Vic's Nonsense Points Shop

[victorianflorist]

@skinstealer

[Fantasy-type]

The surf washes over the fantasy types feet. "Are you sure we should have done that?" It kicks at a shell, throwing it deep into the waves. "I just can't get that out of my head, the things we did." It kneels down, washing its hands. "I just feel like my hands will never be clean again. Holding someone down like that, and a TCP at that." A large wave throws some water onto the TCPs face, the shine resembles tears. "What happens when the work we do isn't enough to keep up with our debts? Will we be on that table?"

[Flytrap-type]

There's a sharp knock on your door, you pull yourself out of your chair and walk towards the door. About halfway there, your door shakes on its hinges again and the offending knocker pounds again. You finally open the door to find a flytrap-type courier, its head is heavily pierced and it wears ripped, ratty clothes. It tosses your package at your feet and holds out a hand. "Tip?" It says plainly. You look at the TCP with disgust and slam the door, snatching up your package. You open your package and set the contents on your counter, throwing yourself in front of the television again. A few minutes later, you hear a heavy knocking again. You open the door to find graffiti sprayed all over the front of your apartment. 

[Pen-type]

Ah, the theatre. The Pen type director looks you right in the eyes at the end of your audition. You feel good, you really showed your all. The pen-type leans forward, the silence in the room is only interrupted by its ink-like fluid dripping down to the hardwood floor. "Well, to put it simply, that sucked. Next!"

[OBJ-type]

This OBJ-type just dumped a large amount of shells onto your counter. The wet sand mixed in with them goes everywhere, coating the wood of your stand. "Is this enough? I was collecting all day!" You smile and sweep the shells behind the counter and nod lightly. The OBJ type bursts into a huge smile. You fish out a necklace from under your counter, a gorgeous crystal on a delicate chain. The OBJ turns around expectantly and you gently loop the chain around its neck. It beams and dashes out of your store. You set to cleaning out all the sand it dumped all over your shop.

[Blanket-type]

You and some of your buddies rip through the fence of the abandoned hospital. It's off-limits but the stories of a cloaked ghost are too tantalizing. The four of you break through a window and climb through, flicking on your flashlights on and sweeping them around the vast ward. Beds and other medical equipment lay haphazardly across the room. Discarded IV bags and pill bottles litter the floor. You guys make your way towards the doctor's offices, rumor has it the ghosts are more active down there. Your friend comes to the first door and opens it slowly. A large fabric thing covers them, they twist and shake as the fabric makes rustling noises. You tell your friend to calm down as the sound the blanket seems to be making is, giggling. The blanket type rights itself and bowls over laughing. "You should have seen your faces!" It laughs.