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isolaradiale · 3 years

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The small 'ahem' and the dimming lights brought the attention of the closing party back on the podium. On it was Janus, looking a great deal better than he was a few minutes ago (when he was practicing his closing speech on a statue when he thought nobody was looking.) On the stage, he took a deep breath and brightened as everyone turned in their formal evening attire.

"Thank you all for coming to the Closing Party. It's been a pretty busy week, and all of you have made such beautiful and wonderous pieces of art. I'm overjoyed that they're on display tonight, and I thought there wasn't any way to view all of them in the span of a couple hours. So this last night of the museum will be going on until the sun rises again. You don't have to stay the entire time, but--"

"Well, sure they do!"

The interjection startled the AI at the podium, and he jumped a few feet from his spot. The chipper voice started again as one of the other statues on the stage moved, revealing the form of a marble-sculpted woman covered in holographic stickers.

"After all, each and every one of you put in so much effort into bringing your imaginations and inspirations to life, haven't you? So we thought we might return the favor, that's all. And you're all invited!"

Punctuating her statement was the sound of the large wooden doors, now slamming shut inward with a reverberating BOOM that bounced off all the halls of the lobby, even from the auditorium.

"I hope you all put everything into your masterpieces! Because your masterpieces will put everything into annihilating all of you~"

With another delighted laugh, the lights in the auditorium shut off, leaving everyone with only the light of their phones and watches. And as the murmurs began and hands reached for other hands in the dark, there was another THUNK near the wall as a framed portrait fell off its anchor. From its canvas, it began to look at the crowd, eyes now glowing in the light of everyone's flashlights. One hand crawled out of the frame, then another. Nails sank into the floor with terrifying ease as the subject of the portrait pulled themselves from its frame, marble cracking at its fingertips.

The next sound was a scream, and the sound of a woman falling onto the floor as the portrait pulled at her ankles. And then another. And another still as the frames began to move off the walls en masse, attacking anyone unlucky enough to be in their sights. There was a panic in the auditorium as people tried to flee and fight, falling over each other to escape the room

But it seemed that no matter where anyone chose to run to, or where they thought to hide, there was always something in the shadows.

Waiting.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Welcome to Part Two of the event!

As stated, the artwork in the Tempus Museum has come to life--literally, in this case. You've been challenged to survive until the next sunrise. To do so, you must evade, capture or destroy the horrific objects that have come to life.

Most of the artwork in the museum is hostile, and will attempt to un-alive your characters as best they can.

These generic museum monsters can be found everywhere wandering around, but are more common in areas they originated from:

Subjects and people in paintings will crawl out of their canvases to chase and eliminate anything they see moving. Their sharp nails can pierce through marble, so flesh and bone is probably nothing to them. Humanoids are not exclusive to this class of monster--painted animals, creatures and other things will also hop out of paintings to come after your muse. You can capture a painting monster by smacking it with a canvas, or destroy it with paint thinner (or water, if it's a watercolor)

Framed sketches will behave similarly to the painting monsters, and will leave lots of thin scratches as opposed to big ones. Capture them with paper, or destroy them by rubbing them with an eraser.

Statues of any material will chase your characters and attempt to injure them with their fists (or if they were holding a weapon, they'll use that weapon). Catch them by making them run back to their plaques, stands and pedestals, or destroy using a hammer and chisel.

The Parlor Dolls have now, unfortunately, all grown sharp teeth. They've all taken on ghastly appearances, and if they swarm around you, it might as well be the end of you. You can capture a doll by chasing it back into a display case, or destroy it by carefully ripping their seams.

Dancing Dresses in the painted ballroom will beckon people to dance with them, and will attempt to catch people in the folds of their fabric to immobilize them. They're not lethal on their own, but they'll hold your muse in place for something more dangerous to come along. Capture them by hitting them with a dress form, or destroy them by ripping their seams OR cutting them with scissors. - NOTE: Characters who bowed and danced with any of the ghostly gowns at the Gala XY will not harm the people who danced with them, and will instead, keep dancing.

Decorated Weapons made in the forge will take a life of their own and will seemingly float around, looking for battle. Sometimes they'll team up with Statues, making them especially deadly companions. Capture them by hitting them with a weapon rack, or destroy them with a hammer or any significant heat source.

Baked Goods and Pastries made in the culinary courtyard will not get up on their own, but a good many of them have become poisoned. The severity and potency of the poisons varies, with side effects ranging from an upset stomach to a sudden case of death. They don't move, so you don't have to capture them, but... maybe don't eat them, no matter how good they may smell and look.

Paintings on the street have come to life, making hazards of their own outside of the museum. Street-painted landscapes have become very tangibly real, as well as anything sprayed on the walls. If there was ever a time to regret the giant mural you painted on the side of a building as it crawls from its spot to squash you like a bug, now's the time. You can destroy these with water.

Landscapes will attempt to draw your muse into their world, sealing them in their frames. Your muse will be helpless to do much other than look through the painting like a window. The only means of escape is to have someone else drag you out of the landscape!

In addition to these generic museum hazards, there are a few specific hazards depending on how your muse behaved in Part 1 of the event:

If your muse created something with love, adoration, feelings of happiness, or any other intensely positive emotions, it may help them instead of hinder them. This can be anything from alerting them of danger to protecting them.

Your muse's own creations may attack them, too, aside from the generic monsters in the museum.

If your muse stole any artwork from the museum, it will hunt them down with special vitriol and hostility, and will stop at nothing to destroy your muse.

Similarly, if your muse attempted to destroy any of the artwork in the museum, it's going to target them specifically and attempt to return the favor.

Any art your muse made as a gift to others will either hurt OR help them, depending on individual mun preference.

Have fun! :)

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Frequently Asked Questions

"How long will Part 2 of the event last?"

The event will run until 00:00, June 18th

"Are the optimized tools still here?"

Shockingly, yes! And so are the regular tools, too. How you use them to survive is up to you, but building a door might be the fastest way. However, be warned that drawing a door on a wall has just as big of a chance of sending your muse to a different random room than it does outside the museum.

"Can we still do Part 1 threads?"

Yes! If you would like to keep your Canvas experience monster-free, you can continue making Part 1 starters until the end of the event.

"What about the art my muse took home?"

It has also come to life! So while the museum is certainly dangerous, there are random statues, paintings, dolls and other monsters roaming around OUTSIDE the museum, too.

"Can we destroy the paintings NOW?"

Unfortunately, they're just as invulnerable as they were before. Bummer, huh? Unless they're hit with their specific weakness, the monsters are invulnerable to attacks that damage them. (However, they can still be hindered by traps, and while strong attacks won't destroy them, they'll knock them out of the way!)

"Can we interact with Capella or Janus?"

Poor Janus is trying to put all the artwork back where it belongs by capturing them. He's in no danger for this, as the art in the museum will not attack their curator. Interacting with Capella the Statue might bring the wrath of her giant cat out to you, so. You've been warned!

"What if my muse saw something from their own world in a painting or a statue?"

That's incredibly unfortunate--those might be hostile too, and are subject to the rules that follow the other genuine painting monsters (meaning that the portrait of that character will not have any of their original powers or abilities.)

Whether the subject of the art your muse is familiar with will help or hinder them is up to mun discretion.

"Can't we just bust down the museum and escape?"

And destroy the biggest piece of art in the area?! (No, they won't budge. You'll have to draw your way out if you want to escape, either through a door or some kind of tunnel or something.)

"When will the sun rise?"

Not for 24 hours in-character (though the event will last until Jun 11th). Extended night time, woo!

"What happens if our muses get got by the museum?"

Muses that were defeated and failed to survive the challenge will have their portrait put up on the Wall of Shame, reflecting how they lost the challenge. They won't respawn until the sun rises, either!

"What if I have a question that's not listed here?"

Feel free to direct any questions you may have to the Masterlist!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"I thought you said everything would be fine!" Came the panicked footsteps of Janus, running to grab the frame the portrait monster crawled out of, picking it up with surprising ease.

"In my defense, I assumed everything would be." The statue of Caelum replied, furrowing his eyebrows and scrolling through a wall of code. Other statues of a Goddess-like Pleiades and an Antiquated Attired Alathfar, joining as guests, seemed to realize the issue before their older companion did.

"...Yes, nothing in here changed. But I don't see anything about..."

From the other side of the stage, Capella's statue pranced forth, stickers still glittering in the dark, somehow.

"That's just the first page." "The first page?" Caelum and Janus echoed back in confusion. "First page!~"

The grin still stayed on her cheeks from sticker to sticker, while Janus' increasingly scrunched in accusation.

"...I'll be damned. There were two pages after all." "DAD!" "I didn't see it, honest!" "I can't BELIEVE you!" "Now now, it was an honest mistake, really--!"

And as the old man's statue got quite the scolding from his son, Pleides and Alathfar stepped aside, meeting with Capella.

"Was there really a page two?" Pleiades asked, adjusting her comically large, rounded glasses. To that, Capella merely rocked on her heels, smile never fading.

"It's entirely possible Caelum got so wrapped up in helping Janus plan the museum that he overlooked it. Which is endearing, in a way. But..."

As Alathfar trailed off, the three of them looked back at the other statue trying to placate his agitated son, and grimaced in unison (except for Capella, who still seemed to be beaming with delight.)

None of them seemed keen on getting in the middle of the quarrel, and were only relieved when Janus stormed off with his empty frame.

#Isola Event: Canvas

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go-askalice · 2 years

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Un-Portraits || Alter

PET’S BDRPWRIMO : TASK 21

Write either a flashback or a flashforward thread with another mun!

November 2011

It was the evening of Alice’s first big art show and she felt like she was floating on a cloud. Despite only being in year 11, she’d been invited to show her art with the sixth forms — one of only two people in her year asked to do so. She’d spent the past few months perfecting her pieces, chattering about it to anyone who would listen.

Now, here she was, evening of, standing by her paintings in the little room in Town Hall that the school had rented out, sunflowers tucked into her hair. She smiled at everyone who walked past, giving her little spiel when they asked about her paintings (“I wanted to use mixed media and do a series of portraits that aren’t really portraits — more like un-portraits, that’s what I’m calling them.”), and in between the spaces of people, she stood on her tippytoes, looking for her parents.

They said they’d come. Alice had handed them an invitation she’d made herself and she tucked extras on her parents’ desks, and they’d said they’d come.

They said they’d come.

It was only half an hour in! There was time! And, look, here was Mr. Hatter making his way over.

“Hello!” she said, gesturing to her artwork. “Look! Remember when I asked for those extra tea bags? I used the little tags for this one —” She pointed at a collage, that vaguely resembled the profile of a man.

@davidhatter

#un-portraits #alter #swynwrimopet #;-;#hatter

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vonhellbert--moved · 3 years

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⚜ ・ TAG DUMP.

⚜ ・ frater meus you're beautifully made . to you i am forever grateful — FACECLAIM !

⚜ ・ experience is merely the name men gave to their mistakes — MUSE !

⚜ ・ thought the ink was dried but hellish gardens flowered — INBOX !

⚜ ・ seeker of darkness — OOC & MUN !

⚜ ・ your worth is determined by your sacrifices — PROMOS !

⚜ ・ your eyes are cruel but cast remorse and passions to behold — MEMES !

⚜ ・ i forget all time when i converse with you — QUEUE !

⚜ ・ every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist not of the sitter. — MUN ART !

⚜ ・ to be the perfect angel some sin must be done — DRABBLE !

⚜ ・ the people will speak of this day from near and afar — WISHLIST !

⚜ ・ i don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. i want to use them. enjoy them. dominate them. — IC !

⚜ ・ I will strike a match and watch them burn on the pyre of obsession — OPEN STARTERS !

⚜ ・ humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world's original sin. — DASH COMMENTARY !

⚜ ・ focus on me! i'll be all that they see! — ABOUT VIS !

⚜ ・ i sought understanding clarity in truth — DASH GAMES !

⚜ ・ horrid tongues slither in the psalms — MUSIC !

⚜ ・ i'll deliver hell to your doorstep dressed in rich facade — CLOSET !

⚜ ・ death is the mother of beauty and beauty is terror — ASETHETIC !

⚜ ・ the curves of your lips rewrite history — ABOUT VARULE !

⚜ ・ excuse me . i have to go make a scene — CRACK !

#⚜ ・ frater meus you're beautifully made . to you i am forever grateful — FACECLAIM !#⚜ ・ experience is merely the name men gave to their mistakes — MUSE !#⚜ ・ thought the ink was dried but hellish gardens flowered — INBOX !#⚜ ・ seeker of darkness — OOC & MUN !#⚜ ・ your worth is determined by your sacrifices — PROMOS !#⚜ ・ your eyes are cruel but cast remorse and passions to behold — MEMES !#⚜ ・ i forget all time when i converse with you — QUEUE !#⚜ ・ every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist not of the sitter. — MUN ART !#⚜ ・ to be the perfect angel some sin must be done — DRABBLE !#⚜ ・ the people will speak of this day from near and afar — WISHLIST !#⚜ ・ i don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. i want to use them. enjoy them. dominate them. — IC !#⚜ ・ I will strike a match and watch them burn on the pyre of obsession — OPEN STARTERS !#⚜ ・ humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world's original sin. — DASH COMMENTARY !#⚜ ・ focus on me! i'll be all that they see! — ABOUT VIS !#⚜ ・ i sought understanding clarity in truth — DASH GAMES !#⚜ ・ horrid tongues slither in the psalms — MUSIC !#⚜ ・ i'll deliver hell to your doorstep dressed in rich facade — CLOSET !#⚜ ・ the curves of your lips rewrite history — ABOUT VARULE !#⚜ ・ excuse me . i have to go make a scene — CRACK !#⚜ ・ death is the mother of beauty and beauty is terror — ASETHETIC !

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the-dimitrescu-seamstress · 3 years

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Twelve Yards of Floral Damask - One Shot

(Mun here. I was quiet for the most part of last night, but after Nicole Tompkins stream, a fire was lit under me and I finished a drabble I had been working on ever since I saw that one portrait of Lady Dimitrescu.

Below is a one-shot I wrote, one of many I have planned. Magdalena Petran is my OC, while Lady Alcina Dimitrescu belongs to Capcom. I hope you enjoy it.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The castle was immense and, if Magda had to admit it, a bit intimidating. It was rather easy to get yourself turned around in the hallways, or initially forget which door led to where off of the interior courtyard. The servants that were around, and willing to speak to her, advised the seamstress that, in order to make life in the castle easier for her, she had better learn the layout as best she could and as quickly as she could.

That was a task easier said than done. She felt safe in her part of the castle, even if safe was only a relative term. If she took a wrong turn or opened the wrong door, she could easily end up in a place where she would not return from. She was well aware of the screams that would echo throughout the castle. Sometimes they came from the direction of the family’s private chambers, but more often they would crawl up from the castle depths. Either way, Magda never wanted her voice to join them.

But, if she was so afraid, why was she quietly walking the halls this late at night? The simple answer was that the servants were right. She needed to learn how to navigate this world; both the physical and the social aspects. That meant she needed to learn all she could about the castle and its inhabitants. Repairing garments they were used to could only get you so far. Anyone could mend a seam or stitch a button, but Magda needed to make sure she was invaluable. The Countess seemed pleased with her work so far, but she had yet to entrust her with creating anything new. She needed to change that.

The other reason Magda was using the late hour to do her self-guided tour was that there were less people around. Most of the servants were already in bed, and she had picked a night that the girls were out on a hunt. The last thing Magda needed was for them to stalk her through the castle for fun. Their laughter in the dark was unsettling.

The lack of individuals also allowed her to take her time on examining the various portraits, busts, and ceramics that were thoroughly scattered throughout the place. She tried to piece together how old Lady Dimitrescu was by the decor, but there were items from across many time periods, keeping Magda from placing an exact age on the woman. The daughters could have been from the mid-1800’s, if the portrait in the Entrance Hall was any indication, but all she knew of the Countess was that she either had lived for many centuries or she was a collector of fine antiques and enjoyed living in great opulence.

The seamstress stood at the top of the stairs in the Main Hall, mentally mapping out the areas through the doorways around her. “That way to the Hall of the Four… Left and to the left again for the Entrance Hall, Carriage Gate, and the decrepit elevator of death. Though all this is a circle as well. Door to the right in the Hall of the Four leads to…” Magda didn’t complete that sentence, but through that door was the receiving room where she… where she became an employee of the castle. That would be a place to avoid for a while. Taking a breath and ignoring the brief ache of her left wrist, she continued.

“Dining Room below, and through to the left is the kitchen, while straight ahead is the courtyard. Once in the courtyard, to the right is the private chambers of Lady Dimitrescu. To the left is the Opera House, and my workspace.” To think that this castle had its own opera house. Yes, it was small, but still incredible to be in. With the bottom floor mostly mapped in her head, Magda began to walk the second floor. Here were the doors to the dressing and sitting rooms, as well as the Wine Room. Knowing that, she turned away from the dressing rooms and quietly went through the doors opposite.

The statue in front of her was large, unexpected, and the subject matter was really almost clichéd. Magda thought vampires were only supposed to have decadent art pieces of the sacrificial sort in works of fiction, and yet here was one being displayed before her. Perhaps it was a family heirloom or a macabre wedding gift. Either way, she decidedly turn her attention from it and continued on her exploration.

Light bled into the hallway from the room to the left, its door partially closed, and there were slight sounds of movement coming from within. Curiosity overcame self-preservation as Magda slowly crept forward, barely breathing in order to be as quiet as possible. Naturally, her careful steps found the one floorboard that squeaked under her weight, causing her to freeze in place and wait.

“To whomever is lingering in the hall, your eavesdropping presence has been noticed and it is not appreciated. Announce yourself before I lose my patience.” Magda closed her eyes and mouthed a silent curse as the voice of Alcina Dimitrescu sounded from within the room.

“It’s… It’s Magdalena Petran, ma’am. Your seamstress?” she replied nervously, before realizing how stupid she sounded. As if there was another Magdalena working here. There was a tense silence before it was broken by a simple command.

“Enter.”

Knowing better than to make her wait, Magda obeyed and quickly entered the room.

She had expected it to be a private study, but instead she found the room to be a simple art studio. No, simple wasn’t the right word. While it lacked the gilded decor of the rest of the castle, the ceiling was high and vaulted, complete with a skylight to let plenty of natural sunlight in during the day. Its simplistic appearance was only due to how older looking, more worn, and used everything was. The darker woodwork and wallpaper contributed to the effect as well. The floor lacked polish and uniformity in board shape and coloring. The few pieces of furniture and large quantities of books were all pushed against the walls, leaving plenty of room for a canvas and easel to sit in the center of the room. This was a place of work. Lady Dimitrescu, clad in an artist’s smock and with brush and palette in hand, gazed down at Magda in her usual authoritative fashion.

“What is your reason for wandering the halls of my castle at such a late hour, Miss Petran? I doubt that you are looking for clothing to repair.”

“I was looking...” she stopped and quickly corrected herself. “I was learning to find my way around the castle. It’s a large estate and I’d rather not get lost or open the wrong door.” Or get eaten, she thought.

“Could you not do this during the day?”

“I didn’t want to get in anyone’s way, mistress. I thought if I did it at night, most of the servants would be asleep, your daughters would be out hunting or otherwise occupied, and you would be…” Magda’s voice died in her throat as she looked down, not quite sure of what to say next.

“You thought I would be secreted away in my private chambers, busying myself with whatever womanly duties a lady of the house tended to do late at night. Is that it? Look at me when I am talking to you.” Magda’s head immediately snapped upward, fear likely showing in her eyes since an amused little smile, one with an edge to it, crept across Lady Dimitrescu’s deep red lips.

“Ma’am, I would never do something like that or presume anything about your nightly activities. I was not prowling or sneaking around. I was just exploring and figuring things out and I saw the light, so I came to look and then… I’m sorry, Mistress. I honestly didn’t mean to intrude.” The taller woman watched Magda for a long while, yellow eyes boring into her unwaveringly, before turning her attention back on the unfinished painting.

“Which is it?” she asked in a clipped manner, adding a few minute details to the wings of the angel depicted on her canvas.

“I beg your pardon?” Magda replied, confused.

“Throughout this entire conversation, you have used both ‘ma’am’ and ‘mistress’ when addressing me. Are you unable to make up your mind, child? Pick one or the other.” A few more brush strokes. “Now, which is it?” Magda was a bit lost. She didn’t know if this was a test or if she was simply making a mistake that needed to be corrected. Not knowing which was the better option, she went for a third choice.

“…Countess?” At that, the other woman paused and slowly turned to look at Magda once more, yellow eyes once again locked onto her, but this time her gaze was one of appraisal rather than judgement. This time her smile was one of satisfaction, as if saying ‘well, the mortal can be taught’. She then returned to her painting, the tension in the room having dissipated. However, Magda did note that she had not dismissed her. Whether this was another test, or the woman just enjoyed toying with her, she couldn’t say.

Rather than run the risk of spoiling the mood or the Countess’ artist moment, Magda took the time to quietly look around the room, taking in details she had previously missed; the large stuffed snapping turtles, the bell tower gears seen through the windows, and the immense portrait hanging in a ornate wood frame on the far wall.

You would think missing something like that upon entering would have been impossible, but then again, the subject in the painting was initially blocked by a living being of the exact same size. Now Magda could see it clearly, and it was gorgeous. It was the Countess, but perhaps a little younger. She still had a pink flush to her skin, still had life in her. No, that was wrong. Lady Dimitrescu ate, drank, and breathed like everyone else, but there was a difference that Magda couldn’t quite place.

The dress she wore was exquisite, and Magda took an unintended step forward before stopping herself. The Countess didn’t seem to have noticed, but she still decided to play it safe.

“Countess? That portrait… it’s you, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she replied with an amused half chuckle. “Unless you are aware of another woman of my stature.” She was clearly enjoying this. Good. Better an amused Countess than a wrathful one.

“May I take a closer look?” A gentle, almost absentminded, shooing motion with one hand was all the response that was given, but Magda took it as a yes, quickly walking over.

Up close, it was even more impressive that she originally thought. She had always been impressed by how artists managed to convey fabric and textures with simple strokes from a paintbrush. There were even minute wrinkles in the skirt. It was beautiful, absolutely stunning. Magda’s gaze hungrily devoured every detail she saw of this garment. At first she thought the fabric was a brocade, and from her initial distance, the mistake could be understood. The print was the proper size and detail for the material, but brocade would have been too heavy or stiff to have the folds of the skirt lay as they did.

“Floral damask?” she asked eagerly, not even thinking that she had just blurted out something in an otherwise quiet room.

“What?” came the terse response.

“The fabric, it’s a floral damask, isn’t it? Sterling gray and white.” Not even waiting for a confirmation, she went back to her examination. Too low a neckline for Victorian, also wrong hairstyle for the time. Late Victorian perhaps? Edwardian? That would make sense. At least she had a decade to work with, but Edwardian fashion changed every year of that decade. Either way, her mind was already clicking, and the desire to make or even see this garment had nestled itself thoroughly into her psyche, digging its damned little claws into her. Magda was like this when she saw a piece of clothing that intrigued her, flaming an odd passion inside of her. There was no way she would let this go so easily.

“Does the gown still exist?” she asked, turning around and looking unexpectedly at the Countess, who was now standing directly behind her. For a woman her size, it was unnerving how quietly she could move if she wished to.

“It intrigues you, doesn’t it?”

“I… If I can… I would love to make this. It’s twelve yards, at least, if that was when… if you were…” The Countess’ eyebrow quirked a little, and Magda immediately changed her wording, knowing it was a very bad idea to mention sizes, especially to her. “Historically, at least twelve yards of fabric would be needed for a Late Victorian or Edwardian dress like that. If… Countess, I know you think I’m babbling, but I believe I can recreate this gown for you. Please. I know I can.”

“Whether you can or cannot is not the issue, Miss Petran. The hour is late and I would rather not hear you prattle on about fabric or garments that have not been worn in quite some time. I believe I have indulged you for long enough. I suggest you retire back to your quarters for the night before you find yourself anywhere else in this castle.” It wasn’t quite a threat, but there was an edge to it, and the seamstress knew better than to test that edge.

“Yes, Countess,” she replied, giving her a bow before heading for the door, her mind still processing the gown.

“And Magdalena?” Magda froze upon hearing her first name spoken, a chill running down her spine. Why the sudden name change? Had she done something wrong? She was at the door, she could have simply continued on, feigning ignorance. But instead, she turned around, ready to face whatever faux pas she had unwittingly done. Alcina was still at the portrait, back to her.

“Yes, Countess?”

“Three days from now, I would like a tailoring session. Mid-afternoon. That is all.” It was good that she could not see Magda’s face, as her jaw went slack and she stared. Three days. She had three days to ready and prove herself. The workshop wasn’t a mess, per se, but she knew she could make it better for her visit.

“Yes, Countess. Absolutely.” Another bow, and she was gone. Magda may have just made herself useful.

#drabble #one shot #alcina dimitrescu

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