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Tommy sits on the floor, his blanket loosely wrapped around his torso. He holds a black bodysuit in his hands, attaching the tiny sleeves for mechanical parts to slot in and out of easily. He tugs on the thread, reaching for his scissors. Instead of finding them on the ground, Pulverize sets the handle in Tommy's awaiting palm. Pulverize doesn't look up from the machinery he was working on, so Tommy doesn't look up from the bodysuit. Neither of them say a word, but there is an unspoken gratitude lingering in the air that has been there since Pulverize dragged them both down on the ground to finally finish his costume. Tommy was grumpy about the seating arrangement, but he is no longer paying much attention to it, to the detriment of his body in the future.

"Done!" Pulverize cheers, reaching his hands so high above his head that he falls backwards onto his back. The machine he was working on lands on his stomach. Pulverize makes an odd noise as he rolls over to his side. The machine makes a heavy noise as it thuds on the wooden floorboards. Tommy snickers under his breath. Pulverize glares up at Tommy, wrapping both of his hands over his stomach. "Shut the fuck up, man."

"I didn't say anything," Tommy factually states, raising an eyebrow at Pulverize as he looks at the vigilante from the corner of his eye. Pulverize sticks his tongue out. Tommy laughs again, and Pulverize wears an amused smile. Tommy tosses the bodysuit at Pulverize's head. "Here, go put this on."

"Let's go!" Pulverize cheers excitedly. He quickly rises to his feet. He grabs the bodysuit along with the other machines he brought along. They stack in his arms, making it nearly impossible for Pulverize to see in front of him. Pulverize rushes headfirst towards the bathroom. Tommy scrambles to his feet, pushing Pulverize out of the way of the doorframe and into the bathroom proper. He sees Pulverize's smile for a second before the stack of machines cover it again. Pulverize uses his foot to close the door, and Tommy reaches forward to close it all the way. Tommy winces when he hears half a dozen machines drop onto the floor of the bathroom. Tommy lifts a hand to his head, running it down the side of his face as he takes a step away from the bathroom.

Tommy listens to the commotion. When the second floor of the boutique grows strangely quiet, Tommy risks glancing at the bathroom worriedly. His anxiety is cast away like an unwanted blanket as the bathroom door slams open. Tommy winces again at the noise. Pulverize's confident pose transforms in an instant as he rushes to grab onto the door. He closes it far more gently. Pulverize appraises the wall that the door hit. When he doesn't find anything in particular, he turns around, resuming the confident position.

The base of the outfit is a black bodysuit stretching down to the ankles and wrists. Braces made from a dark gray metal are attached to the bodysuit that stretch along the arms and the shoulders, wrapping around the upper chest. This compliments the braces around the legs made from the same material that additional wrap around his feet in stylized metal boots. While sleek in design, these braces are visually stunning because of the thick tubes interweaving through the design, pumping a toxic green liquid throughout the outfit from the backpack-like structure hanging off Pulverize's back. An odd belt-like structure made from metal wraps around the torso and hips, much thicker than a regular belt with a green and white toxicity symbol glowing in the centerpiece. Pulverize's mask is entirely formed by a gas mask that hangs over the bottom half of his face, connected to goggles with tinted green glass. His fingerless gloves have a golden ring in his palm, fused almost directly with the fabric. Although it doesn't quite match, Pulverize has two horns shooting out of his hair that glow a stunning blue color made from one of the rarest flames on the island: soulfire.

Tommy walks around Pulverize's body. He pulls at the fabric, testing its durability. The material gives a little, but it remains solid and firm for the most part. When Tommy finishes a complete rotation, he stands right in front of Pulverize. He looks into Pulverize's green-tinted eyes. They are silent for one long moment, assessing each other and getting a feel for the suit. The only noises are the frankly disturbing whirring noise coming from the gas mask that follows the beat of Pulverize's heart and the radio blaring some song that Tommy is pretty sure isn't English. Tommy feels the heartbeat quicken, and a smile spreads across his face. Tommy lifts his hand up just as Pulverize is doing the same. Without another word, they high-five each other.

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