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CANON: Real World Original
HEIGHT: 6'3"
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AGE: sixty-five
ALIAS: Anna
MOVIE: san francisco
CANON GIF: https://s29.postimg.org/mgdswin2v/mitchgif.gif
APPLICATION: 5206
SHIPPER: 5215
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single
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LYRICS: Look around the world, pretty baby; is it everything you thought it would be? The wrong guy, the wrong situation - the right time, to roll to me.
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Joined: 26-November 16
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Last Seen: Yesterday at 05:59 pm
Local Time: Aug 21 2017, 08:16 AM
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gregory adam whitehead

SF ORIGINAL

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Apr 18 2017, 12:44 PM
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With a few paint stained towels wedged beneath his bum as a makeshift cushion, Greg sat perched cheerfully atop a rusty old ladder, painting his shop. The sun was out, and spring was in the air, and so he had emerged from his flat to get some spring cleaning done. Over the winter, rain and mud had sullied his shop front, causing the paintwork to look dulled and dirty. It did not create the first impression that he hoped to achieve in potential customers; it did not entice people to enter, and made him look far more neglectful of the place than he actually was.

<p>Deciding to savor the activity, he had settled there with his radio, and was now humming merrily to Camille Saint-Saëns' Danse Macabre. Lost in the melody, he flicked his paintbrush like a conductor in time to the music. Music added a tempo to the activity, and so added a sense of energy to every job that needed to be done. Greg had always loved music, and played it almost constantly as he went about his day to day life. Classical tunes were usually his favourite, and was the genre which lent itself best for being used as motivating background music.

<p>He was creating swirling letters above the front window that spelt out 'The Knick Knack Nook', using purple paint from the can that balanced on his lap. His business, unsuccessful financially, was more like his personal living art project, and so Greg took great care over every facet of its creation. Intending to create a space he loved, and which other people could love, he was enthusiastic about its upkeep. Painting was something he also found enjoyable, and with a satisfying flourish he finished the end of a letter ‘K’, pleased by how his project was progressing.








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<div class="taggingbad">isabella grace clare » 302 » <3</div>
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<a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=14639"><span style="font-family:orator std; font-size:8px; color: #03435e; padding-right:10px; line-height:8px; letter-spacing:1px;">love, libby</span></a>
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Feb 17 2017, 06:15 PM
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The jingle of a shop bell held such strong associations for Greg that when he heard it ring, he turned around to spot where the customer was, in case they were in need of any assistance. Though true that few shops had them, these days, there was no excuse for such confusion; old age didn’t come by itself, but Greg had not yet reached the age where he could blame that for his silly mistakes. Chuckling softly, he stepped over the threshold and into the shop.

<p>Inside, knickknacks and goodies caught his eye in every direction. Above his head, paper cranes hung from the ceiling and surrounded the doorway in an impressive display. Many of the items were similar to that which he would stock in the Knick Knack Nook, but there was a greater selection to choose from here, and of a higher quality. Whilst brilliant, the experience was surreal; it felt like walking through a magical portal and into an alternate reality that was home to an idyllic mirror image of his own business. As a result, Greg felt like a child in a sweet shop; the proprietor here had achieved everything he could only hope to accomplish himself some day.

<p>Practically bouncing over to a beautiful old telescope, he leaned down to peer through without putting his hands on it – afraid to tarnish such an exquisite item with his fingerprints or, heaven forbid, knock it over. It was clear that someone had spent a great deal of time taking care of the equipment, evidenced by brass that shone and wood with the perfect varnish to emphasise its grain. Greg longed to have such beautiful remnants of history back home, but was not making enough money from his current stock to justify it.

<p>Distracted by his browsing, Greg barely even noticed the sound of footsteps in the room behind him. Fortunately, as a result of so much practise keeping an eye on his patrons to know where they were and whether they were behaving, the gentle tapping managed to break through his reverie. When the man arrived, there had been no other customers occupying the room, and nobody had entered from the front door, so he came to the conclusion that this person must have been the owner.

<p>Excited to meet such a wizard of antiques, Greg dragged his attention from the telescope and turned to greet him.<b>”This is a great place you have; a real cave of wonders,”</b> the man smiled, and offered his hand to shake, <b>”You don’t happen to have any military memorabilia, do you? I have a friend who’s always on the hunt.”</b>













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<div class="taggingbad">bastian binx cross » 439 words » Greg the fanboy. xD Hope this is okay! I made a few assumptions about what his shop was like. >_o</div>
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<a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=14639"><span style="font-family:orator std; font-size:8px; color: #03435e; padding-right:10px; line-height:8px; letter-spacing:1px;">love, libby</span></a>
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Feb 12 2017, 04:11 PM
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Boiled rhubarb and custard flavoured candies nestled in a small glass dish next to a pile of the classics. Popping one into his mouth, Greg sucked the sweet as he thumbed through a particularly beautiful copy of Frankenstein. A wordy story, with a disagreeable protagonist, something about the tale fascinated the man all the same. Of course, it was no comparison to his favourite books, the majority of which Dickens held claim to; they shared a dark plot, but at least the latter had some slightly more humorous relief.

<p>The man had discovered the book shop only a few days ago, and had already fallen in love with it. With its piles of well worn books and rustic smell, it reminded him of home; not to mention that the sugary treats hidden in every nook and cranny were certainly a bonus.

<p>Admiring an illustration of the monster, Greg overheard a commotion coming from the front desk of the shop. Distracted, he glanced up to the raised voice of an irate customer trying to start an argument with the lady behind the register. From what he could hear from his place between the shelves, the issue seemed to be that the man had ordered a book, which hadn’t yet arrived.

<p>Despite being reluctant to get involved in their quarrel, Greg felt compelled to help in any way he could, and turned the corner just in time to witness the customer storm through the door, slamming it closed behind him. The shopkeeper remained at her counter, and Greg turned to face her. <b>”Everything okay?”</b> he asked, book still in hand. Having encountered confrontational patrons whilst running his own business, he hoped that the aggressive behaviour of the other customer hadn’t shaken her.



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<div class="taggingbad">emilia catrina la amada » 290 » I hope the assumptions I made about her shop are correct. >_o Let me know if anything needs changing. <3</div>
</div>

<a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=14639"><span style="font-family:orator std; font-size:8px; color: #03435e; padding-right:10px; line-height:8px; letter-spacing:1px;">love, libby</span></a>
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Jan 3 2017, 10:46 AM
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bugs in books

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In an effort to slow the ever expanding piles of stuff in his house, Gregory had decided that he would buy no more books for the foreseeable future, unless he couldn’t find them in a library first. It had turned out to be a good idea; he was discovering all sorts of new stories that he wouldn’t have found otherwise. He sat with a reference-only book about castles on the table in front of him, flicking through the pages nonchalantly, enjoying learning about battles with Norman invaders.

<p>When he reached page twenty-one, however, Greg couldn’t help but gag. Squashed between the pages, smeared across the text, was a dead cockroach. He covered his mouth with his hand, and shut the book quickly. Unfortunately, all he found was another cockroach – alive, this time – crawling around on the table under the cover of the book.

<p><b>”Eurgh!”</b> Greg jumped from his seat, and rubbed his hands on just jeans. He realised he must have carried across from the shelves on the book, and the thought that they had the opportunity to scuttle onto his hands made his skin crawl.







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notes

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=3

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Dec 20 2016, 11:45 AM
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