Mrs. Lovett wipes her hands nervously on her apron as she walks along the deck. Recently, she had burried herself in her kitchen work, drwoning out her other, less pleasant trains of thought. Revenge. The taste of human. Etc. Etc. This was her first day out in the sun in months. Her skin is paler than usual, and she seems a bit down, but
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"This," she reflects, "is really not all that bad."
OOC: Hope this thread is still open!
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