Commission ME2 Dress Up by ~Jinzali
A drabble inspired by this artwork by Jinzali!
“So Halloween is just people dressing as fictional characters?” asked Garrus, looking down at his black armour and the yellow symbol Shepard had painted on his chest with uncertainty.
“Historical figures, too, but yeah,” Shepard replied. She attached the mag-clamps sewn into the black cape to his cowl. “It used to be a Celtic religious thing. It transformed over time.” She adjusted how the cape draped over the back of his cowl. Shepard stepped back and ran her eyes over Garrus. “Looking good, Batman!” Shame about the cowl, though. There was no way a bat cowl would fit over his fringe.
“Why Batman? Who is Batman, anyway?” queried Garrus. He rotated at the hips, making his cape sway and flow as he moved.
“I’ve let your education in human popular culture lapse if you don’t know that,” answered Shepard. “Batman is the quintessential vigilante superhero. Billionaire Bruce Wayne had his parents murdered in front of him as a boy and swore an oath to dedicate his life to the pursuit of justice. Bruce travelled the world, seeking training in every form of martial art, gymnastics, acrobatics, criminal forensics, psychology, criminology, anything that would enable him to pursue his goal.” As she talked she opened her armour locker where her usually black armour had been painted a deep blue. Shepard had already put a temporary black dye through her normally red hair and slicked it back with some hair gel.
“So why didn’t he become a security officer? Why fight crime as a giant flying rodent?”
“Gotham City was a crime-filled pus hole. Cops, politicians, judges were on the take from organised crime. There was no place corruption didn’t reach,” said Shepard as she strapped the armour pieces to her undersuit. “Bruce Wayne decided to fight crime as an individual but he needed an edge, something to counteract the numbers he was up against. He had one failed attempt at stopping crime that had nearly killed him. He sat in his empty mansion, the old Wayne family manor, brooding until a giant bat crashed through a window, scaring him and it sparked an idea. ‘Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot’ he said. He decided to use fear as his edge. The costume, the cape, using the dark, stealth and most importantly - brains became his weapons.” With her armour now on, Shepard handed Garrus her cape, which he attached under her pauldrons. Nearly done. Just fix the hair and put the symbol on her chest.
“So one man up against a city filled with crime and corruption,” mused Garrus. “Huh. I see why, now. I can definitely relate.”
Shepard moved to the bathroom. She carefully teased out a thick strand of hair and arranged it into an S shape on her forehead. Perfect. “I have to show you the Nolan movies. They’re some of the best of the Batman movies. The later Kajima ones from the 2090s are good too. Just avoid the elcor adaptation.”
Shepard headed back down to the main living area of her quarters. “So you want me to paint this on your chest?” Garrus asked, pointing at the image on the datapad.
“Yeah. Think you can handle it?” teased Shepard.
Garrus’ mandibles flicked out, the turian equivalent of eye-rolling. “Please. So you’re dressed as…?”
“Superman. ‘Strange visitor from another planet with powers and abilities far beyond mortal men. More powerful than a locomotive, faster than a speeding bullet, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.’” Shepard quoted. She loved that hokey old introduction from the ancient television show. Even if she had to look up ‘locomotive’ on the extranet. “Jack calls me ‘queen of the girl scouts’. Well, Superman is the ultimate boy scout.”
Garrus had already painted the red outline of the shield and was moving on to the stylised S. Painting his colony markings over the years had obviously made Garrus a deft hand with a brush. Garrus finished the S and went to clean the brush and get the small tin of yellow paint Shepard had used earlier. Shepard grabbed the pair of spectacles off the coffee table. Kasumi had done a great job in acquiring the capes but Shepard had no idea where the thief would have found glasses. Especially a pair that looked this vintage.
Garrus bent over to start filling in the shield with yellow. Garrus’ mandibles started twitching and his brow plates drooped as he painted. “What’s wrong, Garrus?” He was embarrassed, Shepard realised.
“Just suddenly felt… awkward, painting this uh… region,” stammered Garrus.
Shepard, with her weight on her right leg, left hand on her hip, started twirling the glasses in her fingers. She smirked as she looked at Garrus. “Just finish it, already,” she ordered with an amused tone.
“Superman and Batman, best friends and equals. Partners in the never-ending battle. Heroes and symbols. World’s Finest,” Shepard declared. “Yeah, that will do.”