♅ eleventh (or first all over again)

[themistress]

[If you're in town, you might notice a woman walking around, plastering flyers all over the place. Each flyer is advertising services. She's really sticking them everywhere, and handing them to people on the street. Perhaps you'd like to hire her. According to the flyer, she

• teaches magic
  
• plans parties
  
• performs acupuncture (*pain guaranteed)
  
• is available for rimjobs
  
• grooms cats

Perhaps you'd like to comment on her skills. Perhaps you just want to stare at her because it's autumn and she's wearing a sheer dress and thigh-high boots and nothing else. Or maybe you just happen to note that she's so very familiar.

Either way, a flyer was just stuck to your chest. Because the woman might think of you as a lamppost.]

Comments

[hellshaped]

[Hellboy stops in his casually strolling around because. That's a weird thing that just happened.

He peels the flyer off his chest with a small grimace and turns around to frown at this lady!]

Excuse me.

1/2

[losemycherry]

Hey, lady! I'm not public property! You go post your flyers on somebody else.

[imalwaysright]

[There's a poster on his chest.]

I'm a person. Not public property. [And he rips the sheet off--

... That's... a weird list of skills. Especially put together.]

[assassino]

[Ezio is sitting on a bench when a flyer is pushed in the direction of his bowed head, and he pulls his attention out of his book just long enough to grab the offered flyer before it touches him. He glances at it, disinterested, and then does a doubletake at the fourth item. What?

He looks up from his book properly, to see who would offer such a thing so publicly.]

Madonna?

[themistress]

[Mistress pauses, turns and smiles.]

Yes, would you like to hire me? Cat grooming or rimjob?

[themistress]

Have you considered not standing in public, then?

[themistress]

You're in public, aren't you? That makes you public property.

[imalwaysright]

Nope, the only person I belong to is myself.

[themistress]

No, Mistress! Let me guess -- acupuncture?

[themistress]

Then perhaps you should go indoors. If you're going to look so similar to the lamppost, you can't be angry when you're treated as one.

[imalwaysright]

I'm not angry, I'm annoyed. There's a difference.

[assassino]

[He hops to his feet, almost a little eager.]

I do not know what that is, but if it is by your hands, Mistress, I'm sure I would enjoy it...

[Curiously:]

When did you arrive again?

[themistress]

I didn't know that lampposts had emotions at all.

[themistress]

Arrive? I've always been here.

[imalwaysright]

Since when did lampposts talk?

[themistress]

You could be an enchanted lamppost.

[assassino]

[Vague surprise...]

You have been avoiding us, then. I thought you had left.

[themistress]

Left where? I've always lived here, in the City Royale. I've never been anywhere else.

[She's genuinely confused.]

[imalwaysright]

I think I'd know.

[themistress]

Would you? One doesn't generally attribute self-awareness to lampposts. Tell me, do the benches know they're benches?

[imalwaysright]

I'm walking, talking, and thinking for myself.

So I'm going to go with not a cursed object of any kind.

[themistress]

Enchanted, not cursed. And if you aren't an enchanted lamppost, than you're just unfortunately close in resemblance to one.

[imalwaysright]

I'm not that great with magical technicalities.

And I'm almost surprised I've never heard that one before.

[themistress]

Well, if you do think that's the situation, then I'm terribly sorry about your face and general appearance.

[imalwaysright]

[He's tall and wearing far too many layers.]

I'm perfectly fine with my face and appearance.