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“Then Miss Black is fine –“ Christabelle began, but she cringed. Tynan had hopped on her head, and although he wasn’t heavy per se, she never enjoyed having his claws dig into her scalp. Or, his tail in her mouth. It was not a pleasant taste.

As Tynan settled himself and moved around a bit, Christabelle daintily picked up his tail out of her face. “You… can wear whatever you like, but it’s on you to keep track of your belongings. You wouldn’t be the first to accidentally sell something important.”

With a slight scowl (not at the teens of course, at Tynan for commandeering her head) she forcibly removed the feline, wincing a bit as his claws pulled long strands of dark hair out of her braid. She moved a hand under her hind legs, and held him against her chest like a mother held a baby (or someone holding a cat or a small dog, less poetically).

“Why don’t we all move inside?” she said, nodding towards her door and raising her voice slightly so all the other arrivals heard. She absentmindedly stroked the top of Tynan’s head, behind his ears. He was always a bit of a bother, but this time around she was counting on him to intercede. “The store is closed for business today, because I’d like for you to help me with inventory.” Her eyes narrowed at the other boy, the one staring at the water while listening to music. He better have been listening to her. Jhon, and the blonde girl seemed attentive enough.

“So, we’ll be working in the basement today. It’s a little warm in there, and it’s a bit dusty from all the boxes, but I really would like to get at least a few hundred more items marked up for sale before tomorrow.”

[[Foxy: I haven’t addressed Lairena yet, because I think judging by your post, she’s about two minutes behind the others, and so quite possibly does not exist in Miss Black’s mental radar yet.

Heaven: Gurrrrrrl , you better post soonish or else Tori is gonna be way late!]]

When the newest employee arrived, Abigail sneaked a sidelong glance at him from behind the curtain of her silvery pale hair. He was much taller than her and seemed withdrawn. Miss Black began speaking about then and Abigail switched her attention fully to her new employer, her small smile growing slightly when the cat began to purr loud enough for all to hear.

Her eyes grew wide though at the mention of inventory. She had assumed they'd be painting the shop (though now she wasn't sure why she had thought that) and as a result had worn this ridiculous get-up. Abigail bit her lip slightly and her face colored slightly in embarrassment but she rationalized that at the very least the inventory of an antiques shop was likely to be dusty and this way she wouldn't have to worry about her clothes.

((Holy Run-On Sentences Batman!))

When Miss Black mentioned that personal belongings should be kept track of, Randy subconciously tugged his back tighter to his shoulder. The only things he had that were worth having were in this pack. The thing wouldn’t leave his side at all today if he could help it. He turned his head back to the others and Miss Black, glancing just long enough to catch the look Miss Black was giving him, then went back to looking out to the river. He knew that look fairly well, it was the same sort of look most people gave him when his appearance didn’t match their expectations or requirements. He’d been seeing the same look since he was a child, and it no longer bothered him. Though even as he considered it, the thought of someone focusing on him caused his throat to tighten and his face to flush ever so slightly. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, but what he really needed was a distraction.

Sliding a hand into a back pocket, he fished out a slender piece of metal. Randy didn’t know what it was, other than being shiny and roughly pencil shaped, or where it had come from. It was just something he had found long ago, and liked to play with when he was bored, or thinking, or in this case, trying to remain calm. Rolling the small metal rod to his fingertips, Randy began to absentmindedly twirl it between his fingers. Slow now, then faster, slow again, and then a blur as the rod twisted back and forth and around his fingers and knuckles. The simple activity started calming him immediately, and as Randy began to relax again, he looked over the other two youths present from the corner of his eyes. His apparent co-workers were as different from each other as they were from him. The other guy seemed fairly confident and outgoing, traits could easily be manifestations of an overbearing nature. Randy made a mental note to keep an eye on the other guy, and to keep his distance. The girl seemed a little older than he had originally given credit for, but the way she carried herself gave her the air of being overly concious of what was going on around her. Randy could understand that, to some extent, he had been much the same way as a child, but now he couldn’t care less what people thought of him. He just didn’t like the idea of people thinking about him, in any capacity.

At the mention of cleaning basements, and pricing of inventory, Randy nodded his assent and understanding. Then, with a last glance at Miss Black and her cat, he turned back to the river once more.

There wasn't much of a response from the teens, but Christabelle didn't expect much. For them, being awake before lunchtime during the summer was probably a travesty. The corners of her lips twitched up just a little, and she shook her head slightly. She never had summer vacation, she was in school, and most adults worked all year - especially entrepreneurs like her. But it wasn't so bad, she loved her job. People would kill to get to experience even half of what she learned through handling old things.

"Let's go, then! The stairs are through the open door behind the register, take them down to the basement of course, but please don't move anything, and be very careful about what you touch. Fingerprints don't sell well, and -" She narrowed her eyes playfully, "- I can always use them to track you down, you know? But I wouldn't really do that!"

She held open the door of the shop with her foot, and nuzzled Tynan against her cheek. Out on the street, a fourth teen, a girl, came racing in on her bicycle. Christabelle waved peacefully at her, and beckoned her up to the porch.

[[Sorry if the post is a little short! I REALLY want to get the story rolling, because I have a lot of exciting things planned! These first few scenes are going to go a bit fast, hopefully. And each of you have a special role, so I'll be sending you PMs periodically telling you certain details. Try to be as secretive as possible, and don't tell each other what I tell you one-on-one in the messages.]]

The smell of old leather bound books, polished wood, and dust wafted toward Abigail as she stepped through the door of the shop. The smell reminded her why she had wanted this job in the first place. She liked the smell and followed the boy with the necklace through the shop toward the door that the woman had indicated. She glanced around her at the various oddities, wondering what most of them were for.

The building smelled sort of like a library, but Abigail couldn't see any books. They must be kept in a back room or something. She hoped she'd be able to get a look at them at some point. Abigail was careful not to touch anything on her way to the basement, trying to be respectful of Miss Black's statement about fingerprints.

((not too bad for being pretty tipsy, ne?))

As soon as Miss Black started heading for the door, Randy moved to follow. He gave the small metal bar he was twirling one last twisting flair before stashing back in his hip pocket. Following the other two youths in, his eyes downward, Randy pulled his headphones down to hang around his neck again. More than one adult in his past had always grumped about him always wearing his headphones and listening to music all the time, but it was always worst when indoors. Of course he wasn't always listening to music, sometimes he would wear his headphones so that people would be less likely to bother him. But considering the circumstances, that this was a job that was paying him in cash, he knew that he needed to make some concessions.

Once inside Randy was struck by how eclectic everything was. Everything was so different from each other, both in what it was but also in how old it seemed. Antiques were far from his area of expertise, not that Randy exactly had such an area, but in his mind he had been expecting a cluttered shop full of old books, old clocks, and even older chairs. He noticed a few of all of those, but there were also trays and cups and teapots. Old wooden and tin toys, ragdolls, teddy bears, and a baseball glove. Most of all, he noted that there was a lot of it. And if there was more than this in the basement, and in need of sorting, then was going to be a very long day.

Letting out a very relieved sigh, Tori quickly made her way over to the little area designated for bikes and locked her's up. She couldn't believe that she'd actually made it in time. Sure, she was fast when it came to riding her bike...But that was insane. Granted, she hadn't gotten any red lights and no vehicles had gotten in her way, but still.

All she'd received was a friendly wave and a smile from the owner, no screaming, no frowns, nothing. Still, Tori didn't feel like she was off the hook just yet. Maybe she would be given a harder time in the future because of this, not physically, but maybe Miss Black wouldn't rely on her as much, or expect her to be "almost" late everyday...

Which didn't sit well with the girl at all. She liked to be depended on and knew she was responsible; it was the ALARM CLOCK'S FAULT, NOT HERS, UGH!

If the occasion arose, Tori would explain everything that happened and would just have to hope for the best that the shop owner wouldn't be closed minded about the irony of an alarm clock not working and label it as an excuse.

Quietly following the others teens (probably young adults like herself, but she couldn't be quite sure since the lighting wasn't very bright) now, Tori's mind was racing. What if there was another worker that was going to be late? Would that make a difference for her situation or not?

Lightly biting her cheek, the teenage girl decided to let it drop for now and pay attention to where they were going. If s**t was going to go down later, she would just have to take responsibility for her actions. There was no point in worrying and ruining her first day anymore than it already was! It wasn't a total lost cause yet!