She politely averts her gaze as the Balladeer buttons up his overlarge blouse, which she rather envies. Greta could do with a bit more yardage when it comes to what she's stuck wearing.
"They usually are a bit more... steady," she agrees, looking about the bedroom, her gaze lingering on the bedsheets. Maybe she could repurpose one. Would that be too silly? It's not as if she hasn't seen women in Manhattan wearing more revealing clothes than this; she's just never been one of them, and the Balladeer knows full well that she'd never wear something like this by choice.
Before she can make any decisions one way or the other, a woman steps in, gapes at the two of them as if she's caught them doing something far more outrageous than 'stand about in bewilderment,' and then slaps the Balladeer furiously.
"Wh-!" Greta starts, appalled. It's a struggle to move in this preposterous dress, nor does it help that she's wearing high heels, and she stumbles a little as she attempts to make her way forward. "What was that for?!"
And then the woman rounds on her, looking equal parts heartbroken and downright murderous. Greta pulls up short, wobbling, and then hastily steps out of her shoes before she ends up twisting an ankle. "We..." she glances at the Balladeer for inspiration, then flaps a hand in exasperation. "Oh, for goodness sake. We don't even know you!"
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"They usually are a bit more... steady," she agrees, looking about the bedroom, her gaze lingering on the bedsheets. Maybe she could repurpose one. Would that be too silly? It's not as if she hasn't seen women in Manhattan wearing more revealing clothes than this; she's just never been one of them, and the Balladeer knows full well that she'd never wear something like this by choice.
Before she can make any decisions one way or the other, a woman steps in, gapes at the two of them as if she's caught them doing something far more outrageous than 'stand about in bewilderment,' and then slaps the Balladeer furiously.
"Wh-!" Greta starts, appalled. It's a struggle to move in this preposterous dress, nor does it help that she's wearing high heels, and she stumbles a little as she attempts to make her way forward. "What was that for?!"
And then the woman rounds on her, looking equal parts heartbroken and downright murderous. Greta pulls up short, wobbling, and then hastily steps out of her shoes before she ends up twisting an ankle. "We..." she glances at the Balladeer for inspiration, then flaps a hand in exasperation. "Oh, for goodness sake. We don't even know you!"