Footsteps padded across a rooftop's tarry surface. Breathing was rapid, adrenaline pushing hard, sweat affixing the mask to his face. The edge was coming closer. So close. TOO CLOSE! The man fell short, falling and catching himself on the edge of the roof, the dizzying heights between the two buildings making his stomach quiver.

--Two days earlier--

The multipierced man strung a measure of tape along Garrett's inseam. " Yeah, those Ren Faire guys can be d**** for sure. I would have just made up some story about the Marquis De Sade. They love that bit." The older man stood up and took a measurement across Garrett's chest. " Don't slouch, please." Garrett stood up straight, looking beyond the freakish tailor into the full length mirror. Even in the quasi darkness of the shop, he could see himself clearly.

It had been a long time coming. He wondered what might have happened if he had gone through with this the first time. Would it have changed anything? Time travel and alternate universes shook their respective heads, though they were grinning all the while. The other man stood back, his painted pinkie nail under his chin. " So let me get this straight. Well, ..yeah, anyway, you do want it to hang loose? You are really going to lose some sensation if I do that.' Garrett chuckled at the sentiment. " Sensation, Sir, is something I will always have at my disposal. I have to be able to fight in it."

The tattooed head turned slightly in a bird-like tilt. "Fight? Like what kind of fight?" Garrett could only shrug. " Just give me plenty of room for maneuverability.' He could see the pieces appearing over his body as he spoke to the tailor. " How's the mask coming along?"

A slow breath exhaled into the night. It had rained recently and there were puddles dotted here and there over the dark surface of the rooftop. The back light of streetlamps below gave the man something to reflect on at his feet. Looking into the natural mirror, his eyes saw what was standing above it. There was a reason he was wearing that mask. Countless reasons across the city. Countless reasons throughout time. Perhaps Garrett didn't have it in him. Good thing Seizure did. The countenance rose from the moment of quiet introspection, gazing at the gap before him with a fresh perspective. Breaths came evenly now, muscles tightened a second before the burst of motion. Feet padded across the rooftop, each one hitting the surface with a solid sureness. The edge came and it went as he flew through the air.

-----Last night----

Before tackling real opponents, ones with gifts like his own, Garrett thought it best to try regular drug dealers first. He had picked up the info from headquarters. These were third cousins, twice removed from the ones he really wanted to track. So if he failed, it would be painful, but not unforgivable. he had watched their routines, knew their patterns. He knew that they came here to this warehouse each night to distribute their toxins. Four to six gun handlers, two henchman and a well dressed man, passing out the daily rations. Just before distribution, it was collection of the last night's take. Occasionally there were brief squabbles. Then four to six became three to five. The suit was ready. So was he.