[center][b]Dressing room, Child[/b][/center]

”Miss. Please stand still. You are hurt!” The medic tending to her was in a state of panic. The youn half-blood was not taking the whole dress up for ball well. She had hollared and protested. She had gone from back to life and in shock to being a dressup doll. There was also people mistaking her for Dianas brood due to her Mask. Not that she had any idea who that lot were. But she didn't like being reffered to someone that belonged to anyone. So now she was dealing with a bunch of maids, a healer and sewstress. They had apprently sewn her a entire dress during her deep sleep. How they took her measurements so well she could only speculate in, and the more she did the angrier she got. Child was not strictly, a girl or a boy. And this had clearly not been accepted by her 'benefactors.' They consistently tried to get her wear frilly things. Her protests were soffocated as they suddenly snared the corset tight. Her still healing ribs screamed and she lost her breath. 

”GNuuhhh-stooop!” She finally cried out, grabbing one of the mads by the wrist and janking her close. She had somehow taken the scissor of the seamstress in the same motion and held it against the poor womans face. She was close to feinting. The Healer, clearly made of sterner stuff huffed and shook her head. ”You need to rest. Your chest is still recovering”

”Then why, are you, trying, to fit, me in, a GODDAMN CORSET!” Child objected, nearly loosing her temper completely. Somehow, the maids used this moment to snare a silken sash around her waist. The color was not terrible on her, but she looked less then pleased by this. Her scowl beneath the mask would have scared a rabid pitbull. But as the mask firmly hid anything but the rage in her eyes, peoples reactions were less timid even if the whole 'stabby' feeling was enough to keep the less brave ones at a distant.. 

”Becouse. Began the Healer. ”It's the ball.” Her face was settling ino a motherly frown. It was suprsingly oppressive and disarming. Child lowered the improvised weapon ever so slightly. Her arms crossed she met the eyes of the Healer who had a good 30 kilos on her, and some impressive scars of her own.

”So?” Child inquired, the maids stared at the two. They were cought between two rather scary people.

”Your presence would be appreciated. You are of the Queens Blades. You need to look more... formal. It would not do for you to represent them dressed in a broken piece of leather armor. Not very inspiring.” She wasn't budging, and Child could feel her anger dissepate. She slumped in defeat. 

”..Fine” Defeated, Child lost her hostile posture entirely. The maids were on her like welldressed piranhas. Soon enough she had a ballgown fit for nobility, sued in part, by the head maid who was beaming at Child. ”Perfe-” Her words cut short as child tore off the arms, ripped it in places and then demanded a pair of pants. One of the maids fainted, The healer dug her face into her palm and somewhere, a seamstress felt suddenly ill.