Home of P.C.S.O Curt Bulwark, protector of the street and its secrets.
Home of 'Poppy Seagrim', the name by which she is most commonly known, though she has many aliases. I believe I know her actual name, however it is not a name I want to reveal here. Number 88 is one of the street's 'ethereal' houses, and as far as I am aware, the only one of its kind to sustain a permanent resident.
Poppy has remarkable abilities and is capable of helping even the most desperate achieve their goals, avail yourself of her services however, and you will be in her debt. I would counsel against placing yourself in the position of owing Poppy a favour.
Poppy has remarkable abilities and is capable of helping even the most desperate achieve their goals, avail yourself of her services however, and you will be in her debt. I would counsel against placing yourself in the position of owing Poppy a favour.
Home of the Pudding family, Norbert Pudding, his wife Menasis, and their two semi-feral sons, Elvis and Noel.
Norbert and Menasis live their lives in a bubble of self-entitled ignorance, and are perhaps the only residents of the street who are unaware of the wonders which surround them.
The children, nine year old Elvis, and seven year old Noel, are a constant source of disappointment to their parents, who are unwilling or unable to commit to properly raising two needy, selfish children. Therefore, the boys spend a great deal of time roaming the street, and living in rudimentary shelters they have erected in their garden.
There is something else lurking alongside the Pudding family however, not in their home, but outside in the hen house, A thing so rare I had believed it's kind extinct, brought into the world in an impossible manner, it is growing, nurtured in secret by the Pudding boys.
It is my belief that soon this creature will change the lives of the Puddings for good.
Norbert and Menasis live their lives in a bubble of self-entitled ignorance, and are perhaps the only residents of the street who are unaware of the wonders which surround them.
The children, nine year old Elvis, and seven year old Noel, are a constant source of disappointment to their parents, who are unwilling or unable to commit to properly raising two needy, selfish children. Therefore, the boys spend a great deal of time roaming the street, and living in rudimentary shelters they have erected in their garden.
There is something else lurking alongside the Pudding family however, not in their home, but outside in the hen house, A thing so rare I had believed it's kind extinct, brought into the world in an impossible manner, it is growing, nurtured in secret by the Pudding boys.
It is my belief that soon this creature will change the lives of the Puddings for good.
Home to Senna and Chlamydia Hymen, their two daughters Brocolli and Belladonna, and the most recent addition to their family, Heinous. In keeping with the Hymen's chosen 'New Age Hippy' lifestyle, Heinous was welcomed into this world via a birthing pool, and his parents, fanatically devoted as they are to the concept of Bohemian parenthood, of course insisted on a 'Lotus Birth'. There were complications at the time of birth, not with the calving itself, but an unfortunate accident with electricity, some dubiously chosen timber from which the pool was constructed, and a very naughty tree frog whose skin is coated with an unusual hallucinogenic slime.
I believe that this unique combination of events contributed to a very unusual effect upon Heinous and his still attached (as far as I am aware) placenta. I intend to keep a close eye on little Heinous.
I believe that this unique combination of events contributed to a very unusual effect upon Heinous and his still attached (as far as I am aware) placenta. I intend to keep a close eye on little Heinous.
Home of Mildred Middens, perpetually smiling, houseproud pillar of the community, stalwart of the church and millinophile. Her home is unsettlingly neat and tidy, everything has a place, including the skeletons in the closets, of which there are many, they are also abundant under the patio and the vegetable patch.
There is one exception to her rigid cleaning regime. The cellar, or as it is known to those who find it their misfortune to spend time there, the dungeon. Mildred never cleans the cellar, she enjoys the detritus left by its previous occupants, it makes her feel delightfully dirty.
There is one exception to her rigid cleaning regime. The cellar, or as it is known to those who find it their misfortune to spend time there, the dungeon. Mildred never cleans the cellar, she enjoys the detritus left by its previous occupants, it makes her feel delightfully dirty.
Number fifty eight Wintermarsh Street, my home, shared with my soul-mate and concubine, Ms Crockofshit along with Fernando the sometimes animated and adventurous tree frog, Lilith, the mostly invisible and somewhat haughty English Bull Terrier, Hemlock the semi-feral vampire hare, who thanks to regular offerings of blood infused chocolate protects us from some of the more tenacious undesirable potential visitors. Outside, standing sentinel above the door to our home, is Hat, who not only protects us from uninvited guests, but also acts as my secondary eyes and ears, wherever he flies, I may see what he sees, and he makes the perfect 'squint' to allow me to see through even the thickest of walls. Below Hat, lurking in the garden, is Jackie, a short tempered Pixie who efficiently deters all but the hardiest of trespassers and neighbourhood cats with no sense of propriety concerning their toilet habits.
Home to Frank Hartnell, aspiring novelist who has occupied this place since childhood, when his father was employed by the local woollen mill and lived here in what was at the time, company owned housing provided for it's employees. This makes Frank around 132 years old, a whippersnapper compared to some, but a decent age nonetheless. Frank's father frowned upon his son's literary ambitions, believing the lad had ideas above his station and Frank was forced to practice his craft in secret, which he continues to do to this day.
It seems to most that Frank never leaves his house, however I am aware, thanks to Hat, that he does venture out once a month, on a full moon...
It seems to most that Frank never leaves his house, however I am aware, thanks to Hat, that he does venture out once a month, on a full moon...
Home to Nanny Small, a kindly witch with a dark secret, she is the sole survivor of a terrible event that took place in a settlement close to Wintermarsh street many years ago in which nine of her sisters were executed by burning, a tale for another day.
Home to Föhn, a very talented Witch, and her cat, the acerbic Erroneous.
One of the street's 'ethereal houses', which has no permanent residents.
Home to Justin Green, perhaps the worst kind of monster, the human kind.
