ILLUSION || Jason Todd

THIRTY

❝BUT THERE'S NO TRAPPED DOORS

I'M NOT GONNA LEAVE❞

ONE DIRECTION, ILLUSION

Standing with her arms crossed, Lorelei's vision was focused on the case display in front of her. Stood loud and proud, her 'Phobia' plaque indicated the owner of the suit circling within the case as it clung to the stand in similar ways to the wrap it would on the young mage's body.

She loved her suit, it matched her abilities perfectly.

The material was black, perfectly crafted to blend with the shadows. If the ice blonde mage wanted to, she could camouflage herself flawlessly to hide in the shadows like a phobia; creeping up on her next victim with a type of finesse that only a panic attack wore.

Her suit itself was nothing but perfection. With the latest tech upgrades and details Lorelei - mostly Bruce, who took some of Lorelei's suggestions - had pondered, the suit became a comfortable and protective piece of armour. While not conservative, it was only moderately seductive. A perfect mix of 'Hey! I'm hot, but I also have a job to do.', if the violet eyed mage had to verbalise it. Obviously, her suit had a cape. It was a staple with Batman and his sidekicks, after all.

If the young mage was to choose her favourite part of her suit, it would be her mask; it was the true showstopper. Much like the entirety of her armour, it was black paired with white eye coverings as a nod to Dick's original Robin suit from his debut. It was also fitting for herself, considering the white that overtook her eyes and tears when using her artificial abilities.

It wasn't completely plain - her entire suit held intricate designs hidden within the black, adding a slight shimmer if the light were to hit her in a specific angle. From hidden runes to symbols from her textbooks in Centia, Lorelei's heritage remained dotting around her suit.

Her mask, the showstopper, also held an intricate design. Though different from the runes, her mask held the swirls and lines that connected the armour runes to one another. Her mask design twirled around the majority of her face, lifting to her head.

Lorelei could remember the day Garfield first saw her mask, the day it stood proudly in this case for everyone to see. It was the day herself and Dick set the display up, their heart-to-heart conversation being particularly difficult.

"Wow." Garfield breathed out, watching the young mage secure her mask to the stand. The final piece. "Y'know it kinda looks like a crown."

His comments, comparing it to a crown or a masquerade ball mask, weren't too far-fetched. Lorelei wanted that. For her mask to symbolise a crown.

Crowns held a special symbolism; power, dignity, authority. For her suit to represent those things, it was beyond important. Her mask, her title as Phobia, would become a symbol of hope, safety, help, for Gotham citizens - the good ones, anyway.

But to Lorelei, it meant so much more.

Regaining power over herself, her identity, and the person she would become.

Dignifying herself for overcoming the narratives forced upon her by Archmage, and Scarecrow.

Having the authority of rejecting the weapon she was designed to be, serving as a reminder that no matter what, Lorelei would preserve and overcome any obstacles that fail to give her choice over her life.