Shi-chan: We like this fic lots because it's of our new favorite manga.
Da-chan: We'll post it sometime (though if you're reading it off the net it has already been posted), but hopefully FF.net has POH, or else we're just writing this for the hell of it.
Shi-chan: For Ami-san, Ko-chan, and Ya-chan.
Da-chan: Don't forget anyone else that wants to read it!
Disclaimer:
Perhaps if we ask Matsuri Akino really nicely, he'll give us right to own POH, but for now we're stuck with the disclaimers.
Warning:
Um, I think we'll rate this one. um. lets see. pg13? That's what Shi-chan says, because there's some cussing or something (I forgot again '-';;).
Enjoy!
Petshop of Horrors
'When it Rains at Night'
Layer 1
Friend or Shopkeeper?
"Hey! Don't diss the Potter, man!"
"I'm not dissing anyone. All I'm saying is that Harry Potter is a more childish version of Tolkien's writings."
Ched glared at the boy in front of her over the rim of her glasses. She snapped the book 'Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them*' shut and leaned forward with a stern face.
(*Harry Potter school book)
"You want a piece of this, chubby?"
Gladys waved his hands about him. "No, no. What I mean is that I like Tolkiens' arts more because they're more hardcore."
A vein popped in the young redheads temple. "Hardcore? HARDCORE!? I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S HARD CORE!! RUNNING YOUR ASS OVER WITH A SPIKE-WHEELED MOTORBIKE!! NOW THAT'S HARDCORE!!"
Gladys slinked back to his group of oddball Tolkien fans, and, with a rueful look that would have scarred the moon, reentered the newly founded bookstore full of ancient pages created by Tolkien and other oddball cretins only God knew of.
(I'm not saying I dun like Tolkien. In fact, I luv him, but I dun like people that say Harry Potter sucks more than a whore (J.J;;).)
She ran a green and purple finger-nailed hand threw her dark red hair. Perhaps she should find a spike-wheeled motorcycle and roll into their store, singing "on top of mount Smokey, all covered in blood."
Naw. That would just show how barbaric. how human she was. Anyways, why should she get so upset as to beat the living crap out of LOTR fans just because of a little book argument?
/I'll tell ya why! / Shouted her mirrored self in her mind. /Because by dissing Harry Potter, they're dissing the book's fans! /
Ched ignored her mental self's protests of not wanting to be a barbaric human and kill the aku mo-foes in the shop.
(K now. We're gonna go into the characters POV for a minute or two, so dun freak out.)
(Ched's POV)
As I approached the shop of my manners, the usual fragrance of the holding waffled out. I've been stationed at this seemingly different shop for only two days, though I am told that the incense of use always burns there.
As I enter, I hang my backpack and coat on the cherry wood coat hanger.
Something brushes against my leg. A white cat with black stripes purrs softly at my feet.
Damn. Another one of his feline friends.
He meows as I pick him up, tail flickering in my face. I grab it gently as it swings under my nose.
The aku cat sniffs the air and jumps out of my arms; right when I'm two steps from the door I was to put him in if he got out of his cage. He jets into the said room.
My manager, Count D, though he says the real Count D is abroad in the countryside, smiles from the counter, from which I didn't notice him at first as I had come into the shop.
"I just purchased some catnip for them, so they should be anxious."
"No kidding."
I sat down behind the counter beside him. He smiled kindly at me and pulled out a scroll. Unrolling it, he said, "when you first came into this shop, I asked you to wait until the third day to sign our shop policy contract, so that you would get a small idea of what work is like here. So now I ask you this, Chelsea Tourmaline. Do you wish to continue working here?"
I looked to the ceiling. Did I want to work here. permanently? With all those weird phone calls, sometimes people begging for help with their pets, usually sounding like it was life threatening. And that weird police man, always lingering around the shop, sometimes saying things like "I'll get him, I swear." or "you're going down. One of these days, D, one of these days."
I looked to him, unsure of what I was committing myself to. "My foster. my dad is very ill. My mum is doing all she can to pay for the operation beforehand, but now we're living off of savings. No offense, but I don't know if I truly want to work here, but for the sake of my family, I will, because, well. it has a good pay and we really need the money. We can barely support ourselves right now."
/Heh, heh. How could I have gone from being so tough with ramming spikes up those bakas' arces with barely being able to keep from crying? I'm so pathetic./ I thought to meself.
Count D nodded, though his smile faded from his face. He planted the scroll across the table, small red scribbles covering the skin colored parchment.
I leaned closer. On closer inspection, the paper was more of a leatherish material than what I first thought. The scribbles were ineligible.
"Um, I can't read it. Shouldn't I be able to actually read it before signing it?"
"Well, yes, but I couldn't find my other more suitable types of working contracts, so this will have to do."
I faltered before taking the pen the Count offered. "Will you, err, tell me the basic rules or whatever this thing has written on it?"
The Count thwacked himself in the head, making me wonder whether my boss was sane or not. "Oh, silly me." He cleared his throat:
"I'll skip the boring parts and get to the basics; you will remain within the shop or on errand and will not leave your current duty assigned to you until allowed. School grades must be passing or otherwise you will be suspended from your duties without pay. And last but not least, you must not reveal this shops associations with certain animals and/or people under any circumstances."
(I didn't know any better ways of writing the last rule, so just bear with me people.)
I dipped the pen into the ink bottled the Count had set on the counter. Crimson liquid dripped from its tip. I smelled nothing signifying this was actually ink, but at the moment I wasn't paying very close attention to my surroundings. The incense was intoxicating. The room unto which I had become accustomed to in the couple of days of my pre-hiration swirled before me. My eyelids were heavy, and I fought to keep them open. My head hit the marble counter like a rock. My hand, accompanied by the pen stretched to the side of me.
Red hair covered my half open eyes. Count D's face appeared to my right.
"Do you need some help?" He smiled. I hadn't the energy to complain when he moved my hand to the document less than an inch away from my face. He held my hand over the document. his touch was so gentle and soft. My wrist twitched and my fingers scribbled my name, though it was so sloppy that it was like the same writing above it.
The pen clattered to the desk, as I could not support its weight anymore. My eyes closed.
I was still conscious, but only just barley. Before I entered the darkened dream world that takes me every night, the Count, still holding my wrist, applied pressure from his thumbnail to my skin. He slid it sideways, making a small slit in my wrist.
I could almost feel his smile on my face. The moment's silence was deafening, until I heard three small splashes.
I opened my eyes, but only so much as to see them. Three red dots, one after another, trailing my signature.
"Sleep well, my new friend," his voice whispered into my ear. "Tomorrow will be your first busy day."
Then the nightmares came, galloping in all their glory, leaving their moon marks in the shadowed realm of my dreams, bringing images of the scary possibilities of what I had just done.
~
Da-chan: (Hugs self.) I like that one. It makes me all fuzzy inside.
Shi-chan: And in case you guys dun get the nightmares bit, read a couple of Xanth novels and you'll get the main idea.
Da-chan: (Hugs Imbri) I luv nightmares!
Vamp Takato: Hey! Shouldn't you guys be writing about me?
Da-chan: Yeah! I should start writing the 3rd chapter of Devoured, huh?
VT: NO!! YOU HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT ME, NOT YOU AND THE GOOD TAKATO.
Good Takato: (Holding a Zen garden rake above head) Who ever said I was good? (Thwacks VT)
VT: x.x;;
GT: (Glomps Da-chan because she made him) '-';;
Shi-chan: Oh, and by the way, please review and tell us what Count D should have in store for Ched for the 'busy day' he mentioned.
Q-chan: (Holds up picky of mermaid)
Shi-chan: NO!! Not that again! I've had enough of mermaids.
Q-chan: (Turns to readers) Chee! Chee! (Holds up sign: 'Jaa Ne')
Da-chan: We'll post it sometime (though if you're reading it off the net it has already been posted), but hopefully FF.net has POH, or else we're just writing this for the hell of it.
Shi-chan: For Ami-san, Ko-chan, and Ya-chan.
Da-chan: Don't forget anyone else that wants to read it!
Disclaimer:
Perhaps if we ask Matsuri Akino really nicely, he'll give us right to own POH, but for now we're stuck with the disclaimers.
Warning:
Um, I think we'll rate this one. um. lets see. pg13? That's what Shi-chan says, because there's some cussing or something (I forgot again '-';;).
Enjoy!
Petshop of Horrors
'When it Rains at Night'
Layer 1
Friend or Shopkeeper?
"Hey! Don't diss the Potter, man!"
"I'm not dissing anyone. All I'm saying is that Harry Potter is a more childish version of Tolkien's writings."
Ched glared at the boy in front of her over the rim of her glasses. She snapped the book 'Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them*' shut and leaned forward with a stern face.
(*Harry Potter school book)
"You want a piece of this, chubby?"
Gladys waved his hands about him. "No, no. What I mean is that I like Tolkiens' arts more because they're more hardcore."
A vein popped in the young redheads temple. "Hardcore? HARDCORE!? I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S HARD CORE!! RUNNING YOUR ASS OVER WITH A SPIKE-WHEELED MOTORBIKE!! NOW THAT'S HARDCORE!!"
Gladys slinked back to his group of oddball Tolkien fans, and, with a rueful look that would have scarred the moon, reentered the newly founded bookstore full of ancient pages created by Tolkien and other oddball cretins only God knew of.
(I'm not saying I dun like Tolkien. In fact, I luv him, but I dun like people that say Harry Potter sucks more than a whore (J.J;;).)
She ran a green and purple finger-nailed hand threw her dark red hair. Perhaps she should find a spike-wheeled motorcycle and roll into their store, singing "on top of mount Smokey, all covered in blood."
Naw. That would just show how barbaric. how human she was. Anyways, why should she get so upset as to beat the living crap out of LOTR fans just because of a little book argument?
/I'll tell ya why! / Shouted her mirrored self in her mind. /Because by dissing Harry Potter, they're dissing the book's fans! /
Ched ignored her mental self's protests of not wanting to be a barbaric human and kill the aku mo-foes in the shop.
(K now. We're gonna go into the characters POV for a minute or two, so dun freak out.)
(Ched's POV)
As I approached the shop of my manners, the usual fragrance of the holding waffled out. I've been stationed at this seemingly different shop for only two days, though I am told that the incense of use always burns there.
As I enter, I hang my backpack and coat on the cherry wood coat hanger.
Something brushes against my leg. A white cat with black stripes purrs softly at my feet.
Damn. Another one of his feline friends.
He meows as I pick him up, tail flickering in my face. I grab it gently as it swings under my nose.
The aku cat sniffs the air and jumps out of my arms; right when I'm two steps from the door I was to put him in if he got out of his cage. He jets into the said room.
My manager, Count D, though he says the real Count D is abroad in the countryside, smiles from the counter, from which I didn't notice him at first as I had come into the shop.
"I just purchased some catnip for them, so they should be anxious."
"No kidding."
I sat down behind the counter beside him. He smiled kindly at me and pulled out a scroll. Unrolling it, he said, "when you first came into this shop, I asked you to wait until the third day to sign our shop policy contract, so that you would get a small idea of what work is like here. So now I ask you this, Chelsea Tourmaline. Do you wish to continue working here?"
I looked to the ceiling. Did I want to work here. permanently? With all those weird phone calls, sometimes people begging for help with their pets, usually sounding like it was life threatening. And that weird police man, always lingering around the shop, sometimes saying things like "I'll get him, I swear." or "you're going down. One of these days, D, one of these days."
I looked to him, unsure of what I was committing myself to. "My foster. my dad is very ill. My mum is doing all she can to pay for the operation beforehand, but now we're living off of savings. No offense, but I don't know if I truly want to work here, but for the sake of my family, I will, because, well. it has a good pay and we really need the money. We can barely support ourselves right now."
/Heh, heh. How could I have gone from being so tough with ramming spikes up those bakas' arces with barely being able to keep from crying? I'm so pathetic./ I thought to meself.
Count D nodded, though his smile faded from his face. He planted the scroll across the table, small red scribbles covering the skin colored parchment.
I leaned closer. On closer inspection, the paper was more of a leatherish material than what I first thought. The scribbles were ineligible.
"Um, I can't read it. Shouldn't I be able to actually read it before signing it?"
"Well, yes, but I couldn't find my other more suitable types of working contracts, so this will have to do."
I faltered before taking the pen the Count offered. "Will you, err, tell me the basic rules or whatever this thing has written on it?"
The Count thwacked himself in the head, making me wonder whether my boss was sane or not. "Oh, silly me." He cleared his throat:
"I'll skip the boring parts and get to the basics; you will remain within the shop or on errand and will not leave your current duty assigned to you until allowed. School grades must be passing or otherwise you will be suspended from your duties without pay. And last but not least, you must not reveal this shops associations with certain animals and/or people under any circumstances."
(I didn't know any better ways of writing the last rule, so just bear with me people.)
I dipped the pen into the ink bottled the Count had set on the counter. Crimson liquid dripped from its tip. I smelled nothing signifying this was actually ink, but at the moment I wasn't paying very close attention to my surroundings. The incense was intoxicating. The room unto which I had become accustomed to in the couple of days of my pre-hiration swirled before me. My eyelids were heavy, and I fought to keep them open. My head hit the marble counter like a rock. My hand, accompanied by the pen stretched to the side of me.
Red hair covered my half open eyes. Count D's face appeared to my right.
"Do you need some help?" He smiled. I hadn't the energy to complain when he moved my hand to the document less than an inch away from my face. He held my hand over the document. his touch was so gentle and soft. My wrist twitched and my fingers scribbled my name, though it was so sloppy that it was like the same writing above it.
The pen clattered to the desk, as I could not support its weight anymore. My eyes closed.
I was still conscious, but only just barley. Before I entered the darkened dream world that takes me every night, the Count, still holding my wrist, applied pressure from his thumbnail to my skin. He slid it sideways, making a small slit in my wrist.
I could almost feel his smile on my face. The moment's silence was deafening, until I heard three small splashes.
I opened my eyes, but only so much as to see them. Three red dots, one after another, trailing my signature.
"Sleep well, my new friend," his voice whispered into my ear. "Tomorrow will be your first busy day."
Then the nightmares came, galloping in all their glory, leaving their moon marks in the shadowed realm of my dreams, bringing images of the scary possibilities of what I had just done.
~
Da-chan: (Hugs self.) I like that one. It makes me all fuzzy inside.
Shi-chan: And in case you guys dun get the nightmares bit, read a couple of Xanth novels and you'll get the main idea.
Da-chan: (Hugs Imbri) I luv nightmares!
Vamp Takato: Hey! Shouldn't you guys be writing about me?
Da-chan: Yeah! I should start writing the 3rd chapter of Devoured, huh?
VT: NO!! YOU HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT ME, NOT YOU AND THE GOOD TAKATO.
Good Takato: (Holding a Zen garden rake above head) Who ever said I was good? (Thwacks VT)
VT: x.x;;
GT: (Glomps Da-chan because she made him) '-';;
Shi-chan: Oh, and by the way, please review and tell us what Count D should have in store for Ched for the 'busy day' he mentioned.
Q-chan: (Holds up picky of mermaid)
Shi-chan: NO!! Not that again! I've had enough of mermaids.
Q-chan: (Turns to readers) Chee! Chee! (Holds up sign: 'Jaa Ne')