Freya walks into the Nexus, thumbing through a random fashion magazine. A half-dozen more are tucked under one arm, and the remains of another are being batted about by her cats. Suddenly she stops, turning the magazine sideways. "Well, that must take a lot of work to get into," she mutters to herself
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"But a slave of fashion is still a slave. If one makes his or her own choice to follow the fashions because they have some sort of power, they may be wise, but if they are simply changing for the sake of keeping up, it's quite fickle."
((Ooh, I'm so playing!))
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((Any ideas, or shall I make a suggestion?))
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((I know what I want to do already, thanks. ^.^ Gotta use those icons sometime!))
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She blinks. "Well, this... is far from what I was expecting."
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((Um...so what exactly happened?))
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((Maladicta went from male military uniform and his hair pulled back to fancy black dress and fancy hair and jewelery. Picture a stereotypical vampirina costume.))
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((Oooh! Sounds fun. ^.^))
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"I never introduced myself properly. My name is Maladicta. And yours?"
((Haha, it's what she joined the military to avoid. *snickers*))
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((Everyone must confront their demons at some point.))
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((Very true!))
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