Golden thorns chapter thirty

Being in a clothes shop with Jo was like being in the centre of a hurricane. The world around Coran span as she ran from shelf to rail to closet and back, sending shop assistants flying. Devlyn was doubtfully holding up a suit and glancing disconsolately at his muscly tail. Marie was stood next to him, appraising the clothing with a practiced eye. She hailed an attendant and the three of them began discussing the possibility of tailoring it to fit Devlyn's reptilian frame.

He slowly made his way over to a discrete rack of jackets and started leafing through them. They were very simple and nothing special. Black with plain dark grey lining. Dull, non-descript and lacking in any degree of taste or style. Jo grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from them saying "have a little self-respect Coran. Those are disgusting." She showed him to a stand with some very fine clothes indeed. They were cut to a tailored fit, with a soft silk lining and lapels. These were almost on a par with the clothes his parents bought him back in the day. So what were they doing in a shop like this? Yeah, the clothes here were nice but they were still in the "economy section" of Vale's fashion market.

Jo snapped him out of his reverie by loading him up with a couple of suits. "Changing rooms are over there. Go try these on and show me how well you can clean up." She said excitedly.

"Uh, Jo I-" he protested but she was already pushing him towards the curtained booths.

"Shut up and put some nice clothes on for once." It is supposedly difficult to slam a curtain but she somehow managed it. "And you're not coming out until you get changed."

Half an hour and three suites later and they had settled on a simple black DJ with a silver silk lining and two unadorned brass buttons. Subtle but sophisticated. Coran loved it. There was only one, three digit problem standing in the way. "Jo, um…"

"Oh for goodness sake what's wrong with this one?"

"Nothing." He said, flustered. "It's just that I… probably won't be going to the dance."

"You… what?" she murmured darkly. "I beg to differ. Marie! Devlyn! Get over here." His teammates looked up from a display of amusing novelty cufflinks and hurried over to them.

"What is it?" Marie asked

"Lord Lame over here seems to think that he isn't going to the dance."

"Coran, mate. You can't be socially awkward forever. The number of friends you have can be counted on one hand." Devlyn sighed.

"Thanks for that. And I will thank you to say two hands. I have you three, most of the time," he shot a glare at Dev, "then there's Weiss, Ruby and Yang. That makes six."

"Yang, you count Yang?" the incredulous Faunus asked.

"Sure, what's a broken nose between friends?"

"Guys, guys, we're getting off topic here. Coran, why do you really not want to go to the dance?" Jo interrupted, frustration clearly growing in her.

"I'm too busy." He said blankly.

"No you're not." Jo seemed adamant.

"Yes I am. I have a hundred and one things to do before Monday when, in case you've forgotten, we have our first proper mission assignments. As team leader it's my responsibility to make sure everything goes smoothly this time." Leaves of red, a snarl of wolves. "I know my gear needs an overhaul, as I'm sure do all of yours. Plus with me being out of ammo for the next week or two I have to factor that into our plans. I'm the best shot-" three bangs, two shapes drop, "-and if we don't have me then our tactics will have to be much more close quarters-" hot, steamy breath on his face, "-which is not ideal. We may be improving but we're hardly team RWBY. We have to account for everything-" surrounded, outnumbered, split up, "-even if we aren't even leaving Vale. If we leave the slightest thing to chance-" a desperate leap, "- anything could go wrong." Hot blood flowing freely, the sirens of an emergency VTOL- Coran opened eyes that he had not realised were closed. He felt dizzy, faint. His heart was hammering like an artillery canon. He sat down on a nearby stool and attempted to calm down. At this rate he was going to give himself an aneurism.