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angelo_wingsThe Lady Rinoa Caraway concentrated, and a horn curled out of the side of her head. It wrapped around itself like a conch shell, laying flat, and she squinted at her reflection.
No. Not with this outfit. A swipe of her hand and it disappeared. Maybe more of a headdress?
Rinoa understood the importance of presentation. She had been a Sorceress most of her life, and she had discovered that people expected the Sorceress to look a certain way -- exotic, beautiful, somehow alien. The Sorceress could not appear in jeans, with her hair in a ponytail; the Sorceress couldn't be a girl. She had to be an otherworldly creature. People felt cheated when arcane power was wrapped up in a t-shirt and sweat pants, and it made them less afraid, somehow, that she was clearly demarcated as Other.
At least it was easy enough to magic her appearance into something unusual. Spending hours on hair and make-up every time she left the house would be exhausting.
She only really bothered when she left the house as the Sorceress, of course; at home with Dad, she could wear all of the jeans and ponytails she wanted. Anyone allowed into the house was a friend, or trusted enough that they could see her incognito. But for this mission, she'd be away for a considerable amount of time, and before both Lieutenant Commander Leonhart and their host, Mr. Starsmore, certain standards had to be maintained.
They were still, after three days, no closer to understanding the rift that had opened in Centra, that had connected their world with this strange island. And Rinoa had a bet with herself that she could convince the Lt. Commander to say more than five unofficial words to her, in one go, but she was losing that prospect, thus far. If SeeD had insisted on sending a protector (well, spy) along with the Sorceress, why couldn't it have been one who could actually hold a conversation?
At least she had Angelo for company, although Angelo seemed out of sorts today. She kept making faces at Rinoa and barking at strange things in the loft.
"There," Rinoa said, putting the finishing touches on her hair. "I think the lanterns are a nice touch, don't you?"
Angelo only whined.
(OOC: Rinoa is now AU: she received her powers at age five, and is the Protectress of Galbadia. Oh, also: she's on good terms with her dad, and has barely met this Squall guy. ESTABLISHY AND ALSO OPEN.)
No. Not with this outfit. A swipe of her hand and it disappeared. Maybe more of a headdress?
Rinoa understood the importance of presentation. She had been a Sorceress most of her life, and she had discovered that people expected the Sorceress to look a certain way -- exotic, beautiful, somehow alien. The Sorceress could not appear in jeans, with her hair in a ponytail; the Sorceress couldn't be a girl. She had to be an otherworldly creature. People felt cheated when arcane power was wrapped up in a t-shirt and sweat pants, and it made them less afraid, somehow, that she was clearly demarcated as Other.
At least it was easy enough to magic her appearance into something unusual. Spending hours on hair and make-up every time she left the house would be exhausting.
She only really bothered when she left the house as the Sorceress, of course; at home with Dad, she could wear all of the jeans and ponytails she wanted. Anyone allowed into the house was a friend, or trusted enough that they could see her incognito. But for this mission, she'd be away for a considerable amount of time, and before both Lieutenant Commander Leonhart and their host, Mr. Starsmore, certain standards had to be maintained.
They were still, after three days, no closer to understanding the rift that had opened in Centra, that had connected their world with this strange island. And Rinoa had a bet with herself that she could convince the Lt. Commander to say more than five unofficial words to her, in one go, but she was losing that prospect, thus far. If SeeD had insisted on sending a protector (well, spy) along with the Sorceress, why couldn't it have been one who could actually hold a conversation?
At least she had Angelo for company, although Angelo seemed out of sorts today. She kept making faces at Rinoa and barking at strange things in the loft.
"There," Rinoa said, putting the finishing touches on her hair. "I think the lanterns are a nice touch, don't you?"
Angelo only whined.
(OOC: Rinoa is now AU: she received her powers at age five, and is the Protectress of Galbadia. Oh, also: she's on good terms with her dad, and has barely met this Squall guy. ESTABLISHY AND ALSO OPEN.)
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no subject
Date: 2014-03-14 09:34 pm (UTC)...Well, she could kill him, but presumably she wasn't going to. If him provoking her got her to take the mission more seriously, that was worth risking getting hurt for.
no subject
Date: 2014-03-14 09:37 pm (UTC)First she was too silly to be professional, and then not intimidating enough, and now he was upset that she was too intimidating.
"I think you're frustrated about this mission and taking it out on me," she added. "You're pretending that your comments about my appearance have something to do with me being taken seriously so you can justify making snide remarks."
no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 01:03 am (UTC)And he wasn't about to backpedal and apologize.
"Whatever," he grumbled.
no subject
Date: 2014-03-15 01:10 am (UTC)"In other words, I'm right."