Kitty Pryde (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
st_alksthroughwalls) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
strangetrip2017-08-30 05:05 pm
st_alksthroughwalls) wrote in strangetrip2017-08-30 05:05 pm
Entry tags:
[GP] Check-In Day!
Thwack.
A damp bar rag hit the wall with a wet splat and Kitty's dry hand raked through her hair, stopping at the crown and tugging. ARGH! She muttered and loosed a low, rolling growl beneath her breath, kicked a fallen napkin she hadn't yet picked up so hard it, too, hit the wall.
Closing her eyes, she gave a slow ten-count and exhaled. Her shoulders lowered visibly, and then as mildly as though she'd had nothing to do with the fabric-wall collisions, moved to retrieve them. The only continuing sign of her distress was the intermittent grumbling and an occasional snarl, like:
"Stark, I swear to God, I'm going to wring you neck!"
Or ring it, since manacles, shackles and collars were the current subject of her frustration and she simply assumed he'd had a hand in designing the ones in question.
By mid-afternoon, unless you knew her very well, or you happened to look at page after page of notes with a single, decisive hash mark through each of them, you'd never guess anything had ruffled her feathers at all.
[OOC: I'm kinda swamped, so Kitty's not OTA, but if you want her, feel free to poke me!]
A damp bar rag hit the wall with a wet splat and Kitty's dry hand raked through her hair, stopping at the crown and tugging. ARGH! She muttered and loosed a low, rolling growl beneath her breath, kicked a fallen napkin she hadn't yet picked up so hard it, too, hit the wall.
Closing her eyes, she gave a slow ten-count and exhaled. Her shoulders lowered visibly, and then as mildly as though she'd had nothing to do with the fabric-wall collisions, moved to retrieve them. The only continuing sign of her distress was the intermittent grumbling and an occasional snarl, like:
"Stark, I swear to God, I'm going to wring you neck!"
Or ring it, since manacles, shackles and collars were the current subject of her frustration and she simply assumed he'd had a hand in designing the ones in question.
By mid-afternoon, unless you knew her very well, or you happened to look at page after page of notes with a single, decisive hash mark through each of them, you'd never guess anything had ruffled her feathers at all.
[OOC: I'm kinda swamped, so Kitty's not OTA, but if you want her, feel free to poke me!]