Aaron Blackstone could feel a migraine coming on. He knew it was purely psychological; since the merger, he hadn't had any sort of headache, except for
those brought on by blunt force trauma. Nevertheless, he could feel it building in the back of his neck and his jaw muscles. He counted backwards from ten,
first in Spanish, then in the numbering system of an arboreal species from somewhere near Wolf 359. He took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly.
Finally, he turned to the immaculately dressed and coiffed man standing next to him, and said, "I just came in for a couple of pairs of socks."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Serge, proprietor, manager, and driving force behind Icons. "One does not come to Serge for socks."
"One does, if one wants socks that are made of armor weave," commented Blackstone. He looked in the mirror. "I look like an idiot."
"You look fabulous, Mr. Blackstone. Trust Serge; he knows."
Blackstone sighed. "Look, I appreciate the effort. Really, I do. I was happy to help with your problem with the Tsoo; anyone who thinks that multicolored
ninjas are the way to go needs to join Michael Dudikoff back in the Eighties. But I don't need a new supersuit. I like what I have."
"What you have, Mr. Blackstone, is a mishmash of an armored undergarment and casual wear for the cowboy slacker."
"Exactly. It was comfortable."
"But it was not fabulous. And Serge does not allow those heroes to which he owes a debt to be unfabulous. Please, let me work my fashion magic. It will be
armored and comfortable, I promise you. And it will be fabulous!"
Blackstone looked at the suit he was wearing in the mirror. Despite the tightness of the pants, it was comfortable, and it was definitely armored. "Can we
change the color? I'm not fond of aubergine."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Green?"
Serge tapped a few controls on his Wardrobe Control Unit. The suit shifted colors, going from the deep purple to a dark green. "Serge can work with
this," he proclaimed. "Trust Serge, Mr. Blackstone. You will look--"
"If you say 'fabulous' one more time, I'm going squid and you can keep your suit."
Serge arched an eyebrow and tapped a few controls on the WCU. A holographic image of a Kheldian in Nova form appeared in front of Blackstone, wearing an
artistic, and colorful, creation that appeared to be mostly wispy scarves and glittery bangles. "Serge can work with squids," the fashion designer
responded archly.
Blackstone sighed. "Fabulous."
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com
"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."
those brought on by blunt force trauma. Nevertheless, he could feel it building in the back of his neck and his jaw muscles. He counted backwards from ten,
first in Spanish, then in the numbering system of an arboreal species from somewhere near Wolf 359. He took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly.
Finally, he turned to the immaculately dressed and coiffed man standing next to him, and said, "I just came in for a couple of pairs of socks."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Serge, proprietor, manager, and driving force behind Icons. "One does not come to Serge for socks."
"One does, if one wants socks that are made of armor weave," commented Blackstone. He looked in the mirror. "I look like an idiot."
"You look fabulous, Mr. Blackstone. Trust Serge; he knows."
Blackstone sighed. "Look, I appreciate the effort. Really, I do. I was happy to help with your problem with the Tsoo; anyone who thinks that multicolored
ninjas are the way to go needs to join Michael Dudikoff back in the Eighties. But I don't need a new supersuit. I like what I have."
"What you have, Mr. Blackstone, is a mishmash of an armored undergarment and casual wear for the cowboy slacker."
"Exactly. It was comfortable."
"But it was not fabulous. And Serge does not allow those heroes to which he owes a debt to be unfabulous. Please, let me work my fashion magic. It will be
armored and comfortable, I promise you. And it will be fabulous!"
Blackstone looked at the suit he was wearing in the mirror. Despite the tightness of the pants, it was comfortable, and it was definitely armored. "Can we
change the color? I'm not fond of aubergine."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Green?"
Serge tapped a few controls on his Wardrobe Control Unit. The suit shifted colors, going from the deep purple to a dark green. "Serge can work with
this," he proclaimed. "Trust Serge, Mr. Blackstone. You will look--"
"If you say 'fabulous' one more time, I'm going squid and you can keep your suit."
Serge arched an eyebrow and tapped a few controls on the WCU. A holographic image of a Kheldian in Nova form appeared in front of Blackstone, wearing an
artistic, and colorful, creation that appeared to be mostly wispy scarves and glittery bangles. "Serge can work with squids," the fashion designer
responded archly.
Blackstone sighed. "Fabulous."
Ebony the Black Dragon
http://ebony14.livejournal.com
"Good night, and may the Good Lord take a Viking to you."