Living Room, 33 Apocalypse, Saturday afternoon
The flying dustcloths and dancing vacuum cleaner that greeted Melody when she left her room today were perhaps slightly disconcerting, but Melody barely blinked.
She was having too much fun pretending to be a Disney Princess and singing to direct them about (Under the table, fast as you're able, now up the stairs, and behind those chairs). It had no effect on them, but it still half-fulfilled a fantasy. To complete it, she'd need birds and mice to help, but neither appeared.
The scrub-brush that tried to make order of her hair was a bit disconcerting. Good thing scowling at the brush and pulling her hair into a scrunchy forced it to retreat into the kitchen.
[OOC: Open.]
She was having too much fun pretending to be a Disney Princess and singing to direct them about (Under the table, fast as you're able, now up the stairs, and behind those chairs). It had no effect on them, but it still half-fulfilled a fantasy. To complete it, she'd need birds and mice to help, but neither appeared.
The scrub-brush that tried to make order of her hair was a bit disconcerting. Good thing scowling at the brush and pulling her hair into a scrunchy forced it to retreat into the kitchen.
[OOC: Open.]