08-07-2012, 06:16 AM
The D'Neville mansion was foreboding to Myrika. While she enjoyed its halls and its library most of all, the redhead could not imagine attempting to live within the mansion. It was stuffy in summer and cold in winter, and its innards smelled distinctively of must and old, strange human scents. She much preferred her schoolhouse -- it was a stone and brick building, and its floors linoleum rather than carpet. The schoolhouse was in relatively better condition, too. While all of the windows had been busted out long before she moved in, the leather covers she'd created had resolved that problem rather elegantly.
The mansion, on the other hand, had more problems than it did redeeming features. One wing was still half-infested with critters and creatures. Entire rooms had been destroyed, the furniture and whatever cloth and bedding shredded as nesting materials for these critters. Another had suffered damage in the winters past, and still other parts were simply sagging, cracking, or coming apart at the seams. Myri did not know how to begin to address these problems -- she was no carpenter, and an entire team of carpenters seemed like too few to tackle this mess.
The tall redhead stood in the lobby room, hands on her hips. Her turquoise eyes regarded the sagging steps up to the second floor, and she glanced toward the ceiling. Though once white, it was more gray and even cream colored in places. One corner was stained brown -- waterstains, she assumed -- and a crack ran across the area closest to the stairs.
The mansion, on the other hand, had more problems than it did redeeming features. One wing was still half-infested with critters and creatures. Entire rooms had been destroyed, the furniture and whatever cloth and bedding shredded as nesting materials for these critters. Another had suffered damage in the winters past, and still other parts were simply sagging, cracking, or coming apart at the seams. Myri did not know how to begin to address these problems -- she was no carpenter, and an entire team of carpenters seemed like too few to tackle this mess.
The tall redhead stood in the lobby room, hands on her hips. Her turquoise eyes regarded the sagging steps up to the second floor, and she glanced toward the ceiling. Though once white, it was more gray and even cream colored in places. One corner was stained brown -- waterstains, she assumed -- and a crack ran across the area closest to the stairs.