I’ve been rereading Shirley Jackson’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle, one of my favorites. The rhythm of the first paragraph caught me, so I drew it.
(I wasn’t sure which Richard Plantagenet Merricat is referring to—there are a lot. Wikipedia somewhat arbitrarily says it’s Richard of Eastwell, who does seem he might be interesting to her, but Richard II might also appeal to her sense of drama. I chose Eastwell, though.)
I have a plan for where this story goes, trying to decide if I should actually bother drawing it all.
I had the idea of Fiddleford
encountering Stanley while his mind was still intact enough to figure
out who he was. (Stanford surely mentioned he had a twin, after all.)
Fiddleford wondered why Stanley was living under his brother’s name
and in the course of trying to suss each other out, each of them
learned the others’ story.
When Stanley realized that this guy
helped Stanford build the portal, he got very excited and tried to
mine him for information on how to operate it. …Information that
had probably already been memory-wiped away.
Not that it mattered, as Fiddleford had
no intention of helping someone reactivate that terrible machine.
…Quite the opposite, in fact.
Pro tip, Fidds. If you find yourself
walking slow circles around someone and saying things like “I’m
sorry it had to come to this” you might be on a bad path. You know
what another bad sign is? Matching robes and chanting. Just saying.