Italy Romana | Chiara Vargas
03 November 2010 @ 07:10 pm
[For someone whose just woken up in a bed that is not her own (her own being far more comfortable), dressed in clothes that also don't belong to hers (and never would. Even her sleepwear is designer label okay?), and in a place that is most certainly not her beloved Italy, Lovina is handling it all quite well.

...Well, that of course depends on your definition of well. Her own means that to her it's perfectly reasonable to tiptoe down the stairs of this strange house, table lamp in hand, Lovina primed to attack the heads of her kidnappers.

And then, just as she passes it, the phone rings. After spending a few seconds staring at in suspicion, Lovina picks up, holding it warily to her ear as if it'll explode at any second, giving her something else to be irritated about as well as destroying her carefully styled hair.]

...Hello? Who is thi-

[Anything else she's about the say is cut off by a loud shriek, at a volume that will definitely make you ears ache. This shriek is the followed by loud cries of 'demon!' as well as the sounds of that table lamp smashing and Sam's angry chitters. Enjoy, citizen's of Mayfield because it's being sent straight to your phones.]