the first

[the_storyteller]

[Paradisa is not the most colorful place. The inside is particularly drab; the exterior of the castle, too, leaves quite a lot to be desired. Everything is so very monotone.

And Clopin isn't going to stand for that.

Of course, he isn't entirely sure where he is, and in his search for answers to that question, he's been perusing the journal he found amidst his very few personal belongings. It's been quite informative--particularly on the matter of wishes being granted.

So, shortly after coming to Paradisa against his will and finding it bland and certainly not prepared to his liking for the grand arrival of a gypsy king, he has decided to take this matter into his own hands... beginning with the main entrance to the castle. He's standing outside, barking orders.]

Castle! Drapery--purple and gold, perhaps--please!

[And the castle delivers. In a pile on the ground in front of him, rather than hanging above the entrance as he'd been hoping.]

So funny, so funny, Castle! You are a kidder, aren't you?

[Oh, well. He starts throwing the drapes around on the ground instead. Much less dignified, but they'll be a nice place to practice a few cartwheels when he's finished, anyhow.]

Comments

[themistress]

[If there's anything Mistress respects, it's customization. Unfortunately, purple and gold don't match her outfit. And that's just unacceptable.

She's outside just because she can be (and it's unexpected of her), and tromps right up to Clopin.]

Those will need to be disposed of.

ffff oh lord

[the_storyteller]

[He turns to frown at whomever has the gall to tell him what to do, and when he sees her, his frown becomes a full-on scowl--though he's looking at some point above her head, now, in an attempt to be some semblance of a gentleman.]

Madam, please tell me why you believe you have the power to dictate this?

[themistress]

You don't see me trying to make it so that your outfit doesn't match your surroundings, do you?

You did that on your own.

[the_storyteller]

Outfit? You don't seem to have one.

[And he'll be going back to spreading out one of the large pieces of purple fabric once again.]

[themistress]

I most certainly do! [What are you talking about, man! A bra and thong and thigh high boots is an outfit if they're color coordinated.

And now, the edges of all of his draperies are singed >:( ]

[the_storyteller]

[Hands on his hips, he spins back around to her]

What in the world are you doing? I've no intention of moving my decor, so perhaps you ought to move your outfit instead!

[themistress]

You have a room, go put your garish, out-of-place decor there! Either that, or hang something red.

[squartatore]

[trips over the edge of a drape like a boss

and slides over the one beside it to land on her face

why]

[payback]

[Listening in bemusement to this over the journal. Dictated:]

Well, that's one way to put it...

[jimfromit]

Purple and gold?...Is Mardi Gras in town?

[chippedcup]

[She's watching him from where she's sitting in the lobby with a book.] You really like purple and gold, don't you? [The man is even dressed in it.]

[jammin_with_ed]

[There's a small child hanging upside down in the open doorway peering curiously at these goings on]

[wastheexample]

[Haymitch is having his daily wander between drinking binges. He pauses when he sees Clopin. That outfit reeks of the Capitol, only they'd wear something that ridiculous and be seen outside in it.

He's understandably cautious, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible while at the same time trying to find out what this guy is doing here]

I don't think this place is up to that much fashion.

[thebutz]

[Larry just so happens to be taking a stroll when he sees...

He sees...

...some weirdo in a mask!

He watches the weirdo in question for a bit, curiously.

And then...]

Hey, man... If you wanted those draperies draping, you can probably... Wish up... Something... Like a really tall ladder? One of those folding dealies.

Except a ladder wouldn't be tall enough, would it? Hm... A dilemma.

[He takes on a look of intense concentration, and rubs his chin for added effect]

[the_storyteller]

Red! Red is garish--and far more suited to women than men, anyhow.

[themistress]

Yes, but you're decorating the castle, not yourself. The castle isn't a woman or a man, it's a building.

[the_storyteller]

[He watches this, highly amused and not bothering to help.]

Do be careful of my decorations!

[the_storyteller]

[He jumps away from the journal when it talks, but skitters back over and picks it up once the initial shock has passed.]

It does seem to have a ridiculous mind of its own.

[Much like the journal he's now holding a conversation with.]

[the_storyteller]

Unfortunately not! But when it is, I'll be certain to let you know.

[the_storyteller]

I do! And I find a world without the proper decor terribly dull.

[He removes his hat and gives her a deep, sweeping bow.]

Might I ask your name?

[the_storyteller]

[Once he's noticed this, he calls out to her.]

How did you get up there? I was looking for a way to do the same!

[the_storyteller]

[Clopin, being Clopin, flings an arm around Haymitch's shoulders and is all smiles.]

You clearly just don't see the potential here, my friend! What a fashion statement the whole castle could be, if only given the opportunity!

[the_storyteller]

I am a man, and my tastes do not run in the direction of red. My color choices work much better for this castle.

[Arms crossed over his chest, he's not budging on this opinion.]

[the_storyteller]

I was trying to find a way to hang them from the doorway!

[He, too, is deep in thought for a moment.]

A ladder, you suppose, then? Would you like to do the honors of that wish, my friend?

[themistress]

Are you really a man? I question that. [BLAM, YOU ALL GET A TASTE OF THE BITCH PUDDING] Anyway, your color choices are irrelevant because you are not a ruler.