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

[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.

[mamadonna]

That doesn't mean you should need to.

[restitchtime]

Shit like that never hurts to have.

[mamadonna]

But there is a difference between a capacity to meet such circumstances and the necessity to employ it. Developing the first is recommended, but usually with the hope that the second will not occur.

[restitchtime]

Not everybody gets shiny happy lives where shit doesn't hit the fan on a regular basis. I can deal with it so I don't exactly give a fuck that my luck's perpetually in the toilet.

[mamadonna]

Don't mistake me for one who could even envision what a life of such luminescence and joy would resemble, child. What we are given rarely coincides with that which we hope for, but that should not erase our need for such hopes.

[restitchtime]

Yeah, you keep hoping. I'm not going to wait around and pray that maybe paradox space decides to lay off me sometime in the future.

[mamadonna]

It can be, at times, the only motivation to continue beyond the current predicament.

[restitchtime]

I've got a little more willpower than that.

[mamadonna]

And it's with no joy that I inform you it will wear over time.

[restitchtime]

I've faced the apocalypse two times over with no problem before getting dragged here; pretty sure there's nothing left to break me with.

[mamadonna]

It may surprise you how the scale of the event is not always proportionate to the reaction. You are yet young and have much to live for, but it may eventually narrow.