Eah, I'm not so sure about this chapter. The MC's voice is rather strange- much stronger and more straight-to-the-point than anything I've done before. Anyways, let me know what you think =D
Chapter one
Galdre Cove
They called me Pippa back then. Pip. They’d always called me that, though I don’t know why: my name wasn’t anything like that. My father named me when I was born, he wanted his two daughters to have the most beautiful names in the world. When he chose Belinda Eleanor, he went a little too far. From then on my mother called me Phillipa.
I wasn’t a naughty child, disobedient, at least not at first. I’ve been told in the years since that a villain cannot be made, he has to be born. I think when I was born, they broke the mold. I knew I was special, I knew that I should be one to fight over, but I wasn’t like them. My sister, Felicia, was the picture of perfect: her golden hair as bright as anything, and her crystal eyes were always happy. My parents were disappointed in me, I think, for who wants a bride with coarse dark hair and beady eyes? Nobody does, or they didn’t back then. I’ve changed though, oh yes- I’ve changed a lot. Last time they saw me, they didn’t even know who I was. I soon correct that.
My story begins long ago, but I shall focus on a point in time that happened only a few years back. Seven years, exactly. It was a dark night, much like any other, I suppose. The sky held only a smattering of crystaline stars across it’s velvet blanket and the wind was warm as it came from the sea. I was sat inside my favourite haunt: Galdre Cove, a small pub off the back alleyway in Runa. You could see the castle from the window, it’s turrets and towers reaching high up to pierce the inky blackness. There were lights in even window, and in my state of total boredum I sat and counted them. Every single one.
I could have been in there. I could have been one of them: but in the end, my parents didn’t want me after all. Belinda Eleanor was scratched off every signpost and doorknob. They wiped me clean.
The pub was dark, like outside, only the flickering candle lit lanterns brightened the dingy interior. All seven walls had faded from blue to a greyish brown in the time I had been visiting, and the floor no longer looked like floor. I shan’t say what it was covered in, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. The tables, which had once been made of fine oak wood, had long since been shattered and thrown at various villains in the heights of a nasty argument; and sadly they’d either not been replaced, or if they had it was with wood that was cheaper than matchsticks- after all, they only ever got broken again anyway.
On that dark night in the middle of summer, I was sat in Galdre Cove with a mug of ale in my hand and listening to all the conversation that was floating around me. It was a quiet night, and by that I mean nobody had been beaten to a bloody pulp quite yet, and Hilda was playing the piano. Poor Hilda. Tall, dark, manly: and yet her step sister was the most beautiful princess in Galere. Hilda and Cassandra: ugly, foul and so damned loud they’d been thrown out along with their mother when the princess married her Prince Charming. That’s what were all reduced to in here, one thing we all had in common. Nobody wanted us, nobody liked us. We were on our own.
She tapped out some forlorn melody on the battered yellow keys, Cassandra singing along loudly. It didn’t matter how racous they were in here; their music was appreciated, because it was all we had. I watched as Helga served at the bar, sliding pint glasses down the counter into the open hands of many sad-faced men. I got up from my seat by the window and took my almost empty pint glass over to where she stood.
“Evening Hel’.” I nodded my head and pushed the hood back from my face. It paid to be secretive in a place like Galdre Cove: I’d learnt from experience, and to this day that hood is still my best friend. Plopping down on one of the remaining bar stool I sloshed ale across the counter.
“How’s it going?” Her voice was deep, hoarse. It matched her face. I’d always said she looked more like a man that my father- I don’t think anybody ever really did ask her if she was a man. On that night, I made a mental note, as usual, to ask her sometime.
“Same as usual.” I replied. “Can I get another one?”
“You need to watch it darlin’. You’re driving.”
“Hardly.” Ronda, the witch from East Peleanore, had given me a broomstick for my seventeeth birthday. It was hardly what you’d call ‘classic transport’ but it was efficient, and cheap.
“Last one, then.” Helga stamped another pint glass down in front of me and I grinned, tossing over another few silver coins.
“Stolen?”
“You never ask a lady where she gets her wares-” I began. Of course they were stolen, how else would I get money?
“I wouldn’t call you a lady.” She replied smartly, and then wandered off to serve another poor sod who was stuck in this dreadful place. Cassandra has taken over on the paino now, and it was Hilda’s turn to sing.
“Come on Andy!” I called to Cassandra, waving my glass. “Give us something evil!”
“Sure thing Pip!” She called back and began banging out some rowdy dance tune on the beaten old keys. I tapped my foot along, and sung with Hilda, the words were familiar in here. We liked songs with a story.
“
So I sneaked back and caught her with my man,
Laughing and kissing till they saw the gun in my hand
The next thing I knew they were dead on the floor,
Dark Lady would never turn a card up anymore...” The song was a personal favourite, and I knew that’s why Andy had chosen to play it. It amused me to think of how I’d gotten here. Hadn’t I once been royalty? Once. Now there was only one code I adhered too:
Honour among thieves. It was the only way of getting by together we had in this place.
The song went on for a few more minutes, but by that point I’d grown bored and turned back to the bar to drink my ale and just generally feel sorry for myself. The evenings always moved slow in Runa. It was as though, in this place, everything had it’s own speed. We all gathered in the pub night after night, swapped stories and sometimes even spit teeth in each other’s faces. It became a routine, a habit, and soon we’d been sucked up into the world of villainness. Even those of us who’d never done a bad deed in our lives: we were the most vunerable to its charm.
I listened behind me as a conversation grew louder.
“-It’s not fair Gaston-”
“I told you, don’t call me that any more.”
“Fine.
Leeroy. What’s the difference?”
“Why do you care?”
“Look, all I’m saying is that I’m
tired. I want out of this. I want my place in the sun with all of them others. Why should they get to prance around in fancy clothes and wear expenisive jewellery-”
“And eat off silver and gold platters-”
“And that. Why should they get to do all of those things, when it’s
we who have earned them?”
“Because that’s how it goes. It’s how it’s always been. Villains
always lose.”
“We shouldn’t have to.”
“Yeah, well we do. Like it or not.”
The two men were two I knew well. Gaston Leeroy had once been the most handsome man in his village: he ruled strong, worked hard, and the ladies loved him. He fell in love, like most of us, but she wouldn’t have him. She ran off with a beast of a man named Derek, who consequently banished Leeroy from his own village. The other man was a short, stout little man who went by the name Darcy. He’d lost some battle out in the desert a number of years before, and now he only had one arm and one eye. Sadly, their conversation was nothing we hadn’t heard before.
The villain world was resigned, quiet, sad. We’d all lost our lives, we- none of us- had the will to fight them any more. The heroes, that is. What was the point? We plotted, planned and put our lives on the line every single time just to get that taste of power. What happened? We always lost. Always, with no exceptions. And Darcy was right; it wasn’t fair. But what could we do about it?
Four years before had been the last straw for us before we’d given up. There was a surge of crime all over the world. Lootings, murders, theft, it had been fantastic. Every villain in the world had taken his place out there, standing tall, and proud to be who they were. I suppose we couldn’t have expected anything else, really, but when the heroes fought back it was still a shock to all of us. They banished many of us to obscure regions around the world, dooming us to spend every evening in places like Galdre Cove. The leading city, Runa, set down laws and that was it. We were done for. It was the first time they had been so brutal.
Now they held a public hanging every two weeks. They just picked a random man or woman out of the crowd, checked to see if they had the villain brand, and if they did? No trial, no hearing, that was it. Hanged.Who did we blame? Well, the king of course. King Robert Hood and his band of merry men. He had done this to us.
“Pippa!” I was drawn from my bitter reminiscence by a shout that rocketed even through the racketthat cushioned me at the bar. I spun on my seat, annoyed at first that somebody some disturb my “me-time”, and I had to bite back a snarl as I saw who it was.
“Galinda.” I greeted her politely enough; I’m not
that kind of villain.
“How have you been!” A short blonde woman with a mass of curls on her head and dark eyes hurried over to me, pushed back her hood from her forehead and hugging me. I could never understand why she was so hyper.
“Usual.”
“Me too.” Her initial burst of energy over, she slumped down on a stool and folded her arms on top of the counter. I noticed that she was looking older than last time, lines creasing the skin around her eyes and mouth. She was only a year older than me, twenty-six or so, but she looked much older.
“You don’t look so good.” Another one of my quirks: I’ve been told many times before that I’m not just honest: I’m brutally honest. People don’t like it.
“Thanks.”
“No, I meant-” I sighed.
That most definitely wasn’t a compliment. “Never mind.”
There was a silence between us as I finished my ale and called for another one. Despite her earlier warnings, Helga slid another one down in my direction and took the coins gratefully. Hilda and Andy started up another tune, sad and mellow, and I sighed. I remember the conversation next, clearly, for it was one which sparked the revoultion. It changed our lives, forever.
“I’ve had enough, Pip.” Galinda sat up, her voice shrill- more so than usual. “I don’t think I can take it any more.” The words left her throat, almost as a growl. “It’s time we fought back-”
“Don’t be stupid.” I cautioned. “Look where that got us last time.”
“Pippa we’re villains! We’re meant to be
evil. It’s what we live for! How can you just sit here and tell me not to be stupid? How can you take it? You- You could be
royalty!”
“Stop it, Linda.”
“I meant it, Pip. I really do mean it this time. There are enough of us, aren’t there?” She waved her arm about the room, and surely enough: there were about one hundred people crammed into this little pub. And we were only the ones who came regularly. All we had to do was overthrow Runa, and the world would be ours. When it was put like that, it sounded so simple!
“Yes, but-”
“No ‘buts’. Come on, girl. You know you want to.” Enticingly Galinda pleaded with me using her eyes, fawning about on the stool. I almost broke into giggles.
“I bet you couldn’t get the support though.” I replied after taking a few deep breaths and mouthfull of ale. “They’d never want to-”
“Yes, they will. I have it all planned out. It’ll be perfect.”
“How do you know it will be perfect?”
“I just do.”
“Okay fine. You do what you wanna do, I’m going to sit back here and watch.” I think I said this rather snidely, but Galinda just ignored me and climbed to her feet. Grabbing the glass (that I had thankfully emptied rather quickly) she smashed it against the bar. I felt the shards fly in my direction, but this was nothing new, and I brushed them off impatiently wanting to know what she was going to do to make a fool of herself this time.
The room was plunged into silence, everybody looking around to see who had started the fight. Some of the younger villains, teenagers, were ready to cheer it on: at least until they realised nobody was going to get beaten up after all. Leeroy and Darcy stopped their bitter moaning and like everybody else focused their attention on the evil little blonde villain with the broken beer glass in her hand.
I’d never been one for public speaking, and so when Galinda spoke I knew she was nervous. Her voice, though strong, was not strong enough. Her eyes darted back and forth. The nervousness could have been purely from what she was about to suggest; it was risky to speak out so loud. A hideout it may have been, but the king wasn’t stupid.
“Oi! Listen!” She called. And then she waited until ever single last pair of eyes was on her.
“You’re not welcome here!” Shouted a voice from the back, one I had heard many times before. The woman was tall, thin and had a powerful look about her that made grown men shiver- if they’d never seen her before, that is. Breathtakingly beautiful, but coarse. Lucine Talland, formerly Queen Talland of Nunne. It wasn’t King Robert ho had ruined her life. It was Galinda.
“You, shut it. I’m speaking, and you’ll listen.” With a growl and a frown on across pretty feature, Galinda cleared her throat. “Look at what we’ve become!” She started her speech in a way that had most of the pubs drunken inhabitants rolling their eyes dramatically. “Don’t act like that, and don’t pretend you don’t care. I’m sick and tired of being pushed down. I’m tired of letting them do what
they want to do!”
“Yeah, we’ve heard it all before!”
Galinda hadn’t picked the best night to argue with Galdre’s Cove: just that morning we’ve had a tripple hanging. This time it was one of the regulars. I suppose that’s why she chose that particular night. She wasn’t just a villain, she was one of the few of them who thought everything over first. That night, not only would she get a fight if she didn’t work hard enough, but if she pulled it off? she could have all the support she wanted. We were ready for somebody like her to come and stir us up, off our feet.
“You may have heard it before-” She stated pointedly, “But it looks like I’m going to tell you again, but none of your are willing to get off your arse and do something about it! You’re
scared, you’re
frightened of a young boy called Robert Hood. He doesn’t belong on that throne. WE do. Aren’t you tired of being the bad guys, for all the wrong reasons? I know that I for one want to be my own kind of evil, not some crap that a boy king spouted about me!”
“Here here!” I couldn’t help myself. What the blonde girl was saying was true.
“I didn’t quit Fairy Godmother School for nothing; for this! I quit so I could be one of you! When I was small there was a man, a great man, who went by the name of Carter Royale. He was a truely evil man, and he made me proud to be a villain-”
“He’s gone, damn you. Why bring him up?”
“Because he wouldn’t want this, would he?” I knew from the looks on the people in this room; men and woman, old and young alike, that she had touched a raw spot. I could feel my own heart hammering with anticipation. Carter Royale had once been a close friend of mine, he was there for me when the times grew worse. He was strong, a leader, without him we had fallen. His name was on some days heaven, on other days it became a curse. One thing wa sure, nobody would ever forget him. And now Galinda was using that very name to band us together. If you’d have asked me only days before, I would have told you certainly that it wouldn’t work. I would have been wrong.
“What do you suggest then?” A small girl called from the back of the pub.
“We need to work together!” Galinda’s voice rose in confidence as her audience became more lenient. “Shouldn’t we have our own story for a change? Should we fight back for our rights?”
“What else?”
“And, what else-” Galinda turned to me. “What do you want more than anything in the world?”
“Revenge.” I answered without thinking.
“Money!” Shouted Darcy.
“Food-”
“Drink-”
“POWER!” Lucine raised her voice over all of the others, and soon the whole room errupted in shouts of agreement.
“HERE!”
“It’s what we want!” Galinda reined in by smashing another glass. “It’s what we want, and we’re damn well going to get it. But we have to
work together.” And then, she proceeded to tell us her plan.
That night, in the middle of summer, we’d given up hope. That night we were ready to curl up and die before fight for freedom. That night everything changed, and we were ready. Power would be ours, and this is my story.
