shrewdly: (pic#)
ᴍᴀʀɢᴀᴇʀʏ ᴛʏʀᴇʟʟ ([personal profile] shrewdly) wrote in [community profile] exsiliumlogs 2013-08-20 09:48 am (UTC)

[ Cooling one's own body with magic is a brilliant notion when not surrounded by individuals; inadvertently colliding with another might lead to accusations of Edward Cullen stalking the streets. Thankfully, Margaery has no knowledge of strange teenage romance literature, nor does the population of 1794, so that comparison is (fortunately) one no one can make.

He relaxes underneath the gentle nature of her fingertips and she smiles, satisfied with her ability to alleviate a portion of his disease. It wouldn't do for Donny to be tense and anxious lest they wish to compromise themselves, after all, but her concerns aren't strictly business-related.

She nods in acknowledgement of his voiced gratitude while he responds to her banter and, as always, Margaery is quite adept at translating mild incoherence into eloquent sentences. ]


More stifling?

[ It's part jest, part truth. While the fashions of the era and location are fascinating in their own right, she's much more accustomed to looser, draped fabrics rather than the constricting material of the gowns she's been provided with. Regardless, she moves as though she's been donned in lace brocaded corsets and magnificent skirts for eons. ]

Highgarden's dresses were never so — [ a beat. ] — ornate.

[ That's the nicest way to say the dress they've shafted her with at the start of the mission is not up to her standards. ]

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