Vaudevillain

VV4, 18 - Worthy Habiliments



“Looking into it,” Oro said. “I think we have to go with the tailor. The mafia contact primarily deals with villains.”

“Looks like the decision is made then,” Jack said. “Where might we find out new outfitter?”

“Londinium,” Oro said. “Steampunk capital of World of Supers.”

“Great, Mirror Mirror will fit right in,” Sweet Dream said.

“That’s the steampunk city right dudes?” Riptide asked.

“I think so,” Dylan said.

“Sweet,” Riptide said.

“Awesome. See you all in Londinium then,” Jack said.

“Yep, see y’all soon,” Oro said.

Dylan exited the voice channel and jumped onto World of Supers. The world zoomed into existence as he chose Approximo, the streets of Lutetia appearing in his vision. After a quick jog to the guild teleporter and a short wait Dylan found himself in the grand steampunk city of Londinium.

A message box appeared before him.

Welcome to the city of Londinium, hero! The city before you holds a rich history of aristocracy and technology, all governed by the great Steam Queen herself! Heroes in the city will find they aren’t the only ones looking out for the wellbeing of citizens here. The city’s robotic protectors, the Bobbys, patrol the streets.

That isn’t to say Londinium is completely safe. Roving gangs of hooligans, equipped with various steam powered gear, scour the streets for anyone who might be an easy target. Not to mention all the underground crime taking place in the less savory parts of the city.

Dylan read the blurb while waiting for his friends. Practically everyone appeared a minute later, the only straggler being Riptide.

“Sorry, dudes,” he said as he found them. “Totally forgot where I put the helmet last.”

“Gasp, how dare you be an entire minute late!” Sweet Dream said sarcastically. “Why, if I didn’t know better I would say you no longer care about us!”

“Dude, how could you say that!” Riptide said, leaning into the sarcasm. “I totally care about all of you.”

The surfer grabbed his girlfriend in a bear hug. “Especially you the most!”

“Ack! Stop!” Sweet Dream laughed.

Oro just rolled his eyes. “Come on you guys. I already asked where to find this crafter.”

The pinstriped suited hero waved a hand and started moving. Jack and Dylan followed, leaving Riptide and Sweet Dream alone to flirt.

The group stepped out into the streets, a haze of steam rising from underneath the streets mixed with the afternoon day to create shimmering rainbows. Men and women, dressed in the telltale fashion of the Victorian era, walked across the streets in twos and threes. Every so often a bronze robot dressed in a dark blue waistcoat would stroll by, idly whistling a tune while twirling what looked to be a police baton.

“Ah, my people,” Sweet Dream said, getting into character. “It’s so nice to enter a city that respects fashion.”

“Yeah dude, I can get behind this,” Firestarter said. “All their accessories are super punk.”

Dylan looked at the civilians once more, this time noticing the various additions to the Victorian era clothing. Metallic bronze accents on the sleeves shone with a polish, adding an industrial feeling to the clothes. This, combined with geared contraptions that seemed only for aethestic purposes, truly made Dylan feel like he was in a steampunk city.

“Typical that you would only pay attention to the accessories,” Mirror Mirror said. “Fashion is so much more than that.”

“Eh, I don’t see nothing wrong with a good suit,” Of a Kind said. “Simple is best.”

“But dude,” Firestarter argued. “Just look at how cool some of those goggles are! We should totally put on a show here, I bet everyone would love it!”

“Let’s find our tailor contact first,” Gameset said. “We need some upgrades.”

“Yes,” Dylan said. “I do not want to be losing with no pants again.”

“It’s get caught with your pants down, you goomba,” Of a Kind said.

“So, who’s this mysterious contact anyway?” Gameset asked Of a Kind.

“Eh, not sure yet,” the gangster answered. “All I know is its a he and he’s supposed to be good. Now come on.”

Of a Kind led the group through the streets, keeping his eye on the tracking marker while everyone else observed the city. The further they traveled, the more pristine the area became. The clothing changed from rougher threads to finer, while the bronze accessories became jeweled and golden.

“Man, the man here likes to show off,” Firestarter said.

“I think they just like to appreciate the finer things in life,” Mirror Mirror said.

“What do you think, Prox?” Gameset asked.

“We have no need for jewels like these on my planet,” Dylan improvised. “Star mining means everyone has access to as much as they could ask for. The artistic pieces are nice. Very hot cottare.”

“You mean haute couture,” Mirror Mirror corrected.

Approximo nodded. “Yes. Halt coat oar.”

“No, haute couture,” Mirror Mirror said.

Firestarter laughed while Approximo looked confused. “I do not hear the difference?” the alien hero replied.

Mirror Mirror sighed. “We’ll work on it.”

“Here we are,” Of a Kind said.

The group looked over to see a grand store, the size of a department store but built with none of the dead minimalism a modern store carried. The front of the store resembled a classical temple, with the columns dressed like rolls of cloth. All manner of aristocrats walked through the columns into wide double doors to be greeted by receptionists.

“Impressive place,” Gameset said.

The others nodded as they walked to the store. There was a commotion as they came closer, a group of players arguing with a receptionist.

“As I already said,” the recceptionist said. “Mr. Worth doesn’t meet with you unless you already have a letter of reference from a client. Until then, feel free to browse our select hero collection, perfect for every occasion.”

“Man, this is bullsh*t!” a player shouted. “All the generic stuff you sell is crap!”

“Great, looks like we need a letter of recommendation,” Gameset said.

“No worries, dudes. We can play a gig at some fancy house party and ask for a letter as payment,” Firestarter said.

Mirror Mirror rolled her eyes. “Yeah, an aristocrat, people known for refined taste in music, are going to let a punk rock band play at a tea party.”

“Oh good,” Approximo said. “I thought finding this letter would be hard.”

“That was sarcasm, Prox,” Of a Kind said.

“Oh,” the alien hero answered. “Well, then we should ask nicely for a letter. All the televisions say that people are happy to help if you ask nicely.”

“If only I could go back to the time when I was as naive as you,” Gameset said. “Prox, no one actually believes the stuff on TV.”

“Your world is very strange,” Approximo said.

“No kidding,” Of a Kind replied. “Now, I think I could ask around. Talk to some old contacts to see who might be willing to help us out.”

“How long will that take you?” Gameset asked.

“Should just be a quick phone call,” the hero answered.

“Well then,” Mirror Mirror said. “Inform me when you’re finished. I shall be browsing at the store.”

The heroine waved a prim hand and strode through the columns.

Firestarter followed. “Me too, dude.”

“Want to head in?” Gameset asked Approximo.

“Should we not wait with Of a Kind? For moral support?” Approximo asked. “I was told phone calls are very stressing.”

“Eh, he doesn’t strike me as the sort to get stressed,” Gameset said. “Come on.”

“Alright then,” Approximo replied.

The two walked into the store. Instantly, the smell of cut cloth and dye assaulted them, along with a single attendant.

“Welcome to Sir Worth’s Habiliments, where we stock all your clothing needs. Is there anything I can help you find today?”

“We are looking to find a letter of recommendation for Sir Worth,” Approximo said instantly. “But I believe our friend is already on that task.”

“I see…” the NPC said. “Well, in that case, I can direct you to our sitting room if you would like to wait?”

“Oh yes please,” Approximo said. “I am very interested in this room that is only for sitting.”

“Right…” the storekeeper said. “Then please, this way.”

The NPC moved toward the back of the store, winding through posed mannequins and racks of stylistic clothes. Approximo and Gameset moved to follow, the latter pulling her companions sleeve to whisper in his ear.

“Did you just get us on the waiting list by accident?” she asked.

Approximo looked confused. “Did I? All I did was tell the truth.”

“I guess asking nicely does work sometimes,” the heroine said in disbelief.

Eventually, the NPC stopped in front of a door draped in fine silks. “This way, please.”

Approximo and Gameset walked through the door into a sitting room filled with pictures of models in various heroic dress and poses. Rows of plush couches sat underneath the pictures, their cloth almost as fine as the people sitting on them.

The others already in the room looked to be aristocrats, or at least filthy rich. Their dresses and suits were cream white, spotless in appearance. Over the clothing were geared accessories of gold and silver, bejewled with deep red rubies and night blue sapphires.

One of the sitters spoke up, a woman with curly hair perfectly cut to resemble ocean waves and the color to match. “Well, well. New faces. Such a rare treat. Isn’t that right, Mycroft?”

“Quite, Antonia.” Mycroft stood and offered a hand to Approximo. “A pleasure to meet you, sir. Mycroft’s the name, though I’m sure you already picked that up from my companion.”

“I am Approximo,” the hero answered, taking the man’s hand. “This is the face I always have, so I don’t think it is new but thank you for saying so.”

Mycroft and Antonia exchanged glances, then burst into polite chuckles.

“A wit on this one,” Mycroft said to Gameset. “And you are, Madam?”

“Serene Morgan,” Gameset said. “Approximo here is a hero and needs a rather special set of clothing.”

“Yes, it must stretch,” Approximo said.


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