CoV ficlet: Sneakers Don't Count as Formal
In reaction to laridian's fic here and Black Sunday's auspicious nomination!
In the middle of the night, as usual, Shade dragged into the base, fresh from an extended tour of duty in the Rikti War Zone. He felt battered and tired, really wished the Deathtrap hadn’t already closed because he really frickin’ wanted a beer, and was in need of a shower without a doubt. Invisible in his shadow aura, he yawned as he passed through the base in the direction of his cluttered little room.
He spotted the new announcement on the bulletin board and stopped to read it. He frowned and blinked, squinting at the notice to read it again. They were being nominated for… Best Dressed Supervillain Team? Buh? How in the hell had that happened? Shade looked down at his battered leather jacket, jeans and t-shirt, all sporting permanent holes where his spines popped.
Well, I sure the hell didn’t contribute to that, he snorted to himself with a roll of his eyes.
He had no desire to go to a fancy function like that. Damn, he knew he’d be so out of place. His only decent outfit, which he’d gotten specifically for the double date he and Tiny had been supposed to go on with Harrly and Atratus, was only marginally fancy. He’d gotten it on the cheap and had noticed the last time he wore it that the fabric of the sleeves and the rest of the jacket didn’t even match. Plus he’d gotten grease on the shirt when he decided to work on salvage while wearing it. So, that was no good.
Not to even mention that the thought of a swanky event like that sort of made Shade’s skin crawl. He simply wasn’t a very social person, and especially not when it was likely his every move would be closely scrutinized. No thanks. Not even if there was a bar. And dance?! They had to be kidding.
So, Shade figured he’d be skipping that one. He continued on his way to his room, figuring the event would be forgotten in a matter of minutes, but he slowed down as he walked, finding himself chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully.
Okay, so he didn’t find the thought of attending an award ceremony appealing in the least. But… what if Tiny wanted to go?
Shade groaned. If she did, then he knew he’d be willing to put up with it for her sake. He’d better ask her.
In the middle of the night, as usual, Shade dragged into the base, fresh from an extended tour of duty in the Rikti War Zone. He felt battered and tired, really wished the Deathtrap hadn’t already closed because he really frickin’ wanted a beer, and was in need of a shower without a doubt. Invisible in his shadow aura, he yawned as he passed through the base in the direction of his cluttered little room.
He spotted the new announcement on the bulletin board and stopped to read it. He frowned and blinked, squinting at the notice to read it again. They were being nominated for… Best Dressed Supervillain Team? Buh? How in the hell had that happened? Shade looked down at his battered leather jacket, jeans and t-shirt, all sporting permanent holes where his spines popped.
Well, I sure the hell didn’t contribute to that, he snorted to himself with a roll of his eyes.
He had no desire to go to a fancy function like that. Damn, he knew he’d be so out of place. His only decent outfit, which he’d gotten specifically for the double date he and Tiny had been supposed to go on with Harrly and Atratus, was only marginally fancy. He’d gotten it on the cheap and had noticed the last time he wore it that the fabric of the sleeves and the rest of the jacket didn’t even match. Plus he’d gotten grease on the shirt when he decided to work on salvage while wearing it. So, that was no good.
Not to even mention that the thought of a swanky event like that sort of made Shade’s skin crawl. He simply wasn’t a very social person, and especially not when it was likely his every move would be closely scrutinized. No thanks. Not even if there was a bar. And dance?! They had to be kidding.
So, Shade figured he’d be skipping that one. He continued on his way to his room, figuring the event would be forgotten in a matter of minutes, but he slowed down as he walked, finding himself chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully.
Okay, so he didn’t find the thought of attending an award ceremony appealing in the least. But… what if Tiny wanted to go?
Shade groaned. If she did, then he knew he’d be willing to put up with it for her sake. He’d better ask her.