An Issue Of Size
He really, really needed to stop being so damn lazy. It was the truth honestly - lazy had been exactly what he'd been, though every now and then it wasn't such a bad thing, right ?
Graff had certainly taken it easy since coming back from Outland, honestly. He had spent most of his days over at the orphanage, amusing and playing with the kids. That, or he was just hanging out with Azul or Penney, or running some smaller errands. Vael and Lan seemed to have outright vanished, which was curious in itself, though it meant that if he stayed over there, he more or less had the whole place mostly to himself. Which was kind of awesome, even if it had a similar effect as leaving a teenager with a whole home to himself for a week.
Only difference was that Graff hadn't invited his friends over and trashed the place.
It also meant he had the whole kitchen mostly to himself, most likely to poor Illiad's chagrin. He did try to at least replace some of what in inhaled, but Graff didn't always remember, since he didn't have to think about it when he was with Asedri and Taj. He'd tried to, but he had learned very quickly that Delphine had an iron fist in controlling her kitchen, and liked it that way.
Still, honestly, enough was enough. He needed to at least smash some targets, though finding an actual person to spar with would be best. Moving some would do him some good, really.
There would, however, be a problem with this plan. He would start with the leg part of his armor as he usually did, but then the problem would become more apparent. Really, there were two problems, if one would have preferred to be exact. One on each hip. He blinked, quite confused at what he was facing. His armor had fit just fine just a few weeks ago, hadn't it ? The last time he had worn it, it had slid on without as much of a thought.
Still, no attempt at tugging and pulling would make the leg armor pass over the... Well, not squishy, not really, but the two more sizable barriers that had taken residence on his hips.
That had to be a bloody joke, right ? A few more attempts at tugging made Graff come to the conclusion that this was very much not a joke, and that he knew exactly who to blame for this.
"Youuuuuuu...."I what ? Nuhava had not exactly been paying attention, but he could feel her peer though his consciousness to see what was the issue with her host.
About time you actually noticed. Well, it had to go somewhere, you know. Certainly you know how biology works ?”Of course I know how biology ******** works !!” Honestly. He wasn't
stupid. And he had no want to use his 'indoor voice' at the moment. Screeching out loud was rather satisfying.
”And it doesn't ******** WORK THAT WAY !!”Not for men, at least.
Stop pouting so horribly, Taylor. It is rather childish. Beside, do you think having it all stuck to your middle in easy teasing and poking reach would be any less embarrassing ?“Actually, YES !”Graff would get the distinct impression that the goddess would be poking at him if she could have.
Beside, I warned you. You did not pay attention."I hate you... so ******** much.... Right now..." Couldn't she see how god damn embarrassing this was ?! Now that he took a good look in the mirror, it was even worse. He looked like a damn woman ! Did his hips really need to be so god damn huge ?!
Though, thankfully, it seemed like... other parts were intact. And his chest was flat as it should be. He twisted and looked from all angles, suddenly more than a little paranoid. That was a small bit of relief, at least. Though... s**t, was his butt... ?
Yup. That was a girly butt. He knew a girly butt when he saw one. Just because he had been a street urchin for most of his teenage years did not mean he didn't know what a girly butt looked like. He had admired quite a few in his time.
“SON OF A b***h !”Oh come on. A good grip's an important thing. He could hear Nuhava's stifled laughter.
It is not that bad. Better than being a walking stick like you used to be.”Not talking to you.” He would find his jeans and put them back on. Sure enough, they felt tighter than they used to be, and grumbled. How the hell hadn't he noticed ?
Uuuuugh.
Still, now he had a problem on his hands. He needed that armor, after all ! More importantly, he needed to fit his fat a** in said armor. The easy solution to this problem was to go see Val, but that was a solution that would be humiliating on more levels than he cared to think about at the moment, so a solution that was discarded completely.
He knew a thing or two about sewing, really, he'd had no other choice but to know learn how to at least sew holes closed, buttons back on, and whatnot, to make what he had last as long as it could. Maybe if he just pop that seam open and just gain some space there, he would at the very least fit though.
There are so many flaws in that plan, would you like me to point them all to you one by one ? “Still not talking to you.”So he would proceed with the plan, though it would fall short before he could truly do too much damage, thankfully. Leather was a much different beast that cloth, after all, and while he could find the seam easily enough, the whole thing was stitched so tightly that trying to unto them was pretty much impossible with what little expertize he had. That, and from what he could see of the thread, iot was much thicker than anything he was used to handle.
Graff would frown to himself, staring down at the leg armor that was quickly becoming the worst nemesis he had ever faced in his whole life. It seemed like he had little other choice but to face public humiliation.
Gods, he was probably going to die on the spot, but what other option did he have ? With a sigh, he would grap his shirt from where it had been tossed on the floor earlier, gather up the armor in a bag, and headed toward the inn.
The longer the others didn't notice any of that bullshit, the better.
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