Ana-Maria Delmonico
by @ashh2dustt
Ana-Maria Delmonico frowns down at her food, poking absentmindedly at a piece of sausage with her fork as she rests her chin on her hand. She’s sat at the end of the table, ignoring pretty much everyone around her- until the feeling of cold pumpkin juice seeps through her robes, causing an outraged shriek to fall past her lips as she jumps up and whirls to face the culprit.
“What. The. Hell is wrong with you?!”
She demands, trying desperately to wipe the pumpkin juice from her clothes, pinning you with a withering glare as she does so.