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sutepriBreather chapter, ahoy! Actually, the next one is too.
[Content Notes]
[Disclaimer]
Scrapped Princess | Canzonetta of the Unforgiven | Beauty and the Beast1 | Part 1/3
In all ages and cultures . . . ever since humanity first donned that garb called "civilization" and began to walk down a different path from the beasts, people's lives have always been haunted by the gap between the rich and the poor.
Wealth is biased, and its centralization gives rise to further centralization. On the other hand, lack summons further lack and grinds down those in need. There is no end to those who seek death as a means to escape poverty.
Of course, this is an unavoidable situation.
People are by no means equal. While the value of life is equal, mind, body, circumstances--all of these sorts of attributes are the very height of injustice, and are already in place even as one is being born. And society deems that acceptable. Ideals aside, disapproving of it gains nothing. The principle of competition is the foundation of societal development. We could say that those administrators who make no distinction between the competent and the incompetent are unfavorable to the health of society.
In reality, to those people suffering in poverty, such impudent theories are meaningless.
After tasting the kind of life in which one does not have even a slice of bread for tomorrow, surely anyone would rage against the inequality of the world. Whether it results from exploitation by the privileged classes, or simply from one's own bad fortune.
Well, then.
For those who fall into the quagmire of poverty and wish to escape from it (or perhaps adopt of policy of maintaining the status quo, to avoid sinking any deeper), the available options are not that numerous.
One is, as mentioned above, death.
Conversely, you can hold your despair in your heart and throw yourself completely into honest work.
However . . . where the body of a young woman is concerned, a terribly simple yet (for that reason alone) quick and easy path opens up. Opens and can never be closed again. That goes all the more so for a beautiful girl.
Being female, being beautiful--they are, in a sense, assets. There are age-old means by which to use them to make money. The "venture capital" is one's own self. One has little, if any, need of reserve funds.
Of course, some people will likely disparage this path as depraved.
But even so, in the course of a human life, there will be more than a few situations that leave one without options.
In other words . . .
"Um . . . I . . ." Raquel said, wearing a slightly embarrassed expression.
She was a beautiful young woman with long, black hair. Her features were extraordinarily refined, and she radiated charm.
And she had a touch of sex appeal about her as well.
"This is the first time I've ever done something like this, so . . ."
That voice intertwined with a rustling sound.
She usually had the air of a little girl grown tall, but when stripped of most of her clothing and wearing only thin undergarments, she possessed an eroticism that matched her age . . . No. Rather, taking an average from the women in her generation as a comparison, hers was greater. But then, even so, she had not lost the sense of freshness about her--this was, perhaps, a special quality of hers.
Those creatures that we call "men" are weak to this sort of air.
Perhaps it is sad, but, well, they are weak.
"Uhm . . . how do I look?" Raquel said, doing a spin so that the other person could get a better look at her.
Across the chest of her white apron, "Boland's2" stood out in large letters.
"Oh yeah, very nice, very nice."
Looking Raquel over after she had changed into her campaign costume (well, even if they called it that, it was merely a waitress uniform), Michelle Boland gave a big nod.
Shannon and his sisters had been seeking work in the city of Taurus for a few days.
Needless to say, they had to earn enough money to pay for the repairs to the Big Bear's kitchen and dining room, which had been destroyed during a fight of theirs. After asking a carpenter for an estimate, the siblings learned that the cost would not be so high as they had thought, but even so, the quoted amount had not been cheap.
For this reason, the siblings were, for the time being, seeking job openings, but . . . while it may have been called a city, Taurus was a backwater town without a great deal of commerce, so there was no reason to expect there to be many paying jobs available to outsiders.
Even a job that paid low wages was better than nothing. Perhaps because of her good nature, Raquel was able to earn small change scurrying about the neighborhood and helping out with housework or babysitting, but . . . in Shannon's case, he passed his inevitable free time either cooking and doing laundry for the Big Bear, or else sitting on the main street beside a handmade sign that read, "Will sharpen kitchen knives."
Incidentally, Pacifica was pleased to say, "I'm a dependent, you know," and was wandering aimlessly around town. Well, no matter what anyone might say about it, it seemed that she was looking for work in her own way, though.
And on one such day.
A trifling job offer suddenly came to the siblings, who were agonizing over their slow progress in repaying their debt (or perhaps I should say that Shannon was doing most of the agonizing). The offer came from Boland's, a shop that did some business with the Big Bear.
"In short . . ." Michelle said as she lined up small, round pastries on a table. They were freshly baked, so their fragrant aroma spread throughout the street. "We're promoting our new goods."
Michelle Boland . . . the only daughter of the Bolands, Shannon and Raquel's current employers.
Her shortish hair was the color of black tea, and her black eyes darted around quite often, so she gave an energetic impression. She was seventeen years old, the same as Winia.
"We're a little short on staff, and my oyaji seems really proud of this batch, so I figure, if we're gonna do this thing, let's go all out and do it with flair, you know? The concept for this new line is 'The Bittersweet Taste of First Love,' so instead of being amateurish about it and having that old man over there help out, it's better to have a beautiful, blooming woman help out, right?"
". . . so, this is how you're doing it?" Shannon said, sounding shocked.
The two of them (well, including the waitress uniform-clad Raquel, there were three of them) were in front of Boland's, on one block of the town's shopping avenue. The appearance of Boland's itself made use of the look of its structural timber and had a relaxing ambiance. But right now, the store front was lined with banners in a random assortment of gaudy colors, and on the table (which was covered by a cloth of a similarly gaudy pattern) lay piles of leaflets in even gaudier colors.
"Pretty ple~ase . . . You simply must savor Boland's prided new li~ne," Raquel urged, loosing--or rather, lavishing--her usual, drowsily happy smile on everyone as she promoted the baked goods on the tray she held.
Perhaps because the pastries themselves tasted so good, or because Raquel was so charming, or perhaps because the banners and leaflets were just so shocking . . . whatever the reason, people were coming to a stop in front of Boland's and forming quite a crowd.
Frankly speaking, it was a success.
"Even so, I doubt anyone's suddenly gonna copy this kind of thing. No offense, but does a bakery in a backwater town really need this kind of campaign?"
"You're soft3, too soft, Shannon-san. Approximately 2.35 times softer than our cream buns," Michelle said, wagging her index finger back and forth.
". . . it doesn't really make much difference to me, but it's pretty fussy to use decimals in an 'approximation.'"
"You're a pretty fussy guy, yourself. Girls hate that, you know?"
"Lemme alone."
In contrast to Shannon's glum tone, Michelle's tone was strangely overfamiliar--perhaps she had taken a liking to him. But then, the fact that she managed to keep it in check so that it would not come across as sarcastic or insulting was most likely due to her being a merchant who excelled at customer service.
"The thing is, Taurus has four bakeries. My oyaji doesn't get along with the guy who runs Coonan's4, you know? Well, I don't really like him much, myself. He's always patronizing me, calling me 'little girl' as soon as he sees me. Anyway, they never come right out and fight, but they do compete about each and every little thing, you know? So, recently we've been losing to him in sales--for about half a year now--and it looks like my oyaji is trying to think up some plan that'll pull us back from the brink."
". . . I guess bakers have it rough too," Shannon interjected, sounding like he could not have cared less.
"Yeah. Very rough," Michelle said. Her tone was earnest, but her expression made it quite clear that she found it amusing.
She was a strange girl.
"Well, it's a good thing a talent like Raquel-san showed up at just the right time."
"If all you needed was a pretty girl to draw in the crowds, you'd have done just fine," Shannon said, unreservedly looking Michelle up and down.
She was not a beauty worth any special mention, but she possessed a good-natured air that made it seem like anyone could easily enjoy her company.
"We need a hook, you know, a hook. A mysterious beauty with a murky background will capture customers' attentions better than I would have."
"Mysterious . . ."
For moment, Shannon tipped his head to one side and looked at Raquel. His elder twin sister was beaming as she distributed pastry samples to the crowd, which was growing ever denser.
She was his twin, with whom he had always done everything together, but . . . in reality, there were times when he could not understand what she was thinking. Seeing her inanely happy-looking expression all the time, there were occasions when he was gripped by a sudden, impulsive desire to knock her down and make her cry, or to provoke her to anger.
Along with Pacifica, she was the closest family Shannon had, but there were plenty of times when Shannon was struck by the realization that, while they certainly were twins, they were also two different people.
"Well, if you're using the 'clear as mud' sense, then yeah, I guess she is mysterious. Thanks to that, I got relieved from cooking and laundry duty too, so I guess I can't complain, but . . ."
Incidentally, Shannon and Michelle had stayed up the entirety of the previous night, making the banners and leaflets. You could not say that they were very well made, but these sorts of things really only need to be eye-catching.
". . . what's wrong? You seem kind of jittery?" Noticing that Shannon's gaze was roaming strangely about, Michelle raised an eyebrow.
"I haven't seen my little sister since this morning."
Pacifica had not been at the Big Bear when he had gone back there to take a nap. When he had asked Winia about it, she told him that Pacifica had said she had promised to meet someone.
Pacifica understood the position she was in, so she probably would not go to any unpopulated areas, but . . . even so, circumstances being what they were, anytime she was out of Shannon's and Raquel's sights, they could not help but feel anxious.
"Ahh, Pacifica-chan, wasn't it?"
"She really is just like an alley cat. Take your eyes off her for a second, and you never know what kind of trouble she'll get up to."
"Hee hee. That's what makes her so adorable, isn't it?"
". . ."
Shannon silently turned to face Michelle, then made a show of sighing.
"Must be nice to be a carefree outsider."
"Oh, stop." Michelle laughed, waving her hand like a fan. "You're just embarrassed. If I remember correctly, she's fifteen, isn't she? I get that your little sister is precious to you, but she's getting to be the age where she's going to find herself a boyfriend, so you can't go being a boor and getting in her way--got it, Onii~chan?"
"Any guy that would date that selfish brat would either have to be really charitable or a pervert with a taste for masochism. That, or just a moron." Shannon smiled wryly. "At any rate, I've done my share. I'm gonna go look for my sister--"
The moment he said that . . .
A portion of the crowd--which had been steadily growing and expanding in front of Boland's--suddenly split off.
A commotion broke out among them. At the same time, the split grew larger, and before long, the crowd parted right down the middle.
A petite silhouette was abruptly standing in the street.
". . . what the hell?" Shannon murmured, narrowing his eyes.
There stood . . . a strange object.
It was an object. It mimicked a living thing, but that figure was clearly very short and stout, and one could tell at a glance that it was man-made. In short . . . it was what is known as a "mascot costume," made of cloth and cotton batting.
An emerald green and extremely infantile figure.
Stubby arms and legs that existed almost entirely for the purpose of flapping around.
A ridiculously bulky head, thanks to its unkempt, ruffled something (perhaps hair or a crest--it was difficult to tell).
Token horns and a tail.
Eyes that were narrowed in a smile, and which filled you with the instinctive desire to pry them open.
". . . a crocodile?"
"It's a dragon!"
The one to answer was not the object in question, but rather the man who had appeared from behind it.
He was somewhat on the short side and plump, and his hairline was receding . . . Well, he was a prototypical middle-aged man. The letters written across his chest--Coonan's--eloquently related his identity.
[Next] [Previous]
Notes:
1) Technically it's something like "Beauty and the Demon Beast/Magical Beast" (美女と魔獣 - bijo to majuu). "Beauty and the Beast" translates into Japanese as 美女と野獣 (bijo to yajuu), so it's one of those doofy little wordplays that don't survive translation. Back
2) It's difficult to find a good source for this, but apparently Jim Boland was a Master Gunsmith whose customizations (particularly of the M1911 and the Tokyo Marui) earned him renown in the '80s, and he had somewhat of a "mad scientist" reputation. Boland Production Supply produces non-firing weapons for use in motion pictures, among other things, though I'm not sure whether there's a connection there or not. Back
3) The text actually has amai (甘い), which literally means "sweet" but can also mean "naive," "overly optimistic," "soft," etc. when used in reference to a person. Fortunately, since cream buns are soft as well as sweet, the pun is preserved. Back
4) Coonan Inc. manufactures firearms designed by Dan Coonan. Back
Anyone know of a site that deals in used light novels? I meant to buy a second set of Scrapped Princess (plus the Super Guide!) since scanning and translating does a number on them, but I let it slip my mind too long, so now they're out of print and thus unavailable from BK1, Mangaoh, and Kinokuniya. YesAsia only has books 11 and 12. And of course jamazon has them all used, but they won't ship to America. eBay has the occasional light novel, but no one loves Sutepri, so . . .
[Content Notes]
[Disclaimer]
Scrapped Princess | Canzonetta of the Unforgiven | Beauty and the Beast1 | Part 1/3
In all ages and cultures . . . ever since humanity first donned that garb called "civilization" and began to walk down a different path from the beasts, people's lives have always been haunted by the gap between the rich and the poor.
Wealth is biased, and its centralization gives rise to further centralization. On the other hand, lack summons further lack and grinds down those in need. There is no end to those who seek death as a means to escape poverty.
Of course, this is an unavoidable situation.
People are by no means equal. While the value of life is equal, mind, body, circumstances--all of these sorts of attributes are the very height of injustice, and are already in place even as one is being born. And society deems that acceptable. Ideals aside, disapproving of it gains nothing. The principle of competition is the foundation of societal development. We could say that those administrators who make no distinction between the competent and the incompetent are unfavorable to the health of society.
In reality, to those people suffering in poverty, such impudent theories are meaningless.
After tasting the kind of life in which one does not have even a slice of bread for tomorrow, surely anyone would rage against the inequality of the world. Whether it results from exploitation by the privileged classes, or simply from one's own bad fortune.
Well, then.
For those who fall into the quagmire of poverty and wish to escape from it (or perhaps adopt of policy of maintaining the status quo, to avoid sinking any deeper), the available options are not that numerous.
One is, as mentioned above, death.
Conversely, you can hold your despair in your heart and throw yourself completely into honest work.
However . . . where the body of a young woman is concerned, a terribly simple yet (for that reason alone) quick and easy path opens up. Opens and can never be closed again. That goes all the more so for a beautiful girl.
Being female, being beautiful--they are, in a sense, assets. There are age-old means by which to use them to make money. The "venture capital" is one's own self. One has little, if any, need of reserve funds.
Of course, some people will likely disparage this path as depraved.
But even so, in the course of a human life, there will be more than a few situations that leave one without options.
In other words . . .
"Um . . . I . . ." Raquel said, wearing a slightly embarrassed expression.
She was a beautiful young woman with long, black hair. Her features were extraordinarily refined, and she radiated charm.
And she had a touch of sex appeal about her as well.
"This is the first time I've ever done something like this, so . . ."
That voice intertwined with a rustling sound.
She usually had the air of a little girl grown tall, but when stripped of most of her clothing and wearing only thin undergarments, she possessed an eroticism that matched her age . . . No. Rather, taking an average from the women in her generation as a comparison, hers was greater. But then, even so, she had not lost the sense of freshness about her--this was, perhaps, a special quality of hers.
Those creatures that we call "men" are weak to this sort of air.
Perhaps it is sad, but, well, they are weak.
"Uhm . . . how do I look?" Raquel said, doing a spin so that the other person could get a better look at her.
Across the chest of her white apron, "Boland's2" stood out in large letters.
"Oh yeah, very nice, very nice."
Looking Raquel over after she had changed into her campaign costume (well, even if they called it that, it was merely a waitress uniform), Michelle Boland gave a big nod.
Shannon and his sisters had been seeking work in the city of Taurus for a few days.
Needless to say, they had to earn enough money to pay for the repairs to the Big Bear's kitchen and dining room, which had been destroyed during a fight of theirs. After asking a carpenter for an estimate, the siblings learned that the cost would not be so high as they had thought, but even so, the quoted amount had not been cheap.
For this reason, the siblings were, for the time being, seeking job openings, but . . . while it may have been called a city, Taurus was a backwater town without a great deal of commerce, so there was no reason to expect there to be many paying jobs available to outsiders.
Even a job that paid low wages was better than nothing. Perhaps because of her good nature, Raquel was able to earn small change scurrying about the neighborhood and helping out with housework or babysitting, but . . . in Shannon's case, he passed his inevitable free time either cooking and doing laundry for the Big Bear, or else sitting on the main street beside a handmade sign that read, "Will sharpen kitchen knives."
Incidentally, Pacifica was pleased to say, "I'm a dependent, you know," and was wandering aimlessly around town. Well, no matter what anyone might say about it, it seemed that she was looking for work in her own way, though.
And on one such day.
A trifling job offer suddenly came to the siblings, who were agonizing over their slow progress in repaying their debt (or perhaps I should say that Shannon was doing most of the agonizing). The offer came from Boland's, a shop that did some business with the Big Bear.
"In short . . ." Michelle said as she lined up small, round pastries on a table. They were freshly baked, so their fragrant aroma spread throughout the street. "We're promoting our new goods."
Michelle Boland . . . the only daughter of the Bolands, Shannon and Raquel's current employers.
Her shortish hair was the color of black tea, and her black eyes darted around quite often, so she gave an energetic impression. She was seventeen years old, the same as Winia.
"We're a little short on staff, and my oyaji seems really proud of this batch, so I figure, if we're gonna do this thing, let's go all out and do it with flair, you know? The concept for this new line is 'The Bittersweet Taste of First Love,' so instead of being amateurish about it and having that old man over there help out, it's better to have a beautiful, blooming woman help out, right?"
". . . so, this is how you're doing it?" Shannon said, sounding shocked.
The two of them (well, including the waitress uniform-clad Raquel, there were three of them) were in front of Boland's, on one block of the town's shopping avenue. The appearance of Boland's itself made use of the look of its structural timber and had a relaxing ambiance. But right now, the store front was lined with banners in a random assortment of gaudy colors, and on the table (which was covered by a cloth of a similarly gaudy pattern) lay piles of leaflets in even gaudier colors.
"Pretty ple~ase . . . You simply must savor Boland's prided new li~ne," Raquel urged, loosing--or rather, lavishing--her usual, drowsily happy smile on everyone as she promoted the baked goods on the tray she held.
Perhaps because the pastries themselves tasted so good, or because Raquel was so charming, or perhaps because the banners and leaflets were just so shocking . . . whatever the reason, people were coming to a stop in front of Boland's and forming quite a crowd.
Frankly speaking, it was a success.
"Even so, I doubt anyone's suddenly gonna copy this kind of thing. No offense, but does a bakery in a backwater town really need this kind of campaign?"
"You're soft3, too soft, Shannon-san. Approximately 2.35 times softer than our cream buns," Michelle said, wagging her index finger back and forth.
". . . it doesn't really make much difference to me, but it's pretty fussy to use decimals in an 'approximation.'"
"You're a pretty fussy guy, yourself. Girls hate that, you know?"
"Lemme alone."
In contrast to Shannon's glum tone, Michelle's tone was strangely overfamiliar--perhaps she had taken a liking to him. But then, the fact that she managed to keep it in check so that it would not come across as sarcastic or insulting was most likely due to her being a merchant who excelled at customer service.
"The thing is, Taurus has four bakeries. My oyaji doesn't get along with the guy who runs Coonan's4, you know? Well, I don't really like him much, myself. He's always patronizing me, calling me 'little girl' as soon as he sees me. Anyway, they never come right out and fight, but they do compete about each and every little thing, you know? So, recently we've been losing to him in sales--for about half a year now--and it looks like my oyaji is trying to think up some plan that'll pull us back from the brink."
". . . I guess bakers have it rough too," Shannon interjected, sounding like he could not have cared less.
"Yeah. Very rough," Michelle said. Her tone was earnest, but her expression made it quite clear that she found it amusing.
She was a strange girl.
"Well, it's a good thing a talent like Raquel-san showed up at just the right time."
"If all you needed was a pretty girl to draw in the crowds, you'd have done just fine," Shannon said, unreservedly looking Michelle up and down.
She was not a beauty worth any special mention, but she possessed a good-natured air that made it seem like anyone could easily enjoy her company.
"We need a hook, you know, a hook. A mysterious beauty with a murky background will capture customers' attentions better than I would have."
"Mysterious . . ."
For moment, Shannon tipped his head to one side and looked at Raquel. His elder twin sister was beaming as she distributed pastry samples to the crowd, which was growing ever denser.
She was his twin, with whom he had always done everything together, but . . . in reality, there were times when he could not understand what she was thinking. Seeing her inanely happy-looking expression all the time, there were occasions when he was gripped by a sudden, impulsive desire to knock her down and make her cry, or to provoke her to anger.
Along with Pacifica, she was the closest family Shannon had, but there were plenty of times when Shannon was struck by the realization that, while they certainly were twins, they were also two different people.
"Well, if you're using the 'clear as mud' sense, then yeah, I guess she is mysterious. Thanks to that, I got relieved from cooking and laundry duty too, so I guess I can't complain, but . . ."
Incidentally, Shannon and Michelle had stayed up the entirety of the previous night, making the banners and leaflets. You could not say that they were very well made, but these sorts of things really only need to be eye-catching.
". . . what's wrong? You seem kind of jittery?" Noticing that Shannon's gaze was roaming strangely about, Michelle raised an eyebrow.
"I haven't seen my little sister since this morning."
Pacifica had not been at the Big Bear when he had gone back there to take a nap. When he had asked Winia about it, she told him that Pacifica had said she had promised to meet someone.
Pacifica understood the position she was in, so she probably would not go to any unpopulated areas, but . . . even so, circumstances being what they were, anytime she was out of Shannon's and Raquel's sights, they could not help but feel anxious.
"Ahh, Pacifica-chan, wasn't it?"
"She really is just like an alley cat. Take your eyes off her for a second, and you never know what kind of trouble she'll get up to."
"Hee hee. That's what makes her so adorable, isn't it?"
". . ."
Shannon silently turned to face Michelle, then made a show of sighing.
"Must be nice to be a carefree outsider."
"Oh, stop." Michelle laughed, waving her hand like a fan. "You're just embarrassed. If I remember correctly, she's fifteen, isn't she? I get that your little sister is precious to you, but she's getting to be the age where she's going to find herself a boyfriend, so you can't go being a boor and getting in her way--got it, Onii~chan?"
"Any guy that would date that selfish brat would either have to be really charitable or a pervert with a taste for masochism. That, or just a moron." Shannon smiled wryly. "At any rate, I've done my share. I'm gonna go look for my sister--"
The moment he said that . . .
A portion of the crowd--which had been steadily growing and expanding in front of Boland's--suddenly split off.
A commotion broke out among them. At the same time, the split grew larger, and before long, the crowd parted right down the middle.
A petite silhouette was abruptly standing in the street.
". . . what the hell?" Shannon murmured, narrowing his eyes.
There stood . . . a strange object.
It was an object. It mimicked a living thing, but that figure was clearly very short and stout, and one could tell at a glance that it was man-made. In short . . . it was what is known as a "mascot costume," made of cloth and cotton batting.
An emerald green and extremely infantile figure.
Stubby arms and legs that existed almost entirely for the purpose of flapping around.
A ridiculously bulky head, thanks to its unkempt, ruffled something (perhaps hair or a crest--it was difficult to tell).
Token horns and a tail.
Eyes that were narrowed in a smile, and which filled you with the instinctive desire to pry them open.
". . . a crocodile?"
"It's a dragon!"
The one to answer was not the object in question, but rather the man who had appeared from behind it.
He was somewhat on the short side and plump, and his hairline was receding . . . Well, he was a prototypical middle-aged man. The letters written across his chest--Coonan's--eloquently related his identity.
[Next] [Previous]
Notes:
1) Technically it's something like "Beauty and the Demon Beast/Magical Beast" (美女と魔獣 - bijo to majuu). "Beauty and the Beast" translates into Japanese as 美女と野獣 (bijo to yajuu), so it's one of those doofy little wordplays that don't survive translation. Back
2) It's difficult to find a good source for this, but apparently Jim Boland was a Master Gunsmith whose customizations (particularly of the M1911 and the Tokyo Marui) earned him renown in the '80s, and he had somewhat of a "mad scientist" reputation. Boland Production Supply produces non-firing weapons for use in motion pictures, among other things, though I'm not sure whether there's a connection there or not. Back
3) The text actually has amai (甘い), which literally means "sweet" but can also mean "naive," "overly optimistic," "soft," etc. when used in reference to a person. Fortunately, since cream buns are soft as well as sweet, the pun is preserved. Back
4) Coonan Inc. manufactures firearms designed by Dan Coonan. Back
Anyone know of a site that deals in used light novels? I meant to buy a second set of Scrapped Princess (plus the Super Guide!) since scanning and translating does a number on them, but I let it slip my mind too long, so now they're out of print and thus unavailable from BK1, Mangaoh, and Kinokuniya. YesAsia only has books 11 and 12. And of course jamazon has them all used, but they won't ship to America. eBay has the occasional light novel, but no one loves Sutepri, so . . .
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 05:33 am (UTC)"Will sharpen kitchen knives."
This made me laugh :D
Michelle is surprisingly good person reader - I guess since she's a good customer service. She noticed that Shannon was jittery!
"Must be nice to be a carefree outsider."
Oh Shannon.
Hm, I'm told that Acclimate Solution as a site that will take orders for manga, where you can specify either used or new (I assume they take light novel orders). I haven't tried it, though. Also, CDJapan offered to get a book from the source you specify (assuming amazon.jp) for a fee/commision - I can't remember what the percentage.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-04 05:13 pm (UTC)Me too. X D It provides such a clear mental image.
She really is--I'd be willing to wager that jittery!Shannon looks pretty listless to most people.
Sweet, I'll check both those out. Thanks. I was also thinking of asking my local Japanese store since they love taking special orders, but this kind of thing would be much more of a hassle for them.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-05 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-05 04:01 am (UTC)