What is it you really want, a Soulmate or just a Perfect Warrior?

Where a closet gets raided.

“I’m sorry, ididntmeantoobesoweird, please don’t hate me..”

“Bit hypocritical if me if I did like, at least you actually pass as a girl, I used to be a right ugly twat. You did notice me wigging out over my new body when I got here, right?”

“Yes..?” Thats better, they(?)’re starting to calm down... and there goes a nice chillaxing evening.

“Yeah well, I used to look like crap when I tried dressing like a girl before, people humoured me, but it was always sorta patronising.” Ahhah idea, should be a pic on the tablet... let’s see, perfect, just before that dance... eww, forgot how bad I looked. “See, that is what I used to look like all of two days ago, next to someone about your size.”

... I can understand why they’re taking their time, I really looked terrible, depression fat, excessive body and facial hair, much better looking and sized friend right next to me, and a truly terrible dress, admittedly that was more an ‘only thing that fitted me that wasn’t stupid money’ rather than a deliberate choice, but it all adds up. “You looked like a troll.”

“Wow, thanks. But you get what I mean, you don’t look that bad, you look far better than I ever could have before.” ...maybe that pic wasn’t the best idea, what with how they’re rubbernecking between me and the tablet. “Hey could you look away for a bit, I need to get changed.”

I get a vague noise as they roll over away, and turn back to the wardrobe (like I’m going to chill/sleep in outdoors clobber if I don’t have to) The selection is mostly shifts, slips, petticoats and assorted other significantly sized and/or structural and otherwise old-school lingerie, I guess the outers are in the next one along (assuming that it actually is another wardrobe and not something else)

My attempt to pick something to wear is interfered with by the Queen of Bats offering advice, ‘so, this one is going to be your secret minion then.’

‘What, how'd you get to that?’ keep it cool crazy girl and just pick something to wear.

‘Oh come on, you’ve found out a major secret, and she isn't (so far as we know) part of these infantile courtly power plays. Securing the loyalty of the apparently way out of her depth mage is just sensible.’

‘It does make reasonable sense, even if it has come out of evil miss knife ears.’ ... that ‘evil’ bit sounds a little hypocritical from an murderous spy/assassin.

‘You’re all ganging up on me then.’ Ah, that one looks like it should fit; solid cream fabric, extra long sleeves with fitted wrists, and a shaped chest, perfect.

‘Not all, the cyborg and I aren’t that interested in this social drama. We’re happy taking a backseat until the fighting starts, no skin off our backs.’  No, cause it’s my back, bloody arrogant yankee.

‘I don’t care, I’m not doing this for some socio-political advantage bollocks, it’s just the right thing to do, now would you all shut up and let me get to it.’ ... at least the nightgown fits, pretty well as it turns out.

“Right then Markys, so what are we going to do with you?... I’m decent, you can look again.”

“You’re really not bothered by me being...” there’s a vague gesture at themselves.

“Seriously, just lie down and chill out, if you wanna talk about it we can, if you just want a night chillaxing away from all the lads and ilk we can do that. Now budge up a bit, there’s more than enough space for two on that bed.”

“No judgements?”

“Nope.”

“Just get to lie here like this?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, can we do that then?”

“Totally.”

There must be something really screwed up at wherever it is they keep their mages if the prospect of time alone is such a big deal. Well, it’s something to try and work out of them later, got 5 days sailing (and how is that working underground?) before we make land again... assuming that all this is real and not an hallucination.

“Thank you.”

“Really not a problem.”