Welcome to Gaia! ::

Yer Name: Flamefire123 (or just Flame)
NPC character name: Sesen Rokure
NPC character appearance: A thin rat like man would be the simplest description. He has black hair that he wears a little long so he has to pull it back into a ‘rattail’. His face is long and slightly pale, as if he doesn’t get into the sun much. His long and overly thin body is often clad in hand-me down clothes; jeans with a hole in them, shirts that can’t seem to loose that musty smell, shoes that look older then he does. His age is hard to guess, while he is clearly young something about his beady dark blue eyes makes him seem older. His face his skinny, and long making his eyes seem too small for his face. His nose is sharp dive to his sharp little chin and his lips are kind of thin. He has long little fingers attached to big hands that are attached to too long arms. Which luckily match his too long legs, like his body never quite got over the gangly stage in life. Overall he seems very uncomfortable in his own skin.
NPC character demeanor: When Sesen was in college he had hoped to be a famous novelist in the next few years. So much that his major in creative writing didn’t prepare him for being much else. So he got out of college, got a job at as a bookstore clerk and started to write. Ten years latter he was approaching 35 (which is only a few short jumps to 40), hasn’t sold a single story and was desperately close to loosing his job and his apartment. His social life was nothing as he dedicated every spare moment he had to writing, but nothing ever came from it. He spent long hours locked up in his studio, staring at his computer, typing as fast as he could, trying to get that great novel out of it. He needed just one, just one and he was sure he could hit it big. Just one…

Due to his obsession with getting his stories published Sesen is a very twitchy man who’s not so good at dealing with people. Mostly because he likes to watch people, and closely; he could stare at someone for a few minutes, then be able to write that person out well pretty expertly. He’s been doing it for years. But people don’t like to be watched and they grow uncomfortable around him. Because of that he is uncomfortable right back, and isn’t so well with talking to people. Most of his contacts are over the internet. He’s wonderful over paper, there he can edit himself, and though his few shots at online romance always ended in failure he finds he can have an active social life there. Sadly with his current money problem he lost his internet and his friends. So Sesen is alone, desperate and still typing furiously to try and get that one novel out.
How your character gets involved in this: ((I don’t feel comfortable controlling other people’s characters honestly so this will not be RPed out))
Sesen first ran into the small family in a grocery store and as a writer searching out for the next big story sometimes random people interest him. Its times like this were another of his weird traits besides the staring comes in. The stalking come out; yes Sesen will stalk random people he finds interesting. But unlike your usual stalker he will never approach you, oh no, he just watches, and is interested. But this family was different, he followed them to their little give away shop, and learned (from eavesdropping) of the matchsticks. The idea of a simple piece of wood being able to grant one wish was amazing to him, simply amazing. It gave him a story idea, but it also gave him desire. That night he went home and he wrote, and he wrote, and he wrote. It was two weeks before he finished his first draft. A month before he was done revising as well as he could on his own, and then he sent it to the publisher. Surely this had to work, it was the best story he had ever written, but when he got a response back a big, fat NO was his manuscript. Depressed, he went drinking till the bars kicked him out. Now depressed and drunk he wandered the streets, thought seriously about suicide for a long moment then found himself outside of Freya and Dominus’s home. His alcohol fuzzed brain remembered the matchsticks and he got the idea in his head to steal one. Looking around he found a rock and threw it into a window. He then climbed in, fell down, hit his head and was out. Not a very scary burglar at all. When he awoke he was surprised to find he wasn’t in jail, instead he head an ice bag on his head and someone willing to care for him. Then he had the fun task of explaining to an annoyed husband and father why he broke into his home. Sheepish and apologetic Sesen explained. He then apologized for breaking the window and scaring them all. He would offer to pay for the window but he didn’t have any money. So they offered him a deal. He would help seek those worthy of a matchstick, and in return they forget about the window (and calling the police). And maybe someday earn one of his own. He readily agreed, also offered baby sitting services if they ever needed it.
RP sample: ((this is going to be from an actual breedable RP))
"Why are we even going to the stupid park?" Reiha complained, even though Korbin was already flying high in the air. Reiha just had wanted to stay home. She managed to find this really cool book and she wanted to read it. But Adian been acting really weird lately. Like...talking to her, and keeps on asking her if she is 'okay'. What was the big deal? She just wanted to be left alone.

"Because you stay in your room all day. Aren't you sick of those four walls? I can barely stay inside for a few hours. Of course normally I like to go to a bar or something" Adian mentioned, and noticed how Reiha cringed slightly. He noticed that she cringed when ever alcohol was mentioned. Adian wondered about that.

He looked up and saw a little boy running around, "Look a friend" he said, pushing Reiha forward.

Reiha pulled back when she saw the boy. She didn't want any stupid friends.
Why YOU wanna be a slave staff member: Because A the idea is awesome. B I want more gold for Gaia stuff and C I really enjoyed the character I created for this. Also I loved the story Matchstick Girl (as sad as it was in the end) and I really like the idea you twisted from it.
How YA want to be paid(And do you think Mel's 5-10k thing is fair? Each month? Each event?:/ ) Hell yeah 5-10k is great for me! Each month preferably. Maybe with a little extra gold if I help with an event.
How often are you alive on Gaia?: Daily; several hours each day
Are you a slave Work in other shops? (Post links): I work as a co-owner at Ruesaiah. That’s it right now but I’m seeking other employment (like here) and maybe I’ll add more or at least post if I get more employment.
Are you crazy?(Random thing. xD Post anything ya want): Well some might view me that way>>I got to an art school so I know there are a lot weirder people then me but I also am an emotional female with characters running around in my head. So...that counts as something.
Is Mel crazy?(Another random one. xD): Ahhh, well lets talk and see
Any ideas for the shop?(Like why they have powers, familiars, yadda): Well ideas, let’s see. Oh the girl should play a role in the growing, the one from the story. I think she should show up when your child is about to come from the tree, or maybe at every stage. Also for metaplot issues we need a villain. Someone who wants the matchsticks (and the children born from them) to try and fulfill his own twisted fantasy. Not my best idea but if we discuss it I know I can come up with better. Also I can get my character more involved, and then I tend to get more ideas.

Yer Name: Xennik Droid
NPC character name: Xennik Tay Ahamni
NPC character appearance: Xennik is rather disarmingly handsome, perhaps the only reason he has gotten on so well in his life. He's caucasion hispanic, with tanned skin, blue eyes, and black hair. He tends to spoil himself with fancy clothing and definetly looks like the magician he is. His usual outfits consist of fancy slacks, high boots, and musketeer-styled shirts. He almost always wears a gray-black hat with an enormous Roc's feather flouncing from its brim. It changes color to match his mood. He is never without a black choker with a large red stone on it.
NPC character demeanor: Xennik was raised in poverty, and was the first in his family to make something of himself. As such, he finds nothing wrong with spoiling himself and flaunting his wealth such as living in a large condo and dressing rather richly. But when it comes right down to it, he's a sweetheart...and a tad blond. He's extremely patient, and apparently brilliant, but his genius is a lot like lightning, it comes in random flashes of brilliance and insight and disappears just as quickly. He could recite the anatomy of a gryphon, for example, and then accidentally trip over someone's foot the next moment. Luckily, his sweet charm and good looks (and magic) get him out of everything. Unfortunately, he's quite the workaholic and therefore has no lovelife (plus he's too dense to know when anyone's hitting on him).
How your character gets involved in this: Xennik works as a researcher of magical properties and phenomena. As in, he gets sent out to check up on all the strange adoption centers that keep popping up all over the place. He could be involved only because he's there to research for the people he works for, or he could have been hired by Freya and Dominous to keep track of the kids, give them check-ups, and see how safe they are in this world.
RP sample:

"There's something about those children." Mr. Damian grumped, stroking his long gray whiskers. Xennik glanced up from his seldom-used desk and the book he was pouring over, and smiled wryly.

"You say that about everything." He reminded the temperamental man.

"Well it gives me the chills!" His boss scowled. "Children, human children, appearing out of fruit! And from what? Planted matches! Is that not utterly mad?!"

"Not really," Xennik said calmly, "With natural birthing becoming rare, it only makes sense for souls to have to get creative coming to Gaia."

Mr. Damien frowned disapprovingly, but thought on this. "Well, yes, I suppose. You're brilliant, Xennik."

Xennik smiled patiently, used to these sorts of compliments. Everyone seemed to take him as a prodigy of some sort, and seemed to believe that he therefore needed constant praise to keep going. He could handle himself perfectly fine without it, in fact enough was enough, which was why he usually did his paperwork from home.

"Which is why I'm sending you to check it out."

Xennik had just returned to his book about the anatomical make-up of flying pandas when Mr. Damien dropped the bomb. His head snapped up. Now this Xennik hadn't been expecting. "Wha-what?" He spluttered. He wasn't supposed to be given anymore assignments. He was still under desk-arrest for accidentally blowing up the Aged'elair building. Of course, they hadn't believed him when he'd said he was trying to save that girl's life. He still had a month to go doing pure desk-work.

"Yes, you're the only one I can trust. I'm sending you ot there as an agent. Find out everything you can about these...children, and report everything immediately to me. I want full reports, charts, everything! If anyone can rid me of this feeling of dread, it will be you. Now hop to it!"

Xennik was still dazed. This was a heavy-duty job he was being gifted with. He stood, shakily, setting his book aside. Even in this situation, his neat-freak nature was not to be smothered. The book was nicely stored where it belonged, and carefully book-marked even as he struggled to grasp that he was now no longer under desk-arrest.

"Well?" Thundered the ever-vocal Mr. Damien. "Go on, before I change my mind!"

With this Xennik jumped, pulled on his coat, and snatched his hat. The large feather atop it immediatley faded into an excited red as he made his exit.

Why YOU wanna be a slave staff member: It sounds like an interesting idea, and it would be nice to put some of my writing skills to use. <3
How YA want to be paid(And do you think Mel's 5-10k thing is fair? Each month? Each event?:/ ) 5-10k a month seems very fair, maybe a bonus for roleplaying events that would require more work and time on our part.
How often are you alive on Gaia?: At least once a day everyday unless otherwise noted. (for camps, vacations, testing weeks, etc.)
Are you a slave Work in other shops? (Post links): Yep. ^^ I currently work as shop manager at a shop called ElderSpark.
Are you crazy?(Random thing. xD Post anything ya want): Um...maybe a little. But I'm mostly sane. =)
Is Mel crazy?(Another random one. xD): I dunno?
Any ideas for the shop?(Like why they have powers, familiars, yadda): If you want familiars to be a major part of the story, why not have it so that the children's powers can't be controlled unless they have a familiar, or familiars can enhance their magic abilities. The children themselves could have limited powers that are designed to help their parents do something. Like, maybe a girl with healing powers is sent to a father who's crippled. She has to figure out what her powers are, and then heal him, and then she can grow further or something.

Lookie me, I read the front page! xD
Anyway... I hope this is okay. ><

Yer Name: username: Ginger.Duckie, call me Jeshi
NPC character name: Adel Spice
NPC character appearance: Adel has short, dirty blond hair. She's got large brown eyes, and tan skin. The overall appearance is like a surfer dude, expect female. Adel is tall for her age, something she has always dreaded, since she towers over her friends. She looks about 14 or so, a fresh teenager. Adel’s clothing tends to be, as some describe it, ‘grunge’. Oversized clothes, mis-matching, always was some type of arm-warmers, usually a hat, all that good stuff.
NPC character demeanor: Adel grew up with a possibly terminal disease. It caused her to have to go to the hospital again, again, aaaand again, and yet again, four times a week. She was always really annoyed with it. People said she shouldn't be, that it could be saving her life! But Adel didn't care, said she wasn't worried about it. Somehow, Adel felt like she just wouldn't die. Adel's worry began, though, when the disease just got worse and worse. When Adel was 10, she began to collapse almost every week.
When Adel turned 12, they finally issued her to be at the hospital 24/7. After nine months, Adel was in almost perfect health, and finally allowed to go home. She’s currently a little sick, but Adel is too active to be pulled down by some disease.
Her medical needs effected everything in Adel’s life. When she stayed in the hospital for nine months, her family couldn’t afford the bill and left her, running away. After that, Adel lived by herself in her parents house. It was only a few months after that until she got involved with the matchsticks, so legal issues were still being argued, and the orphanage didn’t take her yet.
How your character gets involved in this: ((I shall be doing this as a story, not even basing it like an RP where I can control people. Sorry if I got Freya's personality wrong... Which I probably did. >3>; ))

It was rough, bumpy, gray and bleak. The painful texture reminded Adel of what her life had been like recently. She groaned, not at the short but sharp stings on her back, but at the memory of the hospital, as she slumped down against the wall. Even though the day had barely begun to unfold, the sun still peaking, Adel could just tell it was going to be a bothersome day. Especially since she had to wait for an hour in the cold until school started, just leaning against one of it's dull walls.

"Excuse me…” A gentle voice pardoned itself. The kind sound robbed Adel’s attention and she glanced up instantly. There she found a sweet looking woman, who’s unknown name was Freya. “Would you be interested in buying matchbox?”

Adel blinked rapidly in a confused type of surprise. Matchbox? Sure, it was cold out, maybe there was some snow flurries now and then, but why would Adel need a matchstick? Not to mention, it was on school grounds! But the woman looked sincere, and was smiling with a sugary tint of devil in her eyes.

“Well?” Freya asked, voice as kind as ever. She was leaning down so her face matched Adel’s. Adel stumbled.

“Well…uh…” She tried to race herself, debating whether to accept or not. “Uh, sure, hit me.” Adel finally ordered. She decided that she could spend a few bucks and make a women happy. After all, to roam a school in cold temperatures, she must be desperate for a sale…

Freya leaned in closer and studied Adel’s face, making her nervous, very nervous. Some people thought Adel’s filthy-looking hair, or rough, tan skin, even in winter, or grunge clothing, or slang talk…Well, let’s just say they tended to stare a bit. Some people respected her for it, but an equal amount gave her weird looks. Adel have never gotten use to it. And when she collapsed in public, even more people would stare, sometimes mobs would form…

“D-did I…” Adel mumbled, but her voice wasn’t there. She needed to break it through if she was going to talk, and hadn’t done that yet. It was a problem with her throat in this small flu she had recently caught.

Freya smiled, with probably 110 grams of sugar. “No, nothing at all sweetie.” The voice was Freya’s, but she seemed to mouth it, rather than speak. She held up a box of matches for Adel, and asked, “But are you sure?” Freya’s eyes seem to be glittering, still racing all over Adel, studying.

This time Adel coughed lightly before speaking, so her voice would work. “Y-yeah, ‘course. How much?” She questioned, reaching for the brown leather wallet in her pocket. Even as Adel’s hands moved, they moved blindly for her eyes didn’t leave Freya’s lock.

Freya’s head jerked to her left, as if hearing someone call her name. She talked in a soft voice, though, seeming to be directed at Adel as she set the matches down and began to walk away, as if coming to a calling, not looking back…“Oh, nothing at all…”

It was about a week before Adel decided to use the matchstick, when she was going to have some kettle corn, watch a movie and enjoy a hot fire. The second she casually struck the match, no longer dazed by the strange seller, Adel knew something weird was still up.

The flame didn’t light. She tried a couple more times. Nothing. Adel glanced up to grab it’s box, see if there were any special directions. But the box wasn’t there. Nor was the brown counter. Nor was any part of Adel’s lonesome home. But there was an Adel. A happy, healthy Adel. She was proudly carrying something, it was a medal. All the watching Adel could see was a shining gold attached to some strings, strung across the beaming Adel’s neck. Adel, both Adels, and all Adels that would ever exist, always loved sports. But because of her condition, Adel was rarely allowed to play. Eventually, everyone got better than her. And… Eventually… Adel had to give sports up.

She cried.

As soon as the image faded, Adel readied herself for the frost and ran out to find the person she bought the matchbox from. Adel wanted answers – she wanted… She wanted her little fantasy to become as real as possible. While Adel ran through falling snow, fox-furred boots sliding on fresh white powder, she ran as fast as she could. Adel hadn’t done that in… In… In years. It felt like flying.

Adel got lucky, and saw Freya after running only a mile or so. She called out to her, “Yo!” She screamed. When Freya persisted in asking someone to buy a matchbox and seemingly didn’t hear Adel, she called again, nearing Freya. “Yo! You!” She cried, beginning to slow down to a walk.

“Me?” Freya asked, turning slowly to Adel. She recognized her very quickly. “Oh-you! You bought a matchbox…” Freya’s voice died down.

Adel was panting, lungs throbbing, but she had to ask Freya questions. Questions about everything. About her fantasy. About her future. About the matchboxes and their fire. The fire that her matches produced… It was warmer than any other fire she had ever felt. It was her dream.

“…Huh.” Adel had her hands, gloved in black biking hand gloves, supporting her slumped head. The head supported an awed expression. Most the time Adel would say something like, “Pswsha, yeah right.” But after seeing the daydream she had with the matchboxes, Freya’s explanation seemed…Reasonable.

Freya nodded slowly. “Yes… It’s all true…” She mumbled.

Adel looked away, at the comforting gold walls, at the hanging pictures of sweet pink roses… “’Kay, gotcha.” She agreed, still not looking at Freya. “I believe ya.”

Freya seemed a little relieved. “So…Go and plant your matchstick-“

Adel looked at Freya. She took in a curt breath, sharp and fast, closing her eyes as she did so. Subsequently she flashed her eyes open and summed all of her courage together.

“May I help you?”

To summarize the story, and conclude it, Adel bought a matchstick from Freya. Amazed by the power, she sought Freya out. Since her family had been lost when Adel stayed in the hospital for ¾ of a year, and she didn’t have much else to do or anyway to be with, Adel offered to work under Freya. Freya agreed, and gave her the job. Now Adel works in selling the magical matches, which helped Adel find a piece of joy. A very warm piece of joy.

RP sample: ((there is the how-Adel-got-involved, but… here’s another. It’s actually a story concerning Adel… It’s a slightly different version of her, with no medical problems and an altered appearance. I hope it’s okay.))

Adel yawned, stretching her arms. “Kinda…” Adel hollered back to her mother, talking through her door. The teenager squeezed her pillow one last time for the soft texture and light hug. Then Adel hopped from her bed, not giving herself the chance to miss it’s warmth.

“What do you mean, ‘kinda’?! It’s either you’re up or you aren’t!” Adel’s mother snapped back. Adel didn’t reply. She was up now, but a few seconds ago, the girl had gotten the wonderful luxury of being asleep, so she didn’t know how to answer. In past years Adel hated sleeping, thought of it as a waste of time. But ever since she entered Jr. High and had been busy all the time and getting fewer and fewer hours of sleep, the girl longed for rest. She had slept in this morning, apparently getting dreamed rest. Adel was a pro at being fully awake the second her eyes opened, but it would take a few minutes to get ready for school on this dreary Tuesday.

Adel began to take off her fuzzy pajama shirt, the first step in preparation for another boring day. When her piano fingers, as the elegant hands were often called, grabbed onto the fluffy, lime-colored materiel they didn’t want to let go, but Adel made them, tearing off her warm shirt. It left her feeling bare and cold. Adel loved fresh air and so she always kept her window open, but it made her room’s air frozen and thus caused suffering.

“Adela Spice, answer me!” Adel’s mother yelled. Adel glanced at her white door, plastered in all of the positive stickers she had collected over the years, from things like A+ tests or perfect concerts. She always had to talk to people in the hall through her door, since she didn’t like leaving her bedroom open. The messy space was hers, not others.

“Sorry, mom, I’m up.” Adel called, not wanting to annoy her mother in a morning. “Just gimme a few, okay?” The sleepy Adel scrambled to salvaging clothing from the floor, selecting a short-sleeved top for her top. It was made out of annoyingly rough cloth and was a dull shade of blue, but it did have some calligraphy splatters in white on the front, so it was a cool shirt.

“Ugh…” Adel heard her mother moan. She didn’t know if the mother minded her daughter hearing, wanted her to, or was trying to be secretive, but Adel always heard her family talk trash about her behind her. She got a lot of praise, but equal cusses. Adel didn’t care, though. She just did what she did and if people liked it, sweet, that’s rad, if not, aw, that sucks, tough luck.

“Sorry, I’ll be up soon; just wait a bit, righty?” Adel yelled again, hoping to calm her mother. She heard footsteps going up, so she assumed that her plead had succeeded. Only pausing a few seconds to listen, Adel returned to her preparation.

Adel had slept in jeans, and the dark denim looked fine, smelt fine and was perfectly suitable for public, and would be shown in public. Adel quickly buttoned it, denting her thumb from the effort. While she gave the opposable finger a quick sucking, she ran over to her small, simple mirror and checked on her hair.

The brown hair was looking fine. A little frizzy, but with time and a dash of luck, it’d calm down. Adel still decided to brush through it once or twice and grabbed her comb. The comb was old, it’s purple plastic torn, but it did the job. Adel tore it through her shoulder-length locks before snatching a lime ponytail holder, and scooping most of her hair into one. Her hair’s texture was oddly silky, and a little greasy – recalling back, Adel hadn’t shampooed it last night. Adel left some of the thick strains out just before her ears for a ‘stylish’ appeal, and just for fun.

“Adel?” A voice called down – Adel’s brother. He was more of a morning person than their mother, and didn’t seem as angry, but still not that patient.

“One sec!” Adel promised. She darted out into the halls and rushed into the bathroom, where she glanced at herself in the full-body mirror. Well, maybe it wasn’t full-body to some adults, but Adel was a 5 foot 3, so it worked just fine for her.

Ankle-high, orange-and-creamy, thick socks… Casual jeans with dark navy coloring, four pockets, two back two front, black leather belt strung on her hips, zipped and buttoned… Semi-light blue shirt with white dashes in abstract style on cover…

“Adel!” Mother this time. And annoyed.

Brown hair, leaning on a dark shade, in ponytail with a lock just before ears on both sides… Blue eyes looking sharp, and the bags below the eyes were somewhat reduced, some maybe some people wouldn’t noticed, if she was lucky…

“A.K.A., set.” Adel said with a smile, ending her personal check-over. Adel didn’t really care about appearance; or at least, that’s what she had always said. Recently dressing up at been fun. However, trying to not become a snobby, brattly, very jerk-ish girly girly, Adel’s check over was to make she was suitable for public, not pretty. The self-consciousness had begun to strike this year, suddenly forcing her to start washing her sloppy jackets and clean the dirty sweatshirts.

The teen began to run up the stairs, pounding her feet so her family knew she was coming. The second she was up she dove past her brother, grabbing her purple back-pack (with white stairs on the side) and slinging it over her shoulder. “Sorry guys, let’s go!” Adel rushed.

“We’re going to be late for being early.” Adel’s brother chuckled at her speedy rush. He was two and a half years older than Adel, and in High School. He was a newbie there, and a lot of seniors like to tease him. Still, the guy managed to remain cheerful.

“For your school,” Adel smiled at her brother, “But Jackie dearest, at mah school, I’m only eight minutes early!”

“Sir Jack will do,” her brother scoffed playfully, “No need for the ‘ie’.”

“Come on you clowns, let’s go. I won’t be early for work!” Their part-time saleswomen mother urged. Her children nodded, and then the trio headed to the carport.

“Pretty good though, Adel, getting ready for school in 6 minutes.” Jack admitted once they were all in the car and driving.

Adel wrinkled her nose lightly at the weak gas smell. She had sensitive sense, and her blessed little nose could sniff out even small disturbances. Adel ignored it, though. She patted the black leather with both her hands at the same time in pride and beamed, “Yup! – Heya wait, you timed me?” The little sister was surprised, looking at her brother for confirmation.

((there is more but I think that's good... heh.))

Why YOU wanna be a slave staff member: I think the idea for the shop is really unique and it sounds very fun. I also love writing and RPing, and it’d be such a joy to get to do what I love and earn some gold from it. Also, Adel is a character I like to use for writing warm-ups when I’m taking on a big task, etc., and it’d be fun to develop her a bit through this. I enjoy using her, and really hope I could get to use her with such a wonderful shop.
How YA want to be paid: I think the 5-10k deal sounds great. Perhaps the final number (6k, 9k, etc.) should be determined by how active we (the RP managers) are, rather than setting one before the shop opens? It can be hard to write a lot without auto-controlling, so how many lines we write may be not such a accurate way to determine how hard we work at our job, since it’d be more like how interactive we are. But since I got a bit side-tracked, the 5-10k sounds good. I think getting the sum everything month would be best, since events may vary. Though the varying may even out the payment over time, I’d prefer the solid month payment.
How often are you alive active on Gaia?: Pretty much everyday, for an hour or so. Sometimes I’m on for 6 hours, and sometimes for ½ an hour. It just depends how much I have to do on gaia. With the shop I’d be more active, since I, squeal, have some RPin’ to do! Seriously, it’s so hard to find good RPs these days… -ahem- So anyway, usually everyday, and the amount of time varies. There are some times when I can’t reach a computer, but I always have managed to get on every other day.
Are you a slave Work in other shops? (Post links): Nope, but I’m probably going to open up a multi-thingy little shop soon. Selling Graphic Poems and Pixel Breedables.
Are you crazy?: Extremely yush! :D Mweehee…
Is Mel crazy?: Like omigoz nu way!! D: Mel wa hen desuka?! (I know some Japanese.) ‘Desu Yo’ de wa arimasen (don’t know if that’s correct, but I think it works)!
Any ideas for the shop?: Hmm…Familiars… Always loved those guys. Well, how about you can get familiars by buying them, or through rich and enjoyable RPing? Familiars could include…uh…Well… umm…

*lurks* =o