I will still be here, stargazing
If you already don't want to be doing something, and then that something becomes worse than you imagined because of course it does, well it kind of puts you in a bad mood. Iskra began to sputter like a candle flame in the wind, aware all too quickly that his wall-mopping efforts were equally pointless. To be fair, an actual scrub brush would have been a bit more useful than a mop, but still, it felt like this place didn't want to be clean. If that was the case, why was Iskra forcing it really? Couldn't they all just go to the bar...
Slamming the mop into the bucket with a frustrated splash, Iskra paced the room briefly, seething as he squinted at the walls. At this time Deimos announced an idea for assistance, the ripple of magic coursing through the air, billowing around Iskra as it wriggled into each and every pocket of the rooms. Iskra flexed his palm open and shut, aware not for the first time, and likely not the last, that his lack of training in his magic was often a detriment in this life. Perhaps he ought to chop less wood and crack open more books...
Well, self-improvement could come after this damn room's improvement, if he'd ever make it out of here. Grabbing his original tool, the broom, once again he tackled the walls, pausing sooner to see if it was a worthwhile attempt before draining himself again.
Meanwhile, Goose's attention was drawn to Deimos as the drying happened, giving him a lack of focus on the Ningo right as it dived down. He only caught it at the tail end and by then scrambled to dodge, startled more than actually scared, but a high-pitched yelp escaping nonetheless.
- - - -
Iskra tries to sweep the walls now that they've dried and Goose is startled by the Ningo.
Slamming the mop into the bucket with a frustrated splash, Iskra paced the room briefly, seething as he squinted at the walls. At this time Deimos announced an idea for assistance, the ripple of magic coursing through the air, billowing around Iskra as it wriggled into each and every pocket of the rooms. Iskra flexed his palm open and shut, aware not for the first time, and likely not the last, that his lack of training in his magic was often a detriment in this life. Perhaps he ought to chop less wood and crack open more books...
Well, self-improvement could come after this damn room's improvement, if he'd ever make it out of here. Grabbing his original tool, the broom, once again he tackled the walls, pausing sooner to see if it was a worthwhile attempt before draining himself again.
Meanwhile, Goose's attention was drawn to Deimos as the drying happened, giving him a lack of focus on the Ningo right as it dived down. He only caught it at the tail end and by then scrambled to dodge, startled more than actually scared, but a high-pitched yelp escaping nonetheless.
- - - -
Iskra tries to sweep the walls now that they've dried and Goose is startled by the Ningo.
Iskra
