She shrugs her shoulders. A contingency plan for the clothing seems a little on the weaker side, given all the war she's been involved in during her short stay on the ground. It feels a little childish to even propose and think up one on clothes, but she can see, from her own experiences, why it's important.
The clothing colours represent a divide. Raven knows it all too well from her time on the Ark and how some of those old traditions and rules have followed them to Arkadia.
If she's proposing a contingency plan, she supposes it's one to ensure the way they perceive one another isn't based on coloured cloth.
"We give them our own meaning and we stick to it, just like Veronica suggested. But we go a little further than that. Make our own clothes to wear, colour them up, make them like the damn rainbow dropped out of the sky and onto you. We mix and match the clothes. We dye them a colour we choose. You want to stick it to the man in charge? Change it up a little. Maybe I could wear a red shirt instead of grey."
She unfolds her arms then, and lets her fingers of one crawl up the other in a bid to keep any nervous energy she has under control. She's not one for plans when it comes to this sort of strategy. She doesn't do well at the table, too bored with the conversation and too restless to return to tinkering with the bits and pieces at her workstation.
"The colours are meant to divide us. We do what happened at my home — we share, we disregard the rules, we stick together and show that we're not easily torn apart.
no subject
The clothing colours represent a divide. Raven knows it all too well from her time on the Ark and how some of those old traditions and rules have followed them to Arkadia.
If she's proposing a contingency plan, she supposes it's one to ensure the way they perceive one another isn't based on coloured cloth.
"We give them our own meaning and we stick to it, just like Veronica suggested. But we go a little further than that. Make our own clothes to wear, colour them up, make them like the damn rainbow dropped out of the sky and onto you. We mix and match the clothes. We dye them a colour we choose. You want to stick it to the man in charge? Change it up a little. Maybe I could wear a red shirt instead of grey."
She unfolds her arms then, and lets her fingers of one crawl up the other in a bid to keep any nervous energy she has under control. She's not one for plans when it comes to this sort of strategy. She doesn't do well at the table, too bored with the conversation and too restless to return to tinkering with the bits and pieces at her workstation.
"The colours are meant to divide us. We do what happened at my home — we share, we disregard the rules, we stick together and show that we're not easily torn apart.
"And if that fails, we just parade around naked."