the little black dress
Medusa contemplates the dress in the mirror. It's a pretty thing, red chiffon falling to above her knees, nicely low cut. It's stylish, sexy and the whisper of fabric makes her smile.
The dress joins the others on the pile a moment later.
If it looks like Medusa is attempting to find the perfect outfit for a date, then impressions aren't far wrong. It is for a date, of sorts; one that the Boy isn't aware of it and all for the purposes of revenge. Not that she is annoyed with Sam. Far from it. It's just...well, it'd be nice to turn the tables. See him being unable to think. Just for...just for a change.
The trouble with plotting revenge against your boyfriend when he is far more wordly than you is, well, he is far more worldy than you. Words...well, he can make her stutter and blush with merely a look, let alone being able to find innuendo in the most innocent of phrases. Words aren't useful. But there are other things are her disposal, as all the men who had paid court to her could attest. Her curly hair (currently out in all its blue-black glory), her face and curvy figure...
Now, normally, Medusa doesn't care much for what she wears. Doesn't need to, mostly, and nearly all the time she isn't out to attract anyone. But sometimes...sometimes occasion calls for it and she's girl enough to enjoy pretty things.
And in any case, she'd promised to wear those boots again.
(Which would be why all those dresses on the floor are short.)
Medusa sighs and rubs her head, rumaging about (the wardrobe has a certain amount of magic, it should be said - she certainly didn't order these clothes from the Bar). Would this do? She steps into the dress, wriggling it on and doing up the zip in the back before looking at herself in the mirror.
The dress is short, fitted, plain at first glance but there are pleats down the front and the black fabric is a faint brocade. It's simple, pretty. Most importantly of all, it's sexy without being obvious about it.
Medusa starts to smile.
"Perfect."
Now, all she has to do is master walking in the silly things...
The dress joins the others on the pile a moment later.
If it looks like Medusa is attempting to find the perfect outfit for a date, then impressions aren't far wrong. It is for a date, of sorts; one that the Boy isn't aware of it and all for the purposes of revenge. Not that she is annoyed with Sam. Far from it. It's just...well, it'd be nice to turn the tables. See him being unable to think. Just for...just for a change.
The trouble with plotting revenge against your boyfriend when he is far more wordly than you is, well, he is far more worldy than you. Words...well, he can make her stutter and blush with merely a look, let alone being able to find innuendo in the most innocent of phrases. Words aren't useful. But there are other things are her disposal, as all the men who had paid court to her could attest. Her curly hair (currently out in all its blue-black glory), her face and curvy figure...
Now, normally, Medusa doesn't care much for what she wears. Doesn't need to, mostly, and nearly all the time she isn't out to attract anyone. But sometimes...sometimes occasion calls for it and she's girl enough to enjoy pretty things.
And in any case, she'd promised to wear those boots again.
(Which would be why all those dresses on the floor are short.)
Medusa sighs and rubs her head, rumaging about (the wardrobe has a certain amount of magic, it should be said - she certainly didn't order these clothes from the Bar). Would this do? She steps into the dress, wriggling it on and doing up the zip in the back before looking at herself in the mirror.
The dress is short, fitted, plain at first glance but there are pleats down the front and the black fabric is a faint brocade. It's simple, pretty. Most importantly of all, it's sexy without being obvious about it.
Medusa starts to smile.
"Perfect."
Now, all she has to do is master walking in the silly things...