May 22, 2007 22:00
Plourr keeps her clothing loose, outside of the apartments (though there's really not much she can do to keep it between them much longer, not really), but inside -- not much need, is there? She's sprawled on her back across the sofa, her legs hanging over the armrest and her arm across her eyes. She got as far as removing her jewelry, changing her tunic (exchanging a flowing royal purple top for an old, fitted undershirt), and kicking off one shoe, before she flopped down on the sofa with an inarticulate noise of disgust, and stayed there.
State dinners are the pits.