"Oh, uh, Hope Thomas. And, uh, Phantasm," came the young woman's muffled, distorted reply. 

She'd bounced ideas back and forth between Deidre and Lynn all week and that's the best she thought they came up with. Although Lynn said 'Phantasma', but Hope had thought that sounded too feminine, like someone would expect her to run around in a skin-tight cat suit or something stupid like that. Hope's super heroine uniform was... actually pretty ghetto. She couldn't afford anything slick and high-tech like some of her blue-blooded competition and had to get an advance of pay to get what she [i]did[/i] manage to scrape together... but it had a certain look to it. The soon-to-be super heroine was sporting a black armored vest with a high collar and green accents a la the Sidewinder motorcycle company, with shoulder, elbow, and knee pads for added protection. It wasn't much, but it'd protect her from getting thrown around and it'd probably stop a knife. Probably. Around her waist was a military belt from police surplus with pouches and holsters for different things, and her black hiking pants offered a few more pockets along with being breathable and sturdy, with a simple cloth green tee to follow with the black/green motif. Neon green TruSport running shoes were strapped on her feet for mobility and she kept MMA gloves on her hands, well, more for a look than anything practical but they'd probably serve a purpose at some point.

The standout feature of her patched-together uniform was the mask that she wore. It was a functional gas mask with a green reflective anti-fog eyepiece with an installed vocal modulator that scrambled Hope's voice. Most of the time it was inert and didn't impede breathing too much, but if she so chose she could spin one of its dials and filter the air for a couple of hours. Pretty useful when working with tear gas, she thought she'd need it at least once. She also thought it'd look pretty badass. All in all she looked more the part of a villain than a hero, but Hope didn't really care about that so long as the police didn't shoot her on accident.

The young woman was fairly nervous, choosing to cross her arms and lean her body on the counter toward the group behind her. Everyone looked so... professional? Was that a good word? Whatever the case, Hope didn't look like she belonged there with her pieced-together costume. One guy had a jetpack for cryin' out loud! A freakin' jetpack! The most high-tech thing she had was a stun gun. She'd tried to tell herself that grit and motivation would be enough, but now she was beginning to doubt that a little. If only a little. Hope had been boasting about it for months now, how she'd take the test and set records and get her name in the evening news. It was only just before her time to shine that her nerves got the better of her, and she began to tap her foot impatiently. Patience was never her strong suit anyway.