As soon as Quinn got back in the lift and left the crowd behind, she let out a long, slow breath, and realized that she'd been holding it for a while. And for once, not solely out of anxiety; there had been a certain thrill in walking through the upper commons in full view and having people clustering around her—her alone—that she was quite unfamiliar with, but wasn't all unwelcome. 

As she stared at the image in the door, she reached out her hand, laying it against her reflection's and marveling at how different it looked. It was so...[i]sleek.[/i] Oh, what was that word she'd read in one of Dahlia's magazines once? Svelte? The last time she'd wore a dress was...well, it wasn't exactly a fun time for anybody—she felt her back teeth clench—but she was allowed to feel pretty now and then, right? She was allowed to feel pretty, and she was allowed to enjoy it when people cheered her name.

She'd somehow forgotten she was on the lift—it was just so quiet!—and [i]jumped[/i] when the doors slid open before her. Stepping out, she was once more enwrapped in the cream-colored quiet. She stood still for a moment, then reached a hand into her pocket to check the time—

Oh. That was right, she didn't have any pockets in this, did she?

Well, whatever. It was probably about half an hour after lunch, so it was time anyway. Making her swift walk down the hall back to her dorm, she stepped into the enormous walk-in closet, nearly tripped over her luggage that she still needed to unpack, reminded herself that she still needed to order a dresser, and quickly—or, as quickly as someone vastly out of practice could—divested herself of her fancy new clothing, sliding a coathanger carefully into it and hanging it up as the first addition to her closet. She stared at it for another moment and found herself smiling.

Then she emptied out the [i]Miséricorde[/i] bag, reclaimed her usual clothing, and popped it on. She breathed a sigh, one of paradoxical disappointment and relief, and checked the time for real this time. A little after one. It was a [i]little[/i] later than she wished, but it was still around the right time, and she couldn't in good conscience wait any longer or else she'd start feeling guilty for skipping training. Tying up the drawstring in her sweatpants, she cracked her neck. Then she unzipped her bag just enough to pull out her water bottle, filled it up with fresh water in the bathroom, took a long, deep breath, and whacked the button to open her door again, wheeled on her heel to the right, and set off towards the gym.