Sgt. Howard wrote:There was a momentary cranial flatline- then the paper was folded and stowed without a glance, he arouse and walked over to his wife to more closely ... examine... her wardrobe.
Now, there's a Freudian slip, if I've ever seen one...
Camouflage firmly in place, Emerauld observed silently the men showing off to their mates, her work hidden under many, as the silent guardians they were intended to be.
There was still one, who through no fault of his own, evaded his fitting...though she had a plan to remedy that.
"Good. They need this," she thought wistfully, as a powerful voice singing the last line of a song she once heard, echoed softly through her mind.
Forever is ours today...who has forever anyway?
"I do, despite my best attempts not to," she thought, a lone tear trailing down as she silently left to finish her plans.
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.
Sgt. Howard wrote:I REALLY have no idea where this one is going... but it HAD to happen, so here we go...
...actually, I DO have an idea... and thus, the change in the title...
Betcha you didn't know where this was going!
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
jwhouk wrote:When I got in to work, I was notified at the front communications center that I'd be sent down for my uniform fitting sometime after midnight.
"Oh joy, another hassle," was Lily's response.
Sure you don't want me to call Prescott's for you?
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
jwhouk wrote:When I got in to work, I was notified at the front communications center that I'd be sent down for my uniform fitting sometime after midnight.
"Oh joy, another hassle," was Lily's response.
Sure you don't want me to call Prescott's for you?
Or Debbie, should you want something of another era
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
Midnight came, and when I called in count, Cale informed me that after patrol was done picking up the mail and running call lights, they'd start relieving staff one cottage at a time.
"At the rate they do call lights, that'll be about 2 AM," I mused.
"Well, then," Lily said, downing one of her Haemo-Ginseng Blood shots, "We better get to doing ours."
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
All in the room took in the appearance of young Glytch- the layered hoods, the pure black and red, the minimal jewelry... certainly not your traditional concept of 'well dressed', but not unappealing by any stretch. There was a hush upon his initial appearance... but soon as the ladies absorbed the fact that this boy was in fact single, and as such could be flirted with without fear of any female's jealousy, the catcalls became loud and shameless. The men feigned shock and indignation at this outpouring, but nobody took it seriously... there had been libations making rounds, and each round made for a louder crowd of frenzied females. Greg walked over to the stereo system and (to everyone's amazement) produced some serious industrial strength 'Bump and Grind' music... then proceeded to strut like a stripper on the runway, slipping the shoulder of his frock coat, first on one side, then the other. The Girls went wild- this sixty-one year old man in layers of wool showing the agility of a college student and the brass of a carnival barker.
It was probably a good thing that Atsali and Castela were not there..
Soon Buck began to strut as well, 'bouncing' his pectoral muscles in time with the beat. Katherine turned forty shade of red, but still yelled her approval. Not to be outdone, Greg turn his back to the women and did the same thing with his butt muscles.
The Girls howled!
Last edited by Sgt. Howard on Thu Dec 03, 2015 1:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
jwhouk wrote:To keep all our friends who insist this is a fan ART subforum, I present - the Alexander Harvester "logo":
Interesting... but now you've got me thinking...
You're going to draw up the classic version, aren't you? Because that looks like the modern logo...
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
John hunched down and slowly slunk to the back of the room, taking advantage of the sudden surplus of distractions to keep everyone else occupied... Greg and Buck were showing off, Glytch was letting the ladies inspect and examine his clothes (they were rather touchy-feely about it, too), and Rowdy was beginning to live up to his name.
John made it to a window... He slowly raised a hand to unlatch the lock... Then he made a small heat barrier to keep the cold out and tried to quietly slide the window open... It stuck for a moment, before something gave way and the frame silently slid open. Breathing a sigh of relief, John clambered out the window, shut it behind him and ran as fast as he could to the back door, where he could sneak back up to his room. I'm not sure I even know how to properly wear a suit... And I definitely don't know how to tie that damned knot... And I'll need help with the stupid little, uh... Cuff... Things... John shook his head. The visit to Al's tailor went so fast that he couldn't really absorb how they put everything on him... Or what everything was called... And if he did know the name, he wasn't sure what it was for... What the hell is a brace, anyway?
Brandi and Bud tracked John back to his room. Brandi knocked, tentatively at first, then a bit louder.
John came to the door, looking pensive.
“Yes?”
“You need to suit up.”
“Why? This is a fashion show... And now it's a party. I don’t even know how to put the damn thing on, never mind why I should.”
“The why is simple. Did you notice Al watching how people are moving? There is a reason he cooperated with Daisy’s little scheme – and that reason is dead practical.
We are going to be going into a situation where everyone is going to have to move – and move fast. Tight, binding clothing is just not on allowable in a situation like that – lack of mobility can get someone killed.
He’s checking their battle uniforms.”
John thought momentarily, then nodded. This made sense. If someone couldn’t draw a weapon because it got stuck or couldn’t be reached, that was going to be a death sentence. Checking this now – especially in the way it happened was a serious win. John gave the old guy credit – there was a serious load of sneaky hiding under that grey hair.
“This means you, too. Get your suit and get dressed.”
John panicked for a second. He didn’t know what half the stuff was that had come with the suit.
“I-I can’t. I’m not sure what goes where.”
“Brandi smiled. “ That’s simple enough. Let’s have a look.” The two of them unpacked the bag from Prescott’s and Brandi was pleased at what she saw. Pity Prescott’s didn’t handle women’s clothes – she’d like a chance at them, too.
“Put on the shirt and pants, then call me back in. We’ll get you set up in a minute.”
With that, she and Bud stepped out.
Moments later, John was dressed in the shirt and trousers.
Back in, Bud looked at him and said “Not bad. This is going to work. Now, the cufflinks go into the ends of the sleeves instead of the buttons there.” She folded the sleeve ends back and set the links.
“The belt is obvious – be glad he didn’t give you suspenders – or braces as they call them in Britain.” John slid the belt through the loops, and set it.
“Sit down.”
Obediently, John sat down, then Brandi took the measure of the thin black tie against his chest, put it around her own neck, and tied a double-Windsor knot in it. Sliding it off her own head, she put it over Johns, tightened it up against his buttoned collar and then fastened it in place with the provided silver tie clip.
“Now – on with the jacket.” Jacket slid on and fastened with one button, then his ubiquitous cloak over it John was ready.
Brandi and Bud stepped back, looking at their handiwork. Brandi adjusted his tie a bit, then nodded in satisfaction.
“You make this look good. It’s not everyone can wear a cloak and make it look good – and with the range of dress we’re seeing you will fit right in.”
"So... Wait... Didn't someone mention 'braces' when I was getting all of this... Whatever those are?"
Bud smirked. "Braces are suspenders... And don't call what Al is wearing 'suspenders'."
"...why?"
"Because 'suspenders' to Brits are 'garter belts' to Americans."
John smirked. "I'm half tempted to make that 'mistake' just to see Al's reaction..."
Bud giggled. "Don't make the poor old man flustered when he's trying to work, alright? Maybe later."
At this, they reached the door into the main room... It had only gotten louder.
John stood still, staring at the door. Brandi gave him a soft push on the shoulder. "Go on, John. Let us have our fun, please?"
Steeling himself, John took a breath, squared his jaw, and went through the door.
He immediately regretted his decision. The ladies immediately began to catcall and whistle and shout at him, and John felt his skin getting hotter by the second.
He obeyed a command to take the cloak off, walk a little, and turn around to let everyone get a good look, then shot a very pointed look at Al. The old Brit chuckled and moved to John's side. "Relax... I'd say everyone could use a bit of fun."
"...I'm going to go relax on a chair in a corner."
Al shrugged. "Suit yourself. Things should calm down in a bit..."
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
Glytch was somewhat disappointed when John entered and gave the ladies a brief distraction, but also relieved... It took the pressure off of him, even if for only a moment.
He backed away from the current center of attention sidled up to Al. "Did you see where Atsali and Castela went?"
Al gave Glytch a questioning look, his brow furrowed. "No, all I know is they left before things got..."
"Mature?"
Al nodded. "Why do you ask?"
"Because Atsali's the one who asked if I had something special in store. I figured she'd want to see."
Glytch noticed John glaring daggers at Al... And he also noticed Bud closing on the sound system while the rest of the ladies locked their eyes on him again.
Al chuckled. "Your reprieve is at an end," he said in a warning tone before going to talk to John. I'll have to see if I can't track her down before its time to sleep... And I bet Eme' will want to have a look too... If nothing else, I want them to see this before it gets blown up or something at the wedding.
Glytch looked back at Bud, who was sporting a very wicked smile... She pressed a button, and the modern dance music was abruptly replaced with a tango.
"Ooooh no. No, no, no... No! No, I'm not gonna dance, ok? I said no! Ack, wait, now... Just hold on a second!" Glytch tried to resist, but he found he was trying to fight a tide of estrogen. Buck and Greg had already switched dances, finding their wives and performing the steps admirably... Buck and Kath were doing especially well. They were followed closely by Al and Daisy, then Bud and Kevin, who were also moving like professionals... Phix and Neil joined in shortly after.
Glytch fired a stern look toward Bud over Kevin's shoulder. She responded with a nearly predatory smile.
Glytch ground his teeth before returning the grin. Dancing. It had to be dancing. I could show off his clothes for the rest of the night, but no. She had to pick the one thing that makes me more socially nervous than anything else. Fine. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax. Then, with a flourish, he turned and bowed to Rosalita, extending a hand to her. "¿Puedo tener este baile, señorita?"
"¡Ooh, sí puedes!" Rosalita smiled and took his hand, and was immediately swept into an energetic tango.
From there, everyone switched partners a few times... He and Bud tried to out-dance each-other (she won)... His dance with Phix was about the most frightening and suspenseful thing Glytch had ever experienced.
Finally, everyone started to slow and sit, exhausted from the exuberant activities of the evening.
Then, Al stood up and cleared his throat loudly.
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
Al turned up the volume a notch and said, “All right you lot – stop mucking about and line up.” Justin, still being a bit reluctant about prying himself off his best girl, moved a bit slowly - which Al gleefully pounced upon.
"Come on then, OFFICER, you get to come and play too!" Al chuckled, pointing toward the line.
John, still hoping for security thorugh obscurity, didn't move. This of course did not go unnoticed. "Come on, then...you too... Don't make me come and get you!" With that the crowd chuckled, picturing the well-less-than-six-foot Brit hauling John about.
Somewhat confused but cooperative, the menfolk in their finery lined up at Al’s prodding. Looking to him, they wondered what was going to happen next.
“All RIGHT. Drop and give me twenty!”
Stunned, they said nothing – just stared.
“EXCUSE ME – DID YOU HEAR ME? I said DROP and give me TWENTY!”
Sarge and Neil looked at each other, shrugged and promptly got to work. The others, following the lead, dropped and did the same.
With this the ribaldry from the assembled female population started again, if anything slightly bluer than before. Neil and Greg, egging each other on, worked through their push-ups at a furious pace, then snapped back to attention.
“OKAY – Now I want to see hands on hips – twist to the LEFT! To The RIGHT! AGAIN! AGAIN!”
Stretching, twisting, the very overdressed exercise party went through the ordered maneuvers with little difficulty given their average age and physical condition. Al watched silently, examining each as they moved and twisted.
“Very good, gentlemen. This will do nicely. Thank you.”
Glytch boggled.
“Al, what the hell was that all about, other than entertaining the ladies?”
Brandi spoke up. “Yes, it was VERY entertaining – you guys are all fairly hot.” Bud snickered behind Brandi but said no more. Brandi continued. “However, there was a method to Al’s madness.”
“What you all just demonstrated is the ability to move and move freely in those monkeysuits. You’re all hot, but you’re also mobile – very mobile. This can save your lives.”
“The lady is right – and I applaud her astuteness. I had planned to talk to each of you individually on this, but Daisy gave me the perfect opportunity to get this out of the way. She got her fashion show, but it also served a good purpose.”
“Bravo – I applaud your common sense and your sartorial tastes. “
With that, Al collected his hat and topcoat, turned and headed back for his room. After a second Daisy headed in the same direction, a sly smile on her face.
“Well, we won’t be seeing them for a while.” Rowdy said, collecting a smack on the back of the head from his sister for his troubles. "Momma's happy, and so is he. What the hell are YOU complaining about?" Cinnamon said, to a round of snickers from the assemblage. Having no possible comeback to that that would not later get him smacked by both his mother and Al, Rowdy turned and headed for his room as he and the rest headed off to change back out of their finery.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
Donning the more modern ladies suit("I really need to find a gift for Glytch that doesn't take up a lot of room, because he has really outdone himself finding patterns and images of finished garments for me."), though with decidedly un-modern armour underneath, Emerauld placed the mask in her wrist pouch and headed to meet up with her sister, who was attired similarly at the portal to the library.
"That look 'suits' you," she said with no hint at hiding the mirth.
"*Grumble, mutter* stupid scarf *mutter, grumble* get even later *grumble, mutter*"
Nudge, looking up from her book(magazine carefully hidden inside), waved them on, then put the book down as she noticed their outfits, and the portal they were headed to.
"Wait a minute. That's ...Joe's portal. Why are you going there, and why are you going dressed like that?" Nudge said, tail wagging.
"Custom fitting. No, we have been told that you are not allowed to 'assist'," said Emerauld, solemnly, "and if you do insist, to read from this scroll. Please do not choose this option, Friend Nudge."
"No, no please do choose this option, Friend Nudge," replied her sister, shooting an amused feral grin.
"Tell him he's a spoilsport, and that that book he wanted is in."
"Not everything needs a trickster's touch."
"I know! But now everyone's assuming I have a prank war planned just to come over for tea and conversation. It's not easy to be casual when this generation has...less...thought behind them. There are so few who understand the lessons behind the tricks, that they think of me in the same mold as Marvel's Loki. Comic books are modern picture books, and more recently, moving pictures."
"While I do understand, this comes from MIB, and they do not want you at his workplace."
"Fine. Portal is open."
Donning the masks that changed their appearance into human, they turned and waved at Nudge, who muttered something about Reservoir Dogs and the unfairness of it all.
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.
---
"What are these things we wear around our necks, again?"
"Madam Brandi called them 'identification badges.' We need them to gain access to Joseph's place of work."
"I do not feel comfort in walking into a jail, with no protection."
"That's why I'm here," came a voice from a redhead with glasses, who stood next to an older vehicle in the parking lot of whence they left the portals. "Agent McBride, MIB. You must be the two drow ladies. I'm your escort to Joe's workplace."
The place where they emerged was what humans called a "parking lot" - and it did not seem natural at all. The land underneath groaned from the unnatural concoction atop it, and the woods next to it appeared slightly barren.
"This is what humans call a 'jail'?" Safyr asked, somewhat confused.
"No," Suzie said, pointing behind them. "That is what humans call a 'church.' Though Joe tells me it's only been that for a year now."
"Odd," Emerauld said. "How are we to get to Joe's workplace at such a time as this? It is near midnight..."
"We will - they're expecting us," Suzie said. "I hope neither of you mind taking a 'horseless carriage' to the place; sadly, I can't teleport - and you'd look out of place if you just suddenly appeared at the institution."
"In-sti-Tu-s'hion?" Emerauld asked.
"Wait - you mean to take us in this contraption?" Safyr's face dropped.
"Hey now! I know it's not the LTD, but I got this FIrebird with my first paycheck with the MPD Special Investigations unit." She opened the passenger door for Emerauld. "One of you is going to have to get in the back seat. Sorry about the mess..."
---
The two drow both did their best to keep from wretching on the drive up to the institution. Safyr concentrated on the woods that seemed to reach out to the road they rode upon - there was much in the way of wildlife and creatures that filled the land, but she also could smell some of the foul chemicals that she had seen Fae Cavin and others ingest in times past.
Suzie pulled the car into a parking spot near the entrance. "Okay, ladies, you have your cues, right?"
"Uh, we are here from 'central office' in 'Madison' to help with the 'fittings of the uniforms' for their staff," Emerauld rattled off.
"Yeah. You have any questions, just ask me. I'm already pretty good with his supervisor; I think I can have it where you just go up to his cottage."
"Koh-tage?" Safyr asked.
"It's where he works, specifically."
Suzie couldn't help but shake her head as the three wandered in to the front gate. Safyr and Eme were overwhelmed by the sterility - and size - of the whole thing. Suze had already called and spoken to the supervisor; he was willing to allow them to go directly to Joe's cottage to do the measuring.
"Jackpot," Suzie said. "They're going to get us a ride over to his cottage - it's on the other side of the institution."
Eme grumbled something about not liking to play human, but she patiently walked with Suzie through the bowels of the large building - and up a long flight of stairs to another open hallway.
Once out of the building, Safyr commented, "If we do not need to leave through that building, it would be greatly appreciated."
"I'm not sure about that," Suze replied. "I'll see what I can do."
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
