paradisa

~~Dear Diary~~ Hey, funky castle-people. Whaddup? I have to say, I'm surprised I've managed not to wind up in some kind of trouble recently, so I'm sort of waiting for the other shoe to fall on me, crushing me like some kind of Kenzi-bug.

Things need to be done. Trouble needs to be gotten into. Or, you know, we could just pretend to get in trouble and wind up drunk and passed out on the lawn. Good times, people. Why aren't there more people passed out on the lawn? Come on, man. There are horses and jousting and damsels and I'm willing to bet there's a dragon somewhere.

If I'm going to be stuck in a castle that sucks your brain, I want to get my brain-suckings worth. Plans? Suggestions? Bueller?

sawyourwolfjunk

[There's the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat, then a deep breath is taken.]

Attention Paradisa residents. I'd like to bring your attention to a possible transaction. A trade of talent for cold, hard, cash. I have in my possession for the next three weeks, the services of one used to be car, but now totally human dude. He'd make a great butler-for-a-day, as well as being able to get any kinks in your neck out. We'll keep the, uh, services clean, people, so don't make me kick you in the junk.

He whines and moans a lot, but I'm totally cool with you muzzling him for the duration of your purchase.

Starting bid is twenty dollars per hour with a minimum of two hours. Any takers?

sawyourwolfjunk

Guess who has a roommate?

[The tone is somewhat dry as she gets over the shock of going back to her room and noticing the additional name on the placard. It was solidified when she opened the door and found two beds, along with a 'privacy' slider as well. Wonderful.]

And now I'm going to have to look for actual work, because I'll be damned if I'm going to let this place suck my brains out over wishes. I like my brains where they are. They work better that way.

So, yeah. Work. I don't do windows. Or heavy lifting. Or porn.

sawyourwolfjunk

Hey. Hey book people.

[There's a tapping sound as she taps at the page, wondering if there's an 'on' switch or something]

Where's a girl gotta go to get a change of clothes around here? A decent change of clothes. I don't want to run around looking like a Disney Princess reject, because the last time I checked, they didn't have a Princess Awesome.

[More tapping]

C'mon, book. Where's your frickin' on switch?

sawyourwolfjunk

[There's the sound of clomping, her heels making heavy sounds as she paced in the room she'd woken in.]

What the hell...? What the hell?! A girl can't take a nap without being abducted from the safety of her couch? This is crapballs.

[It's obvious she's talking to herself, since she picks back up without waiting for a response.]

If this is because of that tree-hugging Norne, I'm going to go back with some gasoline and a match and have myself a little campfire. Maybe make some s'mores. And they'll taste better with her big, fat Norne tears flavoring them. Freakin' fae and their freakin' entitled faeitudes.

[There's more illegible muttering, some of it in Russian, and likely directed at the parentage and sexual preferences of said Norne.]

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January 2015

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