Room 415, Tuesday Evening
Cassandra had been dreading - and looking forward to - this moment since Sunday. She had tried on both of her dresses before deciding neither of them made her feel very comfortable, and comfortable was something she should be - so she was wearing her nicest sweater and trousers, all black and eggplant. She was still fidgeting with it. Perhaps she should have gone with one of the more formal dresses, after all? Garik was going to bring his suit, and--
--and Maker. She hadn't even decided where they should go yet.
So she paced nervously around the room, both terribly aware and somehow unaware of the way time was creeping towards the agreed-upon hour.
"For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water... oh, this is ridiculous... as the moth sees light and goes towards the flame..."
[[ for one, please! eta: ... and NSFW. ]]
--and Maker. She hadn't even decided where they should go yet.
So she paced nervously around the room, both terribly aware and somehow unaware of the way time was creeping towards the agreed-upon hour.
"For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water... oh, this is ridiculous... as the moth sees light and goes towards the flame..."
[[ for one, please! eta: ... and NSFW. ]]