[--the mysteries in question being a certain Phantom Tortoise that appears at midnight at the crossing next to the town pub, a particularly fancy coat that is rumored to kill anyone who owns it for long enough, and an abandoned mansion on the road out into the pastures.
it is not a very interesting town, you see. it's small and a bit out of the way. most towns make up for this by having a rich history, fascinating culture, hell, a big building. none of that here. you have your store, you have your pub, you have your quaint little cottages lined up all down the street, you have your doctor making his rounds once a month, and that is what you get. There is a brothel, not officially inside the town, but if you walk a few minutes up the northern path you'll get there. the older residents hate it because it attracts all kinds of bad sorts, the younger people like it because it attracts all kinds of bad sorts, and that is about the extent of the conflict here.
this boy's name is ashley. he thinks it is a very unfortunate name.
ashley was born in the brothel up the northern path. he was raised there until he was too old to stay, and got booted out when he was thirteen. he sees his mother once in a while, but oh well, things are hard all over. he thinks that, possibly, he might have been allowed to stay if he did not have an overbite and an inordinately large chin, but that was his lot in life. he is not sure whether or not to be grateful for this.
despite all this, ashley tries to keep his chin up(he struggles a bit with this, naturally) and keep the bitterness he is wholeheartedly entitled to far, far away. over the last few months, he has taken much interest in the Phantom Tortoise, claiming that he himself has seen it multiple times. it is a grey-ish thing, he says, leaving a trail of slime wherever it moves. its eyes burn like coals in the darkness of the night.
his friends think this is the stupidest fucking thing they have ever heard.]
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it is not a very interesting town, you see. it's small and a bit out of the way. most towns make up for this by having a rich history, fascinating culture, hell, a big building. none of that here. you have your store, you have your pub, you have your quaint little cottages lined up all down the street, you have your doctor making his rounds once a month, and that is what you get. There is a brothel, not officially inside the town, but if you walk a few minutes up the northern path you'll get there. the older residents hate it because it attracts all kinds of bad sorts, the younger people like it because it attracts all kinds of bad sorts, and that is about the extent of the conflict here.
this boy's name is ashley. he thinks it is a very unfortunate name.
ashley was born in the brothel up the northern path. he was raised there until he was too old to stay, and got booted out when he was thirteen. he sees his mother once in a while, but oh well, things are hard all over. he thinks that, possibly, he might have been allowed to stay if he did not have an overbite and an inordinately large chin, but that was his lot in life. he is not sure whether or not to be grateful for this.
despite all this, ashley tries to keep his chin up(he struggles a bit with this, naturally) and keep the bitterness he is wholeheartedly entitled to far, far away. over the last few months, he has taken much interest in the Phantom Tortoise, claiming that he himself has seen it multiple times. it is a grey-ish thing, he says, leaving a trail of slime wherever it moves. its eyes burn like coals in the darkness of the night.
his friends think this is the stupidest fucking thing they have ever heard.]