3; voice

[noworldleft]

[Illyria is sitting in her room and dictating her painbow of emotions to her book because there is nothing better to do in her life. And the post-de-cupiding moping was getting boring.]

I have spent many days in my room [she pauses to decide on the word she wants to use, and then spits it out with disgust:] grieving. I have done violence, but it

Comments

[painhumbles]

A lot of girls try throwing up.

[noworldleft]

Rude heathen. That is not the type of purging I speak of.

[painhumbles]

Then do what the rest of female society does- eat ice cream and watch chick flicks.

[noworldleft]

I don't comprehend the meaning of the words falling out of your mouth.

[painhumbles]

Okay. I'll make it simple.

Ask the castle for a pint of ice cream. And a spoon.

[noworldleft]

Are my words cascading upon deaf ears?

[painhumbles]

Yes. Now ask the castle for some damn ice cream, princess.

[noworldleft]

[Five seconds later ... ]

What do I do with it?

[painhumbles]

You eat it.

[noworldleft]

[give her awhile.]

It is oozing on me.

[painhumbles]

It's melting. Eat it faster.

[noworldleft]

I am not finding comfort.

[painhumbles]

Ask the castle for, uh... I dunno. Pretty in Pink on TV. Eat, watch, be merry.

[noworldleft]

You speak madness and nonsense.

[painhumbles]

No, I speak chick. And congratulations, babe. You are one.

[noworldleft]

I am a god!