{001}. ♀ {Location : Mansion, First Floor, Lobby} :: This ain't no cream puff, babycakes ::
"Okay, and we gotta get these out before lunchtime!" She raised an arm to wipe across her brow, with what little skin didn't have flour on it already. Her eyes closed. The sudden quiet that settled made her a little worried. No ovens clanging, no feet scuffling, no voices. Pesha opened her eyes, and her arm dropped to the side. She still had the piping tube in her other hand. When she saw her surroundings, she just about dropped it. "Uhhh."
Her face screwed up into a very confused, very unhappy sneer. "Now just where in the'ell'm'I at?!"
A very friendly woman at a desk smiled at her. "Welcome to the city of El Dorado, Miss Sheppard," she chimed... in the most obnoxiously sing-songy voice Pesha had ever heard. Her irritation level spiked. This wasn't funny.
"The city of where? And how's'it you know m'name?" Pesha crinkled her face even more, a look of sheer disbelief on her face.
"We've been expecting you, Miss. The Gods have deemed you worthy. Your accommodations are all prepared," she spoke calmly, as if completely unaffected by anything Pesha was saying or doing. How could someone be so calm when the other end of the conversation was about to explode with anger?
"Gods? Worthy? Uhh- you definitely have th'wrong girl, sug'," she spat back. It was really hard to talk to this woman. The desk was way too tall. She huffed angrily as a key and gold-plated phone (she thought it was a phone, anyway) were pushed toward her. "I tell ya," she dusted her hands off on her apron and placed them on the counter, pushing herself up a bit more and leaning against the desk enough to see better, "You got the wrong dame."
"No, Miss, everything is in proper order. Your needs have been taken care of."
Like hell they have. "Thanks, a'guess," she groaned, grabbing the key and phone and looking down at both. What in the name of Luna was going on here? Distressed and confused, a dough-and-flour covered Pesha looked around the room for someone, anyone, who might be a little more helpful than Daisy Sunshine there at the desk. "What th'hell's goin' on?"
Her face screwed up into a very confused, very unhappy sneer. "Now just where in the'ell'm'I at?!"
A very friendly woman at a desk smiled at her. "Welcome to the city of El Dorado, Miss Sheppard," she chimed... in the most obnoxiously sing-songy voice Pesha had ever heard. Her irritation level spiked. This wasn't funny.
"The city of where? And how's'it you know m'name?" Pesha crinkled her face even more, a look of sheer disbelief on her face.
"We've been expecting you, Miss. The Gods have deemed you worthy. Your accommodations are all prepared," she spoke calmly, as if completely unaffected by anything Pesha was saying or doing. How could someone be so calm when the other end of the conversation was about to explode with anger?
"Gods? Worthy? Uhh- you definitely have th'wrong girl, sug'," she spat back. It was really hard to talk to this woman. The desk was way too tall. She huffed angrily as a key and gold-plated phone (she thought it was a phone, anyway) were pushed toward her. "I tell ya," she dusted her hands off on her apron and placed them on the counter, pushing herself up a bit more and leaning against the desk enough to see better, "You got the wrong dame."
"No, Miss, everything is in proper order. Your needs have been taken care of."
Like hell they have. "Thanks, a'guess," she groaned, grabbing the key and phone and looking down at both. What in the name of Luna was going on here? Distressed and confused, a dough-and-flour covered Pesha looked around the room for someone, anyone, who might be a little more helpful than Daisy Sunshine there at the desk. "What th'hell's goin' on?"