by Brigid Plunder » Fri Oct 24, 2014 2:03 pm
"Er, what?" Brigid says, looking up.
Her motions themselves are just eating breakfast. Albeit in a fairly tight, controlled manner. Every movement is conserved. It at least looks normal, if a bit fussy.
It's the thoughts that accompany them that are vivid, suggestions of violence for every object she touches before she corrals it in. The salt shaker. A precise angle of force that would crack the glass into shards. An arc that would send the salt into a student's eyes. And... seasoning her eggs.