intraspective: (Displeased)
There was a rather ominous level of rage emanating from room 504 today.

After being carried back to the dorms, Ino had slept in fits and starts, too wound up to ever really rest, and eventually gave up entirely.

A few hours later, Ino was sitting cross-legged on her floor, in one of Kabuto’s shirts and not much else (which, really, his shirts were more than long enough to be pajamas on her, come on) and fuming.

And considering how to burn the poster bits. Should she do it one piece at a time? Or all at once?

Ino would be good for tonight, and the boy hunting.

For now though—the poster bits were going to die by fire.

As soon as she figured out which way would be the most satisfying.

[Door shut, post open. Enter at your own risk zomg.]
intraspective: (royally pissed)
By the time Ino got back to her room she had a headache from forcing herself to keep her temper. She opened the door, with slightly more force than was necessary, stepped inside then shut it. Oh-so-gently.

Then, almost calmly, she picked up one of her potted plants and flung it with all the force she could muster at the wall over her bed. The pot smashed satisfyingly but it wasn’t enough, not near enough, to make her feel better.

Another pot. Another crash against her wall.

How. Crash. Dare. Crash. He. Crash.

How. Crash. Dare. Crash. They. Crash.

Eventually she’d have to stop, either from running out of pots, or from spending her rage. Eventually she’d have to clean this mess up so she could sleep.

Eventually.

CRASH!

[Door is shut, post is very very open. ETA: Romeo showed up last, please. Everyone else is before him.]

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intraspective: (Default)
Yamanaka Ino

April 2019

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