Nov 29, 2009 14:43
[Filter: Private]
[A rather loud, rather angry scream.]
You know what? Fuck. My. Life.
[Filter: Public]
[The secrets were the last straw and now she's pissed. It's quite obvious how angry she is, but there are moments where her voice breaks a little, as if she's about to burst into tears any second. She doesn't, however, and the volume of the post is kept up all the way through. In between bouts of ranting, you can here footsteps stomping down stairs. She's got to channel her anger into something and storming down eleven flights of stairs seems a perfectly good medium]
I don't know what I prefer more. Being passed around like a parcel or a rag doll and having people drop dead left, right and centre of me. Or being here.
That was uncalled for-- No, it wasn't. You all dropped dead at some point.
Great to know everything I love dies. Just, great.
I'm going to stay in a hotel for a while. This gods-be-damned place is really starting to get to me.
[She pauses and then says finally, frustrated for not stopping when she did.]
Sorry.
[All responses from Andromache are voice ones.]