Norman Babcock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
always_someone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2019-05-28 08:13 am
always_someone) wrote in fandomtownies2019-05-28 08:13 am
Entry tags:
The Magic Box, Tuesday
It had actually been kind of a relief when class had been cancelled yesterday, at least to Norman, who was having... a time of it, this week. The ghosts around the island had changed, from whimsical jello dragons into giant, scaly, gargoyle-like monstrosities with bony protrusions coming from their backs and giant curling horns on their heads. The deer were... kinda horrifying two-headed cows, and the scorpions...
...
Actually, the scorpions hadn't changed one bit. And now there were living ones to match.
Norman would absolutely have refused to set foot outside today, no business was worth that kind of danger, if not for the fact that a few of the ghosts (some of whom looked more like zombies, which on its own was messing with his head) had promised to keep an eye out, to guide him down only the safest streets in town. There was, after all, a dog at the Magic Box who needed to be fed. Norman was gonna be the kid to do it.
He didn't bother looking too long or hard at the stock in the shop, though. When he passed by his first shelf of old, rusty tin cans, he was kind of resigned to the fact that there wasn't going to be much in the way of business, today.
That said, he wasn't really in a hurry to leave, either. He was going to hunker down here with the dog(s) for a while, first, because out there was all wrong.
[OOC: Open!]
...
Actually, the scorpions hadn't changed one bit. And now there were living ones to match.
Norman would absolutely have refused to set foot outside today, no business was worth that kind of danger, if not for the fact that a few of the ghosts (some of whom looked more like zombies, which on its own was messing with his head) had promised to keep an eye out, to guide him down only the safest streets in town. There was, after all, a dog at the Magic Box who needed to be fed. Norman was gonna be the kid to do it.
He didn't bother looking too long or hard at the stock in the shop, though. When he passed by his first shelf of old, rusty tin cans, he was kind of resigned to the fact that there wasn't going to be much in the way of business, today.
That said, he wasn't really in a hurry to leave, either. He was going to hunker down here with the dog(s) for a while, first, because out there was all wrong.
[OOC: Open!]