rose_griffes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rose_griffes) wrote2008-07-07 03:05 pm
rose_griffes) wrote2008-07-07 03:05 pm
BSG ficlet (reveals yet again my clothing obsession)
This is what happens when I get to watch What Not to Wear again. Spoilers for Battlestar Galactica episode 4.3ish.
An Eight--she called herself Andrea--stood naked in the center of the room. She was completely still, arms raised above her head in a graceful pose... while a centurion took her measurements. "This time I want a pleated skirt, something with a lot of fullness." Andrea twirled to demonstrate that she wanted something that could swish, then looked at the centurion. It shook its head once. "Okay, fine," she snapped. "Make it a tulip skirt."
As the centurion left a platinum-haired Six entered. She had an angry frown on her face but waited to speak until the centurion was out of sight. "Do you know what one of those things did?" she said with a fierce whisper, pointing down the hallway in the direction the centurion had gone. "Look!" She held out a box.
Andrea took it and read aloud: "Lady May's hair color for women. Dark honey blonde."
"Can you believe it?!" The Six was incensed. "I didn't ask for an opinion! Besides, what do they know?"
With a rather unsympathetic smile Andrea replied, "It could've been worse. Three of the scissor-hand centurions brought me an eight-page printout of what clothing styles are most flattering to my figure."
* * *
Natalie pressed her lips together, counted to ten in her head and tried again. "Yes, the black pumps you brought me do match the belt. But sometimes you don't want to be too matchy-matchy. These silver heels," she held them up for emphasis, "don't clash but make a nice contrast with the darker color."
The centurion looked at the metallic sandals, then held up the black heels again with an insistent manner. Natalie wasn't sure but she thought maybe its red eye-sensor was moving faster than before... like it was agitated. So she took the black shoes.
* * *
Leoben turned to his fellow Two. "Would you look at this," he spluttered. "These pants have been pressed! And I can't find any of our floral print shirts!"
His duplicate nodded sadly. "They can think now but they still don't see the patterns that we see." He pointed to his own plain tee and neat flat-front trousers with a wistful shrug.
An Eight--she called herself Andrea--stood naked in the center of the room. She was completely still, arms raised above her head in a graceful pose... while a centurion took her measurements. "This time I want a pleated skirt, something with a lot of fullness." Andrea twirled to demonstrate that she wanted something that could swish, then looked at the centurion. It shook its head once. "Okay, fine," she snapped. "Make it a tulip skirt."
As the centurion left a platinum-haired Six entered. She had an angry frown on her face but waited to speak until the centurion was out of sight. "Do you know what one of those things did?" she said with a fierce whisper, pointing down the hallway in the direction the centurion had gone. "Look!" She held out a box.
Andrea took it and read aloud: "Lady May's hair color for women. Dark honey blonde."
"Can you believe it?!" The Six was incensed. "I didn't ask for an opinion! Besides, what do they know?"
With a rather unsympathetic smile Andrea replied, "It could've been worse. Three of the scissor-hand centurions brought me an eight-page printout of what clothing styles are most flattering to my figure."
Natalie pressed her lips together, counted to ten in her head and tried again. "Yes, the black pumps you brought me do match the belt. But sometimes you don't want to be too matchy-matchy. These silver heels," she held them up for emphasis, "don't clash but make a nice contrast with the darker color."
The centurion looked at the metallic sandals, then held up the black heels again with an insistent manner. Natalie wasn't sure but she thought maybe its red eye-sensor was moving faster than before... like it was agitated. So she took the black shoes.
Leoben turned to his fellow Two. "Would you look at this," he spluttered. "These pants have been pressed! And I can't find any of our floral print shirts!"
His duplicate nodded sadly. "They can think now but they still don't see the patterns that we see." He pointed to his own plain tee and neat flat-front trousers with a wistful shrug.
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Pretty, pretty Cylons!
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