"Died?" She looked down at the dress. "No, it was quite alive. Genengineered. It only lived for one night though, and if you stayed out dancing too long it just withered up and fell off."

She stroked the tendrils through her fingers. "Poor things."

"And the occasion was," she frowned, "some sort of memorial victory celebration, for some old battle that involved an ocean. Or was it an interstellar hydrogen bomb? Get enough history under your belt, and there's a reason for a party every night. At the time I felt entirely put upon by the whole process." A shrug. "I was pretty obnoxious back then. Even more so than now."