“I’m not wearing that.” reyder
“You must be joking,” Reyes huffed, staring at Scott as if the Pathfinder had just sprouted horns and a fluffy tail. “I’m not wearing that.”
“Oh, come on, it will be fun!” Scott singsonged, pointing to the heaps of clothes stashed in his wardrobe – each worse than the previous one, with clashing colors, ridiculous fabric and terrible cut. Worst fashion disasters Andromeda had ever seen. “And besides, it’s for a good cause!”
“How is making an idiot out of myself going to help anybody?”
Using his biotics, Scott let various garments float in front of them, his gaze searching intently for the most outrageous pick.
“I told you. Sara is stuck in the Nexus med bay again and she’s going crazy from boredom. We need to cheer her up.”
“By dressing up as fabulous hobos?”
“She’ll love it, just you see.”
Reyes let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his forehead.
“The things I do for you…”
Scott laughed and let one of the shirts smack Reyes right in the face.
“Less grumbling, more getting dressed.”
* * *
“Vetra? Could you come to my room for a moment?”
She lifted her gaze from the gun she had been upgrading and looked with surprise at her omni-tool.
On the way to the Pathfinder’s Quarters, Vetra couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. Scott was the type of guy, who preferred to go out to his crew rather than summon them to his own room. Especially during Reyes’s visit. They hardly needed an audience, right?
She pressed the button, opening the door, took a step inside… and froze. Full body paralysis as she took a long and good look at the two men in front of her.
Scott was dressed in a turquoise sweatpants, a neon pink translucent Blasto tank top, orange socks adorned with tiny silver stars and purple, oversized crocks. Big headphones hung casually around his neck. On his left wrist he had a rainbow bracelet, on the right a few garish rubber bands. And to top it all, a pair of mauve party sunglasses stuck on his nose. Reyes wore an identical outfit, just in a slightly different color scheme (pink sweatpants, turquoise tank top, orange crocks, purple socks).
Vetra stared, and stared, and then stared some more, infinities upon infinities rolling by as her brain was trying to process what she was seeing.
She gave up eventually and shook her head, as if chasing the cursed images away.
“You know what, I don’t even want to know. Why did you call me?”
Scott’s smile was brighter than his top. The shirt, not Reyes, although the Charlatan, once he actually put on the outfit, started to radiate lethal doses of joy and excitement.
“Take a photo of us and send it later to my omni-tool, okay?”
“Sure. Whatever.” Vetra reached an inner zen state.
“Okay,” Scott clapped his hands. “Let’s strike a pose. Three… two… one…”
Arms were extended, muscles flexed, confidence oozing from every pore.
“Done. The photo and I,” said Vetra and forwarded the image on her merry way away from this nuthouse.
When the door closed behind her, Reyes turned to his boyfriend.
“Do you really think Sara will like it?”
“Oh yeah.” Scott giggled stupidly, sending the picture to his twin. “She’s gonna piss her pants.”
* * *
As it turned out, Sara’s reaction thankfully wasn’t as urinary as expected, although she apparently had a fit of laughter so intense she had to be sedated. Doctor Carlyle sent Scott about a dozen angry emails, banning all interRyder communication until Sara was well again.
Scott decided with a smug nod.
As soon as I read that prompt I couldn’t help but think of this picture by @scottryder-spacetwink. Sara’s reaction is totally understandable because my own was similar. Sorry for the addition of crocks, I just had to.
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