towerofanimus | An Outfit Changed, An Identity Reclaimed.

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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Then get ready for a long string of disappointments, confusion, and fuck yous.

So deeply merciless a piece of information, is it?

Pretty much.

It would seem then to only exist for the purpose of further complicating itself to those who would dare attempt to study it.

Anybody who's got to deal with it if going to get the metaphorical equivalent of a kick in the teeth at least once a day. That's just how it goes.

From your description, however, there would seem to only be a rare example of any who would not need deal with it, if that exception were at all populated.

Some people are a little luckier and don't need to wade knee-deep into it to keep things moving.

I take it you are referring to yourself?

Unfortunately. But I had shitty luck to begin with, so it's not really surprising.

We all have our burdens to bear. Luck rarely has anything to do with it.

I like to think it does, since being predestined for this shitstorm would be too much even for me.

Is that not the very thing playing into the result, predestination? Where luck could find itself in such an equation is a rather marginal consideration.

Predestination is a crock of shit and can just fuck itself with the nearest sharp object. I'll force my way to where I want to be, so destiny and luck can just get the hell out of the way.