♅ second

[themistress]

[Hi there, Paradisa! When you come down into the lobby this morning, a strange sight awaits you.

All over, there are signs of someone desperately trying to create a... well, a something, in virtually every medium thinkable. Small chunks of the wall are blasted off, where magic was used. Wooden furniture has been carved. There are attempts in paint, all over the floor. There are even large sculptures (ice, clay, cheese), grouped together in the center of the room. Whoever's been doing this seems to have thought that perhaps there's one material which might grant them the leeway to create whatever it is they're trying to create.

Mistress is on her throne (now missing large pieces of itself near the top), very close to the majority of the mayhem, scribbling aborted mark after aborted mark in her journal now. The closest she seems to be able to get is a circle with a line through it, which is clearly making her unhappy. Finally, she dictates:]

I need an artist. Now, if possible.



[ OOC: Open in the lobby or on the journal!

If you want to play with Mistress, and you haven't already done so, please fill out her permissions post! Thank you~ ]

Comments

action;

[gottaknockhard]

[It's funny how Spike always runs into these things (electricity going out, batshit women destroying the lobby) whenever he moves back into the castle. Still, the throne gets his attention. Not that many batshit women come with their own throne.

He picks up a nearby piece of cheese and smells it. Just to check and see if it is what he thought it was.]

That's going keep the ghosts busy for a while. [Yep, talking to himself here while he tries to figure out what she was making out of this poor mangled hunk of cheese.]

[themistress]

[Look, Spike, we all know you want to -- just eat the cheese. She didn't do anything weird to it.

Mistress glances up at this gentleman with giant hair over there.]

Don't touch that.

[gottaknockhard]

[It may have crossed his mind -- now he really just wants a sandwich.

The cheese may have already disappeared into his pocket (for the sandwich), but he looks up anyway, like he's only now noticing her outfit.]

Don't let me interrupt.

[themistress]

If you can draw, you aren't.

[She's looking at him expectantly, as if she thinks he's going to leap forward with a quill in hand.]

[gottaknockhard]

[... he still doesn't get it. Unless she's doing some weird modeling thing right now.]

If you wanted a portrait, you'd probably do better wishing for one.

[themistress]

A portrait? I need someone to make my mark. I can't do it anymore.

[gottaknockhard]

Your loss, huh?

[Possibly still standing around because of how she's dressed. He's very helpful.]

[themistress]

I suppose so. Can you help or not?

[gottaknockhard]

Afraid not.

[themistress]

Then what use are you?

[gottaknockhard]

[He shrugs, not bothered by the insult.]

I just live here.

[themistress]

You have no skills at all?

[gottaknockhard]

Not in what you're asking.

[themistress]

That doesn't make you worthless to me.

[gottaknockhard]

That's a little harsh. [He should just continue on to the kitchen, but... he likes people who insult him (who aren't Faye) apparently.]

What's your name?

[themistress]

But true. [Could it have to do with the near-nudity?]

Mistress. And yours?

[gottaknockhard]

[Hold on, back up -- did she say 'doesn't'? He really needs to pay attention instead of staring at her... face.

Mistress. You'd think that'd be a red flag.]

Spike Spiegel.

[themistress]

[It's just a name! Everything else about Mistress is a red flag.]

So, Spike. You really mean to tell me you have no skills at all? You truly "just live here"?

[gottaknockhard]

[Red would be his favorite color.]

If you can call it that.

[themistress]

[Mistress is annoyed, and there are two things she does when annoyed. One is punishing, but that seems to upset the people who live here. Soooooo...]

What else do you call it?

[gottaknockhard]

Waiting.

[Also 'what happens between naps'...]

[themistress]

[Mistress straightens up and starts eying Spike.] For what?

[gottaknockhard]

[Another shrug. He's giving a lot about himself away, gosh.]

Who knows.

[themistress]

[That's really okay. Mistress cares about one thing, and it's definitely not what he's waiting for.]

You wait for the unknown?

[gottaknockhard]

[He's actually a little surprised she almost sounds like she got what he's not-talking about. That's interesting.]

Yeah.