Home of Ms Paint
Ms. Paint roleplay blog, part of the Borgatabent timeline.


   Slick stops after a while. He isn’t sure of the time but he is satisfied. He rests his hands on his laps and let out a sigh. He hasn’t been so relaxed for a long time. 

   He stands up to walk away, and he realises Paint is still there. He has no idea she will listen to the whole thing. It lasted what, an hour? 

 ”I’m done,” said Slick.

Paint’s eyes fluttered open at his abrupt announcement, as though she almost hadn’t noticed it was over, savoring the last few notes that seemed to hang in the air.


She got up from her seat, and clapped gently, grinning.

"Thank you so much, Boss…that was wonderful…you’re even better than they said. Please play for me again sometime! That would make me very happy! It’s nice to see you enjoying yourself for once…"


My first attempt at making a gif and my first movie with the new camera. Hopefully everything works. 


My first attempt at making a gif and my first movie with the new camera. Hopefully everything works. 


>it’s really difficult. Either for him to play the piano again or to focus with that intense stares of hers. Slick sits down in front of the piano. He touches the ivories, attempting to get used to his old instrument buddy again.

As his fingers knock on a few notes, the speed gets faster and there are melodies. Slick is having fun getting to know his piano again. It is no longer something unfamiliar to him.

He pauses after his little warm up, and starts to play a jazz tune. It progress from slow to fast, from relaxed to active. Slick knows what he is doing.

And he forgets about the girl watching and goes on for another twenty minutes.

As promised, Paint falls silent, and doesn’t make a sound once he starts. It’s been a long time since she’s just sat and enjoyed music like this. It reminds her of Prospit, where the castle hallf were ever filled with melodies, light, and laughter.

She gets a rare peaceful look as she shuts her eyes and listens.


>AND he turns back. Someone may have encouraged him to do so and he shall. As if it isn’t the point already.

[when did she get a chair?]

>walks back to the piano and starts cleaning it a a bit until it shines. It’s slicks best buddy. Was. And it IS again!

Look, I have no idea what you want from me. All I wanna do is to play this thing again.

>looks at Paint and says that almost a bit nervously.

> She got a chair at some point because she has been waiting here for Slick to come out of his room and maybe play for like an hour or two and declared it ‘stakeout training’ because crazy woman.

What I want from you? Don’t be silly that’s exactly what I want! I’m here because I wanted to hear you play!

Don’t worry I’ll be quiet!

Just pretend I’m not here!



>Walks to the piano with a cleaning rag so he can wipe the dust off. He sees Paint and immediately turns around. 


> If Paint had a tail it would be wagging.

Hey boss, are you here to play the pia-

> Aaaand away he goes.


Private numbskulls


"Yeah, big lovable oaf aint ‘e, ‘ow many times ‘as ‘e insisted on huggin’ ya? Can ya still count ‘em on yer hands? ‘a can only count up t’ nine m’ self!"

He held up his hands at that, showing the missing finger on his left gloved hand. He bent the empty finger-sleeve back just to show her, giggling morbidly whilst he did so; thank god he wasn’t a children’s entertainer.

"Lost it in a bit of an adventurous experiment ‘a mine, needless t’ say the others don’t mind bringin’ it up over ‘n over again, it was in HQ after all!”

"Heehee. He certainly is a huggy sort of fellow isn’t he? He is pretty well equipped for it."

Paint giggled but her eyes widened with interest as she realized a fingers worth of one of Deuce’s gloves was rather empty. Ahh, so he was missing a finger there.

Considering his profession she immediately suspected a mishap involving explosives, and quickly had her theory confirmed.

"Dear me, that must have been quite the mess. But I’m sure you’re a bit more careful nowadays…"

(Source: classyprospitianpaint)

Private numbskulls


Wait? Y’mean now? Nah, not here, ‘n not today. It’s m’ first day back after all, lemme settle in a bit first. Got some people in the city I have t’ talk t’, gotta make sure people ‘av been doin’ their jobs. ‘a know yer determined miss, but ‘a think ya can understand yer not exactly on the top ‘a m’ list a things given we are runnin’ a crime business after all.”

He smiled apologetically in case he’d let her down, he really needed to get back into the swing of things before he started educating any new recruits.

“‘How’s Heart’s treatin’ ya by the way, what about Droog? Slick’s pretty obvious…”

She nodded, a little relieved. This was something she sort of wanted to prepare for mentally anyhow.

"Of course."

Not at the top of her list because this was a crime business? What was he implying? Gosh if he thought she wasn’t a ‘real’ criminal, those murders were going to come as a nasty shock. I mean what.

"Hearts is wonderful. We’re good friends. Droog only just returned recently like you. I haven’t gotten the chance to speak to him much…"

(Source: classyprospitianpaint)

Private numbskulls


“‘m talkin about up ‘ere.”

He tapped his head for clarification.

"There might be situations in which ya gonna have t’ interrogate people, ‘specially if yer goin’ for the Felt’s big bad boss, ‘n this might be on the spot, ya gotta learn t’ take an opportunity fer information when ya see it."

He took a step back now, giving the woman her personal space once more.

"There’s people that yer gonna have t’ go through before ya get t’ English, if ya take ‘im head on then some mook is just gonna turn up outta the blue and usurp that empire ‘a his. This is all stuff we can chat about another time though, no need t’ get into it now!"

"I see."

Paint nodded grimly. To be honest those were things she would rather not have to learn. Defending oneself was one thing, fighting was one thing…but torture was different. Very much so.

She knew what torture was like. And what it did to someone. Honestly she’d far prefer getting them to see reason without such ugly methods. If only that were always possible…

But, she reminded herself, there was no guarantee she’d ever have to use this information. And now was not the time to reveal that for the moment, she didn’t care very much if a Felt replaced English as long as English was dead. (Although she would very much prefer it wasn’t Scratch.)

"Understood. Alright. Teach me how to convince a man to tell me what he knows."

(Source: classyprospitianpaint)


This little guy nearly got himself bitchslapped out a window. She’s still a little unsure of him.

But now that Paint seems to have convinced him how profoundly unflinchingly determined she is to see her goals through, she thinks (or at least hopes) they’ll get along just fine.

Now if only she can convince Slick of the same…


Paint trusts Hearts Boxcars more than anyone else alive. He’s done more to help with her anxieties than anyone else so far, and if it weren’t for him, she would still be in a much worse place.

She appreciates immensely that he assures her that her goals aren’t crazy and that her anger is justified, even when he’s trying to get her to calm down, breathe, and I dunno maybe sleep sometime. Shhh. Shoooosh.

He’s helped her start to get over both her guilt and fear, assuring her that no matter what happens, he will never hand her back over to the Felt. He’s made her feel like just maybe she can afford to let her guard down and start thinking of the Crew as a family.

She’s still scared of those things because for a very long time, the moment she started truly growing attached to anything was the moment it would be taken away from her.

But he makes her feel like it’ll be worth it to try again.