sorrowandsorrow: (eyeroll)
Fuck it. Janet's stuck in purgatory. She may as well use this time to brush up on the things that actually matter to her. Those things, in no particular order, are: Eliot, welters, magic, ruling Fillory, kicking ass, and judging first lest she be judged.

Right now, she's practicing magic. It makes her feel like a first year again, but who's going to know that? She hasn't seen a single other Brakebills graduate here. This is a spell that saved her sanity, if not her life, and she sure as shit better be positive she can cast it even outside of Fillory, outside of the desert.

Woven Strength at full power, she's in one of the lounges with a stack of weights, experimenting with how far she can take it. She's grinning, because she has a giant barbell with weights stacked on either end, a couple hundred pounds easy, and she's picking it up with one hand like it's nothing.
sorrowandsorrow: (magic time)
It's probably been noted before, but Janet's not actually dumb. The people of this mansion are varied and mercurial. They're not like Fillorians, some of whom are little bitches but who were largely cow-eyed and willing to accept her authority just because she was a pretty girl from another world.

So. She has to win people over. Maybe everyone needs a little fun to take their minds off things. Conveniently, welters is absolutely Janet's idea of fun. There's a bunch of insane rules, violence is encouraged, and you win if you're good at magic and being bossy.

The mansion grounds are also a little tempestuous as to their character, but apparently the master magician toying with all their lives is feeling charitable today. She's found a big, flat stretch of undisturbed grass, and she's sketching out welters squares with a piece of chalk.

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Janet Pluchinsky

June 2024

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