An Outfit Changed, An Identity Reclaimed.

[mamadonna]

Characters: The Dolorosa and YOU!
Setting: 15th floor, the workshop
Format: Basically whatever, if you want to do chocolate things drop a note here!
Summary: Dolorosa is working with some textiles when she gets interrupted?
Warnings: Possible violence and chocolate plot business.

[ Dolorosa had been working on this dress for a couple weeks now, collecting what scraps she could that fit her needs, but they weren't always easy to come by. It was the veiled cape that had been the most difficult, but she'd finally found the right material, and had gotten the dye to properly take.

It was almost finished, and soon she would't have to continue wearing this silly jumpsuit any longer. It only needed one last addition: her sign. It had been sweeps since she'd last worn it, or even been allowed to see it, but she ever forgot its shape, and so making the thread follow her whims until it took form was accomplished without mistake, and only the slightest pause.

It was a form of therapy, this dress. A reclamation of her identity. Within the hour, once properly garbed, she would once again be fully herself. ]

Comments

[restitchtime]

I wish. My bro's too much of an inscrutable asshole for even me to get close to. [she doesn't sound particularly proud of him, though]

[mamadonna]

Was it difficult, having so taciturn a guardian? My own had her quainter habits, but wasn't without her affections. I suppose that was the template which I've attempted to myself follow.

[ Though she isn't nearly as fond of burrowing, luckily. ]

[restitchtime]

Difficult? Please. He was a fucking disaster in every sense of the word who had absolutely no business taking care of a kid. I'm surprised that I've still got all my limbs intact after that catastrophe that counts as my childhood.

[LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY GUARDIAN ISSUES]

[mamadonna]

[ Welp, she got someone who's down for listening at least. ]

That is unfortunate to hear. Being assigned an incompatible guardian must have presented quite a hindrance to be overcome in your earlier years.

The results don't seem to have, hmm, withheld you from developing into too horrid a person, at least. [ Said more out of politeness than with full confidence. ]

[restitchtime]

That's because it was pretty simple to keep from being a complete waste of oxygen - anything he did I stayed the fuck away from.

[she shrugs a little] Surprised I didn't drop dead before I was tall enough to reach the oven and get my own food, though. That was a pretty shitty time.

[mamadonna]

[ Now, that has her feeling a little incensed. ]

A guardian incapable of providing for his charge is not fit to be allowed the title! [ Which means she's going to start looking Rose over for signs of malnutrition. ] Have you eaten anything recently? Anything legitimately nutritious?

[restitchtime]

[that makes Rose throw her head back and laugh]

Please, stuffing the fridge with nothing but swords was the least of the laundry list of why he should've never had a kid. I've been cooking my own shit and balancing up and down the food pyramid since I could reach the counter.

[mamadonna]

Alright. Very well.

So, you found your own methods by which to compensate for his failings?

[restitchtime]

Yeah. I learned to take care of myself and keep my shit out of his reach, which is a lot harder than it sounds.

[mamadonna]

At how young an age had this begun?

[restitchtime]

What, the being a shitty guardian or me realizing I didn't like my crap being moved around and tossed out the window?

[mamadonna]

When you understood that more would need be invested for your continued survival than he would offer.

[restitchtime]

Three or four? It wasn't exactly brain surgery coming to that realization.

[mamadonna]

What was it that brought you through the sweeps prior to that? It is a considerable quantity of time!

[restitchtime]

Not the way humans measure it. [lady try and be a little more multicultural sheesh]

Guess I just had some really fantastic luck up until then or something. It's kind of hard to remember shit from when you're a baby.

[mamadonna]

Oh, of course. Years. You'll forgive me, it slips my mind at times.

But I don't imagine one of any greater youth would be capable of caring for herself unassisted.

[restitchtime]

I mooched off some of the old people in my apartment complex for a while, but honestly it's not too fucking hard to keep yourself alive. Bro manged to miraculously not fuck up some basic shit and I covered the rest.

[mamadonna]

So his inadequacy was more in his ability to properly serve in a long term consideration than a complete lack. That much is fortunate, I suppose.

[restitchtime]

Yeah, about as lucky as losing a hand when your whole arm could have come off. [THE DEPTHS OF HER ENMITY LET HER SHOW THEM TO YOU]

[mamadonna]

Could he truly have been so unreservedly negligent? To say that he provided some small basics should be more akin to receiving a small wafer when one expected a grand cake.

[restitchtime]

Look, when my earliest memory is being flung across a roof I'm pretty fucking sure I'm entitled to believing that my Bro is at the very least a runner up for worst guardian of the century.

[mamadonna]

[ And her mouth closes tightly as her eyes go wide. ]







...Yes. I daresay you would be.

[restitchtime]

Thought so. [she grins a little at the expression, shoving her hands into her pockets] But hey, welcome to Striderhood. Learn to dodge or get real familiar with the bottom of the stairs.

[mamadonna]

A shame the circumstances would apparently not grant you full reprieve, neither is the cause especially kind.

[restitchtime]

The universe doesn't like letting up on me, even when my shitty home life has nothing to do with it. It's nothing I can't handle.