Feb. 14th, 2012

halfbrokenwings: (linefaceatyou)
Classy.

N't only the beating hearts inna jar gag- but the number of idiots repeating the same thing.

We got'it. Now. Get ov'r it.

It's n't like yur dead an' walking around, or staring at yur own bloody headless corpse- isit now?

[That was Isabella's voice: bitter, jaded and full of contempt. The accent is an older one, heard rarely at all and harking back to the time she spent at the orphanage.

She's too bitter and bitchy to do much today except perhaps try and fly, and can be seen on the Green stretching her wings out and trying to get off the ground. The twinges of pain almost feel good.

She's in a sour mood. Won't you go bug her?

ooc: she left the heart in her room this morning. She didn't want anything to happen to it after what happened with the pumpkins. Clearly this was not best plan.]

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February 2012

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