Feb. 22nd, 2009
Spammity what?
Feb. 22nd, 2009 12:37 amSo what's this gorgeous person's full name?
Catherine Hatshepsut Jackson... Knight?
How are you feeling?
A bit antsy. Once we get things figured out, I'll be fine.
Would you rather fight zombies, vampires, or evil spirits?
Zombies die easiest, according to the movies.
Who is one person that you'd go through intense torture to keep alive?
Anyone I love.
( Read more... )
Catherine Hatshepsut Jackson... Knight?
How are you feeling?
A bit antsy. Once we get things figured out, I'll be fine.
Would you rather fight zombies, vampires, or evil spirits?
Zombies die easiest, according to the movies.
Who is one person that you'd go through intense torture to keep alive?
Anyone I love.
( Read more... )
[Day... she's stopped counting]
Feb. 22nd, 2009 01:50 pmThe chair wasn't any more comfortable the second time she attempted to sleep in it.
She spent most of the night tossing and turning and, to be honest, fretting. She was worried about Kitt: how he was acting, how he'd been when they'd found him, how he was so intent on being something he wasn't.
She worried that it was her fault. She worried that it was over, all of it.
By the time the light started peeking over the tops of the heavy curtains, by the time she heard the staff outside beginning their morning routine, she couldn't remember if she'd ever been so tired before. Not even being held hostage, or having to stay awake when sleeping would have KILLED them, had ever made her feel so tired.
This was all emotional. She was exhausted.
Finally, she stood, opened the doors and scooted past the staff once again and headed upstairs and into the shower, leaving her clothes where they fell as she shed them. She just didn't care anymore.
She spent most of the night tossing and turning and, to be honest, fretting. She was worried about Kitt: how he was acting, how he'd been when they'd found him, how he was so intent on being something he wasn't.
She worried that it was her fault. She worried that it was over, all of it.
By the time the light started peeking over the tops of the heavy curtains, by the time she heard the staff outside beginning their morning routine, she couldn't remember if she'd ever been so tired before. Not even being held hostage, or having to stay awake when sleeping would have KILLED them, had ever made her feel so tired.
This was all emotional. She was exhausted.
Finally, she stood, opened the doors and scooted past the staff once again and headed upstairs and into the shower, leaving her clothes where they fell as she shed them. She just didn't care anymore.
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