On the way to the convention.

Even a half hour after Emily had come out of her room in her costume, Camilla still didn't know what to say. It felt like her daughter had made her costume out of spite, as if she was 'sticking it' to her lame old mom. Was that what Emily thought of her? Would she go to those lengths just to play a cruel joke? If she would, then Camilla must have really made some sort of mistake somewhere when she had been raising her daughter.

The two Shah women sat in the car in total silence, amid the chaos of the city streets around the convention centre. It had been bumper to bumper traffic for miles now, and the sidewalk was full of con-goers and cosplayers making their way. Apparently arriving a few hours late didn't make the traffic any less bearable.

To her credit, Emily seemed actually excited. She had her face pressed up against the window, watching the cosplayers with an enthusiasm that Camilla had once felt herself. Maybe there was hope for her, and this weekend, after all.

Then Emily spoke up. "Look at those abs," she said under her breath. Camilla glanced over to see that her daughter was checking out some guy dressed as Kratos-- some guy that was probably closer to Camilla's age than Emily's! How predictable. She should have known that Emily would never have been interested in the cosplay for the worksmanship. And it really was a good cosplay. And, in fairness... those really were some incredible abs. And those arms! What Camilla would do for--

No! Camilla **** her eyes back to the road. She was a married woman, and she only had eyes for her husband, even if her husband didn't have eyes for her much anymore. She refused to stoop to the level of ogling beefy, gorgeous cosplayers. Who were flexing their biceps...

Camilla growled softly. This day might be harder than she thought.

There were cheers outside. Had some famous person or cosplayer just arrived? Camilla had been hoping to get a look at the renowned BB Brigade today, who were supposed to be dressing as characters from Overwatch, apparently. But it didn't seem to be them that the crowd was cheering for. Camilla scanned the streets, trying to figure out what or who was so exciting, when she slowly figured out that the cheers were coming from beside the car. She glanced over to find Emily half-leaning out the window, slowly unzipping her skintight leather top!

Camilla's finger slammed on the power-window switch, forcing her daughter to duck back inside the van. It looked like Emily had pulled the steel ring on her zipper down nearly halfway, showing off far too much cleavage and most of her black bra underneath. At least the girl didn't have much cleavage to show off, if there was any saving grace to this at all. "Young lady," Camilla snapped. "Is that any way for a Shah woman to act? Think of how your poor grandmother would have felt. Or your father! I'm sitting right here!"

Camilla had her eyes on the roads, but she could almost hear her daughter rolling her eyes. "God, Mom, it's not a big deal. I'm wearing a bra, and besides, it's nothing they haven't seen before."

I wouldn't be so sure about that. This is a convention after all, Camilla thought. She didn't dare say it out loud for fear of encouraging or enabling Emily to try a stunt like that again. "Do up your zipper," was all she said to her daughter.

Emily scoffed, but she did as her mother ordered, crossing her arms over her chest and sulking a little.