((I love you people. SRSLY))

Fuck, Marry, Get Drunk With. Send me 3 names.

            Angelina groaned softly, and glanced away from the question with a flicker of dread. There was another one!? As if the first one hadn’t been bad enough.

            ”I’m going to hunt you down, and kill you.“ The woman rasped out dangerously at the grey-face before. ”Slowly, and intimately.” The threat hung like venom upon her tongue.

            Pulling back, she bared her fangs, gnashing them into the air as if contemplating the maiming of an unknown person more then her answer for the question. Silence lingered, before she finally spoke.

            ”I would get drunk with Grell,” The woman ventured. She would likely spike his drink with poison too— but they hadn’t asked that part. So she continued. “I would fuck Sebastian— because who honestly would pass on that opportunity?“  She certainly wouldn’t.

            “That leaves the final option to marry Vincent.” Because in the end? She would rather spend an eternity with him bound in matrimony, then a fleeting hour of fun.