This is a collaboration with Dither. I don’t know if there is actually a reading order, but it started here. Things are still kind of running parallel, but there’s a sort of chronology in place now. I think. This guy first appeared on Dither’s blog here, but DB is my character and so his actual introduction is here.
> Be that other guy.
Okay, you’re that other guy.
It’s nice to see your friends having fun because of some awesome thing you did. Even if you can’t join them. Maybe later, if you survive feeding stupid Libertina.
But before that, you’ll need a proper name.
> Enter name.
FINN MURPHY ✔
Your name is FINN MURPHY.
You are ARROGANT AND VERBOSE but this does not bother you because you know that you are the most amazing piece of masterpiece-level perfection ever to grace the planet with the touch of your astonishingly flawless foot.
Although you have a great deal of INTERESTS, you are too SELF-POSSESSED to talk about them.
Except in the case of MEDIEVAL WEAPONRY. Holy crap you worship MEDIEVAL WEAPONRY.
They cover the walls of your cavernous basement-like bedroom. Half of them are bigger than you are, and you don’t know how to use any fraction of them. But you live in a pretty dangerous neighbourhood, and weapons are pretty much a NECESSITY.
This is why you carry a GUN at all times.
A low growl that would frighten questing beasts and tigers rips through the air, rattling your reinforced walls. You cover your ears and growl back. Although you are not as impressive as Libertina, you like to think you make up for it by being far more irritable. You are a TEENAGER, after all.
> Go feed Libertina already.
You’re going, you’re going. Of all of your insane chores, feeding execrable Libertina is the worst.
But if you don’t do it, no one will. Your UNCLE took the whole nearly-eating-his-hand incident pretty hard. Which doesn’t seem fair, it was only his left hand. He hardly uses it.
Grumbling, you kick aside a pile of DOG-EARED PROGRAMMING MANUALS to unearth your LIBERTINA-FEEDING GEAR. You made it yourself out of SCRAP METAL and CANNIBALISED SUITS OF ARMOUR.
Your UNCLE barely missed any of the SUITS OF ARMOUR you took to make your LIBERTINA-FEEDING GEAR. Heaven knows he keeps enough of them around the house.
Insomuch that it is a house. You’d say that you can barely see the carpet for all the SUITS OF ARMOUR, but there isn’t actually any carpet to see. There also isn’t a house. Not really.
The truth is, you live in a CAVE.
Once properly equipped, you venture out of the CAVE into the FREEZING TUNDRA. The blizzard is getting pretty bad. It’s probably the reason that Libertina has been so peckish lately.
Outside, her roars of beastly hunger are even more soul-shaking. The howling wind does little to muffle the sound.
On the way to her cave–thankfully separate from your own CAVE in almost every possible geographical way–you stop to get a cow carcass from the natural meat locker. Your UNCLE constructed it years ago, for this very purpose. To hold onto Libertina’s lunch.
> Hurry up and feed that odious Libertina.
That is what you’re doing. Be patient. Certainly, it’s a chore that can’t be over with too soon, but whinging on about it won’t make it go faster.
Of course, that’s never stopped you from whinging on about it, but that’s a matter of principle. TEENAGE principle.
You clank your way through the snow until you reach Libertina’s cave, hauling the stiff cow corpse behind you like a little girl with a rag doll.
You’re too skinny to carry it any other way. You’d think that performing this repugnant task as many times as you have, you would have developed a bit of muscle. But no.
The roars turn to anticipatory whines. Libertina smells your approach and trumpets like a swan.
A vast, scaley, green swan the size of an actual house and not a CAVE.
Of course Libertina is a DRAGON. She could hardly be anything else. If she was not a DRAGON, then you would just make her find her own food. But so long as you feed her, she stays chained up in her enclosure and doesn’t try to devour you and your UNCLE.