She would make a quip about him not needing to put his genitals where they weren't wanted, for the doubtlessly high quantities of places they were wanted... if not for the fact she knew many perfectly attractive men who were very interested in finding places they weren't wanted, specifically, to stick their dicks. Lucky for her, and women of the world in general, that he wasn't one--or professed he wasn't, at least. She was inclined to believe him, because he hadn't tried yet, but it wasn't as though it was impossible to lie about such things, particularly to a girl you had no such interest in.
Of course, not being a rapist, or just not being interested in raping her, they had the same end result for her, so she supposed it didn't really matter.
Her eyes widened to saucers at the implication she'd be leaving in these clothes, however. "Wh-what?" She glanced down at herself. Her first instinct was to say she would have selected something less expensive--but they had all been like this, really--or more practical--but none of them had been practical. There hadn't been a large coat there, or a useful number of pants.
But she couldn't sleep outside in this. There was a one thousand percent she would be kidnapped within five minutes of lying down. She'd have to change... what would she do with a dress this fine and shoes this beautiful? Sell them, maybe? Or maybe she could somehow keep them from getting too dirty, put them at the very bottom of her bag, and wear them the next time she came here, so as to offend him less? That idea had merits, but what if he was grumpy at how wrinkled the dress would no doubt become in the intervening time, spent in a backpack?
"No," she settled on as an answer to his question, finally. She considered informing him it was because all of the options were just as impractical. She decided against it. "...Maybe different underwear," she admitted, flushing slightly at the admission, which had been for the sake of continued honesty. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea; she hadn't picked anything sexual. But she didn't tend to wear white.
The books! More valuable than the clothes, at least to her. She'd have to really thank that librarian; she had been absolutely right about coming here. These looked alarming and esoteric and like exactly what she needed.
She began her many trips outside while he fetched the mirror, noting the lack of cane. Perhaps it was an affectation, to make him look more harmless, or more human, or both.
She was very enthused to see her rats. They were very enthused to see her. There were four more than when she'd gone inside. This was something of a professional hazard. She was, however, shocked to find that the one she'd suggested poke around his house had done nothing of the sort. He would do it now, she could tell. But in her absence, he simply hadn't. She wasn't used to that happening. How odd. Rats were so friendly and suggestible, normally all you had to do was point out the obvious or make a request, and they'd be right off to do it. How bizarre.
She relegated all of them to side pockets, firmly. She had things she could not get rat poop on now. She tucked the books carefully into one of the large, main chambers of the backpack, informed all of the rats very sternly that no one and nothing was allowed to open that one. Anyone who tried would immediately receive all the furry wrath they had to offer.
She made many more trips, with more bread and apples than was probably reasonable for one person. But she had hungry mouths to feed; she left several of the rolls and fruit out on the ground and invited the rats to help themselves to it, which they immediately did. She placed a few more down. There would probably be ten rats by the time she left. They just had a way of finding her.
She wondered, idly, if she could ask him for a slice of the cake. Even if it got smooshed. It wasn't for her; she'd been leaving frosting and the like at the church, during the day. She wasn't sure if he could even leave the church, but she'd left it, both to discourage him from coming after her, and to give him something to do. It must get really goddamn boring there, alone all night. No wonder he was so enthused to the concept of rubbing his dick on things when he got a little company. She could bring him cake; there was still time before sunset. Hell, if she hurried, she could even use the privacy of the church to change back into clothes more suited to the street.
It meant she wouldn't be able to stay and enjoy being indoors, but that was okay. She'd make her apologies.
"Excuse me for asking," she said as she wandered back through the house to find both Mr. Cernunnos and the mirror. She had been expecting something fall smaller, and was momentarily startled by her own reflection. Her hair had dried, and the shampoo had left it fluffy and light. The glitter in both it and on her skin absolutely looked intentional in this sort of dress. Her lips were indeed a beautiful bright red. She forgot what she had been about to ask, immediately enamored with her own reflection.
The shoes, especially. She enjoyed being taller, and enjoyed how long they made her legs look. It really was a shame that no homeless girl like her would ever get to enjoy such nice things for long. She'd need to even remove the makeup, probably... although... just lipstick, who would even get close enough to notice? She'd have to take it off eventually, but surely she could leave it on for a little right? Maybe find a broken mirror or something to look at her reflection in, admire it while it lasted.
She was being a little narcissistic, she suspected. But it was like seeing a different person entirely in the mirror. Her collarbones were still stark, her limbs thin, but less thin than they'd been before a few weeks of good eating with the traffickers. With clean hair, in such a pretty dress, with such nice shoes and lipstick... Well, the markers of homelessness were still there, if you knew how to look for them, but they might also just be mistaken for a girl very concerned with her figure. That was something she'd learned about with Clarke, when she'd put on a lot of pounds all at once and people had teased her about it, asking if she'd be dieting.
Idiots.
Oh, right, her question. She cleared her throat, finally glancing away from her own reflection. "Do you think it would be possible for me to take a slice of that cake with me?" she asked, apologetically. "I'd like to give it to someone; so it won't have the chance to get squished or make a mess." No point in ice cream, it would be melted before he woke up.
Of course, not being a rapist, or just not being interested in raping her, they had the same end result for her, so she supposed it didn't really matter.
Her eyes widened to saucers at the implication she'd be leaving in these clothes, however. "Wh-what?" She glanced down at herself. Her first instinct was to say she would have selected something less expensive--but they had all been like this, really--or more practical--but none of them had been practical. There hadn't been a large coat there, or a useful number of pants.
But she couldn't sleep outside in this. There was a one thousand percent she would be kidnapped within five minutes of lying down. She'd have to change... what would she do with a dress this fine and shoes this beautiful? Sell them, maybe? Or maybe she could somehow keep them from getting too dirty, put them at the very bottom of her bag, and wear them the next time she came here, so as to offend him less? That idea had merits, but what if he was grumpy at how wrinkled the dress would no doubt become in the intervening time, spent in a backpack?
"No," she settled on as an answer to his question, finally. She considered informing him it was because all of the options were just as impractical. She decided against it. "...Maybe different underwear," she admitted, flushing slightly at the admission, which had been for the sake of continued honesty. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea; she hadn't picked anything sexual. But she didn't tend to wear white.
The books! More valuable than the clothes, at least to her. She'd have to really thank that librarian; she had been absolutely right about coming here. These looked alarming and esoteric and like exactly what she needed.
She began her many trips outside while he fetched the mirror, noting the lack of cane. Perhaps it was an affectation, to make him look more harmless, or more human, or both.
She was very enthused to see her rats. They were very enthused to see her. There were four more than when she'd gone inside. This was something of a professional hazard. She was, however, shocked to find that the one she'd suggested poke around his house had done nothing of the sort. He would do it now, she could tell. But in her absence, he simply hadn't. She wasn't used to that happening. How odd. Rats were so friendly and suggestible, normally all you had to do was point out the obvious or make a request, and they'd be right off to do it. How bizarre.
She relegated all of them to side pockets, firmly. She had things she could not get rat poop on now. She tucked the books carefully into one of the large, main chambers of the backpack, informed all of the rats very sternly that no one and nothing was allowed to open that one. Anyone who tried would immediately receive all the furry wrath they had to offer.
She made many more trips, with more bread and apples than was probably reasonable for one person. But she had hungry mouths to feed; she left several of the rolls and fruit out on the ground and invited the rats to help themselves to it, which they immediately did. She placed a few more down. There would probably be ten rats by the time she left. They just had a way of finding her.
She wondered, idly, if she could ask him for a slice of the cake. Even if it got smooshed. It wasn't for her; she'd been leaving frosting and the like at the church, during the day. She wasn't sure if he could even leave the church, but she'd left it, both to discourage him from coming after her, and to give him something to do. It must get really goddamn boring there, alone all night. No wonder he was so enthused to the concept of rubbing his dick on things when he got a little company. She could bring him cake; there was still time before sunset. Hell, if she hurried, she could even use the privacy of the church to change back into clothes more suited to the street.
It meant she wouldn't be able to stay and enjoy being indoors, but that was okay. She'd make her apologies.
"Excuse me for asking," she said as she wandered back through the house to find both Mr. Cernunnos and the mirror. She had been expecting something fall smaller, and was momentarily startled by her own reflection. Her hair had dried, and the shampoo had left it fluffy and light. The glitter in both it and on her skin absolutely looked intentional in this sort of dress. Her lips were indeed a beautiful bright red. She forgot what she had been about to ask, immediately enamored with her own reflection.
The shoes, especially. She enjoyed being taller, and enjoyed how long they made her legs look. It really was a shame that no homeless girl like her would ever get to enjoy such nice things for long. She'd need to even remove the makeup, probably... although... just lipstick, who would even get close enough to notice? She'd have to take it off eventually, but surely she could leave it on for a little right? Maybe find a broken mirror or something to look at her reflection in, admire it while it lasted.
She was being a little narcissistic, she suspected. But it was like seeing a different person entirely in the mirror. Her collarbones were still stark, her limbs thin, but less thin than they'd been before a few weeks of good eating with the traffickers. With clean hair, in such a pretty dress, with such nice shoes and lipstick... Well, the markers of homelessness were still there, if you knew how to look for them, but they might also just be mistaken for a girl very concerned with her figure. That was something she'd learned about with Clarke, when she'd put on a lot of pounds all at once and people had teased her about it, asking if she'd be dieting.
Idiots.
Oh, right, her question. She cleared her throat, finally glancing away from her own reflection. "Do you think it would be possible for me to take a slice of that cake with me?" she asked, apologetically. "I'd like to give it to someone; so it won't have the chance to get squished or make a mess." No point in ice cream, it would be melted before he woke up.
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Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-01-2017, 03:48 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-01-2017, 03:49 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-01-2017, 07:06 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-01-2017, 07:31 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-01-2017, 07:52 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-01-2017, 08:06 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-01-2017, 08:29 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-01-2017, 08:49 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-01-2017, 09:38 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-01-2017, 09:48 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-02-2017, 05:22 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-02-2017, 07:31 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-04-2017, 04:33 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-04-2017, 02:46 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-05-2017, 03:31 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-05-2017, 11:17 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-05-2017, 02:46 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-05-2017, 03:09 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-05-2017, 07:03 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-05-2017, 07:27 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-06-2017, 03:02 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-06-2017, 03:31 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-06-2017, 04:46 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-06-2017, 10:54 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-06-2017, 09:17 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-06-2017, 11:11 PM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-07-2017, 03:55 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-07-2017, 10:05 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-08-2017, 03:11 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-08-2017, 03:36 AM
RE: Être Dans de Beaux Draps [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-08-2017, 04:12 AM