[ So it turns out it's extremely fucking hard to dress up for a date when your everyday wear is already ostentatiously over-the-top and formal. Anathema ran into this problem with the winter ball, and she's running into it here: she scrutinises her closet, discards most of the things she finds, at one point starts seriously considering if she can come up with a spell to magically bibbety-boppity-boo herself a new dress into existence (the answer: she cannot), and in the end chooses a dress she'd been saving for a special occasion. Because what else is this but a special occasion?
It's dark charcoal adorned with white feathers. Not her usual pops of bright colour, but it's also her closest thing to the traditional little-black-dress. Fairly simple, with long flowing sleeves, compared to her usual ornate fashion. When there's the knock at the door and Sal peeks her head in, Anathema's on her way through the living room in a brisk flurry of activity, stuffing her arms into the sleeves of a black coat, keys into purse, purse over her other arm. She shoots the other woman a smile, more tremulous than her usual. ]
Hi.
[ A sickening lurch in her stomach, of pleasant nerves. Anathema's been a big proponent of foraying into the unknown, but the unknown has never been this enjoyable before, nor so anxiety-inducing.
But because she also knows what the hell she's doing, she executes a little twirl at her doorstep. ]
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It's dark charcoal adorned with white feathers. Not her usual pops of bright colour, but it's also her closest thing to the traditional little-black-dress. Fairly simple, with long flowing sleeves, compared to her usual ornate fashion. When there's the knock at the door and Sal peeks her head in, Anathema's on her way through the living room in a brisk flurry of activity, stuffing her arms into the sleeves of a black coat, keys into purse, purse over her other arm. She shoots the other woman a smile, more tremulous than her usual. ]
Hi.
[ A sickening lurch in her stomach, of pleasant nerves. Anathema's been a big proponent of foraying into the unknown, but the unknown has never been this enjoyable before, nor so anxiety-inducing.
But because she also knows what the hell she's doing, she executes a little twirl at her doorstep. ]
So. Cute enough?