After commissioning  halcy0n to draw her interpretation of a more elaborate Gothy dress for Rowena, I was inspired to take it even further for a final image that officially concludes the sequence. I love taking concepts to extremes, especially when it comes to things I love, such as Goth couture. This design is my extension of Halcy0n's extension of my original design, so this has basically become a collaboration.

Continued from this TF sequence: FIRST | SECOND | THIRD

Rowena had no sooner finished her bottle of water than she felt her thirst return. Her dress was like an oven in the hot summer sun, and her increasingly heavy hair was acting like a blanket.

With every step of her eight-inch, high-heeled platform boots -- whose ridiculousness went thankfully unseen beneath the massive frills comprising the base of the dress -- her outfit grew. Its circumference widened inch by inch while more layers of dark fabric appeared, accompanied by bows and lace trim. Even the parasol gained additional features, including a veil, which made it more difficult to carry.

"Woe be it for myself to succumb to the rigors of these burdensome accouterments," she said in a weak voice. She tightened her grip on the handle, worried about dropping it through the fingers of her slippery silk gloves. The thought of bending down to retrieve it in her current state made her dizzy.

Determined, she continued placing one foot in front of the other, slowly shuffling out of the park and toward her home. Often a passerby would falter or completely stop in their tracks upon seeing her, and the wider her dress got, the more people had to walk bigger arcs to keep out of her way. She tried to offer apologies, but her voice was quite weak from the overall weariness of her ordeal, and still insisted upon speaking in the most convoluted fashion, that her expressions of regret never made it to their intended targets' ears before they moved on.

And then some people took pictures. Rowena's blushing cheeks complimented her pale complexion, adding a small bit of color to the stark woman.

Upon finally making it to her house, Rowena grabbed as much fabric as she could and lifted the front of her dress. She was reminded of a time when she pulled a duvet off a king-size mattress. Taking extremely careful steps, she walked up the front stoop. After a bit of rummaging, she found her keys in her purse and pushed her dress through the doorway into the icy cool interior.

She pulled her shimmering white hair into the hall, as it was now dragging on the ground by several yards, and shut the door once it was all inside. She leaned with her back against the door, sighing with relief.

And then her dress and hair disappeared, along with her tall platforms, causing her to tumble to the floor.

A few seconds later, she recomposed herself and found that she was back in her original hoodie and shoes, with her hair its normal length and volume. Standing back up and brushing it out of her face, she looked around and saw no trace of her Gothic costume.

She turned her head up to the ceiling and shouted "OH COME ON!"

She wiped some lingering sweat from her forehead as she trudged up the stairs to take a shower. The mischievous forces of magic had once again succeeded in making her day out a bizarre and unnecessarily complicated experience.

"It could have at least let me keep the dress," she muttered.

The end.