Linques fought me every goddamn step of the way on this. Here's an argument we had. (BTW, she's a figment, too).

LINQUES: "No! I won't do it! You need someone to whore for you, get TRISTAN to do it!

ME: "But, Linques, he came to me in a dream last night. He showed me your face. He's lonely, he wants me to draw you."

LINQUES: [huff. But she's really a sucker for Tristan]. "Fine. But you better make me look tough."

Later...

LINQUES: "I am not standing like that."

ME: "Do I need to invoke the T word again?"

LINQUES: [huff].

...

LINQUES: "What are you doing to my breasts?"

ME: "Drawing them."

LINQUES: "My breasts do not look like that."

ME: "They do now."

LINQUES: "I look like a skank!"

ME: "Well, if you'd smile every once in awhile-- and if, you know, your eyes weren't so scary."

LINQUES: [scary eyes] "I'm a fucking mage, you know."

Later...

LINQUES: "Well, you did a good job of capturing my 'Please Dear God Don't Piss Me Off' standard expression. But BLOODY HELL, what's with my hair?"

ME: "What can I tell you? Go to the Haircuttery instead of gnawing it off with your teeth."

LINQUES: [scary eyes] "I'm liking being your wish fulfillment less and less every day, you know. I still can't believe I'm standing like that."

ME: "Well, you're not my ideal self either, so deal. Besides, Tristan likes it."

LINQUES: [leaving] "Where is that bastard anyway? I swear to God, he is going to laugh his skinny ass off about this. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but I am going to get you for this."

Yeah, so now I have a hate-filled figment in my head. Sigh. Life is tough in Lynneland.