"Nice outfit," A woman's familiar baritone, penetrating the darkness long before the fire cuts out her shape. She sounds both resigned and placid. Tired but no less pleased— relieved, more like— to see her friend in one piece. Breathing comes a little easier. "Is that part of your usual hiking attire?"
Stepping carefully beside the fire, it's Ellen Ripley who takes up the spot nearest CT. She's dressed in plain underclothes and a robe she'd manage to pilfer from the Green Room, a vast improvement to her Orin's costume, which, like flesh peeled clean away from the body, glistened under the cruel stage lights. A terrible candy-red to match her muse's blood thirst. Black makeup smudges around her eyes where she's neglected to wipe them clean. Not very high on her priority list, as it turns out.
Sitting crossed-legged, Ripley's knee edges into the massive tulle jaws attempting to swallow CT.
Aftermath
"Nice outfit," A woman's familiar baritone, penetrating the darkness long before the fire cuts out her shape. She sounds both resigned and placid. Tired but no less pleased— relieved, more like— to see her friend in one piece. Breathing comes a little easier. "Is that part of your usual hiking attire?"
Stepping carefully beside the fire, it's Ellen Ripley who takes up the spot nearest CT. She's dressed in plain underclothes and a robe she'd manage to pilfer from the Green Room, a vast improvement to her Orin's costume, which, like flesh peeled clean away from the body, glistened under the cruel stage lights. A terrible candy-red to match her muse's blood thirst. Black makeup smudges around her eyes where she's neglected to wipe them clean. Not very high on her priority list, as it turns out.
Sitting crossed-legged, Ripley's knee edges into the massive tulle jaws attempting to swallow CT.
"How are you holding up?"