[Red. In-your-face red. Both figuratively and literally, as the Forge is pressed up against the bright red wood of - welp, it's hard to say what it is until the camera pulls back to reveal that it's a place to sit. Or to put stuff (namely baskety stuff) - and it's attached to what looks like the
bastard child of a clock and a unicycle.
(static)And
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[And she's not all that glum for a moment. It fades, though.]
What kind?
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...what's a beautification committee? And are they mystic? The falls, I mean.
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[Derp.]
---this place could use some cleaning up. Of the non-seems-to-heal-itself kind.
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What? Really?
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