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So yeah, what's the worst/best manga you've ever read.

me:

worst: InuYasha, sorry Inu fans, I just can't stand dog-boy
best: Angel Sanctuary and Godchild; lol, not only is it interesting, the pictures are pretty. Sailor Moon, too. Even thought it's a little girly-girl by some standards, I still like to read the mangas now and then.

This story is a gothic like story of supernaturalism, the Victorian-ages in England, and so on. It is NOT a KH story, but please enjoy.

~*~

The clip clop of the horses' hooves sounded hollow on the cobblestone streets of London, England. Sitting on the plush leather seats was an overly large fat man, eating a warm piece of corn bread, the bits collecting on his beard. A thick gray mist nearly concealed the Victorian style buildings lined on the streets. "Now, Allison, I understand you've come to England to see your?" the man began through a mouthful of cornbread. Allison turned away from the window and stared at the man. She hated being in the carriage with him. "To see my cousin," she said disdainfully. Allison then turned back the window, letting the cold wind play with her curly black hair. Most would only see her stunningly beautiful features - her bright, green-blue eyes and ivory skin that contrasted sharply with her thick black hair. She pulled out a blue ribbon and hastily tied the heavy curls from her face. She peeled off her white gloves and rested them on her lap, ignoring the constant chatter of Earl Jameson as he babbled about the country estate she was going to. Allison was more interested in riding horse-back through the beautiful countryside, jumping logs on the beautiful English Thoroughbreds she had. She was glad to be going back home. She wanted to see her horses and just talk to them. She wanted to get out of this dress and into her usual clothes. She hated the lacy collar surrounding her neck. It itched and smelled like her aunt Gabrielle's stinky rose perfume. Allison liked the smell of fresh roses in the garden, not ones that had been pounded into a pulp and dropped into a bottle. But, no, Gabrielle had to have French perfume, made especially in Paris. "We're here, Allison." Allison eagerly turned and peered out the window. The carriage turned up the elegant entryway to her home. She immediatly saw the brick stables and heard the familiar whinnies of the horses. The foxhounds galloped beside the carriage, yapping and howling eagerly. Once the carriage had made a complete stop she jumped from the seat and slid to the ground. Her legs felt shaky from the two hour ride from Earl Jameson's estate to London. "Allison!" Her mother jogged over to her and wrapped her arm's around Allison's shoulders, squeezing her tightly. "I missed you so much," Allison said, trying hard not to cry. She wanted to be happy for her mother. "Well, it's good to hear that Allison is glad to be home." Earl Jameson said, gasping as he readjusted his high collar and staggered from the carriage. Allison expected his to crash to the ground and roll to their feet, but instead he successfully made it out of the carriage without a crash landing and waddled over to them.

Allison's cousin, Christian, came out from the house. He looked unlike her, with serious blue eyes and blonde hair that was cut short. He wore a burgundy suit and carried what looked like a walking stick, just for the elegance of it. "Hello, Allison." he said, smiling at her. She curtsied and then smiled. Christian might have a haughty air around him, but maybe he'd go riding with her. "Well, let's go inside, it's cold." Allison didn't go. She dug some apples out of her pockets and fed them to the carriage horses. They snuffled them up eagerly and nickered their thanks. Rubbing their noses, she then trotted up the steps. Christian stood in the massive doorway, staring at her. "What?" she asked. "You like horses, don't you?" He asked, his walking stick tapping loudly on the wood floor. "I love animals, not just horses." Allison said a little defensively. What was wrong with feeding horses' apples? She did it all the time and her mother didn't care. "Your aunt, Lady Gabrielle, said that she thinks you spend to much time with the horses and outside." Allison snorted silently and rolled her eyes. Gabrielle hated going in the stables, even though they kept it clean inside. When Allison's favorite horse, a beautiful golden stallion named Raphael had touched her, she had squealed as if she'd been burnt with a hot iron. Allison had laughed though and patted Raphael so he wouldn't think he did anything wrong. "Gabrielle just doesn't think horses are 'clean' enough." she said, smiling at the memory. Allison went to her room to get ready for the dinner. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and wrapped a bracelet of pearls around her wrist. She did her curly hair into a bun and then sat down at her table and began to write in her diary.

Dear Diary,
I have returned from Earl Jameson's estate to home, and I'm very excited. I hope to go riding by this afternoon if I'm not stuck playing pool with the family. I miss jumping over the fallen logs and we have so many on the trails. I missed mother a lot, and I miss my room, my horses, my pets, and the house. I have a feeling Christian, my cousin, thinks I'm sort of a rebellion from Gabrielle because I spend to much time in the stables and outside. Ha, only if they knew. I have to go now, but I'll be back to write more.

Chapter Two coming soon :)

People back in 19th century England had Internet?

I watched Cold Case Files all day yesterday. I never was really interested, but they have some really interesting things on now...much better than the NBC News and Hitler.

It is over 100 degrees outside. I wish I had to nerve to go and fry an egg on the sidewalk but I might fry myself before the egg makes it to the concrete. 0_0