anemoi | Hazmat.

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Hazmat.

[Video, to JLS members]

[The camera wobbles as he lifts it up and Gordon fidgets a little, glancing over his shoulder. Behind him is a dingy background of tubing and concrete, with a pair of crates that are branded LAB STORAGE in big stencil letters. A strange greenish glow illuminates the side of his face, and for some reason he looks a little... overwhelmed.]

Booster? Guys? I... I've got a favor to ask you. You don't happen to have, uh... any sort of proving grounds, or a simulation chamber or something over at JLS headquarters that you use for testing equipment or training, do you? If you do... 's there a chance I can borrow it for a few hours?

[Action, después de video call.]

[Those of you on your daily goings-on may notice a strange sight across the street from Justice League HQ. A Lab-branded van pulls in and as you watch a familiar young scientist hops out of the passenger side and hauls what looks like a large metal steamer-trunk out of the back, grunting with the effort. He then proceeds to lug the thing across the street towards the HQ, showcasing a spectacular mediocrity of muscle strength while doing so.]

Hnnngh, jeezus... should've just WORN the damn thing...

[Wouldn't you just love to know what the hell he's up to?]

[EDIT: Bonus Action, Inside JLS Headquarters.]

Alright. [Beyond the front offices, Gordon stretches and opens the case, extracting a heavy drape of armored plate and thick gray carbon fabric. He eyes it oddly and gives Booster an odd smirk.]

I'd say thanks for the chance to do this, but considering I pretty much came here to get the crap beat out of me that'd seem kind of stupid.

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Shen was just out for a walk when he sees this going on. He stops. Tilts his head in a manner only birds are really capable of. Quirks one eyebrow.

"D'you... need help with that?" he finally asks after watching Gordon struggle with the thing for nearly a full minute.

Uh, no, we don't have anything like that. Why, you remember something interesting?

"No, no I've got it. Sides, I don't want you to get your feathers dirty." The playful jibe is punctuated with effort as he picks up a corner and clumsily drags it over a curb.

It's not something I remember, but... it turns out the Lab team kept something of mine. For repairs, and probably to take advantage n' study the hell out of the tech, because I was unconscious and therefore unable to claim it when they found me.

[That tone is a smoldering cannon, and there's a sense that the explosive fallout of THAT projectile has already irradiated his withholding co-workers. He takes a second to get it under control, pinching the bridge of his nose.]

Just... here. Take a look.

[The camera whirls, and the source of the green glow is revealed. In a cobbled-together capsule of melded parts is a makeshift charging capsule surrounded my monitors, with a peculiar orange-and-grey suit inside.]

I'm told this is some kind of hazard protection suit, and that I showed up wearing it, but I don't remember anything about this.

So you want to know how tough it is? Yeah, we might be able to help with that. Bring it on over, we'll have Tiger or Papillon punch you around a bit, see how it holds up. Not the most high-tech solution, but it beats taking it out untested.

[He winces internally at the thought of being a glorified punching bag. But ignoble as it sounds, it's a probably the safest option: nonlethal, controlled. He'd forego the whole damn thing and just run some stress tests in the Labs but the suit doesn't even seem to power on without someone inside it.]

...all right. Sure. I'll be there in a few hours.

Lookin' forward to it.

[Does he... actually mean that? Or did he just say it without thinking? It is a mystery.]

Hey, we offer only the highest quality crap-beatings here at Justice League Sirocco, you're lucky we're not charging you. Right, Papillon?

Right you are, Booster!

There's no beating finer than one fueled by a man's sense of justice and passion!

[Gordon glances up at Papillon with a raised eyebrow.]

...Passion. Riiiight. I'm going to go and... put this suit on now. Yeah.

[It takes him a little longer than he'd figured, but he walks out heralded by beep and a tinny electronic voice as the suit powers up. If either man is looking they'll see the odd symbol on the front emits a dull internal glow, barely visible except in shadow.]

Welcome to the H.E.V. mark IV protective system for use in hazardous environment conditions. High-impact reactive armor activated.

Great, let's get this--

Speed and strength augmentations online. Atmospheric contaminant sensors activated. Automatic medical systems engaged. Defensive weapon selection system activated. Munition level monitoring activated. Communications interface online. Biosignature identified. Have a very safe day.

What the hell? Munitions monitoring? Weapons selection? What... just what kind of protective suit IS this?

What are you, some kind of robot?

Brace yourself!

[That's all the warning he gets before Joachim hauls off and cheerfully decks him.]

Whoa hold o--OOFH!

[The punch to his stomach is solid, but... so is the suit. The force spreads out and with a subliminal dim glow of power routing below the surface, superconductor plates align retroactively to absorb the impact. He's knocked back a few centimeters but totally unharmed. He blinks in a amazement, looks down, and then back up with a small smile and a head-shake.]

...well I'll be damned. It worked!

[...That's pretty neat!]

You're not hurt at all?

...Should I try it again?

...

[He's right. He isn't hurt at all.]

Hah, what the hell? Why not?

Why not indeed!

[This time, Joachim spins and high-kicks him full force in the chest.]

This time he's nearly knocked against the wall. But as he straightens, he actually huffs a breathless laugh.

"Ahahahow... that was a hit... But, but this is amazing! I'm practically invincible!"

Power at seventy-five percent.

[He blinks and regards the readout on his left arm.] What? Huh... almost invincible anyway. I guess every time this thing activates it drains the power.

"Oh, well, in that case, I'll just watch you struggle."

He leans against the wall just as casual as can be and smiiiiiiiiiiles.

[Smarmy bird... He makes a show of hefting the thing and makes it all of three steps before he nearly drops the thing on his foot.]

...Okay, okay, I guess I could use some help.

He really doesn't look as though he should even be offering. Birds aren't known for their muscle power. However, he saunters over and works a foot under the other end of the thing, lifting it easily to a height where he can get his wings under it.

Huh. Stronger'n he looks.

"So, where's it going?"

Just... inside here. [He points with a temporarily freed hand, staring, then starts to move his end of the box to lead.] You're pretty damn strong for a bird.

"... Birds aren't usually very strong?"

As puzzled as he may be by that statement, he follows Gordon with the other end of the box with relative ease.

"Perhaps it's the kung fu training," he muses.

"From what little I remember back home, birds aren't very large either. Or... know kung fu, so it's probably just a case of observer's bias." He admits.

"Ah. Hm. Or perhaps birds were larger in the fifth century."

... No, he's not going to let that go.

Ugh, not this again.

"I'm pretty sure they weren't, Shen."

"How can you be certain? D'you have a doctorate in avian history?"

Aaaand he's just having fun with it, now.

Huh... maybe he's getting over it like he said he was...

"Nah, I'm not exactly a bird-brain. I only remember humans in the history I learned, though. We'd gone over this before." He adds with a gesture with a temporarily freed hand. "If being from another time bothers you so much, then why is it you can handle the idea of cars and televisions and computers, anyway? You seem to manage those well enough."

They manage to get the thing to its destination and set it down. If Shen hears the pun he disregards it. Instead, he looks thoughtful.

"I woke up in that laboratory surrounded almost entirely by unfamiliar things and went on into the city still surrounded by unfamiliar things," he muses. "If I allowed all of the things I didn't understand to bother me, I'd throw everything but the furniture out of my home and never leave it. I wouldn't last very long if I did that."

"Maybe the clean slate actually worked out in your favor." He grunts, stretching a little. "Or at least kept you from becoming a crazy recluse."

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Hazmat.

[action whatnow? Speak English.]

[video]

[YOUR LANGUAGE IS SILLY!]

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[action 2]

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[BAR BAR BAR BAR!]

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