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Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but laugh too. He had a sense of grace and balance, he just had a tendency to not use it. "Sod off," he said, amused. "I can and will spill paint every way and any way. It's my space." It didn't stop him swiping at his nose to try and remove the offending paint. Sadly not quite all of it came away and he was left with a green smear.

"I, er, slept last night. On the sofa, for about six or seven hours, then I had coffee and a banana, and that might have been it," he said, racking his brain to see if he'd remembered to eat or drink since then and coming up blank. There might have been some water when he refilled his painting jar.

If it was evening he had a hunch he was going to start feeling it, and soon. "You know, that sounds like a good idea. Give me," he paused looking around, "Five minutes to clear up?" he said after assessing the assembled detritus of the last day or so.

He started immediately, pulling his wand out and casting a quick stasis charm on his painting-in-progress and began to move quickly through the process of clearing away with an ease which only came from years of practice.