Spookworm

The aesthetic clash is offensive, methinks. Inelegant. The noise is annoying. Might also generally remind her of Heisenberg in a way.

- She has zero patience for modern technology.

- She hums old jazz tunes when relaxed enough.

- She writes letters with a feather quill. Not because she has to, but because it’s dramatically satisfying. Her penmanship is elegant and terrifyingly precise.

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—> 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬. ❝ 𝑀𝑚ℎ. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑦𝑒𝑡. ❞ 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.
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𝐀 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧, 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐝𝐞, 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬; 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥.

𝐀 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬 —>
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❝ Very much so.

My darling girls have always found great interest in such things. ❞

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬.

❝ 𝑆𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝐼. ❞
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❝ Oh, don’t even get me started.

I simply do not understand why a chainsaw of all things.

It could have been anything; a dagger, a sword, a butcher knife…

... But a chainsaw .ᐣ Ugh... Most definitely a new low. ❞
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—> things. Mainly wood. ❞

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫.

❝ And who might you be .ᐣ One of Donna’s newer playthings .ᐣ ❞
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