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Just an Average Day for Petyr

 
Petyr's picture
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"Aaah..." he groaned in contentment after another sip of his half empty tea cup. It wasn't the fancy stuff he use to drink, but since his seclusion he's found out a decent recipe for really delicious tea with ingredients he can grow himself. For some reason he had a tune for some song stuck in his head... What was it called? Something about imagination and chocolate... Boy it'd bug him all day. He dropped his feet from a kicked-up position off of the table he was sitting at that looked out a window facing east, a large orange sun in the distance. This was the beginning of his routine every day. Wake up, brew some tea, cook breakfast and watch the sunrise. It was probably bad for his eyes now that he thought about it.


Pulling weeds from the garden out back that he had kept always took his mind off the troublesome neighbors. Occasionally a Rotter got stuck somewhere or came within earshot just faint enough to be more than white noise and it irritated him. Overall they posed little threat but who wants undead freaks around? Certainly not him. He'd either kill and burn them or just wait for them to wander off. He made so little noise here that often times they just didn't notice him.
His favorite flower to plant were the Marigolds, but he also had several other plants he didn't really remember or recognize the names of.
The real garden was out front, it hosted tomatoes, potatoes and lettuce mostly, but sometimes he'd find something nice like cilantro or basil and keep them around for a little while. It was difficult keeping everything watered and growing healthy together.


Out of all his daily habits and chores, polishing the old inteceptor was probably his favorite. He had never really been a car guy but for some reason he felt connected to the white and black piece of junk. He hadn't driven it in... Two years? Maybe more than that now but he kept it looking pretty. He had to take the fuel out of it after one scavenger tried to steal it but other than that there had been no trouble leaving her outside the fenced in area.


Laundry, always one of his least favorite activities. Even without a suit, or friends, he always liked looking his best though and would constantly wash his dirty farmhand clothes. While they washed and dried he would usually try to read from the small collection he had. His favorite book by far was "How To Swindle A Traveler: A Complicated Guide" by Red Tooth - a name he figured was Children in origin - that was just filled with two hundred pages of "DONT" written across them in a variety of fonts and colors. Obviously he couldn't read that so much as get amusement so he actually read farming books usually to see if he could improve.


At the end of the day, after the plants were cared for, the car was cleaned and the clothes were folded, he'd make himself dinner. It usually consisted of vegetables but occasionally he'd find some kind of meat. Squirrel, pig, horse, it didn't really matter how he got the protein. He'd relax at the same table as in the morning, but this time the sun had long gone down. Such a disappointment. He'd eat his meal and do the dishes before taking a couple hours free time to do whatever he wanted. Then he'd go to bed.


Petyr put his plate in the sink "I'll wash you in a minute." he said as he walked over to the basement. Opening the door, to the left was a small switch. He'd flick it up to turn the lights on, halfway down the steps a square hole had been cut into the wall to hold a box of surgical masks and a box of latex gloves. Petyr would casually walk down the steps, grabbing two gloves and a mask, putting them on before he reached the end of the stairs.
"Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of pure imagination!" he said, to himself of course. At the end of the steps lay a metallic surgery table that had been here since he first moved in. On it lay the dead body, two holes in the chest, from where he stabbed that would-be assassin. On the table was a tray with tools, most prominently a small hacksaw.
"We'll begin, with a spin. Traveling in a world of my creation!" he sang as he began to hack a leg off the corpse.
"This'll go great with the tomatoes tomorrow." he said... To himself of course.

Comments

Joe Spivey's picture

((There I was, smiling at Petyr gardening, Petyr polishing his car, doing the dishes, the laundry... and then      0.0      Brilliant! (but still kinda eeeewwwwww at the same time)

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Petyr's picture

((He's a simple man living a simple life these days.))

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Canni Belle's picture

((If Canni knew where he lived she would totally show up for dinner))

One minute your calm, the next your shooting someone in the face, then your doing your chickendance. If that is not chaos I dont know what is - Aiid

Petyr's picture

((Even I forget where he lives honestly. It's been too long since I been in game but it's an actual location somewhere in S2 I think. I found a house with a basement and I was like "Fuck yeah, this is it."))

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Reavy's picture

I think i know where that is! 

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Joe Spivey's picture

Reavy knows where there is a secluded house with a basement... Is anyone surprised..? Anyone..? No, didn't thinks so.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Subdane's picture

((Didn't care where he got the protein from?! Are you sure that is for the tomatoes? 

Nice entry. 



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