intraspective: (bitchy)
Really, with the light going, it wasn’t the best idea to be up in the air and drawing, but that was better than living in the same cabin with the most thoughtless person ever because Ino knew herself, and knew good and well that if it came to fight?

She wouldn’t be pulling her punches. And she wanted to fight. Necks broke easier than she’d thought, what else could break so easy? So, rather than deal with that piece of crap, that’d no doubt be even worse once Dinah’s idiotic friends, if she hit her, got pissed on Dinah’s behalf—aw, someone needed protectors from the big bad widdle ninja, oh noes someone dared raise their voice to them, oh my God it’s the end of the world—Ino had prudently taken herself away from temptation to go out and start that fight.

See? Ino was exercising restraint. She just would stay the hell out of her cabin until they went back to the dorms. As if she was sleeping under the same roof. Then everyone could be happy! Except, of course, for her, because rage simmered under her thoughts. Distantly, she realized she wasn’t being entirely fair, but Ino told fair to take a hike and shove off.

So. She was here until the sun was gone, and then she’d... think of something. After all, what was two nights? Ino could easily find places to crash, now that the weather was nice. The air was cool, at least, and that was comforting. So was the progress she was making on her maps.

[Establishy unless you can a) fly and b) would brave the pissed off ninja. IC is not OOC, totally for broadcast and all of that good cheer, la!]
intraspective: (Short!hair sleepy)
Ino ushered Tether in, taking him off his leash, and shut the door to her room with a sigh. Leaning against it, she watched as the puppy made himself comfortable on her bed with a whump of displaced air.

That got a bit of a grin, a small one, but there. “Maybe I’ll see if I can keep you, yeah?” she said, knowing she wouldn’t ask but the thought was the same—she did like having him around. He wasn’t going to care that she was in a bad mood, or that she wasn’t looking forward to tracking down, well, her.

And he hadn’t paid any bit of attention to her haircut. She appreciated that because she totally didn’t want to talk about it. Totally didn’t. She’d cried while they’d done it.

“Move over,” she told him, slumping exhaustedly on the bed. “It’s not your bed.”

He licked her hand, and she laughed quietly.

[Establishy mainly, and the door is shut but open if you have reason to talk to her. And as of this post, Ino’s hair is short (despite some of her icons, la). Mwah.]

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Yamanaka Ino

April 2019

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