Almost Showtime

Posted on Tue Oct 15th, 2019 @ 12:57am by

Mission: For Whom The Bell Tolls
Location: Cassandra's Quarters
Timeline: MD9, 0930
475 words - 1 OF Standard Post Measure

The shoes: black suede pumps adorned with black studs at the toe. Four-and-a-half inch black heels. Nothing anyone in their right mind would think of walking in for any significant amount of time. They were, however, surprisingly comfortable. They were old shoes, but well maintained. The suede looked brand new. The studs were minuscule mirrors: one could see their face on them, however distorted by the metal.

The dress: also black, knee-length, a fabric blend. Crew neck, elbow-length sleeves. It was her signature black dress; it formal and modest enough for diplomatic meeting, yet extremely versatile. Worn by itself, it didn't make much of a statement. Paired with the right accessories, even an empress would be impressed.

The accessories: these were the statement-making items. A thin black leather belt, cinching her waist. A custom-made gold band choker necklace, worn over the dress's neckline. It was to look as if it were an integral part of the garment. Gold bar dangle earrings for lobe piercings. Gold studs adorned with black diamonds had been reserved for the cartilage piercings on her left ear.

The make-up: a classic black cat eye. She wanted to draw the High Matriarch's gaze to her eyes: only dramatic make-up would do. She knew the rule: dramatic eye, subtle lip, and vice-versa. She had chosen a light shade of pink lipstick and a minimal amount of blush to complete her face. Any tattoos that may have been visible, such as the Norse rune behind her right ear, had been expertly covered up. Any one crossing her path would be none the wiser. Her nails had been manicured the previous night: trimmed, polished, and coated with a shade of nude. Her hands could absolutely not distract the High Matriarch from her eyes.

The hair: a pompadour ponytail. The hairstyle alone had taken more time than choosing all the other elements, combined. The washing, drying, combing, styling; there was a reason she didn't style her hair as such very often. But this hairstyle in particular gave her an air of supreme confidence, which was what she needed. It was also what the High Matriarch needed to see: a strong, confident mediator. Otherwise, she would be chewed alive.

Cassie looked at herself in her full-length mirror. Everything was in place: not a stray hair or piece of string. All the elements were crisp, and shouted confidence. She wasn't looking at Cassie Reed, young diplomat still starting her career, the girl nervous about meeting a head of state by herself. She was looking at Cassandra Leblanc, the successful, fearless diplomat. The one who made this complicated and complex field of work look easy.

Cassie looked at Cassandra, and smirked. "You got this," she whispered. "Time to get this show on the road."

She grabbed her PADD, straightened her back, and indeed, got that show on the road.