Reaver's Servants
Slow Day at the Office
The sound of snoring could be heard outside the wooden doors. Barry, a somewhat heavy sleeper, tossed onto his side as his wind-up alarm clock went off. "Uhh…" he groaned, trying to untangle himself from his sheets. "I don't want to go to school today, Mummy…" he muttered, reaching for the alarm clock. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, Barry pressed his hand against the alarm clock and got up.
Brushing his hair and putting on his uniform, Barry yawned loudly and opened his door. Before he was to wake up Reaver, he had to go wake the "New Recruits" as Reaver had begun calling them. His eyes still not completely open, bumping into things was inevitable, as he almost knocked over a few chairs and vases.
Opening the door to the servant's hallway, Barry straightened himself up and made sure he was awake. He knocked on each door loudly. "Alright, time to get up! Master Reaver wants you all downstairs in ten minutes! Uniforms straightened out and worn properly! Don't forget to wash up before you come down!" he yelled as he knocked on each door loudly.
Each servant got up from their dreams of performances past and got up. Each one reached for their uniforms and each put theirs on one arm at a time.
Miss Sarah, standing at the foot of her bed in her new uniform, greeted the day with a smile. She was probably the only one that got any sleep the night before. She took out the schedule Barry had given her and left her room. The others were standing outside their rooms, in uniform.
Each servant waited for a chance to wash their faces (the servant's hallway had one bathroom, though they didn't mind sharing it) and with a splash of cold water, each one woke up.
Rosie, Willa, and Beryl's uniforms were standard knee-length black dresses with white aprons. The neck lines were a little too low for comfort, but they didn't complain. On the corner of the aprons was the Reaver Industries insignia, embroidered in black. Gordon's uniform was almost identical to Barry's except with black pants. Miss Sarah's uniform was like the other girl's, except completely white (or more of a periwinkle white) and a little longer.
"Alright, you guys. Today is our first day on the job. Let's try to do our best." smiled Miss Sarah.
"…or at least not break anything." laughed Willa as Miss Sarah opened the doors leading to the main part of the home.
"No promises!" Rosie joked as they made their way through the house.
Running downstairs, they were met by their boss and Barry. "Punctual, how impressive." said Reaver, as he looked at his pocket watch. Standing in a straight line, the group watched as Reaver paced in front of them. "Alright, since today is your first day on the job officially, I don't expect a lot, and for that you should be thankful." His elegant walking stick struck the floor softly as he walked. "However, first day or not, I do not tolerate bedlam, chaos, what have you."
Reaver reached to his side and tapped the gun holster on his hip. He took out the gun, which was as elegant as him. "This lovely piece is the Dragonstomper .48. Only six were ever made. I have five of them in my possession, including this one. I use it to enforce my more…shall we say, stricter rules." He stopped and looked at them sternly. "I can tolerate many things, my dears. But inefficiency is not one of them. My recommendation to you is to find your own niche in doing your chores, and as long as I don't have to bring out the whip or my gun, you should be sufficient. Now, scamper off and get to work; I will be around shortly to inspect everything." said Reaver, jovially, as he put his gun away. "Mr. Hatch here has your chore lists."
Each servant walked over to Barry to receive their lists. Miss Sarah approached first. "Here you are, Miss Sarah. You'll find everything you need in the kitchen. Just ask for me if you need anything else." said Barry, with a blush. Nodding with a smile, blushing Miss Sarah took her list and made her way to the kitchen.
Barry handed out the rest of the lists without much else said. "Supplies are in the hall closet. Try not to break anything." He muttered, as he handed out the rest of the lists.
Barry walked to his boss, who stood by the grandfather clock by the front door. "I predict only bad things happening, Hatch." He muttered as his manservant joined him. "They seem…sane enough, Sir." reassured Barry. "There is no such thing as sanity, Hatch, at least not in this house; I figured you would have learned that by now."
Taking out his pocket watch and syncing it with the grandfather clock, Reaver sighed and looked at Barry again. "I can look past them being circus rejects. Hell, considering where I dug you up from it's a step up; but something tells me I'll be firing my gun at something by tonight."
Rosie
Before leaving, Reaver looked at Rosie, whose almost hypnotic gaze never left his. "Miss…Rosie, was it?" he asked, as the group got their chore lists and dispersed. Rosie nodded and walked over to him. "Can you do laundry?" he asked. Rosie nodded as Reaver's devilish smile grew wider. "Wonderful! You can double as my chambermaid, then. Follow me." Rosie did as she was told.
Waiting outside Reaver's room, Rosie watched as he threw clothes into a basket. "These garments haven't been cleaned since my last party, which was quite a while ago. I don't trust Barry with my laundry since that time I saw him going through the pockets."
Rosie didn't have to lean down to sniff the ripe smell coming from the clothes. She didn't want to think about what some of those stains were.
"Normally, I'd have you do all my laundry at once, but these need special attention." Reaver said, as he followed Rosie out of his room. "Now, be a good girl and take care of these. When you're done, I want my entire bedroom spotless. And be sure to stay away from the bookshelf." Reaver patted her on the head and watched as Rosie picked up the basket and left the general area.
The laundry room doubled as a basement, and Rosie knew she would have to become accustomed to it. She scrubbed each garment precisely and was silent the entire time. Reaver watched her closely. "Do be careful, those outfits were quite expensive." He repeated to her constantly.
"Yes, Mr. Reaver." She would say. Reaver sat in a nearby chair, arms folded, and watched.
"You have an air about you, Rosie. You seem a little more regal and somewhat lethargic than the others. What was your profession in the circus?" Reaver asked.
"I was a fortune teller, Sir." She answered, simply, not looking up from her work.
"A fortune teller, you say? I've had bad luck with those in the past. I don't care for the art, myself. If one can call it an art. You wouldn't happen to know a blind seer by the name of Theresa, by chance?" he asked both hands on his lap. Rosie shook her head. Reaver sighed in relief. "Well, how about a quick fortune?" he asked, jovially.
Rosie stopped what she was doing and looked at her boss, her expression became worried. "Well, you see, Sir…I was a fortune teller, but I wasn't very good at it."
"Not very good at it?" asked Reaver, somewhat confused.
Rosie nodded, looking somewhat ashamed. "You see, my predictions aren't instantaneous. They are actually quite random and don't follow a linear pattern." Reaver didn't understand. Rosie just stared at him as he stood up and looked down at her. "It's more of a side effect than anything." She said, finally.
"Side-effect of what?" asked Reaver, placing one hand on his hip.
Rosie began to quiver and stood up. "Oh boy, here comes one…" Rosie's eyes went blank as she opened them wide. They started to glow yellow and her voice started to distort.
"A SECRET PRISON WILL BE DISCOVERED BY THE QUEEN AND A SECOND REVOLUTION WILL COMMENSE"
Coming out of her trance, Rosie rubbed her head and stared at Reaver again. "That was…odd…but luckily, I have a loose interpretation of the word 'odd'." mentioned Reaver, as he left the room. He turned his head only once to see Rosie bend over to pick up a garment that fell from the basket. He snickered at the slight sight of her panties. They were pink.
Strange woman…but she might come in handy he thought, as he let his cane lead him out of the basement/laundry room.
Willa and Beryl
Early afternoon rolled around and Reaver, still not sure what to make of what he just encountered, strolled to the study. Looking at his pocket watch and noting the time, Reaver sighed as his stomach growled. "Not time for lunch yet…" he muttered, as he entered the study.
In his study, he found Willa surveying the room. "Well, Little Bit…" he said as his cane led the way toward Willa. "Now I get to see first-hand if your claims are true." Reaver still found the notion of her cleaning an entire room in less than five minutes quite hilarious.
"Yes, Sir…as soon as I find Beryl." Willa said as she looked around the room.
"Do you need her help reaching something?" Reaver chuckled.
Willa was used to jokes at her expense when it came to her height, so she just shook her head and folded her arms. "No, it's not that. Beryl insisted on cleaning some of the hard to reach places first, but now I can't find her."
Willa searched high and low as Reaver turned his head a few times (that was his contribution to the search effort). "Beryl?" shouted Willa, looking under tables and in corners. A rustling sound could be heard in the wall over the fireplace behind a big painting of Reaver. "Beryl, are you in there?" asked Willa, as she bent down and looked into the chimney.
"My dear, no one can fit up there." said Reaver, walking up to her. "The last person who tried to clean up there…"
Beryl poked her soot covered head out of the fireplace and smiled. Reaver jumped back in surprise. "My, my…it certainly was dirty up there." coughed Beryl, as she slid out of the chimney. Like a snake, Beryl curved her back and slithered out of the fireplace and back to her feet. Reaver noticed she was wearing nothing but her dress slip. Shaking the soot off of her slip, Beryl walked to the table and put her maid outfit back on. His right eye twitching, Reaver watched Beryl wipe off her glasses on her apron and put them back on. "Oh, I found out what happened to the last guy who tried to clean the chimney. I hope he didn't have family. He's up there pretty good." She commented.
Willa smiled softly and looked up at Reaver, who was in a small state of shock. "Oh, I probably should have mentioned earlier, but I am a contortionist." said Beryl, retying her apron.
"A contortionist?" Reaver asked, somewhat intrigued.
"I can bend my body into angles of sorts. It's really fun." Beryl bent backward all the way and poked her head from in between her knees. "I was called 'Lady Pretzel' and my act got a lot of attention." She continued as she bent down and held herself up with only her hands. Her legs over her head, Beryl happily walked to Reaver on her hands. Reaver stepped back a bit.
This would be arousing if it wasn't somewhat disturbing he thought as he backed his way into a table. "How…how do you do that?" he asked. In all his years, every woman he has ever been with or even known, he had never seen any girl bend her joints the way Beryl did.
Beryl slipped off her shoe and scratched her head with her big toe. "Years of practice." She answered simply as she untied her body from its knot. Beryl bowed as Willa clapped. "It gets easier after you almost break your spine a few times." She added, picking up a feather duster.
One eye twitching and fighting back the urge to pull out his gun, Reaver regained composure and straightened his shirt. "Well, that was…disturbing. Tell me, Beryl, can Willa really clean as fast as she claims she can?" he asked, finally.
Beryl nodded happily. "Oh yes, Mr. Reaver! She's fast, in general. In fact, in the time we've been standing here talking, she's rearranged your book shelves, cleared out the rugs, swept the floor, dusted the odd statue you have in the middle of the study, and set out a pipe for you."
Reaver turned around and saw the study immaculate. Reaver was understandably skeptical, even as he noticed a lit pipe in his hand. Everything was spotless, even under the statue he had in his study.
He looked over at her cleaning under a chair. "Oopsie, missed a spot!" she said, cheerfully. Reaver watched in amazement as Willa effortlessly picked up the chair by one of its short legs and swept up the dust before setting it back down.
"Willa's father was the strong man." said Rosie, as if almost appearing out of nowhere behind Reaver. "He was training her before our circus shut down."
Reaver's heart almost jumped out of his chest. "Wha…where did you come from?" he growled, holding his heart as if having a heart attack.
Rosie handed Reaver a piece of paper. "Miss Sarah wanted me to ask you what you would like for lunch out of the items listed on this menu you set for her." She asked, dryly. Reaver eyed the little menu over.
Suddenly losing his appetite, Reaver handed the menu back to Rosie. "Tell Miss Sarah I'll just have a garden salad, and have Barry bring it up to my office along with my tea."
Gordon
"Oh Reaver, Reaver, Reaver…" Reaver muttered to himself as he tapped his pen against some paperwork. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?" he asked himself, reclining in his chair. "And where the hell is my lunch?"
Looking out the window, the sight of the afternoon sun reflecting majestically off of Bower Lake was certainly a sight to behold. "Lovely. I can't believe I almost gave this up. No one can appreciate it like I can." He chuckled to himself. "The summer months will be coming up soon, I probably should be planning my…trip." He said softly as he looked around for a drink.
He heard a knock at his office door. "Enter!" he shouted.
Barry walked in, blushing cheerfully with a tray containing a covered dish and a tea set. "Lunchtime, Master Reaver!" he said, happily. Barry placed the tray down and uncovered the dish. "A garden salad, as you requested, Master. Made fresh by Miss Sarah." He said cheerfully. "She didn't know what kind of dressing you prefer, so she made some vinaigrette." He placed the plate in front of Reaver along with the tiny side bowl of dressing.
The salad was a colorful splash of greens and other veggies that made Reaver's mouth water. To him, salads had always been dull and usually only ate them when he couldn't figure out what he wanted to eat. But this salad was colorful and looked fresh. "My, my…Miss Sarah certainly outdid herself, didn't she?" said Reaver, as he poured the dressing over the leafy salad.
Barry blushed softly and held the tray close. "I watched her make the meal…she's certainly talented…"
Reaver watched Barry's hands shake as he attempted to pour the tea into the decorative cup. He spilled a few drops on the desk. Barry took out his handkerchief and cleaned up the spots. "Hatch, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were smitten with our dear Miss Sarah." Reaver teased, picking up the cup by its little handle.
Barry blushed and shook his head. "Oh no…no, no, no, Sir. I barely know her." He said as he took up the tray cover.
Chuckling softly, Reaver looked outside at the garden with a devilish smirk. "It certainly is a beautiful day, isn't it, Hatch? The birds are singing, the flowers are blooming, it's not too hot, and we have such a refreshing breeze coming in from the mountains. A lovely day for a stroll in the garden, wouldn't you say? In fact, is that Miss Sarah walking along the garden path?" he inquired.
Barry rushed over to the window and looked out, seeing only Gordon working on a hedge. Reaver laughed loudly as Barry turned back around. "I'll be back up in a half hour to get your dishes." Barry muttered as he left the room.
Eating his salad, Reaver watched Gordon work on the hedge from his office window. Finally, something normal he thought, as he watched Gordon work around some of the hedges. The hedge was taking shape. It was a swan. "He certainly knows his way around a pair of hedge clippers." He commented, as he nibbled on the salad.
Reaver watched as Gordon eyed the bush and cocked his head. Reaver liked Gordon's attention to detail and his patience with the hedge. Reaver put down his plate and opened the window. "I see you read my requests on your chore list." He shouted to Gordon, as he stepped back from the hedge.
Waving his hedge clippers, Gordon nodded appreciatively as he went back to eying the hedge. "I used to help the make-up artist at the circus style the performers' hair in between my acts. Odd, intricate shapes are child's play to me." He laughed, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"What was your profession in the circus?" asked Reaver, lustfully watching Gordon wiping sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.
"Well, I was an acrobat and trapeze artist, first and foremost." Gordon hopped onto the trellis with little effort in order to reach part of the swan hedge he was working on. "I don't like to toot my own horn…" Gordon started.
I'll toot it for you then… thought Reaver, as he watched.
"…but I was pretty good." He leaned over, only moving his ankles, as he snipped a few pieces here and there.
He then stood on one foot to reach another part. "There is a ladder in the garden shed. You could do this in a less…suicidal way, you know." shouted Reaver, leaning half-way out of his window.
"I could but…" Gordon grabbed hold of the nearby pergola and swung himself down, landing perfectly on his feet, arms in the air. "Not as much fun." Gordon picked up some gardening tools and started juggling. "You said it yourself: find your niche and go with it." He started walking while juggling the garden implements. "Those rose bushes have seen better days, better go check on them. Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Reaver. Don't fall out the window!"
Reaver didn't realize he was half-way out of the window, with Barry holding onto the back of his coat. Reaver wondered how long he had been holding onto him as Barry yanked his boss back inside. "I came back early to collect the tea." He said, lackluster, as Reaver straightened himself up. "Master Reaver, there are more dignified ways to kill yourself."
Miss Sarah
Evening finally rolled around, and the manor was once again spotless. Reaver was happy to see everything up and running again, despite the odd way in which it came to be. Five circus rejects did all this… he thought to himself, as he inspected every inch of the house. There were no more signs of the party gone badly from a few months again, or any evidence of Barry's cleaning style. With a satisfied smile, Reaver sniffed the air around the staircase.
He looked at his pocket watch and then to the grandfather clock nearby. "I didn't even notice the lateness of the hour. Miss Sarah sure is prompt." He muttered to himself, making his way to the study.
With their chores done, Rosie and Willa helped Miss Sarah prepare dinner. "Rosemary chicken with sautéed mushrooms and a side of potatoes and greens." She sang happily to herself as she seasoned the chicken breasts with thyme and lemon. Miss Sarah held the lemon in her hand and squeezed it softly. The next moment, it was gone. She giggled softly to herself.
Placing the chicken in the oven with the potatoes, Miss Sarah hurried to the sink and got out the fancy china and silverware she had been washing. "Here, Willa. Dry these and go set the dining room table. It will take a while for the chicken to cook, but I want everything to be ready when it is done." Willa nodded and hurried toward the staircase, holding the items.
"Rosie, have you finished washing the napkins?" asked Miss Sarah, as she began cutting green beans. Rosie nodded as the chopping sound of the knife became faster. "Alright, go help Willa set up Mr. Reaver's place at the table." Rosie nodded and went to find Willa.
As she chopped green beans and placed them in a bowl, Barry slowly walked into the kitchen. Miss Sarah looked up and smiled softly. "Oh, hello Mr. Hatch!" she said cheerfully, as she took the bowl to the sink to rinse out the green beans.
Barry smiled with a blush and walked over to her. "Master Reaver sent me in here to check on dinner. It smells delicious." He commented.
Miss Sarah swirled the beans around with her hand. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Hatch. Dinner should be ready in a little while. I still have to sauté the mushrooms and cook the green beans." Barry watched her hurry about the kitchen. "Did Mr. Reaver say what he would like to drink with dinner?" she asked, as she prepared the pan for the mushrooms.
"He'll probably just have wine, like always. You shouldn't worry too much, I'll just pick something out from the cellar." mentioned Barry, shrugging it off.
"Well, could you go ask him, just to make sure? I want to make a good impression. I want to serve this dinner with just the right wine to not only compliment the dish, but also to make him happy." Miss Sarah looked around for the mushrooms, but couldn't figure out where she placed them.
"If that salad this afternoon didn't impress him, that delicious chicken you're making certainly will." Barry bowed to Miss Sarah and left the kitchen. Miss Sarah waved to Barry as he left and then placed a bowl upside down. Snapping her fingers, she lifted the bowl and turned it right side up. Inside, where the mushrooms.
Barry strolled toward the study, where Reaver sat, reading the paper. He looked up at Barry and sighed. "Beryl brought me the paper…" he mentioned. Barry shrugged, not getting where Reaver was going with the statement. "She was also cleaning the inside of the piano, which is a two hand job. Do you know what she used to hand me this paper, Barry?"
Barry shook his head. "Her foot…" Reaver mumbled, going back to his article. "…from inside the piano."
Not sure how to respond, Barry just straightened out his coat and cleared his throat. "Well, in any case, Master Reaver, Miss Sarah said dinner should be ready in a little while. She has Willa and Rosie setting the table, and she sent me in here to find out what you wanted to drink with dinner." Barry twiddled his thumbs.
"Just pick any wine from the lot, considering all I've seen today, I'm not too picky at the moment." Reaver flipped a page in the newspaper as Barry bowed and started to leave.
Gordon, tray in hand and washed up from his day in the garden, walked past Barry as he was leaving the study. Standing next to Reaver, Gordon leaned down and handed Reaver a glass filled with scotch. "I'm a man that loves my scotch, Mr. Reaver, but isn't this stuff a little strong, considering supper is about ready?" Gordon inquired, placing the tray close to his side.
"After everything that's happened today, not strong enough. Go help the girls finish setting the table." mentioned Reaver, as he sipped the drink. Gordon shrugged and bowed, making his way out of the study.
Barry walked into the kitchen to see Miss Sarah doing the finishing touches on the side items. "Oh, Mr. Hatch, thank goodness you came when you did."
Barry blushed. No dirty thoughts, Hatch he kept thinking to himself.
"I need to get these side items up to the dining room, but Willa and Rosie are still setting the table and I have to keep an eye on the main course. Could you take them up there for me?" she asked, as she rushed back to the oven. "Watch out, they are very hot and heavy."
No dirty thoughts, Hatch he kept thinking to himself, as he picked up the tray.
Holding the hot, heavy tray steady, Barry did his own balancing act as he walked up the stairs. Sadly, his coordination was betraying him. He felt himself starting to trip over the top step. He landed on his stomach and hit his chin on the floor. He looked up, and panicked. He felt himself drop the tray, but there was no mess on the floor.
Gordon smiled down at Barry, holding two dishes in each hand, and one on the tip of his foot. "You alright, Mr. Hatch?" he asked, as he hopped over to the table. Placing the items down, and walked back over and helped Barry up.
Brushing himself off, Barry scowled at Gordon. "I'm on to you…" he said, as he walked backward toward the doorway. Beryl, who was helping Gordon place flowers on the table, cocked her eyebrow.
Taking the dish out of the oven, Miss Sarah smiled at her handy work. "Lovely." She whispered to herself and she placed the pan on the table. The steamy chicken was surrounded by potatoes and the lemon zest could only be hinted at in the smell. The smell quickly made its way through the home, which caught Reaver's attention as he made his way to the dining hall.
When he approached the table, his eyes widened at the sight. The candles were lit, fresh cut flowers adorned the table, and his plate and silverware were placed correctly out in front of his place at the end of the table.
At his chair, his servants (save for Miss Sarah) stood, waiting for him. "My, my…what is all this?" asked Reaver, as he made his way to the end of the table.
"First impressions last forever." said Rosie, Willa, and Beryl, as they bowed before their boss. Gordon pulled out Reaver's chair and dusted it off for him. Beryl laid a clean white napkin down by the silverware as Reaver sat down to Rosie pouring him some wine into the cleanest wine glass he had ever seen. She placed the wine bottle off to the side as Willa announced Miss Sarah's arrival with dinner.
Reaver looked up as the servants stepped back. Miss Sarah brought in the main course. "I hope you're hungry, Mr. Reaver." She said, with her sunniest smile.
Placing the tray down, she unveiled the dish. It was empty. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" yelled Reaver.
Miss Sarah, embarrassed, rubbed her hands together and clapped. In a poof of smoke, the main course appeared. "Tonight's dinner is rosemary chicken with sautéed mushrooms and a side of green beans, Sir. The chicken is fresh from the farm down the road, as well as the green beans and potatoes." She said as she bowed. Barry walked over and started making Reaver's plate.
"Let me guess…magician, Miss Sarah?" asked Reaver.
"Magician's assistant." She corrected with a bow. Reaver started to say something, but decided, with everything he had seen today, to just let it go.
"Well, it seems my misconceptions were unwarranted. You all did a wonderful job today. A bit uncouth for my tastes, but you got your jobs done with no complaints and you got them done right. I think this is the start of a wonderful work related relationship. Now, off with you!" smiled Reaver, as the plate was set before him.
The servants left Reaver and Barry (who always ate with Reaver) to their meal and went to the kitchen. "Well, Master Reaver, what do you think?" said Barry, breaking the silence.
Reaver sipped his wine and cut into his chicken. "I am a gentleman, first and foremost, and I can admit when I am wrong." Reaver popped a piece into his mouth and smiled.
"Well?" asked Barry.
"I can…I just won't."
In his office, later that night, Reaver wrote in his journal as Barry tidied up. "I'm about to head off to bed, Master Reaver. Do you need anything before I do?" he asked, placing the feather duster down.
Reaver shook his head and smiled to Barry as he shooed him off. "No, that will be all, Barry. I'll see you in the morning."
As Barry bowed and left the office, Reaver refilled his pen from the inkwell and began the next part of his journal entry.
"Today marked the first day for my new employees, the circus rejects from the previous passage. I must say, I am actually impressed by their work and I might have actually been wrong about them. But, as I told them, if they can last a month here, then I'll be sincerely impressed. Only the strong last more than a month here. Some quit, some disappear, some get mauled by balverines…not naming any names, of course.
Barry has been here for years, and even though I had to revive him a few times, he's holding up well. His little crush on my new cook, Miss Sarah, is actually kind of cute. Though, we'll see who gets her first."
Closing his journal with a self-satisfying grin, Reaver turned off his desk lamp and left the room. "First impressions…" he laughed to himself. "I hope today didn't give them the wrong impression about working here." He muttered to himself as he left the office and walked to his bedroom.
"Today was easy…let's just see what tomorrow brings."
N'cha again, everyone! Luna Peachie here again! Now that introductions are out of the way, the insanity can begin! If they think it's easy working for Reaver, they have another thing coming. Of course, this day was tame compared to what my screwed up imagination has in store! By the way, someone familiar will be in the next installment. Not saying who!
Interesting fact: I actually I got the idea for this fan-fic by watching Azumanga Daioh! "But Luna Peachie" you may ask, "How did a great anime such as Azumanga Daioh inspire you to write this insanity?" Well, good question. The slice of life format of Azumanga Daioh is amazing, and I noticed a lot of fan-fics lacked that. Granted, slice of life doesn't work with everything, but I'm trying my best.
I would like to take a moment to thank two people who gave me my first reviews. xGoodMourningx and Gwynedde. Thank you for the lovely reviews.
You know the drill.
1: Reaver and Barry are owned by Lionhead
2: Please enjoy and review