Flannel

The seed for this story can be found here. I hope you enjoy what I've done with it so far, and how I continue.

11/13/22 / Chapter 7 Addendum:

I realized today while editing my backlog that MIS:GO’s first arc reminds me of a rollercoaster. The prologue and Chapter 1 are like the pre-show in the line. Chapter 2 is the initial flat track experience, after the guests have been seated and locked in and the cars are rolling through the indoor set, where things go wrong and the narrative takes on a more menacing tone. Then Chapters 3 through most of 7 are the chain-rattling climb up the incline, until we crest the peak. . .

Goodbye Justin

If you’re reading this, I’M DEAD! Not just missing for a while and legally declared deceased; DEAD! Parrotsketch.exe DEAD!

And that means INHERITANCE TIME!

So! Guess who was always my favorite great-grand-nephew. . . .

Yep, your cousin Bryce, god rest his poor soul. Not you! Psh, you’re not even in the top ten. ‘Tool’ nothing; you’re an entire hardware megastore. You’re the Hartville Hardware of relatives! Remember when you broke my irreplaceable antique lithophane in the back stairway while throwing those pretend grenades made of off-brand plastic building blocks at Ellen? Because I certainly do, you destructive little hellion!

Yes, you were a child; yes, you sincerely apologized; yes, I forgave you; but I never forgot, either! So there! YOU NEVER PAID ME BACK EITHER! YOU STILL OWE ME!

Which means that instead of a simpler bequest, you get a responsibility.

Well, that, and also - though I dislike admitting it - because you’re the one I best trust to either carry it forward, or manage it. We both know why; enough said.

I’ve carted this around since my grandfather Ellis passed it down to me. I was so crazy in love with your great-grand-uncle at the time that I immediately put it aside, and after he passed there were so many of you stinky brats to still watch over that I never even considered signing it. Perhaps you’ll make the other choice. Perhaps you’ll set it aside too. Speaking of which, I like that Chloe you brought to Thanksgiving this year. Did you know she punched Malcolm in the nose when he made a pass at her while you were out playing touchball in the riverside field? Bam! Right in the cheese! Knocked him into the kitchen table!

But enough about that. Be assured, this is real; perhaps not true, but absolutely real. I know this because not only could Taid Elisud do magic - real magic, supernatural, not prestidigitation or stage illusions - but he taught me a little too. Small tricks; homely ones, but useful, and one of the most so has been the Sight, the ability to sense magic itself.

The enclosed contract burns with it. It’s the most powerful artifact I’ve ever encountered, and I therefore believe it is what it purports to be, just as Taid Eli did. So sign it or don’t, it’s up to you. You don’t even have to keep it in the family; if you find someone better suited, go ahead and give it to them.

Because while you’re a stiff-necked, mule-headed, self-righteous, arrogant little goblin of a malapert. . .out of everyone I know in this world, I nevertheless trust you most to do the right thing.

God help me, but I truly do.

Meridith Carse

with love

if I have to

I guess

Flannel

Hartville Hardware is a real place.

My favorite line in this chapter -

Spoiler

with love

if I have to

I guess

[collapse]

[Hmm. Should I do a side story where Gigi Merry reincarnates as the Queen of the Trolls?]