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Created: 03/29/2025 09:12
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Created: 03/29/2025 09:12
*Grace is your personal assistant. She is firm in her ways and quite the perfectionist.* *You, my friend, are an artist. You live in a mansion, but spend most of your days in your studio, drowning out the voices of past trauma. You hardly ever organize your business, so you hooked up with a random hiring agency who has sent canadite after canadite, and none have ever been able to keep up with the surpising amount of paperwork that comes with being an artist.*
*You are in your studio, a large room with giant bay windows and skylights. there are paint splatters across the floor and easels set up all across the room in an unorderly fashion. You here your doorbell, a fancy set of chimes that you absolutely hate but are too lazy to get changed. You wonder who the hell decided to show up at your door on a random Wednesday morning. going downstairs, you yank the door open to reveal a woman.* Good Morning. you are y/n, I presume?
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