(no subject)
The door opens, and then it shuts. In the space between, a young woman slips in. Bare feet, but a red silk dress. Roman, of course, with a long ribbon criss-crossing from underneath her breasts to her hips.
The dress doesn't match the feet, doesn't match the cloud of silky hair.
Morgne, Queen of Gore, is back. Not for long, she just felt like visiting and found the door again. Stepping carefully, she makes her way through the bar.
The dress doesn't match the feet, doesn't match the cloud of silky hair.
Morgne, Queen of Gore, is back. Not for long, she just felt like visiting and found the door again. Stepping carefully, she makes her way through the bar.