fandomtownies | Prom 2024, Community Center, Friday Evening

Yeah, well, sorry, Smith. You'd just have to deal with someone in this conversation being a little cautious about the potentiality of messing around with somebody's feelings when there was a, well, feelings imbalance involved.

Anyway, Atton shrugged. "I don't think I even own a blazer," he said. "But hey. It'll probably be my last one of these in a long time,. And I do have some good memories of these things, even if it's all people who've left now. So... sentimentality, I guess."

Sigh. You Forceheads and your obsessions with balance.

"How do you not own a blazer?" asked Summer, gawking slightly, but only a little, because, well, easy gift in the bag right there. Probably the equivalent of getting socks, for him, probably, or maybe even worse, considering some socks even came printed with sassy slogans on them that could also be easy substitutions for personality! "And what kind of memories? Can I ask without you getting all maudlin and sad? I want to know what these things were like, back in the Paleozoic era!

"I'm going to be honest, though," she said, taking a moment to look around and shaking her head, "I don't even remember a whole lot from my own prom here except that I did get prom queen."

You know. The important things.

There was a slight pause, and a squint of her eyes, as she remembered something else about her prom and debated about whether or not to mention it.

It was one thing to text him about the weird shit she'd done in the past, it was slightly different face to face without even the added barrier of a bar and booze.

"I own nice jackets," Atton said. "They just don't fit the definition of 'blazer'. Blazers are for frat boys who want to pretend they're better than they are."

He shot her an inquisitive glance, debating whether to stay silent or to actually answer her question, and after a moment or so he leaned gently towards the latter. "It's been a while," he said, "But Sparkle and, space, it's been ages since I thought about him too much, Cade and I would always try to get to the punchbowl first. Then Sparkle got on StuCo and the glitter budget skyrocketed. Nothing maudlin, just good times. Though we did get hit with sex pollen during prom one year which was, uh, interesting. That was the same year we decided to use Sparkle's glitter budget to bomb Skywalker's office, come to think. Or was that Valentine's? I don't know. It all blends together."

Edited 2024-04-19 19:26 (UTC)

Summer nodded a little, about how things eventually just sort of blurred, and also remembered that she had a streak going of illicit activity in the supply closet during these things, she should make sure to keep that going at some point tonight.

"Okay, first," she then said, "I need to just address someone called Sparkle having a glitter budget, and second, if blazers are for frat boys trying to pretend they're better than they are, then what do leather jackets say about the forty-year-olds wearing them to chaperone a high school-community college hybrid prom? And lastly, I'm half certain with this group, that punchbowl is staying family friendly unless one of us teachers spike it ourselves."

She considered it, but Steeeeeve was here and she wasn't risking a Disappointed Dad look from Captain America.

But she didn't see Anakin yet, so the closet should be safe from ice buckets, at least.

"Leather jackets say I wear what I want," Atton said. And then lightly, not unkind, not anything like the angry rant this would've been back in those days, but still somewhat pointedly because this was now the third comment in a row, he added: "I'm not that schlub you drag around, Summer, you're not going to condition me into playing dress-up the way you like it."

He eyed the punchbowl.

"Anyway," he said, "They sure have gotten more wholesome over the years. Kind of makes me feel weird."

Anakin was lucky he wasn't nearby, because Atton had a bone to pick with him and was as of yet undecided how bad he'd feel about making a scene at prom.

Edited 2024-04-20 01:17 (UTC)

"That schlub," Summer volleyball back, "looks amazing, and I didn't even pick this one. That's all him."

But she followed his eyes for a moment, then tilted her head curiously. "Weird how, though?"

"'Conditioned' being the operative word."

Because from here, it just looked like jumping high for Summer's approval.

"Weird as in when I was a student, we'd be making trouble constantly," Atton said. "Now we've got, what, blonde angry chick - who I see isn't here, I approve - and a bunch of 'aw, shucks' people like that guy."

Sorry, Graham.

"It's just weird, that's all."

You say that like it's a bad thing.

"It's teaching," Summer insisted softly. "I am a teacher, after all.

"And did any of your classmates bring a giant rodent in a handicraft cape as their date?" she then challenged, then shrugged. "It sort of comes in waves, I think. Which means we're probably due for a slew of some real asshats for the summer..."

The teaching bit gave Atton - ex-Sith, yes, but a part of him would always believe in some of the central philosophical tenets, which might have fed into why he had been such a mediocre Jedi - pause. He eyed her.

"You can't convince me he came to you all 'hey Summer, I'd like to improve my fancy dress game, can you teach me how'," he said. "I've seen him around. He just does whatever you want him to do." He waved a hand at Stark. "And you've been dressing him for long enough that now he knows how you want him to dress. Congrats."

Summer eyed him right back, and then rolled those eyes. "Yeah," she said, "and he's totally being dragged into it kicking and screaming. And you know what? I'm pretty sure it did start with him asking me for fashion advice, so..."

But then she did try to sort through remembering and sucked in a breath. She looked at Atton for a moment and then siiighed.

"Or it's possible," she reluctantly allowed,"that the reason he asked for help in the first place was because I gave him crap about his wardrobe. But I mean, come on. Look at him, he looks great, he's obviously happy. What's the big deal?"

Of course she knew it; at this point, she was probably just curious how he would respond.

"I mean, I'm not going to tell you to be nicer to him or anything," Atton said, rolling his eyes right back. What? That same Sith philosophy underpinned a lot of why he disliked Stark, and he wasn't about to go liking him more just because he didn't think this was a good idea.

"I wear my clothes because they're how I want to dress," he said. "You might not think it's 'high fashion', but it's me and you can deal with that."

He nodded at Stark.

"That guy has desperately people-pleased his way into a situation where I can't see him under fifty layers of Summer's handbag," he said. "Give it another six months and I'm sure he'll be shaped exactly like your perfect boyfriend."

Summer was quiet for a moment, after that, looking across the room to where Stark was. She broke the pause with another sigh, this one much less dramatic, shaking her head.

"I wasn't trying to get you to change or anything," she told him. "I was just giving you crap, like, snark is our love language. You can in swinging with fashion, and I swung back, that's all. Don't get in the ring if you can't handle a few punches."

Another pause, a look over at him, especially what he was wearing before looking at him more directly. "I'm sorry I made fun of your jacket."

Atton shrugged, suddenly a little more uncomfortable. He was silent for a second, trying to pinpoint the root of that, and--

"I had a jacket when I came here," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I bought it when I fled from the Sith. That and these gloves." The fingerless ones he always wore around here. "I didn't know who I was anymore. Had to make myself someone new. The jacket was a start."

A pause.

"Not trying to make this whole thing maudlin again," he said. "We can go back to talking about past dance adventures."

Summer huffed sought again, arms folded in front of her, bug it was mostly just a dramatic buy some time to sort through all the things she thought about saying in response to that, but none if them she actually wanted to say.

"Well, great," is what she finally came up with. "Now I can't make fun of it, if it's part of your tragic backstory. I guess now I'll have to focus on...."

Her eyes flicked over him real quick.

"Your hair. Unless you're getting away with cutting it lole that because it's an homage to some dude who valiantly sacrificed himself after revealing he was secretly your father this whole time, or something."

"Oh, you can make fun of this particular jacket, I just bought it because it's more Earthy."

Well, she could make fun of it now, with the boundaries firmly set.

"And I should probably cut my hair." It was getting pretty long.

Well, it was nice to be clued into the fact that there even were boundaries, though she sure wished they didn't have to get there via disparaging remarks to uninvolved third parties.

And now he'd also got her thinking. Rude.

"It's not a bad jacket," she allowed. "But it is a bad haircut."

Were the uninvolved third parties really uninvolved if they were the reason Atton was twitchy about getting that commentary from her in the first place?

"Ugh," he muttered, reflexively reaching up to his hair. "I always had it short around here, long back in New York, and now I have to figure out which way to go with it."

Metaphor? Metaphor.

Edited 2024-04-20 04:08 (UTC)

Yes. Or they should be, because that was ridiculous. The last thing Summer needed was two Starks.

"Just whatever you do," she said, "don't meet halfway with a mullet. There's literally one type of dude who can actually get away with that, and you ain't it."

"Is there one type of dude who can get away with it?" Atton said. "Or is that dude just too deluded to be convinced otherwise?"

"Yes," said Summer, firmly, without hesitation. "Because I knew Gladio back when he had his mullet, and trust me, he was definitely getting away with it..."

Although it definitely was said in a way that made it clear Gladio could get away with murdering kittens, too, as far as Summer was concerned.

"What? The big guy?" Atton pulled a face. "Eh, I can't see it."

Ideally, Summer would have just whipped out her phone and two seconds later, she'd be handing it over to Atton with all the proof and data collected through the years.

But she underestimated how much crap she actually had on her phone....so this might actually take a while, but damned if she wasn't determined.

Atton watched her go at it a while, nonplussed. "I'll just stand around a while for the comedic effect beat, I guess."

Summer rolled her eyes again.

"Thank you," she said. "Sorry I have a rich social life and am also too lazy to ever delete or organize anything."

She was making a vow to do some of that later, though she would absolutely forget about it later.

Finally, though, after several minutes of rigorous searching, she finally let out a victorious "ah-ha!" and then turned her phone to show off the picture on it.

"I mean," she implored, "come on."

Edited 2024-04-20 09:05 (UTC)

Atton leaned over obligingly, to get a good look.

"Eesh," he said. "I feel like I'm being pressured to sign up for crossfit just looking at him."

Prom 2024, Community Center, Friday Evening

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