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Oz had been attending shindigs like this his whole life. The maternal uniteven had pictures of him at a president’s house a week after he’d been pushed down the slip-and-slid of life. But he’d never been quite as good at it as his folks—the schmoozing and subtle venom. While he thought he was charming, his tendency to devolve into nerdville turned a lot of people off. Luckily, he had inherited one thing from Gramps: complete lack of care about what people thought of him.[break][break]

That was usually why he ended up playing with his Rubik’s cube in the corner at the end of the night. That or drawing things on annoying people’s faces in SnapChat.[break][break]

His suit was the latest in fashion. Perfectly cut and black with a crystal studied kerchief. The lapels, though, oozed Oz eccentricism. They were custom souled silk and stuffed with the different hats common to the terrastalization phenomenon. The Eelektross floating beside him, clad in a black vest, wore little cuffs with an identical pattern. Small ‘ear’rings ran the length of its head fin. As their young hostess took the stage, Oz turned away from the steel magnate he’d been stuck in a conversation with.[break][break]

When she finished her introduction, he lifted his glass of champagne high, offering a whistle for the trouble.

Sure, that little speech meant nothing, but managing to say so little in so many words was a true gift. He offered a blinding smile to the person he’d be conversing with. “It’s been fun, but our host calls. Keep up the girder work.”[break][break]

Turning away from his Eelektross—not wanting to interrupt her ‘conversation’ with a bejeweled Arcanne—Oz pushed his way into the crowd.[break][break]

A few finger guns were pointed at familiar faces as he made his way to Evette. On the way, he grabbed a few chocolate-covered strawberries from the hors-d’oeuvre platter. Even though they broke him out, he was a sucker for them. Finally, he reached his destination. [break][break]

“Yo, Cruella.” Somehow the way he said that word wasn’t off. He treated it like most kids used dude or bro. After swallowing, he stepped squarely into Evette’s path. “The fur’s an interesting touch.” He remembered loving his mom’s fur coat until he realized where they came from. [break][break]

His grin is friendly. Whether or not he’s being judgmental is hard to tell. “Just stopping by to compliment the chef, so to speak.” He gestured to the room. “You’ve definitely got this design thing down pat.” Usually, he just made the rich fucks go to Chuck'E Cheese's. It was hilarious.[break][break]

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[attr="class","credit"]MADE BY GUNSMILE