Salomé
- Ingenious Pilot -
Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Oct 21, 2008 11:33:58 GMT -5
Salomé was not one for dour outfits, but unfortunately for her, all her glittery garments were underneath the black trousers and shirtwaist that she'd donned. Despite feeling the silk stockings and garters underneath the pants, she felt thwarted, like a stretching sexual root had been cut by a shovel before it could reach water and nourish the tree.
Not one for self-sacrifice, Salomé tried to convince herself, as she snuck - not reeking of predatory female muse-ness for once, hidden in the mannish attire - into the Opera House and down the hallways - that this was worth it. After all, she knew how to do ballet. What kind of dancing didn't she know? She'd had long enough to learn it all. And she wanted to see what she'd be getting herself into if she decided to throw herself into the mix as a ballerina.
Tiptoeing down the hallway in conspicuously feminine boots with pointed toes and humming "Babooshka" under her breath, Salomé approached the first door that came across her and peered in.
((I hope the anachronisms aren't too noticeable/bad/whatever.
Also I hope I wasn't expected to tag anybody. There are too many people here. *strangles self* I don't care whose dressing room it is, by the way.))
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