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- “You said your suit could change colors, right?”
- “Yeah.”
- “Then change them to something that’s not an obvious Legion hand-me-down.” Calamity gestures up and down at my suit. “You go in there looking the way you do right now, and laughter is about the best thing you can hope for.” The Flying Dutchman, Calamity has explained, is a bar for graycapes, nonpartisans, and associated hangers-on. Occasionally, the lighter shades of blackcapes show up, and plenty of baseline muscle looking to get hired on for “odd jobs” hang around the place, too. Whitecapes aren’t exactly unwelcome, except they’re totally unwelcome.
- “Uh, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
- Calamity steps up close to me. “Do you want to catch Utopia or not?”
- “Yes.”
- “Then pick some goddamn colors.”
- “Hold on,” I say as I fumble my cell phone out of the little pouch on my belt line. A few moments later I’ve got it plugged into my suit and I’m booting up the color-changing app. To make it easy, I just select the whole garment and stab at one of the preselected colors, a dark green. A new blister pops up on my wrist, and I push it down. The gray camouflage melts and swirls and becomes a solid emerald across my entire body.
- “Good enough,” says Calamity. “Come on.”
- - Dreadnought, Chapter 19
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