[center][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1127377184558952498/1183356604645650512/1946995-scm6.jpg?ex=658809b8&is=657594b8&hm=d614638372cd3a4d9bb4125d1d9175a29366251bf3948c0dd96b85744f184cc6&[/img][/center] [center][h2][b][color=teal]S[/color][color=yellow]H[/color][color=purple]A[/color][color=orange]N[/color][color=green]E[/color][color=skyblue], [/color][color=goldenrod]T[/color][color=fuchsia]H[/color][color=coral]E [/color][color=chartreuse]C[/color][color=cyan]H[/color][color=sandybrown]A[/color][color=teal]N[/color][color=yellow]G[/color][color=purple]I[/color][color=orange]N[/color][color=green]G [/color][color=skyblue]M[/color][color=goldenrod]A[/color][color=fuchsia]N[/color][/b][/h2][/center] [hr] Shane gradually unpacked his delicates into the drawers of the Metro Tower dorm which would be his new home until... ...well, let's be honest, until they get sick of him and fling him out to the street. Should it come to that, he suspected he'd be the delicate in question. A fancy coat probably not enough to hold back the will of a Kryptonian, a master of magic, a speedster, or most any of the types who called these four walls home. Power always has degrees, and Shane had never felt particularly powerful. No matter what the chick in fishnets had said. It was a Hell of a fancy coat, mind. Been enough to help him lay out a small crowd of people back at 'Metropofest: The Sounds of Tomorrow'. Some mouthy guy had told him to take it off, saying it was giving people headaches. He'd suggested he could probably do something better, like holding back his girl's hair since she was puking up a forty and a half's worth on the grass. It turns out she hadn't drunk anything at all. And the guy apparently didn't care for the insinuation. Because violence came quick and fast. A few minutes later and the scuffle had turned into something closer resembling a riot and there were about fifty to sixty people on the ground in varying degrees of distress. In a very public place. You know, the kind of thing which brings about attention. Attention from the types who wear their delicates on the outside... Only it wasn't that bunch who turned up. [hr] [color=yellow]"Are you really sure about that one?"[/color] Doctor Mid-Nite brought up a hologram of Shane, which rotated, and brought up various details from a short Bio on the display screen, including the outline of a hand. [b]"Not completely. No."[/b] Zatanna replied, not instilling Mid-Nite with a great deal of confidence. [b]"But my team is right. There's no better place for him."[/b] [color=yellow]"Had some issues getting into the building. Security went glitchy. Struggled to recognise his hand print."[/color] [b]"Hmm."[/b] Zatanna replied in an unsurprised murmur. [b]"I suspect that just means the security system's working properly."[/b] Doctor Mid-Nite's brow raised behind her mask, bringing out further explanation from the Mistress of Magic. [b]"That coat he wears. It contorts reality. It's not that the hand-print in the data-file is wrong. He's in flux. It's changing. I'm not surprised that it's taking a few attempts to recognise him."[/b] [color=yellow]"Reality? That's-- That sounds incredibly dangerous. Are you sure we can trust him with it?"[/color] [b]"Incredibly dangerous. So much so, I wouldn't really feel completely comfortable no matter who was wearing it. But there's two things which make me feel better about the fact that he's the one who has it."[/b] [color=yellow]"What's that?"[/color] [b]"He [u]REALLY[/u] doesn't want to have it. But he has enough sense that he doesn't trust anybody else with it either."[/b] Knowing her relief would soon be here, Mid-Nite closed the file. The rotating hologram and Bio disappeared from the displays. [hr] Shane looked in his wardrobe, at the numerous coats and jackets he'd brought over thoughtlessly, only to now realise how superfluous they now were. An obsolete wardrobe. Replaced by a single purpose M-Vest. A coat for all seasons. His friends were gone. Some he hadn't even had the opportunity to piss away with his behaviour and general personality yet. Or rather he was gone. They were still there, living the lives they'd built for theselves. The lives he'd drifted in and out of. Mooching, shooting the shit and playing his guest star cameo role. To silent outside applause. Would they miss him? Would they notice? Dragged away to this new life of his own he'd become 'one of those people'. The ones who get out. Who study abroad. Who look to a new career, a new purpose. Who miss the every day events, the minutiae, the gossip, the breath of the town you grew up in. He was one of the ones who'd have to hear the stories in passing now. Not the one who'd tell as he bumped into someone familiar. Because this place was anything but familiar. He was surrounded by driven people, often absorbed in their own worlds. Most didn't have time for him. And this was where he was expected to live now. He closed the wardrobe and its past of choice that he'd left behind. It was depressing to think about. He sighed deeply and then copped a breathful of some strange scent. Did they--? Did they have some kind of air fresheners in the dorm rooms? He breathed in more, trying to get a sense of what it was, and where it could have been coming from. *Sniff, sniff* He followed his nose like a dog, before it led him to an overhead vent, he was considering what it could mean as his M-Vest began to throb and pulsate. Suddenly, a tinny voice echoed through Metro Tower's in-house intercom system. [b]"[color=ed1c24]This is Red Tornado speaking. I strongly suspect that our base of operations has been struck by some type of airborne poison.[/color]"[/b] Suddenly the M-Vest regurgitated a stream of bones. Of flowers. Of pencil shavings and pinky toenails. Shane's breathing, his heartrate rapidly accelerated. His hands came to the sides of his face. [b]"[color=ed1c24]However there is a small chance the instance of gaseous fumes is coincidental, so I do not feel confident declaring it for certain.[/color]"[/b] He turned and looked around his room, suddenly a set of books on his desktop became a dozen eggs, before the eggs themselves erupted, yolk bursting over everything. His top drawer handle became a video game controller. Then a crying baby. Then he yelped as its screams were silenced as it became a shoe. Was-- was the baby alive? Had he created life and then ended it just as fleetingly? Could he do that? What did it mean? What did any of this mea--? Then his door burst open, and darkness exploded, and from deep within the darkness a woman emerged… who he scarcely had time to recognise before she turned into a lamp. And that's when Shane started screaming. [b]"[color=ed1c24]Regardless, please attempt to find a safe place to avoid further contact with potential toxins. pLease cHecK in oN thE moRe juNioR meMbeRrs anD ensUre thEIr saFeTy.[/color]"[/b] He threw himself behind the door and tried to hold it closed. To hold back the deluge of the most powerful people on earth, for their own safety. From him. What was it the chick in tights had said the coat had been called before? [color=teal]"The Madness vest--?"[/color] He tried to take the garment off, but his arms were too long or the sleeves were too tight. Ridiculously too long. Six feet before the elbow. He couldn't get it off. And as he tried another slipped through. A man with a golden shield who he'd briefly seen by the cafeteria, but never had a chance to learn his name, rushed in before he turned into a potted plant. He threw himself at the door again. He started crying and his hands shook. [b]"[color=ed1c24]sHaNe. pLeaSe heLp sHaNe. shOw nO reGaRd fOr youR oWn saFeTy aNd shOw thE wORld whAt lEagueRs aRe mAde oF. dIe bRaveLY aS aLl heROes doo-oo.[/color]"[/b] Shane lay on the floor in the foetal position screaming and rocking, the world surrounding him a tapestry made from the rapidly fraying threads of his own sanity...