Welcome to the fourth installment of Dungeons, Dragons, and Birthdays! I still own nothing!
At first glance it appeared as though his closet was empty too, and it didn't take a genius to know that meant he would be forced to prance around Pasadena like a mad-man, and he most certainly wasn't crazy – his mother had him tested (though, we're all wondering if she should have scheduled that follow-up in Huston).
However, upon further inspection he saw what he assumed either had to be his required costume for the day or the dry cleaners made a serious error, and at the moment he was more inclined to hope for the error as before him hung a scarily familiar maids costume that he remembered being forced to wear in exchange for meeting one of the greatest minds in the world today, Steven Hawking.
"I was better off with the pajamas" he muttered to himself as he gazed at the dress, the outfit innocently swaying softly as he pushed his closet door open farther. "Though I've worn this before I still think this is a bit outside my comfort zone"
Reaching to grab the garment, if not simply to burn the lacy mess, he noticed a hastily written note pinned to the apron.
In what he automatically recognized to be Howard's untidy penmanship, he made out the message "Just messing with you Sheldor, keep going."
Highly relieved that he would not be donning such inappropriate clothing today, he pushed the tutu aside and, sure enough, hiding behind the over-sized uniform, easily hidden behind the mountain of fluffy outfit, was Sheldor's new outfit.
Hanging in the way back of the closet on a hot pink hanger which he had a sneaky suspicion belonged to his messy neighbor across the hall was a human fighter outfit complete with sword, dagger, and what appeared to be a vibranium enforced shield.
"Well, at least THIS one is accurate to my character, Sheldor the Conquer: the most heroic of all knights" he conceded proudly, slowly taking the second costume off the rack and placing it on his bed to examine further.
The undershirt and tasset were both various shades of purple with gold trim, while the armor itself was a plated model (not the chain mail model that Leonard sports at each disappointing Renaissance/Enlightenment/excuse to say "ye olde" whenever you feel like it fair) and, though the metal seemed fairly heavy for its size, he reasoned it couldn't have been made of real iron.
"Most likely made out of high grade steel; that's a nice touch" he thought to himself as he peeled off his pajama shirt.
Normally a costume of such a high caliber and accuracy wouldn't bother him, in fact normally he'd be over the moon and back over such an exquisite choice in costume (he was a free spirit like that) however he still had a few reservations about this one.
The first aspect that made him almost as cheerful as when Howard won his Flash comic book via cricket wager, was the huge red heart engraved on to the front of his metal costume. This certainly would not do, it wasn't like he was some hippy at a love fest! He was a scientist, and as such he shouldn't be frolicking around with a shape whose origins include female hindquarters and baser urges!
Though, his more pressing worry was the fact that instead of upper leg guards, as per norm in most armors of the time period, the costume sported black tights, steel shin guards, and pair of purple leather buckle front boots.
Unbeknownst to most, - except for Leonard, Penny, Raj, Howard, Bernadette, Amy, nearly everyone at his University and Amy's, the majority of East Texas and some fellow nerds he had the pleasure of meeting at last year's Comic-Con – Sheldon Lee Cooper had a distinct distaste (no, scratch that, distaste is too light, the proper word would be hatred…immense hatred) of tights.
What caused his illogical, borderline pathological discomfort of a silly piece of clothing? Simple, his twin sister Missy Cooper, who had blackmailed him (read as "almost made him infertile with several hard blows to his lower region") into going to ballet and other dance classes with her when they were five.
He shuttered for a moment. To this day he had nightmares about the slightly overweight and very elderly Mrs. Johnson shouting "I've seen toddlers make better pliés that that" and "BEND you twig boy BEND" as he tried everything to get out of there.
It was, bar none, the worst week of his life, not including when they guys had faked his results or when Amy had been dating Stewart, since all three occurrences nearly gave him mental breakdowns that would have forever marked him as actually being crazy (which he wasn't!).
After some internal debate weighing the consequences of going through the day in his Wednesday pajamas or sporting a silly heart on his chest, he grudgingly got dressed and found himself pleasantly surprised.
Despite his childish complaining earlier, the armor fit his thin figure like a glove and he was fascinated by how he looked in said costume. Usually when wearing medieval garb he went as a monk or a trans-universal Spock investigating a land much like 15th century England, but never as a dashing night. Even if he didn't look like the Flash getting married he couldn't deny he looked great.
His underclothes were skin tight and perfectly accented his usually hidden muscular demeanor, while his armor made it appear as though he were truly off to slay some dragon, best some jester, or save the princess which ironically was what he was doing.
Whoever picked this out certainly had good taste, and knew him well enough since the material was a pleasing royal purple! "My favorite color" he said aloud as he exited his room for the first time since his adventure started.
Intent on walking down the hall, through the living room, down the stairs and to the bottom of the building, okay intent on semi-waddling down the hall, through the living room, down the stairs, and to the bottom of the building, he excitedly hurried towards the front door, curious as to where his adventure would take him.
However fate, the devious little antagonist in its own right, had other plans.
Upon getting a decent view of his communal living room, Sheldon nearly had a heart attack. His poor OCD filled heart was crying a little bit as he tried to process what he saw before him.
Trash was everywhere and not thing was in its proper place!
OH THE HUMANITY!
Bright blue and red blankets covered the floor while several large pillows that he had never seen before dotted the floors in a chaotic fashion that showed neither rhyme nor reason to its placement.
The couch and chair were flipped over, left forgotten by the rubble left in its wake.
As he stepped closer, a loud mechanical voice boomed throughout the apartment.
"SHELDOR, THE GREAT AND MIGHTY HERO! I HAVE HEARD TELL OF YOUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND FEEL I SHOULD MAKE YOU PROVE YOUR WORTH! IF YOU PASS MY TEST, YOUR PRINCESS WILL REMAIN SAFE…FOR NOW…"