It had taken her well, a week, basically, but Cara had finally managed to get every single, solitary speck of glitter off of her leathers. Or rather out of, since it was the glitter on the inside that had been the real problem.

But now that that had been taken care of, she sat cross-legged on the bed, leathers draped over her lap, beeswax and cloth in hand, carefully buffing them to a shine.

[Door cracked. Post open.]

Clad in that old shirt of Richard's, Cara sat cross-legged on the floor with her leathers spread out before her, boots and gloves carefully off to the side.

It had taken hours, hours, to get all the glitter off. The stuff stuck like glue to whatever it touched, it was worse than blood. But, finally. It. Was. All. Off.

A strand of hair fell in front of her face. She glared balefully as it sparkled in the sunlight. All off her leathers, at least. She was going to have serious words with certain furry miscreants next week. Not that they'd listen.

[ooc: closed door, open post, sparkly mord'sith]