Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26414442-20150506015955/@comment-14800267-20150513174055

((Sounds like a great idea!))

The sudden cold snapped clarity back into her like a slap across the face. That and the stinging across her knuckles. She gave them a cursoty glance. Her gloves were shredded and her knuckles equally so. Perhaps punching glass was a bad idea... She pulled the glove off and fished another from her pocket. Her treasure trove lattitude and longitude was tattooed on the back of her hand (it was in Neverlandian but she was still wary) - and a pirate brand burned on her wrist. Not stuff she liked having visible.

While looking down to pull her glove on, a slight effort one handed, she noticed something odd. A pirate's life was a nervous one, and time had taught her a set of observation skills that bordered on paranoid. Usefull when everyone wanted to either sink you or have you hanged. Below the window was a flower garden, and just at the edge of the wall was what looked very much like a footprint. The soil was damp. It had been raining all night and anything les than recent would have been washed away, so the impression was fresh. Someone had been under the window not that long ago.

A spy. A camera... and a very bad morning... Breakfast had been terrible, Grimm had decided to come and lecture them all about their destinies this morning in the cafeteria. He's grabbed her before she left, confiscating ehr rum skin, accusing her of underage drinking (She wasn't underage- at least she didn't think so. Time here and time in Neverland were very different) and given her detentions with Rumplestiltskin for the rest of the month and lectured her for a good fifteen mnutes on responsibility (Her father had smoked cigars AND drank while he was in Ever After High and he had never been in trouble for it because it was part of his story!). When she got back to her dorm someone had left a love letter asking Esmee to redevous at a cafe and sent her bo'sun running off, and whoever left the note had knocked over the coat rack in their haste to leave, tearing her favourite coat and crushing the accompanying hat. Her brush was missing and her makeup had been rifled by the cleaners. The hot water in the ensuite was off and she had bumped into Grimm again in her way here, gaining a triumphant smile and a congratulations on accepting her fate and going to the appropriate support group...

It had just seemed like an unfortunate morning- but looking at it now, it started to look like a very well staged goading attempt. Pieces started to slot together and the picture was very very ugly. She slowly turned back to the room and caught Sammy's statement.

"I'm happy for any idea at the moment, becasue I feel we- or I, at least, came close to being quite neatly stitched up... and right now I'd like to get a little messy vengance."