Lie Abilities
July 5th
09:40 EDT
Washington DC
She's been staring at her phone for some time now, barely awake as she scrolls down the thread of missed calls. Her mother had called five times last night. Her father, twice. And he's not the type to call a third time, which makes the callback all the more incumbent. When she taps his name, the phone barely rings once.
"Where's Amanda?" Even with poor reception, he somehow makes his anger palpable.
"Dad, she's asleep." Novia groans. In truth, her aunt never came home last night. And she knows better than to just outright lie, despite having done it many times before. But she'd normally think twice before doing it to her father. She surmised long ago that with the distance he cannot sense any sort of quiver through the glass—or whatever he feels when she lies. Because he's apt to call her out on it—sometimes even before she has the chance to think of a lie.
"Novia, you realize you never called when you reached?" He says. His frustration is still there, only slightly settling.
"I know…" she shifts, rubbing the soreness from her jaw. She suspects she forgot her retainer back home. "We've just been busy watching the fireworks,"
If only.
"Novia, it's mid-day," He responds through his teeth.
There's no guarantee this will work—there's never a guarantee with him. But she tries anyway, "I know, I'm sorry,"
There's a silence between them and through it, she hears Ishaan exclaim something in the background—something along the lines of I'm ready.
Then her father exhales, "Look. I have to take your brother to swim practice. Just please talk to your mother. At least before the weekend,"
"Alright," she agrees. At least he's no longer upset. If he was, she doubts he'd say please.
They bid each other farewell and Novia is once again faced with the eerie silence of her aunt's home. She stares at the curtains, the glow of sunlight underneath them, briefly indulging how her skin reacts to the window. And finally, she grows annoyed enough to push herself out of bed.
The first thing she tends to is her teeth. Her sleep bruxism was terrible last night and after checking her bag, she's entirely certain that she forgot her retainer back home.
Her own reflection supplements her dilemma. This bleary-eyed girl is hardly recognizable. Even after washing her face, she sees no improvement. And all of it just circles in the very brown of her irises. Cadmus, her aunt, Desmond—beyond of which makes her retract from the mirror, fingers snapping up to trace her forehead.
The landline rings. The sound echoing throughout the home. It rings twice before the girl leaves the bathroom to chase it. A fourth time before she picks up the nearest phone in the kitchen.
She swallows now, realizing that she never checked the caller ID. "Hello?"
"Novia?"
The voice is not one she anticipated—part of her had been ready to assume it belonged to a dead woman. But still, her heart flutters, because she doesn't want that part of her to ever be right.
"Auntie? Is that you? Are you alright?"
Amanda exhales, relief filling her tone, "I was about the ask the same thing to you. But yeah, I'm alright. Though Cadmus on the other hand…"
Novia's face tightens as she recalls the destruction. Half of it credited to Blockbuster and the other half—
"Yeah… the guys kinda had a field day."
"'Kinda?'" her aunt scoffs, muttering something to herself before sighing, "Well, whatever they did, it worked. The Cadmus board of directors placed Guardian in charge and things seem to be—"
She is cut off by a distant call on her end. A mixture of sounds follows—all of it urgent. Novia hears the woman respond, directing someone to place her stuff on the loading dock before she returns to their conversation. "Look, we're relocating to a temporary facility now so things are a bit hectic."
Novia shifts, quickly retracing where she left her keys and shoes, "Do you need help?"
"We're nearly done anyway," Amanda says, divided between Novia and the activity around her, "Get some rest. I should be back around eleven tonight,"
"Alright," Novia, reluctantly resigns. Though it sounded like a promise, she cannot help but wonder:
What is she supposed to do for thirteen hours?
§ § §
Nightfall comes far too slow for Novia after having flipped through the TV channels a dozen times. Earlier, she had resorted to cleaning. She dusted, swept—even assorted the non-perishables in the cupboards. Anything to keep her mind busy.
When she hears the clicking of the locks in the front door, she feels relief surfacing after a ripple of panic—the slight chance that it was not her aunt at the door. But it's the sight of the young woman, her disheveled appearance and visible weariness, that makes Novia exhale.
"You're alive," She embraces the woman—her aunt. Needless to say, the phone call could only assure so much.
Amanda is never reluctant to return a hug. But Novia is one of her more reserved relatives—who grows more reserved by the year—and it takes a moment for the gesture to register before she returns it.
"I'm getting you an earlier flight," Amanda says after the silence has droned on long enough.
Novia abruptly retracts, "What? Why?"
"I won't be home often—if at all, Novia" Amanda rubs her temple, "I don't think your parents will be fine with that."
No, they won't at all. Especially her father. And she doesn't even want to think about what he'd have to say.
But no. She is not returning to Bermuda. Not just yet.
"And what are you going to tell them?" Novia asks, "That your boss went berserk and nearly shot me before going on to clone three sidekicks? I'm sure they'd love that."
Her aunt frowns, "Novia—"
"And you can add that he became a monster afterward? That he nearly brought the building down on our heads?"
"Novia—"
"Just make sure to start with the fact that your job has been one big lie the entire time," She hisses.
Amanda places a hand on her niece's shoulder, "Novia, I understand you're upset but—"
She pulls away, "Upset isn't even half of it!"
"Novia, please!" Her aunt cries now looking around at the sudden tremble that swept her house.
The girl withdraws, suddenly feeling her conscience slip—almost fall. She breathes at the resounding whispers of glass overhead, holding her throat because the chandelier was shaking, the windows had groaned, the lights around them flickered and she—
"I-I'm sorry," Novia's words bring the glass around her to a standstill. Her hands shake from sudden debilitation, "I—"
Amanda catches her before she falls. A wave of anger provides Novia the energy to immediately pull away. Her thoughts still revolve around the Cadmus incident, now tumbling towards the aftermath. The mess. The rubble. The League. And she remembers—
"I'm joining them," she says. At first, her aunt is visibly puzzled by the word them—specifically how broad it is. And the concern arises in her eyes when she finally narrows down the possibilities.
"You're joking," Amanda chokes. Novia almost pities the woman, wishing she was joking because her aunt's eyes grew wide at the thought.
Yet, she shakes her head, "Batman presented the opportunity. He said Canary will be here in three days,"
"Black Canary?"
Novia shrugs. And her aunt says nothing, merely holding her head, lips moving with inaudible deliberation as she leaves for the salon.
"I cannot believe you..." Her words seem to carry the weight of tears.
Novia hurries after her, "Well, you're busy with Cadmus. What am I supposed to do?" This time, she is wary of her own emotions and the way they influence the glass around them.
Amanda whirls to her, "Anything is better than the choice you've made. Do you really think your parents will approve?"
"No, but—"
"Then why did you even agree to it?"
"I…" Novia pauses, "I did it for me."
She drops onto the sofa, staring into the black screen of the TV. There sits her silhouette, now accompanied by her aunt's as well as someone else's. A young girl. She notices the white in her hair even when it's muted by the shadows. She is faceless, expression obscured by the black glass. Yet Novia can still feel her gaze. And it's why she returns it.
"All my life, I thought I needed to be fixed—to be normal. And on the surface, it worked. But inside, I don't feel like anything has changed." She pulls a braid out of her face, "I can still feel and hear glass. And I realized that I can never escape that place that scared me as a little girl."
She blinks, feeling her aunt place a hand on her knee, "But your father—"
"Will learn to deal with my choice" Novia says, at first terse. But she sighs, "I plan on telling him—both of them, eventually. Trust me."
Her aunt's expression remains hardened with apprehension. But she closes her eyes and nods, "The sooner the better,"
Novia can only muster up a faint smirk, "And Cadmus?"
"Remains a facility for genetic research." Her aunt says earning a silent scoff from the girl as she leaves to go back into the kitchen. She returns shortly with her cardboard box of belongings, most of which are remnants—broken trinkets of glass that met their end along with Cadmus.
But the woman dredges up something with careful fingers. A paper—no—a photograph. One that Novia is vaguely familiar with. The same one she saw when she arrived at Cadmus mid-fire.
"That woman. Is she your aunt?" Novia straightens herself to get a better look from afar.
Amanda glances back at her. The smile she was sharing with the photograph becomes faint as she speaks, "No. She's my mother,"
This makes Novia rise. Even within proximity, she frowns, "She looks nothing like grandma,"
Amanda's smile becomes pitiful, almost reluctant as she speaks, "It's because she isn't,"
Novia didn't need the hint. As awkward as it is—finding out in her mid-teens that her grandfather had married twice—makes her smirk, "Rolling stone. Interesting," she scratches her chin, "So does that make you my half-aunt?"
Amanda laughs, "I'd still consider myself your full aunt.
Novia stares at the woman on the photograph, now able to discern the semblance between her and her aunt. Amanda is more her mother's daughter for sure. But she wonders, "Did mom know?"
Amanda looks up, "She found out eventually. But she got over it." Amanda places the photo on the coffee table. "One thing about Liz is that it's hard to get her to hate you,"
Tell me about it. Novia immediately thinks of the bond between her mother and father. One that is perhaps held by her mother's inability to hate. But they are oil and water nonetheless. Had it not been for her mother, she'd never know what lies beyond Bermuda.
Still, Novia frowns. Lowering her head in acceptance. Because if not for her father, she would have never survived to see beyond Bermuda.
July 8th, 2010
01:01 EDT
Washington DC
She is brought from a deep sleep by the intermittence of knocks. Novia is at first unreceptive, believing that her mind was playing tricks on her, then the knocks continue for two rounds until it shifts into rings of the doorbell.
"Auntie?" she murmurs, mouth sore from her bruxism. She swallows, calls out to her aunt, only to belatedly realize that the woman is gone—and has been gone for the past two days.
She throws her legs from the bed, vision blurred as she saunters down the hall with a hand pressed against the wall for support. The doorbell rings three times before transitioning back to knocks, this time harder.
Outside is still dark but beyond the frosted sidelights of the front door, Novia can make out a shadow against the porch. The figure occasionally leans, peering at the glass only to realize that it's opaque, and returns to knocking.
"Is anybody home?" A female voice comes, resonant and easily audible from the distance. It makes Novia stiffen at how well her voice can travel—as though the woman was right beside her.
And she knows better than to answer a door to a stranger—woman or man. But then she says something that makes her shiver.
"Novia, if you're in there, it's me. Canary."
Even at the mention of her name, Novia is still weary—searching for a reason to not open the door. And she can't figure who or why someone would trick her in this manner. So she approaches the door with cautious steps and peers through the peephole to find a blonde in a black bustier with a dark blue jacket over it.
She cannot remember whether or not she saw the woman after Cadmus but she opens the door and the nightly warmth wraps around her.
She scans the dark outlines of the neighborhood. In the distance, a dog barks. And above them, is the moon—still as full as it was during the fall of Cadmus, only more obscured by the cluster of trees and homes.
On the street before her aunt's driveway is a parked car. A black Volvo with a license plate that Novia thinks reads Queen.
"Morning," Canary smiles. Novia would return the greeting had she actually knew the time. As far as she is concerned, it's still night.
"You're… early." Novia frowns.
"Well you know what they say," Canary turns, walking down the steps with cadence, "Early bird gets the worm,"
08:04 EDT
Mount Justice
Novia fails to keep her eyes from wandering around Mount Justice. She hardly soaks in what Batman has to say—too busy wondering how long it took to hollow out the mountain before they installed all this tech. And the few League members flying around installing extra precautions doesn't help with her inattention either.
Her eyes fall back to the team. It's her first time seeing them out of their costumes. They look normal and can certainly pass for the boys she sees around Bermuda. Well—except for Superboy who seems to have taken a liking to the S-shield.
Then there is Robin who—for some reason—is wearing shades indoors. And she guesses it's to accentuate his cockiness, because why else would he need them?
"Red Tornado has volunteered to live here and be your supervisor. Black Canary is in charge of training. And I will deploy you on missions," Batman concludes.
Robin folds his arms, raising a brow, "Real missions?"
"Yes, but covert,"
"The League will still handle the obvious stuff. There's a reason why we have these big targets on our back," The Flash explains.
"And Cadmus proves that the enemies are getting smarter. Batman needs a team that can operate on the sly," Aquaman adds, much to Novia's chagrin. She frowns at the mention of Cadmus and Superboy clenches his fist, evidently more irritated.
Batman nods, "The six of you will be that team,"
Upon those words, the boys fall content. Kid and Robin briefly share a fist bump before Robin shakes his head, "Wait—six?"
Even Novia's brows raise. She quickly counts the team. There are five of them, including her.
They all turn at the sound of footsteps. Two individuals approach from the south corridor of the cave. They're humanoid in a sense as they have four limbs and walk on two. But they also both possess green skin.
The one who seems to be a female has shoulder-length, auburn hair. She wears a white tee with a large red X. Her skirt shares the same shade of blue as her cape, gloves and boots. Her male counterpart is the same man who Novia recalls was consoling Superman after the Cadmus incident. He is still bald with a void, red gaze. Only this time, his body is covered by his blue cape.
"This is the Martian Manhunter's niece, Miss Martian," Batman introduces.
"Hi," Miss Martian waves shyly.
Novia hears Kid whisper, liking this gig more every minute before being the first to approach.
"Welcome aboard! I'm Kid Flash," he points to his teammates, smirking, "That's Robin, Aqualad—it's cool if you forget their names."
Miss Martian smiles warmly as Robin and Aqualad approach, "I'm honored to be included,"
Robin glances back at them, "Superboy, Novia—come meet Ms. M."
Novia is taken aback by the mention of her name—her actual name. But before she can take two steps, a hand grips her shoulder.
She whirls around to see Black Canary. The woman smiles wearily after noticing the panic in the girl's eyes, "I just want to talk,"
Novia sulks, glimpsing back at the team before following her to an entrance leading to another room. When the two enter, the lights flicker on one by one, making the room seem larger with every second.
Soon, before them is an expanse of marley flooring and equipment that one would not find in an everyday gym—unless gyms in America typically have vaulting beams or rings and silk hanging from the ceiling.
Canary steps forward with outstretched arms, "This is the training room,"
Novia raises a brow, "For who? Cheerleaders?"
The remark makes Canary smirk, but she continues, "No. But it has come to our attention that you may be the least experienced member of the team. So, we've decided it would be best to begin your training early,"
"So it's that obvious?" Novia murmurs as she drags a hand along a beam. Then she stops suddenly turning to Canary because—
"Wait, what do you mean by 'we'?"
"You're lack of combat readiness will make you a liability to the team," Batman's voice emerges from behind her.
Novia vitrifies, startled to the point she nearly curses, "Do not do that around me!"
Batman merely ignores her, "You can begin Canary,"
Upon order, Canary positions herself. Her soft demeanor immediately fading as she lunges after Novia. The girl jumps out of the way in the nick of time, ducking under the tallest beam.
"You can't always run from your enemies," Canary says, leaping over the beam with a single breath. She delivers a downward kick just as Novia splits into half, shattering.
Canary looks down at the articles of clothing the girl left behind. Brows knitting as she grumbles, "I can see this being a problem,"
Suddenly she pivots, catching a shadow from the corner of her eye, and latching onto it with both hands. A fist materializing into a forearm. Canary quickly shifts her weight, throwing the girl over her shoulder and downing her before her shards fully can connect.
"It was a good attempt, but you still have much more to learn," Canary says as she looms over the glass figure.
"Right," Novia winces as she feels a crack in her shoulder mend, "Can I have my clothes back?"
§ § §
Her presence drifts as she stares at the glass cupboards, eyes lining the variants of glass—their frequencies varying from light to heavy due to composition. They all extend to her.
This was all daunting once upon a time—how easily overwhelming it used to be. It can still be. But—
"What's up?"
She did see Robin's reflection standing further behind her own. But she brushed it off as an illusion. That is—until he spoke.
"Thinking," she responds, half-mindedly. Realizing now that her voice was trailing she blinks and finally gives him full acknowledgment. He's still wearing his sunglasses and it brings her to ask now that he is here, "Why are you wearing shades indoors?"
"Preference," he shrugs.
Novia frowns—not buying it one bit, "Or you're hiding something,"
Blockbuster probably gave him a black eye. But even that—for some odd reason—is hard for Novia to believe. And she can't figure why her words make him laugh.
"And you're ironically not the most transparent person on this team," He says.
She glowers, "Well—"
Her phone buzzes and Novia is forced to hold that thought. She feels herself run cold when she sees the caller ID. Her mother.
She gestures to Robin to keep quiet but he only watches her with an unwavering smirk. And she decides within the moment she answers her phone, that she will absolutely strangle him if he opens his mouth.
"Novia? Are you alright?!" Her mother does her best to mask the distress in her voice. She sounds breathless, as though she's been physically searching every crevice of the earth for her daughter.
"Mama, I'm fine," Novia assures. Her tone is softer—as always with her parents. Though there's a certain modulation when it comes to her mother.
"And where's Amanda? I've been trying to call her phone but it just goes straight to voicemail," Her mother asks.
"She went to work," It's not a lie, but a truth—a very general one. Her mother doesn't need to know the details of Cadmus nor does she need to know about her near brushes with death.
"And she left you alone?" Her mother starts.
"No! she—" Novia looks around at the kitchen—at Robin who is still smug but also quiet (thank God). But it's his jovial demeanor that bears tangent thoughts. Thoughts of the boys from her school. And something comes to mind—
"She sent me to summer camp."
Upon hearing the sputtered words, Novia winces and Robin muffles a laugh. Because it's dumb. Her mother would never fall for it. And the silence that follows only adds to the burning dread within her.
Then her mother finally speaks, "That is actually a good idea. I mean—I remember the times I've spoken to your father about your social habits as a little girl. I'm sure you can imagine how that went," She laughs. "But this—this is good for you. You are making friends right?"
Novia stands with mouth agape, silent until her mother calls her name for a reply, "Uh, yeah,"
"Good! Make sure to take lots of pictures. I want to know about everything when you come home," She continues, bidding her farewell with kisses over the phone whilst Novia feels entirely withdrawn from the situation.
Robin who has been shaking with contained laughter, finally bursts at the click of her phone, "Really? Summer camp? Was that the best you had?"
Her cheeks grow warm, "Like you had any better ideas?"
"I do actually. Have you ever tried the truth?"
Oh, you're funny, she glowers.
She can't help but confirm her earlier thoughts. He is like the boys from her school. Young and definitely a first-year. His derisive tendencies and small height only take away years rather than grants. She comes to the conclusion that he can't be older than fourteen, making him the youngest of the team—minus Superboy who is literally weeks old and has the physique of a jock.
But being that young…
"I don't buy it." she finally says, defiant.
"Buy what?"
"That your parents support this." Novia gestures to him, "There is no way they know about you and Batman,"
Even when faced with Blockbuster, she has never seen him become this solemn—distant. And she resists any feeling of concern for the boy who was just teasing her not too long ago. Though she suspects he's no longer here.
"You're right, they don't," Robin says.
She wants to call him a hypocrite. But she also has questions. How does he maintain his lie? Especially for so long. But her mouth barely opens before Kid Flash appears by Robin's side with a sudden breeze, "Hey, did you ask her? Miss Martian said she and Supey were going to explore The Cave for a bit,"
Novia leans against the counter, glancing at Robin who has become completely removed. She looks to the speedster, "Ask me what?"
"On a date," Kid winks.
Kaldur steps in, "It was more of a… team celebration. But we understand if you have prior obligations."
She would have considered it under different circumstances—had she not felt the soreness from Canary's training begin to surmount with the guilt she feels after the brief exchange with Robin. For the time being, she can only think of secluding herself in her room. A room that she has yet to pick.
"Another time," she assures, once more glimpsing at Robin. She slings her knapsack over her shoulder and leaves them to their own devices.
Beyond the kitchen is a lounge with a flat-screen TV and a sectional sofa surrounding it. From there, it leads to a corridor of rooms, metallic doors all similar in size that open automatically upon approach.
The first room looks exactly like the second and the second like the third and the fourth is already occupied with belongings—Miss Martian's belongings by the look of it. Novia doubts Superboy is into pink bedding—if he even possesses bedding at all.
Novia settles with the room across from it. It's the same layout as Miss Martian's, a bit larger than her own room back home. The only difference is how minimalist it is and how it completely lacks personality. Her bedding is steel gray like the walls, the ceiling, and the furniture around it.
If only she had some trinkets to make it more like home. Seashells, perhaps. Though they were never her forte, nothing screams islander more than seashells.
She sets down her knapsack and begins sorting through her clothes.
"Are you busy?" Novia turns at the voice hanging by her doorway to find Miss Martian peering in with the same shy expression from their initial encounter, only now she hovers about an inch from the floor.
Okay. She's flying, her mind repeats. The disbelief only swelling the longer she stares at it.
Finally, Novia blinks away, "I'm… just unpacking," She points to the open dresser.
The alien drifts into the room, landing casually beside her and seeming to be entirely oblivious to Novia's stare.
"You're not from here, right?" then, she catches herself. "I-I mean from America. Of course, I know you're from Earth! But—your accent. It's different than everyone else's…" She trails off, struggling to sound less flustered.
Novia can't keep herself from laughing, "I'm Bermudian if that's what you're asking,"
As per her accent, she doesn't hear it. It is the others who sound off at times. But with her three years of visiting America and more than a decade of watching American TV, she has grown to tolerate it.
Miss Martian looks up, recalling, "Bermudian. I think I've heard of it from my Earth studies. Bermuda is an island right?"
Novia nods, slightly perturbed by the mention of Earth studies. Or how she casually said it. But she slowly comprehends it as Martians studying Earth as she would study astronomy.
"It's a group of islands that sits on the west of the Atlantic," Novia explains.
Miss Martian nods, thinking, "How is it there?"
"Quiet. Nothing much happens there, though, tourists would say otherwise." She bites her lip, "Everyone flocks there to escape and I come here to—"
"Escape," Miss Martian finishes absentmindedly. She blinks, blushing and raising her hands in realization, "I swear it was a guess!"
"No worries," Novia laughs. "It was a pretty easy guess anyways,"
Miss Martian clutches her arm, staring at the floor, "I wish could say 'I know how it feels' but Mars is an entire planet. Things there are always changing... but just not enough to keep me there."
"Sounds like you're not a fan of your homeworld," Novia admits.
Miss Martian's head lowers, "Well, I don't mean to be disparaging. But Martian society isn't the most forgiving,"
Novia considers this. She cannot fathom what life is like on Mars. But at the same time—"Well, I can't think of a society that is forgiving,"
Miss Martian withdraws at her words. Then she smiles, "Perhaps you're right."
July 11th, 2010
07:00 EDT
The Cave has been quiet for the past few days. It is within those few days that she has adopted the routine of warming up in the mornings and sparring with Canary around midday. As soon as she wakes up, she changes into sweats and heads down for the training room, only to stop when she finds it already occupied.
"You three made yourselves scarce," she says to the boys. Aqualad and Kid Flash, both in their civilian attire had been watching Robin who sits on a vaulting beam. It's evident they were conversing, albeit quietly or else she would've heard the echoes before entering the room. And upon her entrance, they all look to her.
"We've been... busy," Aqualad says, unsettled. His face is as it was following Cadmus—specifically when after he confronted his mentor. His king. But she notices that they all look unsettled. And it explains why they made their conversation so secretive in the first place.
"You guys did something," Novia concludes, crossing her arms.
"Something isn't even half of it," Kid Flash grumbles. He says nothing else, clearly unwilling to spill any more details. None of them seem willing to say much more. And, frankly, it makes it more obvious that something did occur.
Aqualad had been staring at the floor, face still tense even as he looks up at her, "We went on another mission. This time against The Shadows." He says at last, earning a jab in the side from Kid.
"Dude," The speedster hisses.
Though Aqualad doesn't flinch. "I am convinced she will not inform The League," He explains.
"How do you know?" Novia raises her brow, offering the trio a quizzical smirk.
Robin rises from the beam. "Go ahead," He simply says.
Novia expects him to hop off and leave, but instead, he walks along it, lithesome in form. He pivots, and with a breath, handsprings off the bar. The feat is impressive—how he pulled it off without slipping, considering how thin the bar itself is.
Novia recalls Canary boasting her leniency in training, mentioning that Batman had a more... stringent regimen. And she won't consider Canary to be lax either but if Batman forces his proteges to essentially become gymnasts, then she'd pick Canary any day.
"Show off," Kid teases as they watch him. Then he turns to Novia, "But you are joking right?"
"What do you think?" She asks. She's been around long enough to figure out what would happen to the team had the League found out about this "secret mission". Had they already forgotten the trouble they got into after Cadmus? Then again,
Kid Flash places an arm around her, "I knew you wouldn't rat us out, babe,"
"Don't call me that," she shrugs him off. Now it is she who is perturbed. Earlier, Aqualad had mentioned something about a shadow. No, he specifically said The Shadows. Of course, she's never heard of them before. And, considering how reclusive they were earlier, she isn't sure if she wants to anymore.
July 12th
04:10 EDT
Novia no longer wants to think about the fate of Selena Gonzalez. And The Shadows are just another addition to her nightmares. So when Canary came to her room early that morning, she was slightly relieved. She at least had a reason to not lie around in the dark. Her mind could no longer conjure images of lethal assassins.
But her body feels heavy, weighed down by the lack of sleep and the frequent trainings Canary has been putting her through. Meanwhile, the woman before her moves with her usual brisk, completely unfazed by the early hours—even more oblivious to the fact the girl behind her was thinking about The Shadows.
"Why are we training now?" Novia holds back a yawn.
Canary turns to her with a small smile, "We're not exactly here for training,"
They enter the training room and one by one the overhead lights flick on. At the center is a mannequin standing tall, triumphant with its hands affixed to its hips and legs spaced apart. It wears a black leotard, high-necked with long-sleeves that cover the palms in a v-cut. At the chest is a symbol that is slightly obscured by a black capelet but discernable enough. A reflectively blue arrangement of four rhombi creates a diamond.
Novia stares at the sheer tights, a powder blue with reflective specks that starts out sparse along the thighs and then becomes dense enough to compose boots around the feet. She feels how these specks react to her skin—how the entire costume reacts to her skin.
"Is this—?" She touches the capelet, rubbing it between finger and thumb because what she feels is not possible. It's fabric, for sure. But also, glass.
"Reflective and transparent, non-crystalline structures integrated into a fiberglass composition." Batman suddenly appears behind Novia and Canary, startling the former—mildly amusing the latter.
"I told you to stop doing that!" Novia cries, only to be ignored by the man as he walks past her.
He gestures to the suit, "It should be able to fuse with your glass state without any problem. The fiberglass serves as insulation as well."
Batman taps the diamond on the mannequin's chest. Suddenly, the tights lose their color, becoming a dark gray. The specks along it turn opaque—black. And the symbol itself darkens.
"Stealth-tech. For covert operations," Batman explains, "We're currently incorporating polar-stealth for future missions,"
"And, you designed this?" Novia only asks because—well, frankly—it's hard to envision Batman designing something this appealing. No. She suspects his tastes to be a bit… darker.
She even struggles to believe that Robin's suit was his design as well. And now looking at her own with all its luster, well—
Batman shakes his head, "Canary came up with the design. I provided the material that would best suit your abilities."
Novia turns to Black Canary, stupefied, "It's beautiful," Her fingers once again brush against the suit, this time along the diamond symbol. "Thank you,"
Canary places a hand on her shoulder, "Well, you're a part of the team now. What better way to reward your induction?"
Novia glances back at Batman, "May I try it on?"
He moves to leave, "Negative. Besides, you still have training to do."
"Huh?"
She's suddenly knocked forward. Reflexes send her to roll as she faces her assailant. Canary stands with her fists raised and a sharp smile, "Don't think I'll go easy on you today,"
Novia exhales, immediately righting herself, "Wouldn't dream of it,"