Post by Kuruuri on Dec 3, 2006 21:11:57 GMT -5
{{You'll get the title later. 
It's a Harvest Moon: MORE Friends of Mineral Town Story, okay?}}
I just have to warn you, there are many stories out there, and you need to be sure mine is the one for you. There will be hardships, bravery, and most importantly of all...is love. As we all know, a story typically starts off with a main character whom is going through some sort of change, or dilemma, and this story is no exception.
We start off with Amy Lindall, a common civilian. Amy's life is not one of that which could be thoroughly described, for she does merely the same thing every day. She wakes up, goes to work, and comes back home barely even at a suitable hour. There truly was nothing that could be named about her that was interesting. However, she did have one unique talent.
Baking.
That was it: baking. On her rare weekends off, Amy would look for a new recipe of any kind to attempt to make and add to her long list of hand-written desserts, or breads. It wasn't necessarily a talent. It was more of a knack, or a kind of intuition. She never really had to work that hard to come up with something good. Truthfully, the good things always came to her. Including that one day at the local café that Amy decided to buy the newspaper, which she never did. Perhaps it was the new scarf she had bought because of the chilly air that she had seen in an ad that caused her to read through the daily advertisements, and come across that one tiny ink-printed box of letters. Really, it was the most least enticing of them all. But you see, Amy liked to include everything and everyone in nearly everything she did. That was the other quality that made her stick out from the rest of the world.
This advertisement was just the same as the other ones. Something bribing individuals to purchase something that normally would be of little use in the future, once it is past its warrant or something entirely different from what the employers claim. The only thing about this particular ad was what its words stated.
'Looking for your own store? Need the extra space?
Call XXX-XXXX now!'
Amy attempted to picture herself in her own bakery, the sweet smell of crescent rolls fresh out of the oven filling her nostrils. She would have so much space, and probably much more free time than she was being assigned. The one thing for sure was that she would actually have true friends. Ones that she could depend on, unlike her co-workers who only get along with her for the sake of their working status. She would be able to relax and do whatever she felt like at the time.
Amy quickly dialed the number, jabbing one of the numbers with such ferocity that a small red spot blemished her fingertip. As she got the operator, her heart sped up several paces, each beat an abnormally close distance from the other. As the line clicked, that signaled Amy that the operator had picked up, so she cleared her throat nervously.
"Hello, this is MT Realtor. How may I help you?" A female voice sounded from Amy's compact-sized Nokia cell phone.
"Yes, I was calling about the building that was available for purchase?" Amy asked, unable to wait to hear what the woman would say.
"Ah yes, you are the first person to have called about it. That will be around 100,000G if you would like to own it. The building is an old-styled shop with a second floor with an unusual amount of floor and storage space. How does that sound?"
"That's..." Amy was now at a fault. The amount of money would definitely not coincide well with her current budget. If she would have to pay that much, surely it would only be over a set amount of time. The young woman let her shoulders fall as she sighed an unusually melancholy sigh, one that wasn't typical of a girl with her kind of personality. Taking another breath, Amy asked the woman, "When can I pay, and how long will it take to get there?"
| ~ |
Amy slowed the moving van that she had rented to a stop in front of the address she held in her hand. She had carelessly scribbled it onto a piece of her spare copy paper she would use to type up her reports for her company, and folded it into a small square, placing it in her jeans' pocket. Her mouth hung slightly agape at the sight of the seemingly worn down building. It was nothing like the pictures had shown that the company had sent her. She had undoubtedly been cheated for money by the greedy pigs that ruled the country. Groaning quite audibly, Amy wasn't expecting a certain young man named Grey Johnson to be strolling by on his way to the blacksmith shop to notice her plain self, her hair in a messy bun and wearing merely plain, low-rise jeans and a pastel yellow boyfriend tanktop. He seemed a bit hesitant to walk over, but he managed to convince himself that you looked friendly enough. However, you had failed to notice him, for you were now trying to carry your large boxes into your shabby-looking home.
{{I hope that was good! I seriously just typed this, so I'll write more and post it. That is, if you all like it. ^_^}}
It's a Harvest Moon: MORE Friends of Mineral Town Story, okay?}}I just have to warn you, there are many stories out there, and you need to be sure mine is the one for you. There will be hardships, bravery, and most importantly of all...is love. As we all know, a story typically starts off with a main character whom is going through some sort of change, or dilemma, and this story is no exception.
We start off with Amy Lindall, a common civilian. Amy's life is not one of that which could be thoroughly described, for she does merely the same thing every day. She wakes up, goes to work, and comes back home barely even at a suitable hour. There truly was nothing that could be named about her that was interesting. However, she did have one unique talent.
Baking.
That was it: baking. On her rare weekends off, Amy would look for a new recipe of any kind to attempt to make and add to her long list of hand-written desserts, or breads. It wasn't necessarily a talent. It was more of a knack, or a kind of intuition. She never really had to work that hard to come up with something good. Truthfully, the good things always came to her. Including that one day at the local café that Amy decided to buy the newspaper, which she never did. Perhaps it was the new scarf she had bought because of the chilly air that she had seen in an ad that caused her to read through the daily advertisements, and come across that one tiny ink-printed box of letters. Really, it was the most least enticing of them all. But you see, Amy liked to include everything and everyone in nearly everything she did. That was the other quality that made her stick out from the rest of the world.
This advertisement was just the same as the other ones. Something bribing individuals to purchase something that normally would be of little use in the future, once it is past its warrant or something entirely different from what the employers claim. The only thing about this particular ad was what its words stated.
'Looking for your own store? Need the extra space?
Call XXX-XXXX now!'
Amy attempted to picture herself in her own bakery, the sweet smell of crescent rolls fresh out of the oven filling her nostrils. She would have so much space, and probably much more free time than she was being assigned. The one thing for sure was that she would actually have true friends. Ones that she could depend on, unlike her co-workers who only get along with her for the sake of their working status. She would be able to relax and do whatever she felt like at the time.
Amy quickly dialed the number, jabbing one of the numbers with such ferocity that a small red spot blemished her fingertip. As she got the operator, her heart sped up several paces, each beat an abnormally close distance from the other. As the line clicked, that signaled Amy that the operator had picked up, so she cleared her throat nervously.
"Hello, this is MT Realtor. How may I help you?" A female voice sounded from Amy's compact-sized Nokia cell phone.
"Yes, I was calling about the building that was available for purchase?" Amy asked, unable to wait to hear what the woman would say.
"Ah yes, you are the first person to have called about it. That will be around 100,000G if you would like to own it. The building is an old-styled shop with a second floor with an unusual amount of floor and storage space. How does that sound?"
"That's..." Amy was now at a fault. The amount of money would definitely not coincide well with her current budget. If she would have to pay that much, surely it would only be over a set amount of time. The young woman let her shoulders fall as she sighed an unusually melancholy sigh, one that wasn't typical of a girl with her kind of personality. Taking another breath, Amy asked the woman, "When can I pay, and how long will it take to get there?"
| ~ |
Amy slowed the moving van that she had rented to a stop in front of the address she held in her hand. She had carelessly scribbled it onto a piece of her spare copy paper she would use to type up her reports for her company, and folded it into a small square, placing it in her jeans' pocket. Her mouth hung slightly agape at the sight of the seemingly worn down building. It was nothing like the pictures had shown that the company had sent her. She had undoubtedly been cheated for money by the greedy pigs that ruled the country. Groaning quite audibly, Amy wasn't expecting a certain young man named Grey Johnson to be strolling by on his way to the blacksmith shop to notice her plain self, her hair in a messy bun and wearing merely plain, low-rise jeans and a pastel yellow boyfriend tanktop. He seemed a bit hesitant to walk over, but he managed to convince himself that you looked friendly enough. However, you had failed to notice him, for you were now trying to carry your large boxes into your shabby-looking home.
{{I hope that was good! I seriously just typed this, so I'll write more and post it. That is, if you all like it. ^_^}}
