The training session, though formal at first, devolved as time went on. Groups began drifting, bumping into each other as the separation blurred. After the important practicing and information sharing got completed, a jumble formed, and the entire training field devolved into a social. At some point, even, some of the guild members pulled out a table of food laden with snacks. Deuce, a decorated veteran of the Wildheart Sentinels, one of their oldest members with a mission completion record long enough to use as toilet paper, pulled out several decks of cards, and within the blink of an eye, circles formed, chips appeared, and people began shouting “ALL IN.”
Under Alara’s strict supervision though, all attempts to bring out alcohol got quashed. People who had grabbed food reached for their bags, and before they could even touch their zippers, a dragon would be breathing down their necks—its mouth watering as a low growl escaped its mouth. Beyond keeping alcohol out of the social, she also brought it to an early end the moment the clock struck ten. She began ushering people back to the elevator with gentle pushes and not-so-gentle words.
“Mission starts at nine in the morning tomorrow. Chop chop, everyone needs to get back to their rooms to get sleep,” Alara kicked Deuce’s back as she walked by, leaving the man writhing on the ground. Ignoring his wail about his knocked over chips, she helped Hazel to her feet and pushed her towards the elevator before coming up on another group. “Go, go. Don’t you have better things to be doing than this on a friday night? Go hang out with your partners, families, or children. Don’t just lounge around on this random training ground floor.”
“You don’t understand-”
“Yeah, I don’t. Nor do I care to right now, we have work tomorrow, so get to bed sooner rather than later,” Alara shut them up with a sharp glance. “Nobody wants to be working on Saturday, so let’s make it a worthwhile time investment.”
“But we don’t get to hang out like buddies very often! We’re always working-”
“Then do it at home, not on company campus or on company time. We’re not trying to start some weird, toxic work culture,” Alara waved them off once more. “It's stuffy here anyway. If you’re going to do it, do it in someone's backyard on a patio or something.”
By the next morning, Nyssa, dressed in a casual—but eye-catching—outfit, couldn’t help but snort as she watched the others begin to arrive. She, herself, had elected for a cute skirt and a knitted top. The skirt, though pleated, kept her wide range of movement.
“Plus, it has a pair of shorts built into it!” Nyssa smiled, hoisting the skirt to show Celeste.
“No, don’t,” Celeste pressed Nyssa’s hands back down. “Have some decency, and did you forget that we bought this skirt together? We have a matching set.”
After a second of hesitation, Nyssa let go of the skirt’s edge and tapped on her chin. “... Oh yeah, you’re right.”
“That was on purpose wasn’t it?” Celeste raised an eyebrow. “I think most others would assume you’re being a klutz but you were trying to tease me weren’t you? Hmm?”
“Who knows,” Nyssa sang as a stream of laughter left her lips. Covering her smile, she gave Celeste a lookover. “Your outfit is so boring though. All-black? Really? In this day and age? At this rate if kidnappers do show up, everyone’s still going to think you all are the villains.”
“I... didn’t decide it yeah,” Celeste moved her limbs around to give Nyssa a better idea of the clothing’s elasticity. “We’re staying out of sight though? So it's probably fine. I don’t know, you and Titus have such eye-catching outfits, it's a little unfair.”
“Well, it matches the mission, so I can’t complain,” Nyssa smiled, taking a look at the rest. Ryker and Electra, assigned to trailing groups, also came dressed in casual outfits. Theirs though, had been assigned to be grayscale, a little more baggy, and very much so... unfashionable. To not draw attention.
Dressed like bums as Ryker would describe it if he wasn’t the one wearing it.
Albion and Conrad on the other hand, came dressed in outfits similar to Celeste’s. All-black. Head-to-toe. Looking like a ninja at a costume party. Looking like a villain’s henchmen. Looking like a certain team of kidnappers.
Gideon, soon enough, came along too. Wearing a pair of beat up running shoes, a worn pair of blue jeans, and a collared shirt, he embodied ‘exhausted dad’ to a pitifully accurate degree. Neglecting his beard for a couple days as well left him with a half-gray, half-black stubble.
“You... really look like an unkempt dad, you’re surprisingly good at dressing ,” Nyssa looked up to make eye contact with Gideon. “Like... is this maybe your true form?”
“... Nyssa, please have some more faith in me,” Gideon sighed. “I’m fairly well-kept. You’ve seen me your whole youth. When have I ever seen this unkempt?”
“Maybe always? I don’t really remember...” Nyssa turned away, suppressing her laughter as she waved Titus over. “Good morning, are you reading to go on a shopping spree?”
“For sure,” Titus smiled. “My training as an older sibling is about to be put to good use once more. You’re going to be astounded by my ability to hold bags. Never will you have met someone better at holding bags than me.”
“Looking forward to it then,” Nyssa spun on her heel, waving to the other guild members she had grown up with. Once she managed to greet those she felt like greeting though, she let out a long sigh and turned back towards Titus and Gideon. Together, they walked to their assigned car—a boring, beat up, fifth-hand silver sedan.
Sliding into the backseat and clicking the seatbelt over herself, Nyssa looked out the window only to frown. Her eyes wandered over to the fleet of sleek black sedans, unblemished and gleaming under the sun. Celeste slipped into one, Ryker into another, and Albion into another.
Titus, having taken the passenger seat, pulled out his phone and turned back to look at Nyssa. “You mind if I play music? Or do you want to put on your own playlist?”
“I don’t mind at all,” Nyssa shook her head, leaning forward to poke her head through the gap between seats. “Can this car even play music? It looks so old...”
“In can, don’t worry, we had the entire car retrofitted once we got it,” Gideon patted the steering wheel. “It looks like it came out of a dumpster, but it's actually extremely reinforced. Safe enough to carry royalty if it came down to it.... Well, maybe not royalty, but some important politician at least.”