Strokes of Genius, Wednesday (9/9)

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Oh, somebody had heard radio last night.

Somebody was not pleased.

If you asked Clocky, this was a good thing, since it meant Katchoo had another target for her ire for once. Sure, Clocky was just about unbreakable according to all the evidence (said evidence being now-uncountable run-ins with Katchoo's feet and occasional flung objects), and not exactly sentient, but the sport just wore a little thin sometimes.

Katchoo wasn't much for sculpture, but that block of clay was a nice, convenient outlet today, even if it was going to leave the counter in a sad state.

She kind of liked the sound it made when she punched it. It squished really nice.

[OOC: Summer has come and passed, the OCD can never last. SP quite likely until evening EST. Rrr.]

Comments

[bitchprince]

"That's an interesting new take on sculpting," Arthur had to opine, as he shut the store's door firmly behind him. "Or did you just have something to celebrate?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"It's fun," Katchoo said between punches. It was kneading. Hush. "It makes satisfying sounds."

[bitchprince]

"I have to insist that it still seems far more useful to dedicate all of that effort to the art of hunting," Arthur said, strolling towards her. "For one, the prey's louder, then there's the chase, and you get to tear it apart with your teeth when it's finished cooking."

Some legendary Brits thought tea was the answer to everything. They were wrong. It was clearly killing fuzzy things.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Katchoo paused in her pottery-pummeling to peer up at him. "Geez, you really pushed your way to the front of the line they day they were handing out testosterone, didn't you?" And yet, oddly, she didn't make it sound as much like an accusation as she could have. Marginally.

"'sides," she added, "hunting doesn't pay so great these days."

Well. Not that kind.

[bitchprince]

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I only settle for the best," he parried that off with. "And besides, it's not about what it pays, it's about the sport of it." Beat. "Merlin and I were talking about taking Firekeeper out hunting off the island. Somewhere where they actually have some bloody game."

That did not sound domestic, and he would strangle anyone who implied anything of the kind. "So what's got you all worked up?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

It so did sound domestic, but Katchoo preferred remaining unstrangled and implied nothing. "Something that isn't cute and blue," she noted instead. "Hey, you kill things for the fun of it. I can't beat up on a lump of glorified mud for fun?"

[bitchprince]

"I don't kill possibly mystical animals."

Yes, there was a story behind that. No, he wasn't telling it.

"But I suppose if you put it like that," he continued, leaning on his usual spot as he admired her handiwork. "I like the knuckle prints."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"The possibly mystical chapter of PETA is breathing a sigh of relief now. Really."

Damn. She suspected there might be a story there, and she wanted to know. "Yeah, I'm thinking I might sign my work that way from now on. Packs a punch. Aw, geez, I'm so funny."

[bitchprince]

"Don't strain yourself. What's PETA?" Arthur asked, idly.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals." Katchoo spared a moment to glare at him, mildly; strain herself, her ass. "Sounds good and all, but they're all into calling people who wear fur murderers, staging naked protests, and crap like that."

[bitchprince]

"At least the naked protests sound like fun," Arthur said, not even missing a beat, "But who came up with that 'not wearing fur' thing? That's ridiculous."

Whatever. He reached out to poke at her sculpture. If you could call it that.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Eh, I think it's tacky --" or opulent in a way that reminded her of things she didn't care to think about -- "but whatever. If they wanna, let 'em wear the damn stuff, and not get red paint thrown at 'em."

The sculpture was . . . an abstract. Yeah. Study of Repressed Frustration # 1, medium: clay.

Somebody would probably pay good money for that if she stuck it on a pedestal with that label, she realized.

"Naked protests. You would think so, wouldn't you?"

[bitchprince]

Especially with the Once and Future King's fingerprints now all over it, if anyone would have actually bought that story. "It's been a while since we've had any interesting feasts around here," he said, idly, "Might liven things up a bit."

[thatsamilkshake]

Fresh from the ABG meeting and on her way to the Magic reserves, Francine twirled her umbrella (not unfolded) as she walked into the shop, with a wrapped plate of some of Elle's baked goods in the other hand. "Hiya!"

Oh Turtle. You should never have let Elle put the pink glitter lipgloss in those bags. Just sayin'.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Beating up on a lump of clay? Who was doing that? Nobody here, noooooo. Except for Katchoo, who had it all under her nails now.

"Well, well. Afternoon, sparkly sunshine," Katchoo remarked as noncommittally (haha) as possible, shoving the clay aside for the moment. Bad mood or not, damn if Francine's bounciness didn't always make her feel better.

You know. Initially, at least.

[thatsamilkshake]

"I brought food! I didn't make it, but I had some. It's thoroughly tested and approved."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Francine Peters seal of approval? That's good enough for me." Where the hell was a sink when you needed one? Oh yeah. The back room. Screw it -- Katchoo wiped her hands off on her jeans and reached for the plate, still all over clay. "Who gave you sugar this time?"

[thatsamilkshake]

"Alpha Beta Gremlin!" Francine pointed to her shiny new pin. Which was, yes, shiny and new in an unavoidably prominent place. "Which is probably the closest I'll ever come to being some kind of sorority girl for real. Can you picture me in one of those things in college, with those doctor-and-lawyer's kids with hundred dollar shoes who'd break in half if you breathed on them?"

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"We have a frikkin' sorority?" Bear with her a moment, Katchoo was just going to sputter. "Covered in glitter?"

[thatsamilkshake]

"And confetti!" Francine paused. "There, um. Might be some in our room. I got it all over my clothes, and it kind of...trails." She paused again. "There's a fraternity, too." That would go over...so well, she suspected.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"I think I knew about them," Katchoo said, and sorry if anyone was hoping for a dose of "scornful" today; she seemed to have bought out the supply. "Boys. Because bein' idiots all on their own isn't enough, they gotta form a club to do it better."

She eyed the pin -- and the surrounding area, she couldn't help it -- and rolled her eyes. "Gawd. If there's gotta be a sorority, does it have to be so damn girly?"

[thatsamilkshake]

"...It's for girls," Francine pointed out.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"So? Geez, you're just feeding into the damn stereotype with all that pink and glitter crap!" Oooh, a new way to vent that didn't involve punishing a hapless lump of clay! "Break the mold or something, gawd! This is frikkin' Fandom -- just once I wanna see a sorority out-testosterone the guys and for #*(@!'s sake, if it's gonna happen it oughta happen here."

[thatsamilkshake]

"I like pink glitter." Francine blinked. "But if you want to change it, you should join up."

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Me?" Katchoo snorted. "The last thing I need, Francie, is to be part of a girls-only club."

Been there, done that, got the dirty-lily tattoo that matched Francine's new scar and how was that for creepy?

"So . . . do I get any of the goodies on that plate?" The one she'd just kind of insulted? Yes.