[She was not going to continue wearing those awful clothes for much longer. So, after storming about on Eltrut for a while and causing several scenes, she returns to the ship briefly to help herself to some newer, cleaner, more fitted ones. They were hanging up in an unattended room with no sign of anyone, so they were rife for the taking. Clearly, if they were that important, they would have either locked their room or they would be wearing them.
And these clothes suit her far better than they would anyone else, anyway. Black leathers always have.
But yes, that "loud bitch" who was "screeching like a banshee" at the tattoo shop he heard about is indeed her. When the line is taking too long, she has much to say about it. Mainly, how the fuck does an eight-handed tattoo artist still have such a long fucking line at his shop!?
She is aggravated, restless, fucking starving, without magic, without Garuda, without her sword, without anything, and she has never felt more lost. And with so many people around, it's only natural that she takes it out on them.
Benedikta is in the middle of storming out of the line when she sees Cidolfus. She stops, stares at him, that tide of fury ebbing somewhat before it comes right back in like a riptide—]
no subject
And these clothes suit her far better than they would anyone else, anyway. Black leathers always have.
But yes, that "loud bitch" who was "screeching like a banshee" at the tattoo shop he heard about is indeed her. When the line is taking too long, she has much to say about it. Mainly, how the fuck does an eight-handed tattoo artist still have such a long fucking line at his shop!?
She is aggravated, restless, fucking starving, without magic, without Garuda, without her sword, without anything, and she has never felt more lost. And with so many people around, it's only natural that she takes it out on them.
Benedikta is in the middle of storming out of the line when she sees Cidolfus. She stops, stares at him, that tide of fury ebbing somewhat before it comes right back in like a riptide—]
I don't have time for this.
[—and she storms off in the other direction.]