“Absolutely not,” George said, swatting the leggings from his hand. “I will not let you leave the store with something the color of vomit.”

Kira made a face of disgust, narrowing her pale blue eyes. “Not even I can make an argument for those.”

Gabe sighed, re-hanging the leggings before George could find new and exciting ways to insult his fashion sense. “Look, the scenario starts tomorrow. I need to pick something out, and quickly. This is why I wear hoodies.”

They’d only had about a week to prepare for the scenario, and details were sparse. Gabe knew exactly three things:

1. They needed something they could comfortably use their attribute in.

2. They needed their passports.

3. The scenario would take three days, so be prepared to stay and don’t expect much sleep.

George tossed a heap of neutral and pastel spandex into the cart. “You would have something if you’d listened to me and your family and scheduled the fittings. But now you’re scrambling, like always, because you’ve never once been able to keep your commitments straight.”

“I can keep my commitments straight,” Gabe insisted, grabbing a pull-over from a rack and checking it for pockets. “For instance: I am committed to not visiting a tailor.”

Kira selected a pair of attractive track pants, with a nice fit and vertical stripes on the seams. “What about these? They seem warm, and they’ll make you look taller!”

Gabe clutched his chest. “Low blow, fangirl, low blow.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being short!” Kira insisted. “Which you are. Short, that is. Sorry.”

Gabe steered their cart to the fitting rooms. There were a handful, mostly occupied by folks fitting for low-level attributes and exercise gear. Normally he’d need to worry about fabric selection, armoring, and accommodation for his attribute. But there wasn’t a lot to be done in terms of armor when you were impervious to…well, everything, and superior strength didn’t really require anything special from a fabric.

So he planned to keep it simple.

Theoretically.

Still, it took a few cycles to get it right. The pastels made him look like a poltergeist, and the neutrals made him look like he was heading out for a day of paper-pushing in the office. Most of Gabe’s own selections were vetoed for being too ugly, too patterned, or “too 80s.” Finally, after they’d nearly emptied their entire cart into the “returns” bin, they found something acceptable.

They were the pants Kira had picked out: form-fitting and stretchy, with long red stripes that ran the length of the leg. He matched it with a comfortable red shirt, sturdy black boots with thick soles, and a pair of black gloves to help with his grip.

“You already have everything?” He asked the two of them, when they immediately bee-lined for the checkout with his outfit. George rolled her eyes.

“Of course I do, Gabriel, we start tomorrow.” 

George scrolled through her phone, selecting a photo from her gallery and turning her screen to face him. 

George’s attribute let her grow, move and manipulate plant life. It had its own constraints, but the big one was her need for good grip strength to climb, manipulate her body, and keep her balance. Her suit had it all in spades: retractable cleats she could kick the back of her shoe to activate, a decidedly better pair of gloves, and lightweight padding anywhere she was vulnerable to attack.

“Oh,” Gabriel said, just a touch defeated. “That’s really nice.”

“It is,” George said, rolling her eyes. She gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. “So get going on getting a professional suit done, Gabs. It will really help.”

Kira’s suit was also well-equipped, with goggles that enhanced distance vision (so she could make more accurate copies) and a special headset connected to George so they could coordinate. Gabe decided he was an idiot and booked an appointment while they stood in line, shooting a text off to August about purchasing coordinated headsets. 

>> I already bought them. I’ll have them programmed for tomorrow.

Gabe let out a little laugh, showing the text to George and Kira.

The relief flooded through him quite suddenly. Was this what it felt like, to constantly have someone watching his back? To not have his weaknesses rubbed in by family and strangers alike, grim disappointment disguised as tired fondness? 

August had it covered.

August always had it covered.

Gabe smiled.