[Case 16: The Art of Design]

"I'm not a wholesale department," Kurt said irritably to the screen. "Nor is my time available for you to siphon off."

"You're a personal superhero designer, you designed the League's outfits, you're in a league of your own!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Kurt retorted, "and will you turn off the voice modulator? You're making my ears heart."

"No."

Kurt glared at the computer screen at the cartoon icon Artie was fond to use as his Avatar for his alter ego.

Second alter ego, Kurt corrected to himself, as he shifted through the designs he had sketched. For a Mundane, Artie was lucky enough to work as a Caper before his unfortunate accident. Much luckier than Kurt. A heightened sense of touch was blessing for daytime job as fashion designer and added boon for nighttime pleasures, but for a superhero work well it was bit of hindrance. He did well with his bow and arrows, but it was more of a novelty and surprise in the twenty-first century. If the Act hadn't forced him into retirement, he would have retired on his own, even if this wasn't exactly what he called a quiet retirement.

Kurt had designed and redesigned various costumes before the Act, and afterwards as he taken one look at superheroes who looked they got their costumes off the Halloween rack and into something proper. And before he knew it he was getting all sorts of offers to clothe other capers, fitting certain needs. Dasher needed something to resisted the high speeds he ran at, Frostbite wanted something that could withstand the subzero temperatures, Rhombus needed her costume to go stretch with her, and so forth. Kurt ended up having to collaborate with Artie who had the technology, even if he lacked the creativity, to pull off some of the designs. Looking back, Kurt regretted making that call since his friend somehow took it as clue to stay involved in the superhero costume business.

But as late, Kurt was just clothing supermodels, and there was nothing super about the models, who Tina colorfully described as bug eyes walking sticks. There was no challenge with the models, nor did Kurt feel the creative energy he got when trying to think of ways to costume capers. Yet he was still slightly peeved he was been sent someone out of the blue.

"What kind of power is durability?" Kurt muttered as he absently sketched.

"A very useful one. It keeps him humble, unlike other people that I know."

"If it wasn't for the Act I still be in the League," Kurt said, "they need someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"You nearly got kicked out for the peacock feathers."

Kurt arched an eyebrow at the screen, "Do I have to bedazzle your wheelchair again?"

Artie's laugh carried through the screen, lifting Kurt's mood for a brief moment. It was good to know at least this job was helping to do more than just get in everyone's business.

The doorbell rang and Kurt stopped smiling.

"He's here. Be nice."

In answer, Kurt shut off the computer screen, twirling it around to show an old picture of him and his friends before he went to greet his guest.

"Hello?"

The slightly familiar voice, followed by a slightly familiar face, that made Kurt's forced smile, edge of side of pain.

Of course it was the new guy that Artie had tapped for a job! Kurt decided right there was going to bedazzle that chair to oblivion and back the next time he want over. Durability he should have known, Artie had said his new recruit was a Mundane.

"Kurt?" Sam said surprised. "You work as -"

"A fashion designer," Kurt said crisply, "I designed costumes on the fly, I even got a few offer for villains I turned them down. I don't want to soil my reputation."

"I don't understand," Sam looked around at the clothes designs framed on the wall. "Why Mirage sent me here."

"Mirage," Kurt said empathizing Artie's codename as he tapped a panel, "is an idiot."

"I thought he was somewhat of a genius."

"He comes off like that, but he's rather obtuse, I have the vision he lacks."

A panel rolled out from the floor of his workshop revealing the fabrics and trappings.

"I meant, I don't need clothes, what I'm wearing is fine."

Kurt eyed Sam's attire, mentally conjuring a imagine of what he wore out and about as Lynx. "Braveheart used to dress like he got his costume off the rack, you dress like you got it from a garage sale."

"Thanks." Sam grumbled.

"You're in a secret operation, and you're not officially affiliated with anyone, but it wouldn't hurt your image to at least dress like it. After all do you need the Rouges laughing at you too?"

"I won't have to deal with them?"

"You're chances are fairly high," Kurt tossed him a common mark up, "try this on, its fairly standard."

Sam held it up to study. "It's bulletproof?"

"No, not bulletproof," Kurt said patiently as he turned around, "it's resistant proof to flame, lightening, pressure points acid, and shocks up to 100 mA. It's not insulated though. I can probably add more since you don't have restrictions."

"Restrictions?" Sam's voice was slightly muffled.

Kurt's voice remained bored and flat, "If you fly or hit speeds clocking 200 mph, it requires looking into the science of the fabric I don't want to call in an expert."

"Mirage?"

"He has no sense to design." Kurt said dismissively, "though I won't argue the practicality of it. And you need a mask."

"Braveheart doesn't wear a mask."

"That's because he mastered the art of playing dumb so no one can pick him out as a civilian. Though you aren't that high profile, pizza boy."

"How?"

"Mirage's an old friend of mind, it's not that hard to wrangle information out of him as needed. Besides why do you think I'm in your neighbor?"

"Coincidence?"

"Do you have it on?"

"Yes."

Kurt turned backed around and studied the costume, his eyes lingering a bit longer than they should have. "Are you a fan of any color scheme? Any adjustments?"

"Actually," Sam sheepishly went over to pick up his jacket off the table and pulled out a creased paper with designs of a costume.

It was rather quaint, cute, if he was pressed to say.

"You have an good eye," Kurt conceded, "but no capes."

"Capes are iconic. After all he wears-"

"You only see in comic books and publicity. Capes are good for flair, but if you can't wear them right, let only use them, why even bother."

"Blackbird and Jovial used them."

Kurt's lips twisted at the names. He had heard those names in while, and wondered just how much in the dark Sam was. "They did, they were Mundanes, I believe the idea was for extra protection."

"I could use that."

"They also were rather acrobatic too," Kurt took the design and became make his own changes on it, "so it was functional. You're a fighter, a brawler, you'll only be hampered."

"If you say so."

"I'm always right."

The rest of the afternoon passed fair enough with Kurt doing the designs for the costume. Usually after he had taken measurements he dismissed the client referring to work on his own, but didn't do it was Sam for some reason. He tried to make an excuse it was because he wanted to grill Sam about working with "Mirage" and so far it was working. Sam didn't hesitate at all to talk about their mutual friend.

"I haven't met him," Sam said as he sat on a stool tossing a red ball between hands, "I just keeping hearing a voice."

"They have medication for that," Kurt said as marked on the fabric. "You probably already met him anyway."

"Is it one of those things everyone is everything?"

"No, he gets a kick out of it. Go to the Lima Bean or something and take a look a nerds with computers, chances are he might be one of them."

Sam cocked his head.

"That was a joke."

"You weren't joking."

Kurt found himself smiling and felt even more irritated by it than he should.

"No," Kurt tossed him the costume, "try it on."