There was always a reason to slide in to places one didn't wish to be in order to check the pulse of anything lying in wait to be found when you got there. Barbara was not a party girl. Her reputation, carefully crafted, was that of the girl-grown-into-young-woman who had a habit of blundering into things you'd rather not have her around. It was a different picture from the young woman she was when dealing with the motorcycles and leisure vehicles preferred in citizen races during the lulls between Games.
Or what used to be the lulls between Games. This quell has changed that landscape as well.
Minimalism had been the key she used when the stylists, lacking a proper group of Tributes to primp and preen until they shone how they preferred, turned their collective eyes on her. Even then, she'd walked out wearing more black than she ever preferred, including the most ludicrous silver buckles with crossed ears of wheat that ended up looking almost bat-like around her waist. The same silver ears of wheat crossed over her chest, arching over the top of each breast and going parallel to her collarbone. The mask was covering over her eyes, more ornate filigree of wheat yet again curling over the left side of her face.
Really, aside from being skin tight and far outside of her preferred realm of clothing, it wouldn't have been so bad -- but then there was the cape. Not just the cape, but the damnable thigh-high boot-heels, which Barbara knew she'd need to be proving were a menace to society before the night was through.
Thus the black wheat knight joined in with the press of hidden faces and often familiar voices, laughing and sliding between and around people as she sought out the ones she was keeping an eye on.
Until she tripped and ending up crashing through some of the mosquito netting, a feat considering it was attached to a person, trapping both herself, the unlucky sod she'd tripped backward into, and a most unlucky mechanical parrot in a jumble of limbs and cape and netting on the floor.
"Oh no! I'm so sorry!" With the controlled fall, both she and her unfortunate partner in the fall were fine, for all they were now quite thoroughly startled. "Are you okay?" About time that her clumsy reputation at these kinds of events start to surface again. She couldn't be too presentable. That led to dangerous places. "Here, hold still, I think I can get us untangled --"
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Or what used to be the lulls between Games. This quell has changed that landscape as well.
Minimalism had been the key she used when the stylists, lacking a proper group of Tributes to primp and preen until they shone how they preferred, turned their collective eyes on her. Even then, she'd walked out wearing more black than she ever preferred, including the most ludicrous silver buckles with crossed ears of wheat that ended up looking almost bat-like around her waist. The same silver ears of wheat crossed over her chest, arching over the top of each breast and going parallel to her collarbone. The mask was covering over her eyes, more ornate filigree of wheat yet again curling over the left side of her face.
Really, aside from being skin tight and far outside of her preferred realm of clothing, it wouldn't have been so bad -- but then there was the cape. Not just the cape, but the damnable thigh-high boot-heels, which Barbara knew she'd need to be proving were a menace to society before the night was through.
Thus the black wheat knight joined in with the press of hidden faces and often familiar voices, laughing and sliding between and around people as she sought out the ones she was keeping an eye on.
Until she tripped and ending up crashing through some of the mosquito netting, a feat considering it was attached to a person, trapping both herself, the unlucky sod she'd tripped backward into, and a most unlucky mechanical parrot in a jumble of limbs and cape and netting on the floor.
"Oh no! I'm so sorry!" With the controlled fall, both she and her unfortunate partner in the fall were fine, for all they were now quite thoroughly startled. "Are you okay?" About time that her clumsy reputation at these kinds of events start to surface again. She couldn't be too presentable. That led to dangerous places. "Here, hold still, I think I can get us untangled --"