I adore being dressed in something frilly...
After leaving Roger with the doctor, Anamaria had followed orders and showered in the compound's lush arrangements. Hot water and real soap and soft towels. No wonder land lubbers were so soft if this was how they lived all the time. She washed her hair three times, ridding it of blood and twigs and grime and spent far too much time leaning against the wall, letting the water sluice over her back, stinging scrapes and scars.
Finally she wrenched the water off and wrapped herself in a towel. Her soiled clothes were gathered into a pile and she padded out of the washroom to go find the clothes bin. The wound on her arm was angry and red and she knew from experience that it would likely scar when it healed. She ignored it mostly as she had ignored the doctor's second command to return to him for treatment.
The laundry room was quiet except for the hum of machines she didn't understand and didn't care to learn about. Anamaria dropped her clothes and herself in front of the clothes bin and began to dig through it for something to wear until she could wash her own clothing. She threw out gown after gown that would have doubtless looked marvelous on Elizabeth Swann but suited the pirate not at all. After about thirty seconds she began to swear. When her hand hit the bottom of the box and she'd not found even a single pair of trousers she began to threaten the bin with fire.
[Come one, come all. Towel-clad pirate lass threatening inanimate objects = good times for all!]
Finally she wrenched the water off and wrapped herself in a towel. Her soiled clothes were gathered into a pile and she padded out of the washroom to go find the clothes bin. The wound on her arm was angry and red and she knew from experience that it would likely scar when it healed. She ignored it mostly as she had ignored the doctor's second command to return to him for treatment.
The laundry room was quiet except for the hum of machines she didn't understand and didn't care to learn about. Anamaria dropped her clothes and herself in front of the clothes bin and began to dig through it for something to wear until she could wash her own clothing. She threw out gown after gown that would have doubtless looked marvelous on Elizabeth Swann but suited the pirate not at all. After about thirty seconds she began to swear. When her hand hit the bottom of the box and she'd not found even a single pair of trousers she began to threaten the bin with fire.
[Come one, come all. Towel-clad pirate lass threatening inanimate objects = good times for all!]