prompt two;

[As you wander the town today, it might not be surprising to see a young woman in formal wear. For whatever reason, it seems to be affecting the entire town, after all. What might be more unusual is the fact that she's seated on the ground, trying to rip off the skirt of this dress from the knee down. It's in vain, of course, and she's muttering to herself all the while.]

Fuck these clothes, fuck this place, fuck this fabric in particular...

[When she notices anyone come close, though, she picks herself up and dusts herself off.]

Hey, you wouldn't happen to have, like, a really sharp pair of scissors, would you? [A beat.] Or a knife? A knife works too.

prompt four;

[Once her journey through the woods is through, she takes a moment to straighten her dress and pluck (most) of the leaves out of her hair with a series of frustrated sighs. When she sees the sight that awaits her, though, she can't say that she finds it worth the trip. Crossing her arms and looking out at the flowers, she turns to whoever happens to be close by with a frown.]

They're kind of creepy, right? Like, I don't think I'm being paranoid when I say that these are extra creepy as far as flowers go.

[As expected, given that concern, she doesn't seem to be making any kind of move to go closer or touch them just yet.]