hah, these clothes dare challenged the progeny of the gods themselves? foolish sentiment.

or not so foolish since they declared combat on two battlefields vegas had little chance with: price and size. thumbing a tag with disapproval, squinting at a price in what was probably disbelief, the mighty hero vegas heaved a sigh and instead chose to drop it back done and lean on the railing the tagged clothing had from with what he felt was due exasperation. it caused the security guard at the front of the shop to shift slightly but vegas appeared to give no indication of noticing, instead loudly taking a breathe before announcing, “honourable parker, vegas must surrender.”

“for his mortal mind hath been slain this day. slain by the innumerable – nay, incalculable — boutiques in new york and their ceaseless pricing.”

forsooth, vegas had brought the fate on himself. out in nyc for the day julio had at one point plain insisted that the stores would be given a chance, as if he hadn't expected astronomic prices and certain failure. as ever, he'd started the task with insurmountable enthusiasm but after several goes it was very much apparent julio had traded in that for something more death scene as one clothing rack plain creaked under his weight.

“will vegas' treasured companion seek revenge?” he kept despair and drama at adequate levels in his voice but julio didn't look back right yet, “could he shoulder demands, or even whims, of lady fate?” that was his cue. pushing off and twisting to get a look at the other behind him, vegas intended to strike a pose but he halted. vegas' eyes were on something behind parker and once where he'd been dramatic and exhausted?

julio practically bounced over to the other clothing rack, excitement consuming him again, “behold!” pulling something off the railing with renewed vigour with one hand his other went to his temple, fingers pressing against the side of his head, “lady fate descends a light upon this ephemeral garment with a message to dear parker!”

as the sunlight caught the sequins on what looked like a cropped jacket, “she dictates: don this, angelic parker.”

“don this scared wear and turn the tides of this wretched war.”

@november