As parties went, it had been mostly unremarkable on the larger scale; another of the large gatherings that took place from time to time, notable mostly because it was Festivity in the Face of Fear or some such
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"I think I pulled another stitch dancing with Harkness," Maladicta muttered, one arm crossed over her chest, gently plying at the fabric of her dress with her fingertips over the bandage.
"I thought stitches were supposed to... to stay where they were."
"They do, if you're more careful about it," Sacharissa said, but her heart wasn't in even pretending to scold. She had an arm looped through one of Maladicta's, and she couldn't stop smiling for long. It was a perfectly lovely evening. The matter of when and how they would ask Maladicta was the one problem -- no, not problem. Challenge. It was a challenge, which they would solve fairly soon. She just hadn't figured out how to put it, was all.
"I think you're supposed to let stitches stay where they are so they can do their job, more than anything," William said, although his heart wasn't in the scolding any more than Sacharissa's was.
Possibly they should have had some sort of strategy session at some point.
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"I thought stitches were supposed to... to stay where they were."
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Possibly they should have had some sort of strategy session at some point.
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"...well, graphic. But also easy."
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