Her wet hair trailed behind her, somehow managing to sprawl out like a half-hearted cape, even though the rain drove down in a vertical stream so strong it felt as if she was standing directly underneath a waterfall. And it wasn't just her hair, either. Everything about Ebony, at that moment, screamed Ebony. Her manicured fingernails, though still sticky from the ectoplasm and covered in heaven knows what else, weren't broken and somehow still managed to look fabulous. Her earrings still managed to tinkle like little bells, despite the orchestra of clashes, thunder and rumblings from the storm above. There was integrity to her visage, her form. It seemed for just a moment, that it didn't matter if Ebony was standing at the counter of her bookstore taunting detectives and laughing lasciviously with a lollipop sticking out of her mouth, or running through the drenching rain to a crypt to save the world from Death. Ebony was Ebony wherever she went. Though to the careful eye, one might realize that the more Ebony ran, and the closer she came to her destination, the more and more she looked like herself.
