“ ... okay, maybe we shoud try something different. ”
head will cant to the side, nose scrunched as her heeled foot taps against the floor with sight impatience; blue dress in Clary’s hand is quickly taken from her and thrown back into the wardrobe without a second glance. The truth of the matter is, Isabelle has no idea how to dress up people other than her ( a lonely childhood of wrestling Alec into letting her put makeup on him was as close as she got to it ), and despite the aparent and carefully crafted overconfidence she manages to exude, she has little knowledge of social skills when it comes to other women. Men? Sure, she’ll play them like a kazoo; but more often than not, her attempts at friendliness with other girls end up with her seeming haughty or arrogant.
Is that what social anxiety is supposed to feel like? Is this what mundies pay hundreds of dollars for therapists to fix? If so, it truly sucks.
Shadowhunters aren’t allowed to struggle with mundane things. Shadowhunters aren’t allowed to feel.
“ i think we need to try the black one again, ” the dress Clary was so against putting on, claiming it was too short and too tight. It seems she doesn’t really enjoy showing off her curves, which is a foreign concept for Isabelle ( she is a showoff, according to Jace, but her mother is even worse ). thus, she throws the black dress back to her companion, “ i know you’re into the whole ‘mundane bohemian chic’ aesthetic, but this is a nightclub, and we’re there to meet some really gritty vampires, who really love hot chicks ” it’s a power play, she assumes, that the supernatural creatures roaming this city seem to enjoy toying with humanity’s most basic cravings and desires, “ if we’re gonna get any intel from them, it won’t be dressed in flannels and jeans. no offense, C, stained overalls are not it,” a playful smirk curves on cherry lips, she adds, “ c’mon, we still gotta get to the heels part, and who knows how long it’ll take me to teach you how to walk on five inch pumps ! ” @cl4ry
