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Room 317, Thursday Morning
Aug. 4th, 2011 12:24 pmThe oatmeal bath last night had stopped the itching, a bit, but had done precisely nothing for Quinn's peace of mind. She woke up this morning feeling as if several large trucks had hit her in succession, then backed up and run over her again, just for fun.
She stumbled to the mirror to brush her teeth. Two classes today. Gotta get to them, gotta look good, gotta get through --
She was gray. Not pale and under the weather, not sickly and in need of some good concealer or a nap or chicken noodle soup: Gray. And when she blinked, as if that might fix it, she noticed her eyes were pitch black instead of their normal greenish hazel.
Panic jumped into her throat, scalding hot. She was mumbling to herself as she attacked her cosmetics drawer. A little more moisturizer, some heavy foundation, some eye drops and this would all go away.
It had to.
[OOC: cracked door, open post!]
She stumbled to the mirror to brush her teeth. Two classes today. Gotta get to them, gotta look good, gotta get through --
She was gray. Not pale and under the weather, not sickly and in need of some good concealer or a nap or chicken noodle soup: Gray. And when she blinked, as if that might fix it, she noticed her eyes were pitch black instead of their normal greenish hazel.
Panic jumped into her throat, scalding hot. She was mumbling to herself as she attacked her cosmetics drawer. A little more moisturizer, some heavy foundation, some eye drops and this would all go away.
It had to.
[OOC: cracked door, open post!]
