third new york minute;
[Lily is outside today, sitting on the grass outside the doors of the castle. Her journal is open beside her, so she can monitor it, and she has a small easel set up in front of her. She also has one (1) completely blank canvas and one (1) unopened pack of charcoal pencils in her lap. She's not so much looking at the canvas as she is staring past it, like she spaced out. Art doesn't come easily when you try to force it, especially when there's a magical castle running interference.
She drums her fingers on the journal absently.]
... Oh, I give up.
[Give her something else to do?]
((open in person or over the journal, whatever floats your dinghy!))
She drums her fingers on the journal absently.]
... Oh, I give up.
[Give her something else to do?]
((open in person or over the journal, whatever floats your dinghy!))