(no subject)
It wasn't such a strange occurrence, now, to see her dressed in clothes that someone like Margene would have approved of. She'd shed her skin, and she told herself it wasn't cowardice, running from her past as fast as her feet would carry her.
She'd stopped lecturing strangers on their sexual habits. She'd stopped telling them that she was the Prophet's daughter. On the outside, she was just a girl, a little odd and a little sharp around the edges, but for once in her life she felt like she might actually be her own person.
There was only one last thing to get rid of.
She'd ducked into the unisex basement bathroom, and she stood in front of the sink, the door wide open at her back, a dress spread out neatly on the counter and a pair of scissors in one hand. In the other, she grasped her braid, staring down at the wavy blond ends. When the braid was loose, her hair fell to the middle of her back. She'd had nothing but a trim since she was a little girl.
With her jaw set, she pulled her hair taunt and snipped, sawing through the thick hair with dulled scissors. The braid dropped, still intact, into the basin of the sink, and when she shook out her hair, it fell unevenly around her shoulders.
Frowning, she realized she'd probably need some help to reach the back. With a sigh, she put down the scissors, stuck her hair out into the laundry room and called, "Hello? A little help."
[[Timed to BEFORE the Bennet Ball. She's in the bathroom just off the laundry room. All are welcome. ST/LT fine as always.]]
She'd stopped lecturing strangers on their sexual habits. She'd stopped telling them that she was the Prophet's daughter. On the outside, she was just a girl, a little odd and a little sharp around the edges, but for once in her life she felt like she might actually be her own person.
There was only one last thing to get rid of.
She'd ducked into the unisex basement bathroom, and she stood in front of the sink, the door wide open at her back, a dress spread out neatly on the counter and a pair of scissors in one hand. In the other, she grasped her braid, staring down at the wavy blond ends. When the braid was loose, her hair fell to the middle of her back. She'd had nothing but a trim since she was a little girl.
With her jaw set, she pulled her hair taunt and snipped, sawing through the thick hair with dulled scissors. The braid dropped, still intact, into the basin of the sink, and when she shook out her hair, it fell unevenly around her shoulders.
Frowning, she realized she'd probably need some help to reach the back. With a sigh, she put down the scissors, stuck her hair out into the laundry room and called, "Hello? A little help."
[[Timed to BEFORE the Bennet Ball. She's in the bathroom just off the laundry room. All are welcome. ST/LT fine as always.]]