Thalassa
The problem
with wearing a dress
with wearing a dress
The dismissive tone that drifted from the shadows rubbed her emotions all the wrong ways, making her narrow her blue eyes to dangerous slits. So what if her attempts at distraction and discretion had been foiled? It wasn't like she was so ignorant that she didn't notice the man or at least try to lose him. She blamed her failure on the alcohol.
Rolling her eyes in vicious annoyance, she snapped back, "'Cunning' implies outsmarting an enemy. Toying with innocent bystanders isn't 'cunning,' it's cruel." Perhaps if the cruelty had been her own, she wouldn't be as frustrated. In response to his presence, she crossed her arms defensively, looking like a tantrum-ing child in comparison to the man's giant height. "I know."
All of a sudden, her feet were floating off the ground again. This time it was more chaotic, spinning her around and raising her higher. She cursed under her breath, her arms flying out to try and steady the movements, but she was in the air with no way to control the direction. Her dark hair snapped around in the wind along with the crunchy fabric of her dress. The whirling chaos overwhelmed the tearing sound of fabric. She could, however, feel the loosening of her corset against her chest. Holding her arms tight to her bodice only served to spin her faster. Thal may have an iron stomach when handling rocky waters, but spinning was a different story and her creeping nausea caused her to throw her arms back out instinctually. Another second of being thrown around like a ragdoll finally pushed the lace past its limits, ripping it open to release the gold flecks within.
Without any semblance of elegance or grace, she was dropped to the ground in a heap of black velvet and torn lace. Assessing her corset, she saw that a gaping hole sat just above her navel. It was otherwise intact - not that it helped alleviate any of her irritation. Glaring daggers at the man, she hissed out, "Wow. Real gentlemanly." Thal disguised supporting her spinning head by pushing her hair out of her face and clenching her fanged teeth. She half hoped the man would just leave her to suffer in her cold, miserable humiliation.
Rolling her eyes in vicious annoyance, she snapped back, "'Cunning' implies outsmarting an enemy. Toying with innocent bystanders isn't 'cunning,' it's cruel." Perhaps if the cruelty had been her own, she wouldn't be as frustrated. In response to his presence, she crossed her arms defensively, looking like a tantrum-ing child in comparison to the man's giant height. "I know."
All of a sudden, her feet were floating off the ground again. This time it was more chaotic, spinning her around and raising her higher. She cursed under her breath, her arms flying out to try and steady the movements, but she was in the air with no way to control the direction. Her dark hair snapped around in the wind along with the crunchy fabric of her dress. The whirling chaos overwhelmed the tearing sound of fabric. She could, however, feel the loosening of her corset against her chest. Holding her arms tight to her bodice only served to spin her faster. Thal may have an iron stomach when handling rocky waters, but spinning was a different story and her creeping nausea caused her to throw her arms back out instinctually. Another second of being thrown around like a ragdoll finally pushed the lace past its limits, ripping it open to release the gold flecks within.
Without any semblance of elegance or grace, she was dropped to the ground in a heap of black velvet and torn lace. Assessing her corset, she saw that a gaping hole sat just above her navel. It was otherwise intact - not that it helped alleviate any of her irritation. Glaring daggers at the man, she hissed out, "Wow. Real gentlemanly." Thal disguised supporting her spinning head by pushing her hair out of her face and clenching her fanged teeth. She half hoped the man would just leave her to suffer in her cold, miserable humiliation.
is that it clashes
with a sword.
with a sword.
