Give me strength (open)
Dec 9, 2010 7:17:57 GMT -5
Post by Anastasia van Drakke on Dec 9, 2010 7:17:57 GMT -5
The house reeked of dogs. Her nose wrinkled and the sudden urge to kick at the great dane near her feet swelled up like a wave. Her foot, clad in the bronze swede boot that hugged her calf, twitched. But Anastasia knew now, from past experience, how Gabe felt about anyone touching his dogs. It had been a harmless comment; she had only suggested his Dalmatian had the perfect coat to make a great handbag out of. He had not appreciated it.
Anastasia was not her normal immaculate self, it could be said. Her makeup was simple, the eyeliner slightly smudged from the heels of her palms. Darker blonde roots were showing under the usual golden blonde of her hair, which was unkept and not in the stylish way.”Hello?” she snapped out into the seemingly empty hall. ”Gabriel? Jake? Reese?”
Perfect teeth dug into her lip as she frowned. A muscle under her eye twitched. ”Fifi?” she tried, the words bitter. There was one reason she would settle for seeing that girl right now. With a strained sigh, she pushed out her awareness to let it settle over the building, trying to pinpoint someone who was, well, firstly above the age of twenty. God. someone with a bit of tranquility, or someone calm, or....
God she wanted Ivan to be back.
”For gods sake, where is everyone?” She snapped, tugging at her hair impatiently. ”I was not aware syndicates bent on global dominance took a Christmas break!” The muscles in her neck were tense, her jaw was tight, and her knuckles whitened as she clutched her Prada bag under one arm. A dog barked again, a sharp little yap like that stupid thing Paris always insisted on carrying. Stupid bitch. That Hilton blonde needed to get her pheromone manipulation under control if she ever wanted anyone to be able to stand near her without wanting to either fuck her brains out or hit her with a shovel.
Anastasia was not her normal immaculate self, it could be said. Her makeup was simple, the eyeliner slightly smudged from the heels of her palms. Darker blonde roots were showing under the usual golden blonde of her hair, which was unkept and not in the stylish way.”Hello?” she snapped out into the seemingly empty hall. ”Gabriel? Jake? Reese?”
Perfect teeth dug into her lip as she frowned. A muscle under her eye twitched. ”Fifi?” she tried, the words bitter. There was one reason she would settle for seeing that girl right now. With a strained sigh, she pushed out her awareness to let it settle over the building, trying to pinpoint someone who was, well, firstly above the age of twenty. God. someone with a bit of tranquility, or someone calm, or....
God she wanted Ivan to be back.
”For gods sake, where is everyone?” She snapped, tugging at her hair impatiently. ”I was not aware syndicates bent on global dominance took a Christmas break!” The muscles in her neck were tense, her jaw was tight, and her knuckles whitened as she clutched her Prada bag under one arm. A dog barked again, a sharp little yap like that stupid thing Paris always insisted on carrying. Stupid bitch. That Hilton blonde needed to get her pheromone manipulation under control if she ever wanted anyone to be able to stand near her without wanting to either fuck her brains out or hit her with a shovel.
