crystal.

[elegiaque]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Gwenaëlle Baudin
RECIPIENT: You lot.

( this might be the soonest that she's ever begun a crystal message for the gallows after having done one within a month or so. gwenaëlle's voice, again, briskly businesslike: )

Before we all fuck off to parts unknown, if you're within a few inches of my height and happen to wear mostly or ever dresses, and you're in need of something suitable to wear out in the cities, I am clearing a great deal of my old wardrobe. I can help with on the spot alterations, but anything that's going to need to be properly taken apart for you will obviously have to wait.

If you don't need a dress to look presentable in Nevarra City and you just want to rifle through my old clothes for something you might like, that's also fine. I'm doing my prep before we leave, and if I'm not on the boat, Guilfoyle will be. He's a dab hand with a needle.

( on the boat, a profusion of mostly creamy, neutral fabrics have taken over the gallery that opens out from her entrance hall: sorted loosely by styles, fabrics, colours, patterns, the cushions that usually occupy the space shunted into a corner, some dresses that need hanging put up over the top of the art that hangs between the wide windows. there are shoes, some placed with the dresses they were bought to match, others just lined up along the narrow walkaway that rings the room around the conversation pit; several grand hats, a few cloaks and coats.

some of it will be familiar, if you've been here for long enough, but she suspects most of the probable handful people who might be interested won't have been; will not recognise her in the things she is giving away. )

Comments

[elegiaque]

The point of this exercise, ideally, is to give away things that I liked so that other people can enjoy them, or have meaningful use of them,

( very dryly, )

you're not getting anything for insulting my taste or that you'll be fucking miserable wearing.

[brennvin]

( She doesn’t backpedal or apologise, but: )

It’s not about your taste. You look good in your taste. Just—

You’re Forces. How do you fight in a dress? Any tips? I’ve never not been in pants. Like, ever.

[elegiaque]

Mostly I don't, ( is the honest answer. ) I've lost a couple of dresses to tearing the skirt off and hitching what's left, but if I know I'm going to be fighting, I plan ahead, you know, if I know I'm going to have to take the dress off then it needs to be easier to do and ideally something under it that's more suitable, but best case scenarios aren't always an option.

My work clothes don't involve dresses.

[brennvin]

Mostly I’m thinkin’ of times I won’t be able to get away with work clothes. ( Yseult’s probably not going to fling Astrid in the deep end with something deep undercover at a nobles’ ball, but there’s fewer people in Scouting than in Forces. Necessity, mother of invention, blah blah. )

Maybe— I’ve leggings underneath and then a dress or skirt with some fastenings I could quickly undo and drop, so it doesn’t have to be torn or damaged?

Cos I do appreciate it, captain. Don’t want it to seem like I don’t.

[elegiaque]

( her tone suggests relent— )

I'll set a few things aside and we'll see what we can't make work, when there's more time. And there are options for formal wear, and even with dresses, where we can include the trousers purposefully. You'll just need nicer trousers, too.

[brennvin]

( Simply, warmly: ) You’re aces.