( The Vine blooms, but a mysterious mist swirls, clouding the view for those who might behold it.

Except, you can hear coughing. After a moment or two, a figure looms in what is actually smoke, and rather than it being some mysterious terrain, those who reside in the Monsigny apartments might recognise the layout of the kitchen. Suddenly, hope! A window is thrown open, the coughing is louder, and Jules is flapping a tea towel in the hopes that it will clear the room of smoke.

A few moments of that, it's time for the serious stuff. Still coughing, eyes stinging from the smoke that is more persistent and aggravating than one of her exes, Jules makes her way to the over and throws it own. More smoke! An alarm that (rather worryingly) hadn't started going off yet is finally triggered, and Jules doesn't think to double over the cloth in hand before grabbing the metal tray from the oven.

Immediately, she drops it. What were once charred muffins, are now... charred messes on the floor. That were still gooey inside. How did she manage this? That is a mystery for the ages, but with her hand burnt, an alarm going off and generally feeling a bit crap, Jules let's fly. )

Fuckedy fucking fuck wank sodding bollocks!
( One hand is clamped over the other, and she sort of kicks the oven before the act makes her double over again. ) Ow! Fuck!

( A great literary mind, ladies and … more ladies. ) Shagging f-- hhmmgh. ( Ah, yes. That was swallowing a sound of pain. ) Happy sodding birthday, Julia.


( ooc :: apologies for the early post, since I'll be working during and following her birthday I wanted to try and get this posted sooner. )