Looking up from where he was currently sitting on the floor, surrounded by the contents of Beat's closet, Tran blinks up at Beat. "Did you know you own more dresses than I do? I counted."
"Ain'tchu ever heard of privacy?!"
"I needed to borrow a pair of pants," Tran says, like that explains how he managed to break into Beat's room. He holds up a black Gothic Lolita abomination. "Why do you have all these, anyway? Do you have a girlfriend or something? Is it that girl who manhandled you at the party?"
"Man, they's for stats!" Beat snatches the dress from Tran's hands. "Sometimes a bro's gotta wear a dress so he can punch stuff better, yo! Don'tchu wear dresses for the same reason, Train?"
"Beat, I wear dresses because I like them." Tran tilts his head slightly. "I mean, they make me feel powerful, but it's a different kind of power than what you're talking about."
"You mean how you gotta have high bravery to wear 'em, so's they make you feel confident?"
"... Something like that, sure." Shaking his head, Tran stands. "Anyway, can I borrow a pair of pants? The Super High School Level Therapist wants me to wear pants for a week to increase my self worth or some shit and I don't own any. Because I hate them, which I tried to explain but well."
There wasn't really any need to explain how poorly trying to argue with the SHSL Therapist usually went. They'd all done it at some point, so really it was usually easier to just do whatever bullshit task they were assigned.
"Can'tchu just make whatever intern has a crush on you buy 'em? Ain't that how you get all your other clothes?"
"I don't actually want to own a pair of pants, Beat. If I own them, what's his face is going to make me wear them to meetings and shit and I would rather explain the every food in the kitchen to Hanbei. Again."
"Aight, aight. Whatever, man, take a pair of pants and just never mention any of dis to anyone. Ever."
Grabbing a pair of Beat's pants from the pile of clothes, Tran waves his concern off. "Sure, it's our secret. I won't tell anyone."
"You swear?"
"Cross my heart," Tran says with a smile, "and hope to die."
Really, given that wording, Beat shouldn't have been entirely surprised that Tran texted basically the entire Future Foundation a picture of Beat's closet before he'd even walked all the way back to his room.
no subject
Looking up from where he was currently sitting on the floor, surrounded by the contents of Beat's closet, Tran blinks up at Beat. "Did you know you own more dresses than I do? I counted."
"Ain'tchu ever heard of privacy?!"
"I needed to borrow a pair of pants," Tran says, like that explains how he managed to break into Beat's room. He holds up a black Gothic Lolita abomination. "Why do you have all these, anyway? Do you have a girlfriend or something? Is it that girl who manhandled you at the party?"
"Man, they's for stats!" Beat snatches the dress from Tran's hands. "Sometimes a bro's gotta wear a dress so he can punch stuff better, yo! Don'tchu wear dresses for the same reason, Train?"
"Beat, I wear dresses because I like them." Tran tilts his head slightly. "I mean, they make me feel powerful, but it's a different kind of power than what you're talking about."
"You mean how you gotta have high bravery to wear 'em, so's they make you feel confident?"
"... Something like that, sure." Shaking his head, Tran stands. "Anyway, can I borrow a pair of pants? The Super High School Level Therapist wants me to wear pants for a week to increase my self worth or some shit and I don't own any. Because I hate them, which I tried to explain but well."
There wasn't really any need to explain how poorly trying to argue with the SHSL Therapist usually went. They'd all done it at some point, so really it was usually easier to just do whatever bullshit task they were assigned.
"Can'tchu just make whatever intern has a crush on you buy 'em? Ain't that how you get all your other clothes?"
"I don't actually want to own a pair of pants, Beat. If I own them, what's his face is going to make me wear them to meetings and shit and I would rather explain the every food in the kitchen to Hanbei. Again."
"Aight, aight. Whatever, man, take a pair of pants and just never mention any of dis to anyone. Ever."
Grabbing a pair of Beat's pants from the pile of clothes, Tran waves his concern off. "Sure, it's our secret. I won't tell anyone."
"You swear?"
"Cross my heart," Tran says with a smile, "and hope to die."
Really, given that wording, Beat shouldn't have been entirely surprised that Tran texted basically the entire Future Foundation a picture of Beat's closet before he'd even walked all the way back to his room.