[American Gods] Hand-Me-Downs (PG)
Mar. 27th, 2011 05:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic's "American Gods, Shadow, monkey suit"
Shadow never thought of himself as the type to wear a suit to work, ever, and yet here he was, wearing a black three-piece suit. Off the rack, yeah, but it still fit him, oddly enough. With his height and build, he had to have his tuxedo custom fit when he married Laura. Finding clothes that actually fit him was a miracle in and of itself.
Given who he worked for, he wasn't sure he wanted to know where his employers got it from.
As he drove the hearse back from a pick-up, he finally got up the courage to ask Mister Ibis as the thin, bird-like man rode shotgun with him. "By any chance, did you bury a line-backer in this suit?" he asked, trying to keep it light.
"An astute assessment," Ibis replied, smiling and adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. "It was, as a matter of fact. Michael Fogarty, high school football hero, died of a fractured neck, during a Thanksgiving game."
"At least he died doing what he enjoyed the most," Shadow observed, getting a clear picture of Michael Fogarty: big kid, known as "Big Mike", with a girlfriend on the cheer squad, looking forward to a college scholarship. He couldn't say that the thought inspired him to wear Mike's suit with pride.
"You recycle suits often?" he asked.
"Only when the family opts for a cremation. Sending those garments to the flames would be a waste of good cloth," he said.
"Clothing reincarnation," Shadow thought out loud.
comment_fic's "American Gods, Shadow, monkey suit"Shadow never thought of himself as the type to wear a suit to work, ever, and yet here he was, wearing a black three-piece suit. Off the rack, yeah, but it still fit him, oddly enough. With his height and build, he had to have his tuxedo custom fit when he married Laura. Finding clothes that actually fit him was a miracle in and of itself.
Given who he worked for, he wasn't sure he wanted to know where his employers got it from.
As he drove the hearse back from a pick-up, he finally got up the courage to ask Mister Ibis as the thin, bird-like man rode shotgun with him. "By any chance, did you bury a line-backer in this suit?" he asked, trying to keep it light.
"An astute assessment," Ibis replied, smiling and adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. "It was, as a matter of fact. Michael Fogarty, high school football hero, died of a fractured neck, during a Thanksgiving game."
"At least he died doing what he enjoyed the most," Shadow observed, getting a clear picture of Michael Fogarty: big kid, known as "Big Mike", with a girlfriend on the cheer squad, looking forward to a college scholarship. He couldn't say that the thought inspired him to wear Mike's suit with pride.
"You recycle suits often?" he asked.
"Only when the family opts for a cremation. Sending those garments to the flames would be a waste of good cloth," he said.
"Clothing reincarnation," Shadow thought out loud.
