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Chapter 7: Outfits

"What do you think?"

"It's riding up my butt." Josh stood on a pedestal in a changing room tucked within the Watchtower's Meta Wing. The Flash was rubbing his chin, looking up at his new trainee. Josh was wearing an all-red wrestler's unitard with thick gloves and his fire-proof boots. His head was covered by a massive, tinted visor that stretched from his hairline to his neck. "Can I get something a little baggier? With a little more protection?"

"You sure? You look pretty badass." Josh glared at the Flash who was grinning like an idiot. Josh sighed and struggled to get of his helmet. With a solid yank, he pulled it off, several hairs coming painfully with it.

"I can't move my neck with this thing," he complained.

Flash laughed aloud. "Fine," he conceded, "Let's try a Fourth World style set." He pressed a few buttons on the consol in front of him and a folded outfit fell down a chute coming out of the wall. Flash left and Josh changed quickly. "What do you think?" called Flash from beyond the door. Josh walked out in the full set. He was partially covered by flexible but sturdy dark blue armor. He did a little shadow boxing and threw a few kicks to test out his mobility.

"It feels good. How does it look?"

"Like an amateur," said Flash dryly, "Seriously? No spiked shoulders or fistigons?"

Josh shrugged. "They weigh me down. Besides, your outfit is fairly conservative. Why should I be any flashier?"

"I need to be streamlined," explained Flash, "I can't just toss fire at my opponents."

"So you're saying my fire powers are more important than my super speed?"

Flash shrugged. "All I'm saying is that I'm a trained fighter who's been taught to make the most of my powers, and you're still a rookie who relies on fire and fists. Until you get a better handle on your powers, you want something that gives you maximum protection and utilizes you fire the best."

Josh thought a minute. "And you think this won't do that?"

Flash grunted. "It's fine, just a little plain for my tastes."

"Well I still need something to cover my face."

"Good point. Mask or helmet?"

Josh rubbed his sore neck. "Mask please." Flash played with the consol a bit and a domino mask fell down the chute. "Its got special lenses," he said as he handed it to Josh, "Batman came up with them. Night vision, limited x-ray vision, telescopic, infrared, and scanner."

Josh examined it for a moment before pressing it to his face. It had a soft adhesive that kept it in place. For a moment, he saw nothing, but then the lenses flashed and he blinked as a heads-up display activated, revealing the world around him. "Cool," he whispered.

Flash grinned and handed him a small earpiece. "Here's your controller. It doubles as a communicator."

Josh pushed it snuggly into his ear. "Infrared," he said experimentally. Immediately, his vision shuttered and became various shades of purple, with a large red and orange blot where Flash stood. "Um, regular," said Josh. His vision returned to normal.

"So, you ready for the grand tour?"

"I think so. This whole thing is still pretty overwhelming."

Flash wrapped his arm around Josh and led him out of the changing rooms. "Don't worry; I'll try not to blow your mind too much."

. . .

Ariel looked at herself in the mirror. She was in her underwear, the outfit she was supposed to put on strewn about her on the carpeted floor. Her eyes traveled up her body, following the maze of scars that latticed her skin from her feet to her arms. She rubbed her wrists and sighed. Her hallucination of Raven had told her that superheroes had seen worse than her scars, but she wondered if they knew where the came from. Not all of them were from stress relieving or suicide attempts.

There was a banging on the door. "Everything okay in there, kid? You've been changing for, like, ten minutes." Ariel cringed. She hadn't the courage to confront Raven in person, so she had asked Power Girl for help picking a costume. But she didn't want the hero in the changing room with her; there would be too much explaining to do.

"Y-yeah," Ariel stuttered, "I'll be right out." She quickly slid into the costume Power Girl had picked out for her. It was pink, something she knew she would immediately change, and was comprised of heavy chain mail tunic with a silk undershirt and a silk spike going up the middle. Beneath her leather belt was a light skirt and Kevlar-reinforced leggings. She quickly made sure everything was on right and walked out of the changing room.

Power Girl was waiting for her. She gave a low whistle. "Looks good on you. How does it feel?"

Ariel rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "The shirt is a little heavy."

"Yeah?" Power Girl grinned, "Try flying." Ariel slowly lifted a few feet of the ground and her eyes widened in amazement as her tunic suddenly felt lighter than air. "Your flying is actually a field of gravity desensitization," explained Power Girl as Ariel dropped back down, "You fly, everything touching you flies with you. Besides," she continued, "Your powers aren't physical, so you need to build up some muscle. Heavy clothes are neat little tricks to do that."

"Okay," said Ariel, "Do I need a mask?"

Power Girl's excited grin shrank to a soft, happy smile. "Actually, I have a few gifts for you." She reached behind her and pulled out a plastic bag. From its depths, she took a black, hooded robe. "Raven wanted you to have this. She had a few spare to get rid of." Ariel accepted the cloak with a gulp and swung it around herself. As soon as she closed the clasp around her neck and pulled up the hood, she felt a strange comfort flow through her. She felt like the cloak would keep her safe and hide her secrets. She sighed deeply as she felt the tension of the last week vanish in her cloak. "Hmm," grimaced Power Girl, "Clashes, but that can be fixed. You like it?"

"Yeah," said Ariel, "What is it made of? It feels like velvet, but velvet never felt this good."

"It's some kind of magic cloth," said Power Girl with a wave of her hand, "I don't know a lot about magic." Ariel turned to the mirror and saw that the hood cast a deep shadow over her face, hiding her from the world. "Here," she turned back to Power Girl. She was holding out a small, yellow, cross-shaped chip.

Ariel took the chip and examined it. "What is it?"

"The scientists are calling them Exobits," said Power Girl, "They're broken down from Exobytes. We're still not entirely sure what they do, but our studies have shown that they stabilize the Exobytes that are already in your system."

Ariel stared at it. "So what do I do, eat it?"

Power Girl grimaced. "Just pretend it's an Advil and it'll go down easier." Ariel sighed and took a deep breath. She put the cold metal in her mouth and swallowed. It scraped her throat slightly on the way down and she gagged, but it was over in less than a second.

"So that's it?" she said, whipping her mouth.

"Once a month," said Power Girl with a sympathetic smile.

Ariel sighed. "Can I get this in black?" she asked, motioning to her uniform.

"If you want. I wouldn't advise it, though."

"Why not?"

"This isn't cotton, girl, it doesn't breathe. I'd get something lighter, grey or blue maybe."

Ariel looked at herself in the mirror and pictured herself in a white outfit with the deep blue robe. She gave a soft smile and turned to Power Girl. "Thanks for your help, Power Girl."

"No problem, always an honor to help initiate a new hero," she paused, "That being said, you should talk to someone else about mentoring you."

Ariel looked at the ground. "I know."

"You really should talk to Raven," said Power Girl, "I don't know what beef you have with her, but your powers aren't something to take lightly. You need to learn to control them properly and Raven's the best person to help you."

Ariel didn't lift her head as Power Girl rested a hand on her shoulder. She couldn't tell her. She couldn't tell anybody.

. . .

Hundreds of feet above Gotham City, a black plane flew silently just above the clouds. When it reached a certain spot, a tall man in a black ski mask opened the door. Wind rushed by and Devon gulped as he peered out. He turned to the masked man. "I'm scared!" The man gave him a smile that could have been reassuring or sadistic; it was hard to tell with the ski mask. The man gently pushed Devon forwards towards the door.

Devon was wearing a black and green padded jumpsuit. He had a short cape that could expand into gliding wings. His arms and legs were covered by thick gauntlets and boots with little buttons on them. Lew had told him not to touch any of them until he was told to. His head was covered by a thick helmet and the top half of his face was protected by a visor. On his left breastplate, a small white bird was painted.

"Go on," whispered the man in his ear, "Just like you've been trained." Devon gulped. For the last week, Lex had been teaching him to use his powers in the white rooms. He had taught Devon how the police and super heroes were controlled by bad people who wanted to rule the world. Lex and his friends were trying to stop them, and Devon could help them.

Devon closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was going to save the world. With a half-scared, half-courageous battle roar, Devon took a flying leap out of the plane. For a few moments, the wind blew past him as he hurdled towards the earth. It would have stung his eyes if not for his mask. After a few seconds, Devon reached behind him and grabbed his cape. Immediately, the cape stretched out to form a glider and his descent slowed down with a jerk. Devon gulped. It was just like the simulations, he told himself. Gently, he began to drift down towards his target area, Amusement Mile. His father had taken him to the park a few times, but a night, it was much scarier. The bad policemen were fighting with the nice clowns. Devon folded his cape and dropped, landing in a crouch on the top of the cloth tent in the center of the park. Around him, police cars and barrels were scattered, cover for the GCPD and clowns engaged in firefights.

His visor lit up in a heads up display and Devon blinked in surprise, this hadn't been part of the simulation exercises. In the top left corner appeared an image of a grinning clown. "Hello!" he greeted Devon enthusiastically, "You must be the little helper ole' Lex sent over! I'm your good old Uncle J! You ready to have some fun, little songbird?" Devon nodded slowly, unsure if the nice clown could see him. "Alrighty then!" said the clown, "If you look around, you should see some green barrels leaking some gas. See them?" Devon turned his head and saw a few of the barrels in question. "Take those barrels and put them next to the tent's vent system. That'll flush out the little piggies in my hideout! Oh, and be careful not to breathe in the gas, very toxic you know." The image disappeared. Devon slid off the tent and landed with a grunt on the ground. He slowly crept forward, making sure that there weren't any police around. Taking a deep breath, he ran forward and grabbed one of the barrels. He grunted as he lifted it over his head. It must have weighed more than anything in the world! He staggered forwards, making sure to keep his mouth shut, and tossed it towards the fans sticking out of the tent.

The image of the clown reappeared in his visor. "Good job, kiddo!" exclaimed the clown, "Now, the Boy Blunder has the formula for my Joker Gas in my hideout. I need you to get in there and take it back! Oh, and save my beloved Harley too, of course." The clown rolled his eyes. "There's a box of gas masks near the roller coaster, get over there and pick one up and I'll give you the password to get into my clubhouse!"

"Do you have candy?" asked Devon nervously.

"What's that laddie?"

"The last time my daddy brought me here, the clowns gave out candy."

The clown's grin grew wider. "Oh, we have candy coming out of our ears! Tell you what, you take care of Bird Boy and I'll send Lex a whole bag of goodies to give to you!" Devon grinned and looked around for the roller coaster.

He ran forward, dodging behind cover. But he just wasn't fast enough. "Hey!" shouted a police officer, "There's one over here!" A gunshot went over Devon's head and he panicked. He screamed, his throat vibrating harshly as the policeman was sent flying.

"It's a super villain!"

"Bring him down!" More gunshots slammed into the pavement around Devon as he took a running slide behind a flaming police car. He glanced over his cover and gulped as he saw a line of policemen between him and the massive roller coaster. He took a deep breath and vaulted over the car. Bullets whizzed around him, but they weren't as fast as his voice. His scream shattered the windows of the car behind him and rattled the steel and wood bars of the roller coaster. With screams of terror, the policemen were tossed like rag dolls through the air. Before his sonic blast was even through, Devon ran forward into a break in their ranks. He grabbed the legs of the coaster and quickly scrambled up as Lex had taught him to do. He flipped onto the tracks and slid down the steep climb.

At the bottom of the climb, a clown was holding a cop by the lapel as he beat down on him. "Thanks kid!" said the clown in a shrill voice, "You're a big help!"

"You're welcome!" laughed Devon.

The police officer looked over with two black eyes. "What? A kid?" The clown shut him up by continuing his assault. Devon looked away and his eyes fell on a wooden crate in the loading station of the coaster. He dashed over and lifted the heavy cover. Inside were dozens of black, adjustable gas masks. Devon grabbed one and put it too his face. The clown dropped the police officer and walked over to help him put it on.

When the mask was secured over his mouth and nose, the clown rubbed his pasty white chin thoughtfully. "With your mouth covered like that, your powers won't work," he pointed out. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a black tube. With a flick of his wrist, the tube extended into a baton. The clown handed it to Devon. "Here, take this."

Devon nodded. "Thanks!"

"Now go save Harley, kid! We'll keep the coppers out of your way!" Devon saluted and ran down the ramp of the ride, his baton at the ready.

. . .

In another part of Gotham, a figure in white darted across the Gotham General Hospital rooftop. The figure leapt off the roof and shot a cable to the next rooftop, drawing himself up in the process. From his baggy sleeve flashed a small metal box with a red button on it. The figure landed on the rooftop with a grunt and stood up. He walked calmly away, pushing the red button without turning back. Behind him, the hospital erupted into flames. He ignored the screams of terror and pain as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Finally, when he was a good ten or twelve blocks away, he turned back to observe his art. "Beautiful," he said to himself with a smile as the sounds of chaos filled the air, "Absolutely beautiful." In the distance, the letters A-N-A-R-K-Y burned against the hospital. "Beautiful anarchy."

. . .

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