I need to wear button-down shirts at the hospital.
I don't have button-down shirts. I'm not a fashion plate, y'all... I'm a T-shirt-and-jeans girl. Every day. T-shirt and jeans. Predictable as the rise of the sun.
So. I have those three fancy tank-top corset-lookin' things, one of which appears in the new Elayna-and-Mommy icon. Those clasp down the front. But that's three tops. I need seven.
And I have nothing to sleep in that doesn't slip on over my head.
Yes, this actually kept me awake. Adam's lucky I didn't jump up and turn on the light to verify my wardrobe.
Okay, I need a bottle of this, STAT.
The Black Tower. Description: A sepulchral, desolate scent. Long-dead soldiers, oath-bound; the perfume of their armor, the chill wind that surges through their tower, white bone and blackened steel: white sandalwood, ambergris, wet ozone, galbanum and leather with ebony, teak, burnt grasses, English ivy and a hint of red wine.
On me... it goes on in a swirl of leather and red wine. The red wine dries away, though, and I'm left with well-worn leather and ivy.
The ivy of the castle at the center of Shayara, that's lain untouched for over a century waiting for the return of the Lishaya.
Yes. This is Julia's scent. Her jacket, her eyes, her hand pressed into the ivy. The scent becomes the rich bottle-green, forest-green, of House Tamra, with the worn leather of Julia's personal armor.
Torture King is Fenris. Black Tower is Julia.
Thank goodness it's a GC...