Post by Regina on Aug 31, 2010 15:29:34 GMT
Regina's room was a testament to her love of fashion. There was memorabilia all over the walls, posters of Twiggy from the sixties, covers of Vogue and Elle, the surfaces of her desk and dresser littered with bottles of perfume, pages from magazines, even a photograph of that one time she'd been out with her packmates and run into Kate Moss of all people at a nightclub. Obviously the best night of her life. Regina was lying on her bed painting her fingernails with her feet up on her headboard, her toes already drying while she watched a soap opera upside-down on the little TV across from the foot of the bed.
That was when she heard the first shriek of fear.
Her room was too far away from the start of the fire to have heard the smashing of glass and the whoosh of flames and alcohol., but she heard the thunder of footsteps and the panicked squeals and the skin on her arms puckered against the sensation that something very, very bad was happening. A moment later and she could smell smoke, Regina propped herself up on her elbows and frowned at the door before she heaved herself up and screwed the cap back on her nail polish.
What possessed her to picked up her Hutton Sabre she couldn't say, but instinctively her fingers closed around the familiar grip and she ventured towards the door. Opening it she was hit with the smack of fear in the air, not the tense atmosphere they were used to, not anxiety but outright fear and her insides heaved as if she were going to vomit from the overpowering way it clawed at her senses.
Regina wasn't going to just stand around like a damsel in distress though, she was going to do something.
Continued in Hallways.
That was when she heard the first shriek of fear.
Her room was too far away from the start of the fire to have heard the smashing of glass and the whoosh of flames and alcohol., but she heard the thunder of footsteps and the panicked squeals and the skin on her arms puckered against the sensation that something very, very bad was happening. A moment later and she could smell smoke, Regina propped herself up on her elbows and frowned at the door before she heaved herself up and screwed the cap back on her nail polish.
What possessed her to picked up her Hutton Sabre she couldn't say, but instinctively her fingers closed around the familiar grip and she ventured towards the door. Opening it she was hit with the smack of fear in the air, not the tense atmosphere they were used to, not anxiety but outright fear and her insides heaved as if she were going to vomit from the overpowering way it clawed at her senses.
Regina wasn't going to just stand around like a damsel in distress though, she was going to do something.
Continued in Hallways.