Zexion awoke suddenly in his own bed. The abrupt change of location and time was disorienting, to say the least, although he'd have to get used to it.
Slipping out of bed, he mulled over the night. It hadn't been productive in the least; the Nobody really needed to work on that. His thoughts were interrupted when a nurse came in, carrying some new clothes.
"New uniform?" Zexion muttered, eying the clothes distastefully.
"Not at all! Today is the trip to Doyleton, so I've brought you clothes to wear in the town," the nurse responded cheerily. Zexion took the offered clothing and held the shirt up. He stared at it for a good thirty seconds before turning to the nurse.
"What," he began, "in the name of all that might be held holy is My Chemical Romance?"
"I believe it's a musical band that is popular with your age group. I think it suits you very nicely, Milo, with your hair sty-"
"I'm not wearing it."
The nurse placed her hands on her hips. "Now, now, you can't actually think that it would be best to wear the institutes clothing out in public." Zexion opened his mouth to argue that it would in fact be better, seeing as until now he hadn't even heard of such a band, but the nurse cut him off.
"Milo, if you don't get changed quickly, you'll miss the trip," she said firmly.
Several minutes later, Zexion boarded the first bus, arms folded tightly over his chest. He sat down in a random seat, not caring who was next to him. The black pants he'd been given were nearly as bad as the shirt; they were tight enough to just be uncomfortable, leaving the shoes as the only new clothes with any improvement over the institute attire and Zexion himself with very little dignity intact.
no subject
Zexion awoke suddenly in his own bed. The abrupt change of location and time was disorienting, to say the least, although he'd have to get used to it.
Slipping out of bed, he mulled over the night. It hadn't been productive in the least; the Nobody really needed to work on that. His thoughts were interrupted when a nurse came in, carrying some new clothes.
"New uniform?" Zexion muttered, eying the clothes distastefully.
"Not at all! Today is the trip to Doyleton, so I've brought you clothes to wear in the town," the nurse responded cheerily. Zexion took the offered clothing and held the shirt up. He stared at it for a good thirty seconds before turning to the nurse.
"What," he began, "in the name of all that might be held holy is My Chemical Romance?"
"I believe it's a musical band that is popular with your age group. I think it suits you very nicely, Milo, with your hair sty-"
"I'm not wearing it."
The nurse placed her hands on her hips. "Now, now, you can't actually think that it would be best to wear the institutes clothing out in public." Zexion opened his mouth to argue that it would in fact be better, seeing as until now he hadn't even heard of such a band, but the nurse cut him off.
"Milo, if you don't get changed quickly, you'll miss the trip," she said firmly.
Several minutes later, Zexion boarded the first bus, arms folded tightly over his chest. He sat down in a random seat, not caring who was next to him. The black pants he'd been given were nearly as bad as the shirt; they were tight enough to just be uncomfortable, leaving the shoes as the only new clothes with any improvement over the institute attire and Zexion himself with very little dignity intact.