Room 505, Tuesday Afternoon

[thismaskiwear]

With so few classes to take up much of her week, and no work until tomorrow, Katchoo had turned to her favorite pastime. You know, the one that wasn't pining after Francine. Her easel was set up by the bed, the windows wide open to sort of do something about the paint fumes and cigarette smoke (Clocky was totally equipped to chase off the fire marshal or something, really), and the stereo was cranking one of her very well-worn Griffin Silver CDs.

You could say she had some residual frustrations to work out and was doing that through painting.

. . . and then you could look at the stack of canvases that was threatening to eat her closet, and strike the word 'residual.'

[OOC: For that guy with the ears, and the roomie if she wants, but open too. This post, which was supposed to go up hours ago, is yet another victim of my Swiss-cheese brain today. Sigh.]

Comments

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

Merlin laughed, shaking his head. "It's nothing you need to thank me for. It's just--you'd do the same."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"You know," Katchoo said, "I would, actually. Might be a little less flashy, though."

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

"We can't all be wise wizards," Merlin granted her magnanimously.