Tuesday's With Mr. Oldman by Hattable!

Hey Scribblets! Today is Tuesday which means we feature a work submitted by one of you ^_^ Awesome right? Well today we feature the YWSer, Hattable and his short story, Mr. Oldman! 


Mr. Oldman
by Hattable

 “Sir, might I ask what in heaven's name you're doing?” The shopkeeper stared, bewildered, at the unusual man who had just entered his little shop, climbed atop the first checkout lane's conveyor belt, and was currently strolling along it. 

“No.” the man replied through his large scruffy mustache, keeping stride and twitching his nose. His hands were gloved in leather, the left of which tightly clutched a gold-tipped walking stick. Around the man's torso was a sharp-looking tweed suit and brown trousers hugged his legs, ending with brown dress shoes at his feet. If one were to glance above his fuzzy silver eyebrows and up to his head, they'd find a neat brown fedora sitting in a mess of curly gray hair.

“Sir, I'm afraid you can't do that here,” the shopkeeper replied, bemused. The man froze, sticking his cane between the sensors at the end of the conveyor belt, causing its continuous rolling to come to a halt. 

“Oh?” he questioned, turning his owlish eyes upon the shopkeeper and blinking slowly from behind his big round spectacles. “Would the next lane be more appropriate, then?” he asked, pointing his cane at the lane to his left. The conveyor belt continued rolling and the man began his walking again.
“N-no, sir. No no no, you can't be walking on any of these conveyor belts.” the shopkeeper stated, fumbling with his own glasses as he readjusted them on his ears. His hands quickly wandered down to his shiny nameplate, which they also adjusted before returning to their limp state at the shopkeeper's sides. 

The man raised an eyebrow and stepped between the sensors, freezing the belt once again.
“And why not?” he asked.

“B-because, sir. It's against the rules,” the shopkeeper explained.
“What rules?”

“The shop rules, sir.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I'd quite like to see these rules for myself,” the man said. “Do they happen to lie within a book? Are they in your head?” He raised his cane and poked at the shopkeeper's mop of curly auburn hair. The shopkeeper stepped back in an attempt to avoid the stick, but found himself with it tangled in his hair. He sighed and set his hands to work on getting it out.

“Sir, that's quite enough,” he said. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

“What? How come?” the man asked, pulling his cane away harshly, ripping it from its hairy trap. The shopkeeper rubbed his head, giving the man and irritated glare.

“Because, sir, you're disregarding store rules. And if you touch me with your cane again I'll be forced to call the authorities.” Reaching up to grab hold of the man's arm, the shopkeeper attempted to lower him from the conveyor belt.

“Call the authorities?” the man exclaimed. “Bah! What, you can't take a poke to the head?” He waved his cane around, swinging it by the shopkeeper's head several times.

“Sir, please get down from the counter.”

“I won't be told what to do in my town!” the man swung his cane once more, this time catching the shopkeeper full in the face and knocking him to the floor. “I won't!”

* * *

“Please, officer, I can explain,” the man pleaded as the plump, bearded police officer handcuffed him and lead him to the black and white car outside. The shopkeeper watched from inside, through the glass doors, as the man was tossed into the back seat. 

“There'll be enough time for explainin' downtown, sir,” the police officer responded, slamming the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat. As the vehicle pulled away from the front of the store and across the parking lot, heading down the avenue beyond, the shopkeeper held a pack of ice to his nose and sighed. They really needed to up the security at the nursing home.
THE END

 Awesome story right? Silly old people walking on conveyor belts! What's the craziest thing your grandparent has done (or any older person you know)? Comment below! 

 Have a story or poem to submit? Click here! 

 Be sure to submit a Shout-out or Question for Friday and to tune back here Thursday for the fandom battle! 

 Also, we are on Twitter and Instagram now! You all have no excuses to not subscribe or follow us on something, we are on EVERYTHING now! 

 See ya Thursday!

~SarChi
Short Story

Astorian Tales Part 1

Hey guys! Welcomes to the first full week of Scribbles returning! First of tons to come, right? ;) As we've said, Monday's will feature a serial (a story posted chapter by chapter, once a week) and unlike the old Scribbles, this time you the readers get to vote on the outcome of the story. Each week! So if you like dragons, fantasy, magic, assassins, ship battles, and more, sit back, grab a cup of coffee, or tea, or just your imagination, and let's get this going!




- - - - - 

-->
 Week 1

The sleek black craft glided on the tumultuous waves, tossed to and fro, but never plunging beneath the writhing waters. The rain slapped against the ink black sails and mast of the boat. Though not visible through the thrashing water, wind, and rain, the cliffs of Dalen rose starkly to the heavens, somewhere up ahead. The boat’s captain fought against the wheel, keeping a steady, oblique course towards the shore, as his crew scurried about, keeping ropes tied and sails taut.
Below deck, amid the heaving and rolling, a man tied a waterproof bundle. He had stripped down to his trousers. He pulled the cinch tight on his equipment, strapped it to his back with a leather belt, then headed to the deck, steadying himself with his arms. The freezing rain stung his bare torso. He grimaced and made his way to the captain. The intensity of the storm cut communication to the bare minimum and so the man simply pointed in the direction where he knew the cliffs lay. The captain nodded.
Now, as the cliffs came into view as dark silhouettes with no distinguishable shape, the man carefully made his way to the edge of the boat and grasped the railing. The captain waved his hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, the man propelled himself over the edge of the boat. His body plunged beneath the ice-cold water, then he pushed himself to the surface, gasping and spluttering at the dramatic change of temperature. Then, once he found the cliffs in the hazy sky, he began to swim toward them with broad, powerful strokes.
The waves dragged him back and forth, helping his endeavor one moment, undoing it the next. At last, he came within view of a small beach, protected by jagged sea rocks. An undercurrent swept him below and he fought to regain the surface. He swallowed water as he went down, and came back up coughing and choking. The waves tossed him towards the razor-sharp rocks, but he managed to grab ahold of one. The sea tugged at his feet every which way, but he held on, grunting in exertion. Then, as a particular wave crashed inland, he used the momentum to pull himself atop the rock.
For several minutes the man laid on his back, regaining his breath. When he pushed himself up he surveyed what route he might take to get to the beach. The waves thundered against the sea rocks for another hundred feet before splaying out into a small pool that lapped at the sand.  Now he had a choice. He could both hop from rock to rock, and hope to make it to shore without getting knocked back into the frigid sea, or he could wait till dawn, which by his calculations would be no more than two hours, by which time the storm should have subsided. 


- - - - - 

Now comes the most exciting part of today! 
As the reader it is now your chance to choose which route the man takes. Either:
A.) Quickly hop from rock to rock, or
B.) Wait until dawn and carefully make his way to the beach  
Let us know in the comments below!



Thank you so much for reading today's edition of Scribbles! Be sure to subscribe either by Facebook - Click me!, Instagram - Click Me Too!, Twitter - #ClickME, YWS - la la l- oh. MEEE!!, and/or Bloglovin - ME! ME! , to stay in touch with us and see what's coming every day!
See you tomorrow


~SarChi


Beasts of Astoria

Return Date Announcement! (And What Happened To The Guy In The Forest?)

We're here again! Scribbles has finally gotten down a return date, and none too soon. We know you're all dying to see when we'll be returning, but, there's first this little matter of a man fighting a beast in a jungle. So let's get back to that, shall we! And if you stick around till the end, there may be a certain string of numbers you've been waiting for! Now the ending voted by you the fans by a score of 60 to 40!


 The man swiped like a madman, slicing the beast’s soft underbelly. It sprang back on its haunches with a screech, flaring its nostrils and pawing the ground. A bright flash in the trees caught its attention, giving the man enough time to stand and run the opposite direction. Just when the beast was about to give chase, an emerald arrow pierced its neck in between the scaly skin. The best staggered, then collapsed.


The man stopped when he heard the heavy thud. He saw the dead beast, saw the shaft buried in its body. What he didn’t see was the arrow zipping towards his chest. It threw him to the ground, and his entire body lit up with pain. A single cry emerged from his throat, and the tears flowed freely down his cheeks. The color drained from his face and he lost feeling. His body was giving up. His eyes closed and his heart stopped.
The unseen archer soon was at the side of the fallen man. He snatched a leather satchel that the fleeing man had dropped in the conflict.


“You never escape the Emerald. Never.”
There it is! It was a close vote, but letter B won, showing that you wanted to see the man get away, or at the least, see a good action scene! And as a result you met a member of the Emerald! The Emerald is an organization that you will see in upcoming posts when we begin "Beasts of Astoria", the choice voted on Facebook! 

 And now, the moment you've been waiting for:



That's right folks! We're coming back on New Years! Now you have an even more legitimate reason to stay up to 3 or 4am! (EST time that is) 

 See you on New Years! 

 ~SarChi
Beasts of Astoria

We're Almost Back!

Hey! Scribbleteers, what is up? It's been a long time since we've seen each other! And while we are not quite ready to re-launch, (the day is drawing closer though) we want to give you a taste of what is coming, and to show our appreciation for your patience with us. :) The following story is an example of what our Monday's will be like. A chapter will be written, and then, based on your choice, the next week it will continue in the direction you want. So without further introduction:



The forest was enshrouded in a fine mist. The rain had kept up through the night, taking turns pouring in huge downfalls, then subsiding to nothing more than a light drizzle. Now, as morning dawned, the sun fought with all its might to fight through the dense blanket of clouds and spread warmth on the earth, and specifically on the dark forest running along the high cliffs of Astoria.

Fantasy

Kings of the Skies Chapter 3 Dragon Duo

It's Monday, and Monday's are hard to get up on, and hard to get through, butt Scribbles is here to help with another chapter from Kings of the Skies. And this one's got dragooooons! Or one to be precise. Either way please enjoy! :)


The dragon sailed over the tree line, rustling the leaves as it passed them by. Kip pulled up on the reins as they headed for an oncoming slope.
“Come on Jumper! Up! Up! You can do it girl.” She yelled into the dragon’s ear.
Kip let Jumper the ascent. She hung onto the reins and felt as Jumper angled upward, surging forward with broad strokes of her emerald-colored wings. Gravity tugged at Kip, trying it best to pull her from her seat, but she clutched on looking forward. A spectacularly pine tree rose above the rest of the forest and Jumper was headed straight for it. Kip laughed nervously.
“Jumper? Come on girl, spin!”
The tree closed in quickly. Just as the dragon’s snout was about to plunged headfirst into the tree, Jumper tucked her wings. Kip pressed her body against the dragon’s neck as it began to spiral. The world flashed upside down in a mix of green, brown, and blue. Kip held her breath the entire time. They leveled out with a jerk from Jumper. To Kip’s relief and excitement they were over the rise in the forest, the pine tree now behind and to the left.
“You did it jumpy!” Kip exclaimed with a tone of joy mixed in with more than enough relief. “I knew you could do it!”
Kip’s face split into a wide smile from ear to ear. The two had been practicing the spiral dodge for some time, and it was the first time they had done it without incident. Jumper registered the tone in Kip’s voice and responded by shaking her head and swishing her tail. Kip felt a small rumble throughout Jumper’s body as well.
“Now, let’s try one last time on the way back home.” Kip turned the leather reins wrapped around Jumper’s muscular, scaled neck.
Jumper turned with grace as Kip stood up on her stirrups. It was more than dangerous, but Kip was feeling pretty good. She’ll catch me if I fall. She’s done it before. The duo headed back down the slope.
Now that they had about-faced, Kip’s view had changed from rolling hills and forests, to a plain stretching to the edge of Revaltree. The cottages for the farmers speckled out about two miles from the large stockade of the outer rim of the city. Inside, although not visible from her vantage point, Kip knew, there was a bustle of activities complete with vendors, farmers selling produce, butcher shops, stables, and the blacksmith off near the back. Beyond that rose the strong towers and buttresses of the actual castle in all its grandeur of waving pennants, black-shingled roofs, and to the left of the main keep were the massive dragon barns, small brown blobs from the sky.
“Let’s do this right again, eh Jumpy?” Kip whispered. Jumper responded by shaking her head back and forth. Kip leaned back, just to be on the safe side. Don’t need have her stab me through the throat with her horn.
It was much more difficult to pick out the tall pine coming down the slope. The backdrop of the forest rather than the sky helped it to blend in with its surroundings. I’ll Jumper handle this. Her senses are better than mine. Kip patted Jumper on the neck before she gripped the reins and sunk down in her seat once more. The pine tree rose out of nowhere, barely a hundred feet in front of the duo. Flying downhill had already increased Jumper’s speed, and when she tucked her wings she dropped like a sack of potatoes. Kip sucked in a lungful of breath and hung on for dear life.
Jumper grazed her left wing against the branches as they shot by, knocking them off balance. Kip slid in her saddle, desperate to hold on. Her grip loosened as they spiraled again and again at an awkward downward angle. Everything passing by was a blur. Her hair flew out of its band and slapped her in the face. Her head felt like it was about to explode. Then with a tremendous jolt they were level Kip left the seat of Jumper for a moment before dropping hard onto it.
“Land jumper, land,” she coughed out, lungs sucking in air. They circled for a moment before Jumper found a clearing large enough for her, and they descended. The moment Jumper’s paws touched the lush green grass of the quaint clearing, Kip slipped out of her saddle and plopped to the ground. Her knees were or wobbly than she had expected and she tripped to her knees. She sat there for several minutes, trying to keep her stomach down. The clearing was still spinning in her view, but Kip managed to spot a waterhole which Jumper was drinking from like there was no tomorrow, and she dragged herself to the edge of it.
Kip plunged her head into the water, and came up spluttering from the shock of cold. Then she trust her head back in, holding it there for a good two minutes. She slammed her eyes shut, trying to stop the dizzy spell. She pulled herself from the water and took several deep breaths. The world was fairly calm down. The only motion was the ripples falling from her face and hair, and the woodpecker pecking away across the waterhole. Jumper’s eyes were wide, glancing back and forth from the woodpecker to Kip to the woodpecker.
Kip took one look at herself in the reflection of the stilling water. Her auburn hair was in a sopping tangled mess, with her hairband twisted around a few strands. Her cheeks were rosy, her wide lips pursed. Not that bad considering all the times we’ve crashed. Kip turned to Jumper who was still prancing back and forth on her paws, watching the woodpecker. Kip laid a hand on Jumper’s wet nose.
“Hey girl, let’s go.”
Jumper turned and looked Kip over, as if giving her an inspection. She sniffed Kip’s hand and hair, then took a step back as if the investigation was complete and Kip was free to go. But just as she took a step forward, Jumper extended her big pink tongue, and gave Kip a hearty lick on her face.
“Hey!” Kip said in a playful, kiddish voice, “How dare you insult the royal family like that?” She took a clump of dirt from the edge of the water and hurled it at the dragon. It splattered across Jumper’s underside of her whitish-green neck. Jumper Shook her head and barred her teeth, rising up on her hind legs.
“Wide open target, eh?” Kip smirked, pelting Jumper’s belly with the mud.
Jumper let out a small growl, followed by a sort of whimper similar to that of a dog, then she rose of and jumped into the water hole, head first. The splash sent water cascading onto Kip who held up her arms to shield the splash.
“You little brat,” she hollered, jumping into the water.
Jumper hopped to the side, sending a small wave that knocked Kip from her feet. She came up with hair all over her eyes. Wiping the auburn hair away, she ran to Jumper, slipped underneath the dragon, and smacked her. Jumper’s eyes went wide and she stuck her head between her two front legs. Kip meanwhile slipped around the other side and hopped into her saddle.
Jumper’s head shot up, confused for a second. She swung it back and looked Kip straight in the eyes. With a defiant buck she sent Kip into the water once more, before crashing to her side and sticking her legs up in the air. Kip pushed herself up and rubbed the dragon’s belly.
“You’re just a big baby, aren’t you?”
In response, Jumper stuck her tongue over one side of her mouth. Kip laughed.



Thanks for reading today, Scribblets! We'll be back tomorrow, and then Thursday and Friday. See you tomorrow!!! rawr
~SarChi
Dragons
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