Am I my Clockwinder’s keeper? Goodness, according to most it would seem that I am. Though I’ve not laid eyes on the chap
in some time, I have heard the rather disturbing news that his Thursday games
with Mr. Underby continue, and that he was indeed seen helping to renovate Mr.
Underby’s new piece of property (and I could swear that Mr. Tenk had once said
he’d never allow Mr. Underby to own land inside New Babbage!). No good could possibly come of this.
Yet, the reason I haven’t leapt into action and taken to
haunting his doorstep is quite simple: the man, the few times I have laid eyes
on him, has been more than polite.
He’s even offered assistance the one or two times I’ve been caught
unawares at the pub and he’s, evidently, had a bit of a chat with the misses,
as she’s become suddenly tolerable of late. She’s even allowed Pocket back into her bakery (though, as
Maggie grumbled, or rather, as Maggie shrieked in frustration, no good will
come of that).
I am sorry that my two bartenders have announced their
intention to leave my employment and seek adventure in America. I am caught up in a bit of envy myself,
as I’ve had the constant urge to take to the skies (fueled, no doubt, by my
complete inability to sleep properly of late, as those peculiar sounds I keep
hearing are continually keeping me up at night). But with the Gangplank having been open barely two-months
since the fire, and the loss of two employees, I can hardly justify the sudden
absence for any length of time that would make taking to the skies a reasonable
option. Something truly
spectacular would have to draw me away from the city at this point.
I have, at last, laid eyes on the peculiar Mr. Slenderman
(as I believe I’ve heard him called).
As expected a creature which goes about attempting to possess others had
very little interest in me. I was
surprised to see it in Clockhaven, given the, ahem, troubles which affect most
spirits there. Still, It has been
known for its ghosts (there’s a resident one just down the way, in fact), and I
suppose Mr. Slenderman is hardly a man, per-se, but some sort of creature. Naturally, I feigned total ignorance as
to its nature and kicked myself inwardly for not having gone to find the
creature before it arrived on my doorstep!
I told them all I thought it was a new sort of kraken. See? Even when completely exhausted I
am still capable of a good joke.
Unfortunately, no one was laughing.
Ah, well. I
think I hear some rustling downstairs, must be the first of the evening
patrons. I’d bet attend to them