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[witchmaker.livejournal.com]

[ Angela is on the plane, not in her pajamas, but her Grand Diviner outfit, sans giganto crown. She has her staff and her supply bag, which she is filling up from a larger bag. She's loading up on things that appear to look like scales and coins and claws and pots filled with different oils. The look on her face is murderous, she looks more like she's packing artillery than preparing for any kind of trip. She's certainly not resting, like she should be, since she's still flushed with fever and starting to look a little pale on top of that. She's also muttering rather angrily to herself. ]

I saw him, I know I saw him, why they won't believe me...

(Experiment time! Just the beginning, though, there's a few more days before she goes totally batshit. Woo~)