Related Collectible
Lore
Allstar Mark
"How you feel is how you look, my dear. And I want you feeling your best!" –Eva Levante
The afternoon sun warms the courtyard's flagstones. Well-fed pigeons coo from balcony railings. Tree branches covered in new buds stir in the breeze. Ships hang in the air above the City where the Traveler used to sit.
And a dozen Guardians brandish weapons and accessories at one another.
"I don't know what you're talking about," declares a Sentinel. The chased patterns on her silver gorget match her shield. "Obviously, taking a punch is the most important thing. What else is armor for?"
A Sunsinger in an antique tabard pulls off her glove, its fine weave covered in metallic feathers that catch the light. She shakes the glove at a Bladedancer. "Genuine batadactyl feathers. These gloves have flown in Venus's upper atmosphere. They resonate with Solar energies. That's the key."
"Batadactyls don't have feathers. You overpaid, darling," says the Bladedancer. "When I personally slay the Witness, what my armor will need is style. And you're lacking that too–"
A pair of Solar wings ignite on the Sunsinger's back. The temperature of the courtyard rises two degrees. The Guardians reach for their weapons.
"Oh my. Has Lord Shaxx set up a new Crucible arena in the Tower?"
The Guardians freeze and turn to see Eva Levante. Her crisp scarf is perfectly coordinated with her stylish-yet-practical shoes.
A Sunbreaker shuffles over to hide a scorch mark on the ground.
The Bladedancer speaks first.
"Eva! You're just who we need! You can solve all our problems!"
Perfectly calm in the face of three Gambit teams' worth of Guardians, Eva says, "Solving all of your problems might be even beyond me, my dear."
The Sentinel's shield fades to nothing as she comes to the same realization. "You can solve our biggest problem," she says. "You're the expert!"
Guardians speak over each other.
"Grandmother!"
"Auntie Eva!"
"Ms. Levante!"
She looks them over. More Guardians than Zavala would send after some great beast, all staring at her with pleading eyes.
"Oh, all right. I could use a break from the holiday crowds."
Eva raises a finger to her audience.
"When I was in couture, I used a three-part rubric: form, function, and flair. So, one at a time, down the path and back. I want to see your look, I want to see what it can do… and, most of all, I want to see how it makes you feel to wear it."
And the Tower's first-ever fashion show begins.
