The early Sunday morning silence in Longacre is broken suddenly by a low groan. That quickly turns into someone trying to suppress a scream - not out of horror, but... frustration?]
I'm a fucking idiot!
[Once... That has settled, Cassandra heads outside for the morning, mainly towards the gayseball field where, coincidentally, her horse, Fidella is currently staying.]
Hey, girl. [She pats Fidella's snout. The horse, seemingly noticing her rider's forlornness, shuffles against her hand with a huff.]
No, I'm fine. I just... I have a lot to think about.
[She's talking to the horse, yes. And she does have much to think about; about home, about what she has done and needs to do. What she might have to pay for it... Really, there's only one thing to do at a time like this.
So it's around the morning, but before lunch, that the gayseball field tremors with the thunderous hooves of Fidella, being ridden around the loop by none other than Cassandra herself. The wind whips her hair back. Her worries are, for the moment, pushed aside. She looks happy.
Funny how, even after lunch, that happiness seems to persist. Muted but assuredly still there. Including a noticeable pep in her step as she journeys down the hallway. At least someone's in a good mood today!
Eventually, she emerges into the art room in the newly opened area, where she's spending a good chunk of time just sifting through the art supplies. Looking at the brushes and pencils, pulling out varying sheets of paper, comparing them. Hm. Whatever the case, they're not to her liking and she sets them back with a sigh.]
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The early Sunday morning silence in Longacre is broken suddenly by a low groan. That quickly turns into someone trying to suppress a scream - not out of horror, but... frustration?]
I'm a fucking idiot!
[Once... That has settled, Cassandra heads outside for the morning, mainly towards the gayseball field where, coincidentally, her horse, Fidella is currently staying.]
Hey, girl. [She pats Fidella's snout. The horse, seemingly noticing her rider's forlornness, shuffles against her hand with a huff.]
No, I'm fine. I just... I have a lot to think about.
[She's talking to the horse, yes. And she does have much to think about; about home, about what she has done and needs to do. What she might have to pay for it... Really, there's only one thing to do at a time like this.
So it's around the morning, but before lunch, that the gayseball field tremors with the thunderous hooves of Fidella, being ridden around the loop by none other than Cassandra herself. The wind whips her hair back. Her worries are, for the moment, pushed aside. She looks happy.
Funny how, even after lunch, that happiness seems to persist. Muted but assuredly still there. Including a noticeable pep in her step as she journeys down the hallway. At least someone's in a good mood today!
Eventually, she emerges into the art room in the newly opened area, where she's spending a good chunk of time just sifting through the art supplies. Looking at the brushes and pencils, pulling out varying sheets of paper, comparing them. Hm. Whatever the case, they're not to her liking and she sets them back with a sigh.]