The man was buff, had pointed ears, and he was babbling about the evils of man and something about the sea. Oh, and he was naked. Well, mostly naked. He was wearing a Speedo. It was green. It looked like it was made of tiny fish scales. He also had on some cute little black water shoes with stylistically drawn wings on the heels. He was causing trouble, which was no beuno. Not when Shin was around.

Around 2:00, the man had leaped from the water up onto the docks. People had been uncertain at the time. The guy might simply have been a mutant, and a strange one at that. Then they started listening to what he was saying. Something about Atlantis?

What? Not everyone knew about that place, Atlantis. Not everyone knew everything about every person living there. Unless maybe he didn’t. He could have simply been a crackpot mutant who thought he came from beneath the sea. One who really wanted to look like Spock.

Shard had not been present on the scene when the crazy man in the speedo rose from the sludgy depths. He’d only known about him due to police scanners and x-men being warned by local law enforcement. Apparently the guy was strong, and had something about water... maybe being ultra hydrated gave him super strength? Probably the most impressive thing about him was that he’d made it from the docks all the way to Times Square. On foot? Maybe. He didn’t have a car. But then, maybe he’d used the bus. If so, he smelled like fish guts and harbor. A taxi driver would have told him to get the hell out quicker than you could say “wet seat.”

Now, it was 4:00 and he was screaming at people about revenge and getting what was due to him, and everything else you could imagine. And something about an Ex-Girlfriend too, maybe? Some Susie chick? Whatever. Point was, he was causing trouble, buck naked, picking fights with street folk in the middle of the city. His Speedo-strutting ass was literally on the big screen of Times Square.

Shard landed neatly on the street a little ways away, behind the crowd of onlookers. Police had yet to show up because the man wasn’t throwing busses or anything yet. Just being weird. And that’s not a crime in New York.

Shard was dressed in a white business suit with a white shirt underneath the jacket, and a black tie. With a snap, the white rectangle he’d flown in on burst into hundreds of little white rectangles the size of playing cards. They all flew up his sleeve (and conveniently fit).

He stared at the man from across the street... just in time to see him finally pick a fight someone wasn’t willing to laugh and walk away from. Mister Spock was a total fool... and probably cold. He had to be a mutant. No one else can walk around in winter like that.

What had started out as a rather calm, rare night of him walking around as a lumbering red dude was quickly shattered by the appearance of some.. some fish themed male stripper. If those were really fish scales or sequins he couldn't imagine the amount of chafing they caused. Heck just thinking about it and trying not to look was making him quesy. The little fancy booties he was wearing seemed, well Erik had absolutely no idea what to make of that insanity.

Erik knew he should of walked away as soon as the man started on his whole 'it is everyone's fault my life sucks' routine. As soon at it appeared the man was a mutant he knew it complicated things considerably. Why did people like him have to go and make the rest of Mutandom look like a bunch of pricks? The situation made even worse by the fact he was getting the attention he clearly wanted and it was also clear the man did not skip glutes day at the gym. 

It also didn't help that part of the way through the man's tirade Erik blanked out at the sheer absurdity of it all and had failed to notice the people nearby fading away into a retreat. Of course as the most visible 'landy' or whatever he was being called made him an easy target. That and the fact he was not about to run away from a Speedo wearing idiot. Far too much pride for that nonsense. 

He kicked his homemade flip flops off and away from the immediate area and tossed the duffle bag he used as a backpack along with it leaving him bare foot in his barely fitting white tank top and jean shorts. Special orders from the big and tall store only amounting to so much. 

"Bud you can go and see a therapist just like everyone else for all your problems. Life goes on. Chill out and quit making mutants look like a bunch of jerks."

The man finally had stopped ranting. Of course only so he could huff and buff and chuck an abandoned car at him. With a sigh Erik caught it and set it down gently only to get sucker punched super style in the face stumbling back from the hammer blow before rather promptly punching the man square in the chest with his nearly matching sized fist and propelled Speedo through the air into the nearest car with a raucous of shattering glass and dented metal. Sighing figuring the man was just going to climb himself out and he would have to stall until an X-person arrived. What a night.   

What was this, Dragonball? What with the flying debris and fast-paced punching. As an Asian, Shard was a fan of Dragonball... but this was too much.

He had hoped Speedo would respond to simple conversation. Maybe no one had ever told him no shirt, no shoes, no service? And maybe they’d never asked him to use his indoor voice outside, or to keep his major problems to himself. X-men were in the business of helping people, but sometimes you just gotta help someone help themselves. Therapy may be in speedos future. Now, he had to help someone restrain him because talking seemed like a failing proposal.

Like clockwork, Speedo hauled himself free of the crumpled hulk of the car.

“You’re just like every other surface dweller, Man.” He almost made the word man seem an insult.

Everything really was coming up red man. Going exactly like he imagined. Everything except the long wait for X-men help. Shin arrived pretty much on-cue, stepping up to the big red man and stopping at his side.

”You wouldn’t happen to be related to a man with a monkey tail, would you?” he commented idly under his breath, towards Medium-Sized Red. He never took his eyes off Speedo.

They really would be raking in the product placement money soon.

He’d once known a man who was big and red, with a monkeys tail. Sadly, the man seemed to have evaporated. 4am in Times Square would have been as good a time and place as any for them to reconnect. He couldn’t remember if the man had been taller or smaller, but the shoulder muscles had certainly dwarfed Red’s current frame. At least, in the silver cinema screen glow of Shin’s memory. Hence, the medium-sized moniker rather than Big Red. That was wholly for Abyss. And his numerous brothers. This man was no Abyss.

Abyss would have picked up the nearest city bus and shaken it to prove a point.

Green underwear hadn’t moved to attack yet, so Shin tried tact. ”Give up. We’ve got you outnumbered. And it’s better to avoid a fight that destroys everything around you and leaves you paying fines for everything, from the city street repair fees to the insurance of the owner of the car whose hood your butt just collapsed. And—“ He was monologuing. This gave Speedo prime time to go for a rushing punch at the Asian’s face.

”Yipe!” Shard yiped, taking a hasty step back to evade, and to mentally regroup. He didn’t have the raw power to take on a buff boob in booty shorts. His strength was in mental logistics... despite what anyone might say regarding his diplomatic skills. It WAS the middle of the night.

If Captain Akward had been drunk the entire situation would have felt marginally less so. Who runs around New York in the swiftly approaching winter months in a Speedo? Erik was still had some brain power trying to process it all. Sighing a bit as the man extracted himself from the wreckage of the car.

Well he had certainly heard some interesting things as a way of greeting in this extraordinary and eccentric town. Keeping most of his vision on the ol Speedo wearing malcontent as he noted an asian man half his current size. "Possible, never knew my dad." Which was a true enough statement. Maybe his dad had a tail? Just one of life's mysteries he would probably never learn the truth. of.

Now that would ratchet the awkward level up to 11 if the random asian man knew his dad. Almost completely impossible, but with the sight currently in front of him he wasn't about to discount the possibility entirely. He shook himself a bit and focused at the task at hand. Inverse Tuxedo was giving the man a second chance.. or an expense report. Then he... yiped? Did people yipe! outside of cartoons? He was increasingly getting the feeling he was under some mind mutants spell and his subconscious was playing tricks on him.

Just to be on the safe side he moved to intercept in the best way he knew how. With a big fist to the side of Speedo's noodle that sent him flying back a safe distance. Erik was forcing himself to stay calm, but one of the prime disadvantages of having your body running on overdrive and feeling invincible was quite a bit of latent adrenaline ran through him that was becoming not so latent. 

"Alright suave accountant, you can call me Red. Any grand plans or should I just beat this guy unconscious while trying to minimize collateral damage?" His gravelly voice ground out as he moved into a slightly forward position to be able to better cover his impromptu and no doubt squishier compatriot. Sighing a bit as Speedo hauled himself off the pavement and spit out some blood before charging at the two of them.

In mutant land, all things are possible and The weirdest things are usually the most probable. He put a pin in the topic of Red’s parentage, to focus on the “task at hand.” He said his spiel and nearly lost his head.

Yes, he had yiped. And if the red man hadn’t intercepted the attack, he’d have yiped some more!

Red man was strong, that was for certain. Abyss levels, strong. Maybe.

Spock Speedo sailed across the intersection of Times Square and ground to a halt, a ways away. A city bus also jarred to a stop, not too far from all of that. People started filtering out, and fast. No way they were gonna get through that nightmare of an intersection. It was just safer disembarking and getting the heck out of the way.

Spock paid no attention. His eyes were glued to the two men.

Shin’s eyes were momentarily glued to Red. ‘Suave Accountant?’

Part of him was tempted to pull some ridiculous martial arts move to prove himself to Red. Something like... Speedo charges, he deflects the force of most of the blow with the side of one arm by pinioning it between the attack and his body, trapping it in the fist of his other arm. Meanwhile, he’d use a two-finger hand strike on the man’s neck while he was recovering from being trapped, then put pressure on said trapped arm while the guy was staggering from the two finger jab to his wind pipe, and force Speedo to the ground... something like that. Very cool. Very “suave accountant.” But then, one misstep and he’d be more like Suave Shampoo. Or at least, of the same consistency. The man had thrown a car, after all.

Shin put aside his ego for the moment. He found himself grinning at the other man’s commentary.

”Name’s Shard, actually.” He said. ”And your idea is a good starting point. I’ve got —“

Shin stepped away from the man, out of his shadow. As he went, he shook out his white sleeves. The card rectangles from earlier fluttered free, reforming from their nano-shard transformation as if by magic.

”A few tricks up my sleeve.” He finished the thought. The cards spun in the air around him.

It seemed Red subscribed to the Final Fantasy battle strategy of bruisers in the front row, squishier folks in the back. That was just fine by Shin. Again, he didn’t want to be shampoo.

”I’ll give you an opening to work your magic. You just follow my lead.”

That said, he dropped into a Weaver shooting stance and drew in all the cards. In one quick motion, they reformed and snapped into place. The new form was a Glowing white sphere the size of a beach ball, with a scaly surface. It hung suspended in the air in front of him, on the tip of finger. He held that hand steady with the other.

Speedo got to his feet. He spat a drop of blood onto the pavement. Then, he charged. He hadn't been deterred by the over the top card trick. His loss.

”SPIRIT GUN,” Shard shouted, for the viewers at home.

The giant ball of shards shot across Times Square like a major league pitch, and crashed into Speedo’s chest. He rocked back a step, forward momentum halted for the moment. Veins bulged in his forehead as he tried to press on. But Shard wasn’t having any of that.

As the man moved, the ball changed. Bit by bit, it shrank. But the shrunken bits didn’t vanish. No. They crept across the man’s body. They didn’t stop until his chest and biceps were covered in glowing white bits of triangle stuff. Held in place. Shin’s attack hadn’t been an energy attack at all. It had been a trap. For the moment, the Asian held the muscle bound madman in place with all the power of his mind. And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it except flex. And growl... quite a lot, actually.

The start of a baby headache kicked in Shin’s head. The man was STRONG.

Well at least whatever this situation he landed himself was in wasn't completely ridiculous. Not that he wasn't convinced this wasn't a mutant induced hallucination of some kind. Inverse tuxedo was having a field day and the really bad.. acting slash magic trick only re enforced the fact. Which he made sure to communicate through the very flat look in his eyes that transcended the adrenaline rush he was feeling. A complete and utter feeling of being totally unimpressed with his waking dream. 

Shard? Shard of what? Was this man supposed to represent something like his consciousness? His inner goofball? Not that he expected the jester of his mind to be an asian. Perhaps that was just projecting from the sushi he ate the other day? Was he supposed to trust his inner Shard voice and defeat whatever the flying hell Speedo was supposed to represent? A grand sigh escaping him as Shard the suave accountant and confused magician may have well said 'MAGIC HANDS' for pervasive peevishness he was feeling.

Ok subconscious. You want to play we will play. Erik waited for the Saturday Night Fever disco ball to do it's thing and hold Speedo in place. Lacking any apparent sense of haste he tromped over to the already mangled car and picked it up before almost casually walking over to the held in place man. "For which we are about to receive may we be eternally grateful." And proceeded to bash the man with the car with utmost prejudice and force until the once adequately nice sedan started to just fall apart in his hands, pieces flinging away, various car fluids splishing and splashing to and for until all that was left was a mangled car door. His job done he idly tossed the door aside to survey what was left of the man. 

Surprisingly he was alive if beaten black and blue, he started to step forward and speak something through his busted lip and a missing tooth only to be intercepted by a cop on the scene. A high pitch whine sounding out as a pair of prongs stuck fast into the ner-do-wells far too exposed backside and his whole body convulsed. Erik figured it was just some mental note that even the little guy could be a hero. The mental thought caused him to grunt and made his oil spattered way to collect his bag and slip on his flip flops before starting to walk away like nothing happened. No One seeming to be particularly inclined to step in front of him for some reason.

((OOC Thread titles a bit of a misnomer now but ok! I like it.))

Ow. Ow.

Ow ow ow.

Ow.

For every hit that touched Shin's shards, the Asian got a nice bit of psychic backlash for his troubles. By the time big and Red had walloped creepy no pants upside the head three or four times, Shin had started reeling in his shards. Drawing away the things holding the man in place. They werent really needed after the beating he had received. And even less so, when the police arrived. And tazed the man.

No-Pants had been reeling before. When the cop arrived, the man had been about to say something. In his haze of pain, Shin THOUGHT he'd been about to say his name. Like "Do you know who I AM? I'M--" And then the cop had tazed him, and he'd staggered forward muttering something that sounded like "N'more." No more, maybe? Whatever. The man was down for the count.

Shard left the criminal to the police. Surely, he'd done enough illegal things that they would have no trouble arresting him. This was their realm now, not his. His realm was... somewhere else.

He stepped in front of Red. No one else had done so yet. But he would.

"Ow." He started. Put a hand to his head, shook it. Got his brain pan back in working order, post-Brain-Pain. "I mean. Wow. That wasn't bad. That--" Part of his costume dimmed as shards vanished, leaving him part white tuxedo. Part black turtle-neck sweater and jeans. Civvies. What came out next was hurried to the point of near incomprehensibility. "You shouldtotally join thex-men or something. Have you beentothe man shun? Um." He staggered forward, on that note.

Which just goes to show that X-men who receive psychic trauma equivalent to one concussions shouldn't try fancy complex things like on-the-job recruitment spiels. It just isn't wise.

He had paid much attempt to the man's monologuing, or attempt to after he started bashing the toenails off him. He was also rather glad of the police intervention whom would hopefully get most of the credit for stopping the idiot trouble causing mutant. RED was not his persona for acts of good natured life saving. There were probably cold cases that were his fault, but a little hero work never hurt to keep people guessing. Plus right place right time.

Then ole diminutive and sparkly stepped in front of him as he was trying to leave. Briefly he contemplated just how far he could kick the potential human football before thinking better of it. Didn't the man realise he was uncomfortable with crowds and was trying to make his mistake? Far too many people around even if it was the middle of the night New York time. It took him a moment to realise Shard was losing his luster and throwing him the worst sales pitch ever. If he was being asked to join the X-Men they had to be desperate!

As the man looked like he was about to pitch forward a large red hand intercepted its way to catch him. Lowering his face and tone to whisper to the man. "Your supposed to be a hero hold yourself together until you get out of eyesight at least!" The calm sentence coming out as more of a hiss then intended. A large hand grasping the back of Shinbo's sweater and doing what he could to make it look like the man was walking away even if his legs weren't moving and hastily carried them away from the throng and ducked into an alley.

"Firstly, noway am I qualified to be an X-Men and secondly you going to be alright or do I need to call you the X-bulance or something?" Was there an X-bulance? That seemed like that should exist if it didn't. A medical division of the X-men sent to help people in disaster areas.. Regardless she held onto the back of the man's shirt, hesitant to let go and let something happen to the 'hero.'

Bleh.

The guy caught him.

Man, this was embarrassing. And there wasn’t even an Adaptoid to cause him to become trash, speaking gibberish.

‘You’re supposed to be a hero, man! Pull yourself together!!’ He mentally paraphrased.

Fair. Harsh, but true. Not that he’d say anything.

”Ughthanks.” Shin said. He stumbled along, playing along with the attempt to polish the turd of a situation to a gleaming shine. He did most of a good job. He was still rocked.

Half-in costume, half-out was not a very professional look. So he let the other half of the costume disperse and vanish away as he went. Hopefully, they wouldn’t get into another fight.

Whew, an alley. Was he being held up by his sweater? If he’d still been wearing his whole costume, he could have floated himself halfway to help. But he’d dismissed that, hadn’t he? How useful was he?

And then the guy was telling him off. Was there a such thing as an X-Bulance? Shin just had to laugh.

”Somebody call the whambulance!” He said.

Then, he forced his face into a semblance of straightforward seriousness that didn’t have any laughter lines creeping in at the corners of it. Nope. None.

”I’ll be fiiiine. I just need. A minute. See, when you bashed my mind constructs you bashed my miiind. Think I gotta brain concussion but I’ll be fine. Just rub some dirt on it.”

He straightened himself up so Red wouldn’t need to support him as much. Dusted himself off.

”Honestly, I think yer sellin’ yerself short on the X-men qualifications thing. We’ve had plenty of unqualified folks who had no business being heroes. Comes with, hic, the job.”

He brushed at his mouth.

If the man wasn't obviously suffering some sort of psychically caused trauma he would have given the man a real concussion. Turns out ole asian pants mc whatever the hell his name was got cookyier then a woodpeckers house when he got his brainspace battered and beaten. 

Erik managed to not to physically rip his own face off even if it was tempting. He doubted Inverse Tuxedo turned soccer dad would hardly even notice. Yes that would have been satisfying.  A little meat hat for the meat man to take home to his soccer party he was no doubt way late for. Ugh he hated how he thought when he was full of adrenaline. 

Oh so now it was all  his fault? He was pretty sure the entirety of their planning was a whole 15 seconds. For that short amount of time they were both lucky no one died. Xmen material! That would be worth telling someone one day when his glory days were all shot and used up.

"I could pop the top of your skull off and do that if you really want me too." Perhaps just a bit too eagerly. UGH. This is why you never met anything you identified with as a hero. They always disappointed in someway. Almost as much as Erik disappointed himself on a daily basis. 

"Look I will probably quote you on that, but if you hadn't been around I would have probably just tried to turn the guy into one of those mr. stretch toys and when I got bored left him in a dumpster somewhere. So if that screams Xmen material to you I got you guys all wrong." It was hard with his deep voice if he was just using the blatant violence of his idea to deflect or not, but a good guess would have been yes he was. 

"Seriously though you ok? I don't want someone thinking I killed an X-man. You need some water or a protein bar I have both." Zipping open his backpack turned phanny back to show off his goods. Both were in there as well as some phones and a change of clothes.

Pop the top of his skull off? And, what, rub some dirt on it?

”We can keep that as a strong option C.” Shin noted sagely.

Least the guy hasn’t said he’d pop his cap and drink him like a cherry cola. That would have been WEIRD. And not even flattering. Like, at all. Even if it would have been a compliment about his taste.

But ahem. He tried to serious it all up. Get on Red’s level. And failed his persuasion check.

What, had he rolled a 1? He needed new dice. Why even with the dice talk? His cage had been pretty rattled. Doc Prof would have a lot to say to him about him. None of it, friendly. Didn’t the man regularly refuse to help Sam, after all the fool things he got into? Maybe Shin would get that treatment. Yay!

The guy went on about stretching the naked guy out and tossing him in a dumpster, and Shin shrugged. ”One of our dude’s once broke a teenage girl’s arm with a fish over a for-fun Pokemon fight.” he said. And if that didn’t impress him, nothing ever would.

>>”Seriously though, you okay...?” Red asked him.

Red showed him a pack full of protein bars and water. And other stuff. The Asian waved it off, and stepped a few steps away.

”Maybe walk me to a Kwik-e-Mart for some aspirin and an energy drink? Maybe I can grab something greasy to help with the hangover. Takes some time, but I can’t walk this off. Can.” He amended. He would improve, he swore. Back on topic, he rambled on.

”We don’t always have the best judgment. But being a hero isn’t just about being right all the time. Sometimes, it’s just one good— hic— day. You did good tonight. Today. What time even is it?” he peered at Red.

Erik figured if the man could be snarky about his obvious and bad attempts at humor then he wouldn't keel over suddenly, he hoped. Concussions were a thing he gave to other people, not helped them through. Though in this case he got to do both even if the former was entirely inadvertent.. for once.

The next comment made him blink for too many reasons to count. "What the hell is a pokemon?" He was pretty sure he heard the kids at Sanctuary talking about that sort of stuff, but the concept itself was so foreign to him learning another language seemed far more to his liking. Breaking an arm with a fish was impressive for all the wrong reasons. Was this guy always so obtuse or did he just catch Shin on a bad day.

"Sure, let us get to it if  you think you can walk. You are acting more drunk then concussed. A particular flavor of aftermath your powers have or should I add 'Met a drunk X-man' to my list of shameful accomplishments?" The man had seemed a bit.. perturbed at his earlier manhandling so he would wait for the tiny asian to take the lead in walking.

"Your words are not exactly endearing me to your organization. I am self sufficient without all the bureaucratic crap you guys no doubt have to deal with. Why would I subject myself to that when I can accomplish just as much without being fettered by the preconceptions your fellows put forth? Which incase you are too concussed to remember, I find myself highly doubting I want or need membership in your.. organization. Particularly if some members are as dumb as they sound." He respected the X-men, but they were supposed to be the golden boy heroes while vigilantes did the heavy lifting. At least in his uninformed and happily ignorant opinion. Some people needed protection and camaraderie. He was not one of those sorts of people.

What was a Pokémon?

”Some Japanese video game with pocket monsters.” He said. ”It’s hard to explain.”

It was hard to explain, so he didn’t even try. Hard was impossible right then.

He was acting drunk? Was he acting drunk? The Asian laughed. ”Man, no. I’m just an idiot. But don’t tell my math students that. They’ll probably agree with you. And then won’t my face be red?” he was clowning around. It was his way of dealing with terrible pain and weirdly shifting worlds.

More seriously, he added ”It’s my powers. They’re psychic. Brain-based. My brain got base... basted. I would not get drunk on duty.” He eyed Red suspiciously, as if Red might. ”Might have to fight a Godzilla or something. But I can make it to the store just fine. I’ll try and keep my goofier comments to myself. It’s just my way of whistling in the dark.”

He tried a few steps, was successful. Tried a few more.

Apparently, his hard sell was going down hard. Red was un-endeared, and unimpressed. The guy used a lot of big words and talked a lot. Shin turned back to him and shrugged, as he kept walking a few more steps, backwards and blind.

”We have cool costumes. We have team power. We’ve got a jet. And the police don’t arrest us if they see us lobbing cars at folks. If you don’t feel like you need any of that... I’m not going to convince you with any more babbling. Sounds like you can be heroic without wearing a garish costume... guess I could give you a business card but you would probably trash it.”

If Red did not want to be convinced, he was not to waste his breath.

He saw a convenience store in the near distance. There were two guys smoking out front. A husky short guy with a beard, and a tall weasel of a man with long blonde hair. The short guy was wearing a trench coat. The tall one was not.

Pocket monsters? Who wanted a monster in their pocket? Difficult to explain indeed. And he doubted Mr. Concussion Drunk could even attempt it if he wanted since basic hand eye coordination seemed to be taking most of the man's brain power.

Face be red? Was that a jab at the fact he was red all over? Wait Math teacher? Silently he offered a prayer to the man's students. Though he had heard stories of boring math teachers so perhaps it was a good balance. "It is in my experience the people who shout the loudest that they are smart are the true idiots. So you are probably doing alright." Sure it was a sideways way to offer a compliment, but it was still an attempt. 

"It would be impossible for me to get drunk and even if it were could you imagine how much I would have to drink to make that happen given my size?" Grain alcohol was better for molotovs then drinking in his studious opinion. Or engine cleaner. Ok any use that didn't require consumption. It distracted him from the man's attempts to look like a nature documentary. 'And here we see the baby gazelle take its first steps. Unsure at first but slowly gaining confidence.' Once again he was thankful he didn't suffer boring physical handicaps unless limbs were missing. 

"I wouldn't ruin your business card out of spite. I am not that sort of person. The offer is flattering and I will consider it. My costume would not be garish though. Just add an Xmen belt to my current outfit. Think we have both had enough of spandex for at least a decade wouldn't you say?" He remarked with a rumbly chuckle. 

   

"So your a math teacher? I have never been to school before. Is it as much of a hell as tv makes it out to be or are they just typical over exaggerations?"

>> "It is in my experience the people who shout the loudest that they are smart are the true idiots. So you are probably doing alright." Red said.

Shin chuckled. ”Flatterer. You probably do well with the ladies.” He teased.

It was impossible for Red to get drunk? That was kind of sad. Some of his fondest memories were absent from when he was drunk. Or present. Along with some doozies he would rather forget.

”You’d need a keg or two. Just for you.” he said.

Which was not cost effective even if he could have gotten drunk.

He commented about the card, and Red said he wouldn’t trash it out of spite. And spandex? Shin laughed. ”My wife designs a lot of costumes for the team and she is actually a fashion designer. She would not let people go around in Spandex unless they went behind her back. She would probably make you something tasteful. If you ever wanted a nice belt.”

A nice utility belt perhaps, with pockets out the wazoo. Or well, not out the wazoo, because that would be counterintuitive to the goal of keeping your pants up and holding things on your sides. But it could have more pockets than a pair of cargo pants. Hell, he could wear as many belts as he wanted if he liked them.

So yeah, he could have his belt and avoid spandex. Shi wasn’t sure he had ever worn the stuff himself.

He shook himself, and looked to Red. ”Never been to school? Eh. It’s not so bad. You would hate it. Some people like it so much they get jobs teaching so they can get extra years in the place.”

He had no idea who thought school was hell. Maybe teen Shin?