paradisa

[Mistress has a problem. Something that keeps popping up whenever she talks to men (well, certain ones). So, she figures she'll just ask.]

What, exactly, is "gay"? People keep saying this word to me, and I'm not sure I understand the concept.

themistress

So, when is someone going to go and fuck the Snow Queen so that it can stop being so damn cold around here?

[She's had to line her thong with fur, for god's sake!]

themistress

[(Broken filter) Cair Paradisa]

The candies were really a nice try, but next time, it couldn't hurt to make them all want to fuck a lot more. Or at least take their clothes off.

themistress

[Mistress is in the lobby, lazily and irritably draped over a sofa that's still a bit damp from the ice it used to be encased in. She's paging through the journal, not really reading so much as scanning.

So much of the same.]

While I've come to understand that this holiday entails you all exchanging tributes, I'd like to know why, exactly. From what I've seen, nothing in this castle entitles you all to a Mass Tribute Day.

In any case, I've decided to be charitable and give you all a small token of my acknowledgment for this... celebration.

[And, at some point this morning, residents should have found an ornate gift box in the middle of their room. Inside is one of two things: if the resident is a child or non-human(ish), they got a beautiful, delicious cream puff. If they are an adult and human(ish), they got... well. At least it was wrapped.]

themistress

[Everything had been so fun for a while, so entertaining. Everyone was angry and greedy and horny, it was exactly like being home.

But now it's all back to normal, and Mistress despises it.

The following appears in script, carefully written out with quill.]

Do you all know how fucking boring you are? You all should have stayed infected. At least you were all interesting that way.

wheatdos

No. I don't think that's even considered a pun.

( Filtered to Hank Henshaw )

( Filtered to Mistress )

themistress

( Hellboy )

[And then, in big, bold letters scrawled in red ink:]

PARTY IN ROOM 1908, OPEN TO ALL

[In Hellboy's room, Mistress has gone all out with decorations. Streamers and balloons and nude contortionists and an ice sculpture that's pissing liquor. Yes, she was telling the truth when she said she could plan parties.]

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.]

themistress

[Mistress has a falcon.

More specifically, she has a falcon that's capable of killing with its eyes.

Now, it's true that she had gotten frustrated with the thing in her own world, and given it away. But it was still decent entertainment, since she didn't exactly have punishments to enact in Paradisa, not ones that the falcon could interfere with.

So she wished her falcon back to her. And now? Now she's hunting. All over the castle.

Her bait is gnomes. Gnomes that she has released all over the castle. A loud cry goes out.]

KILL!

[And then there's a falcon shriek and a zapping noise. But this isn't an open field, so the falcon will eventually have to fly if it wants to kill all the gnomes.]

[ ooc: KILLING FALCON ON YOUR FLOOR/IN THE KITCHEN/AROUND THE CASTLE! But thanks to the castle, it's not capable of giving residents anything stronger than a mild tingle. Also that link is SFW as long as you don't go to any other pages]

themistress

[Mistress has a baby, but you'd really be hard-pressed to get her to admit it. So, for the past few days, there has been a rowdy, ill-behaved little boy running around in the lobby. He doesn't seem to speak very much, though he does laugh, and he's fond of magically zapping people to watch them jump.

But Mistress doesn't care. She just lets him run roughshod all over the place without so much as a glance. But anyone in the lobby might notice something a little suspicious about the way she glares when he peeks around the corner of her throne and then turns her footstool to life.

It trots out from under her feet, and Mistress adeptly catches the little boy by the upper arm.]

Stop it, Child. Leave me be.

[The little boy sullenly sucks his bejeweled binky and pouts at her until she releases him, whereupon he goes back to running around and casting magic at people.]

themistress

[Today, a flyer gets pasted into the journal.]

[Mistress herself is seated on her throne in the lobby as always, though now there sits an enormous trophy next to her. This trophy is easily seven feet tall, and made of carved, translucent ruby. Filled nearly to the brim with lake water, small toy boats float inside. The handles are shaped like curved phalluses, but that's really only something you notice if you're looking hard.

Even in a place where anything can be wished up out of thin air, it's an impressive sight.

In the spirit of proper bureaucracy, Mistress has a clipboard, quill, and lockbox, just waiting for entrants.]

[ OOC: Open for anyone who wants to enter the boat race, sarcastically or otherwise! Note: Your boat has to be a person. An actual person willing to let you sit on their chest or back and paddle them across the lake. ]

themistress

[A whole world filled with monsters. Monsters that do nothing but attack each other!

It's like a wonderful dream, for Mistress.

And you better believe she's got the best monster of all. Her precious little Venipede has already evolved all the way up to a fearsome Scolipede, and she's probably the proudest pokemama you'll ever meet.

Which is why she's parading around a shiny, eight-foot tall centipede, and having it use Toxic on things, just to make her laugh.

One of the things she has it dissolve with Toxic is her journal. So... you know, don't touch the purple sludge that's probably making your journal fall to pieces. You can still hear her bitchy voice though, laughing and cheering.]

Excellent work, Scolipede! Let's go find a small and unsuspecting person, to see what happens when we use Venoshock on humans.

[ OOC: Completely open for action and journal, and Mistress is also depowered right now. Which means that you'll get attacked with a pokemon if you upset her. ]

themistress

[Mistress has been thinking. It's spring now, and that means that outdoor activities are now accessible. And while she was forced outside to help with the winter wrap-up, she noticed that there's a pond.

That means it's time for something she found particularly entertaining, the one time she watched it happen.]

So, who has boating experience?

[ OOC: Obligatory permissions post link! Also, Mistress is in the lobby, for ~action~. ]

themistress

[Mistress's chambers are never a good place to find yourself uninvited. For one, there are all sorts of weird things lying around, like skulls and whips and not-completely-phallic objects. For another, Mistress is very temperamental, and dislikes being disturbed.

Especially when she's trying to sleep. Which she is. Because heaven knows she's not getting invited to any all-night orgies in this place, so why bother staying up? So she's just sort of peacefully dozing, or a peacefully as she's really capable of being.

Until, of course, the castle decides it wants to be her best friend.

Love you too, Cair Paradisa~]

[ OOC: Plus Washington! Open for (probably slightly delayed) journal reactions. Because Wash's life is not miserable enough. Ever. ]

themistress

[It's Tuesday, Paradisa, and that means two things: the first is that The Four Seasons Room is in beach mode, and the second is that Mistress's dulcet tones are ringing through the journal. She seems genuinely pleased.]

This beach is marvelous. We don't have shores like this in my kingdom, where everything is bright and warm and pleasant. Even if one journeys to the ocean itself, the waters are rough and the beaches are rocky. Tell me, subjects, are places like this common in other worlds? Do people really live there?

Oh, and do feel free to join me here!

[Which is something you may or may not actually want. Because what does a woman whose normal attire consists of a string bikini wear to the beach?

The answer is nothing but some very artfully applied sand and shells. She has to match the room, of course.]

[ OOC: Obligatory permissions post, please use it! Open over the journal, and for beachy fun-time action. ]

themistress

[It's a bit late to be in the kitchen, really. But Mistress is a somewhat nocturnal creature (the night time is the best time for large and elaborate parties, after all), and she gets a little bored when the lobby calms down in the evening.

So tonight, she's decided to explore the kitchen. And though she's from medieval times, it's not the microwave or the refrigerator that's caught her eye. Oh no.]

What are all these foods, exactly? So many of them, in so many layers of wrapping.

[You see, Mistress is used to less-processed food, served with goblets of wine and mead. More modern foods have piqued her curiosity! She's currently sitting on the counter in the kitchen, journal perched in her lap.

Every single piece of processed cheese in the refrigerator has been unwrapped and laid out methodically. Ding-Dongs and Swiss Rolls have been stacked into thoughtful pyramids, with swords stuck through them. There's a large and explicit painting on the floor, done entirely in condiments (mayonnaise and a pickle have been put to particularly good use). Potato chips seem to have been of particular interest, as Mistress has opened and tried every flavor she found in the cupboards.

There are some greasy streaks in the journal as she wipes her hands.]

Are things not made fresh here? Everything seems to be in its own little bag and stored. And who created this barbeque potato chip? I need to know.

[ OOC: open in the kitchen or over the journal. And here is her obligatory permissions post link. ]

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~ ]

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Paradisa

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