Pay Attention Part 10 by froodle

Civil Disobedience by froodle, in which Sara Sue objects most strenuously to the Mayor's behaviour

Christmas Morning by froodle; takes place in the Pay Attention-verse, after the main story

Pay Attention: Coda by froodle

Comments

[evilinsanemonkey]

oh the Bobs...

[froodle]

They should never ever learn to harvest their sister's gifts. Luckily they're their own worst enemies in that regard

[deifire]

I love the Bobs in all their twisted glory here!

[froodle]

They're going to catch hell when their nanny finds out what they've been doing

[evilinsanemonkey]

Terrifying children...