Clearly, Trogaar’s soldiers were at fault here; for the information they should have provided him on this unimportant planet would have been useful. This planet has a Green Lantern. Why had no one bothered to tell him this space sector has a Green Lantern? But yes, as they were approaching past this planet’s moon, one of Oa’s officers appeared before them, a dark-skinned, bipedal male preventing them from moving forward. Trogarr immediately halts their course.
“Attention,” the Lantern begins, transmitting his voice to their receivers, “You have entered the boundaries of Earth space. Disengage now. This is your first and final warning.”
Trogaar stills at the declaration, his mind retreating to the last time they had encountered a Green Lantern. His soldiers had taken the welp’s ring and would have claimed their prize, but only by the skin of their teeth, and furthermore, they hadn’t prepared themselves for her reinforcements.
“Lord Trogaar,” says a soldier, “what should we do?”
“Let’s open a portal!” says another, “Send our best onto the planet, and bring the prize to us!”
“But the portal is not stable!” Trogaar’s first lieutenant, Weezak, points out, “The prize nearly damaged it; who knows what that technology might do?”
Trogaar thinks carefully, staring at the Green Lantern, floating in space, tall and imposing against the might and bulk of his ship. His fists clench.
“Nearly damaged is better than obliteration,” He announces. “Power up the portals and send our troops to that planet!”
“We must get closer to the planet,” Weezak says.
Trogaar growls, “Then, we must fend off this interloper.” He turns to Weezak and says, “Once we create your opening, reclaim the prize. It should be,” he brings out a holographic map on his console, “somewhere on this western coast.”
Weezak grins, but Trogaar doesn’t.
“Bring her back,” he growls, “kill any to draw her out if you have to do, but bring her back. Or we will leave you to the mercy of the Green Lantern.”
Their ship rumbles, a hard thunk echoing before a newer, louder thunk follows it.
Trogaar scowls, “He suspects something.” and turns to Weezak, “Go, quickly!”
Weezak nods, and he is off.
----------------------------------------
“Bad news,” Superman announces.
Jagger starts to pull his Usagi mask off, only for Robin to slap it back down over the blonde's face. They observe the two men, ready to drag this night out.
“It appears your captors are not letting you go without a fight.”
Starfire, who had been doing a phenomenal job standing upright and hiding her exhaustion, now looked close to shambling. She looks at her new friends, seeing as that was most likely what they would become. The series of disparaging months passing before returns to her mind, and she remembers this sacrifice was made on her parents' broken hearts. Even so, Starfire was ready to suffer for her planet.
“Then,” she says with an edge, “I must finish this.”
“Wait,” Superman puts a hand on her shoulder, “when I said that, I meant it’s bad news for them.” He smiles, “You’re under our protection.”
She blinks, “But–” she stammers, “No.” and exclaims, “No! Trogaar is here because of me! I told you–I commanded you all to leave me alone, but you had to be the ‘nice’!”
“You’re getting mad because we helped you?!” Robin exclaimed, “But–”
Batman silenced them both.
“And we would do it again. And if you want to be pragmatic, look at it pragmatically: you’re tired.”
She shook her head, “No, I’m not!”
“I can tell.” He looms over her, “You haven’t slept in days, haven’t you?”
“I, I’m,” She stutters, “Resilient. All of Tamaran are. And I was trained by the Warlords of Okaara!”
“Days?” The White Rabbit scoffs, “Rookie numbers. I haven’t slept in nine weeks.”
No one speaks for a moment.
“I can’t sleep.” Victor says bitterly, “Comes with the ‘upgrade’.”
“The point is,” Superman interjects, “even the Warlords of…Okaara?” She nods, and he continues, “Even they had to sleep sometime, surely.”
“Well,” she looks down, “yes, but…”
“Why don’t you return to that arcade and enjoy the food?” He says kindly, “You’ve already shouldered so much; now let us relieve you of the weight. Besides,” he adds, “I’m sure the arcade will be okay since it’s covered.”
Superman warily side-eyes Batman, not that she would understand. The White Rabbit does, however, and chuckles mockingly. Robin elbows him, earning him a whine.
Starfire sighs heavily, looks up to Superman, and says, “Very well.” Inclining her head, “Thank you.”
Superman looks sheepish, “Just helping out.” He flinches at the voice in his ear, “I’m on my way, Lantern. Just hold out a little longer.” He shrugs apologetically, “Sorry.” He’s about to take off, but then he says, “Oh, remind me to introduce you to Supergirl!” Then, he takes off like a missile, heading straight to Green Lantern.
The White Rabbit observes Batman pressing buttons on his gauntlet.
“Hey,” he says, “is Batgirl going to fight the aliens on her boat?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Robin says, “we didn’t bring the Batboat.”
“Oh,” The White Rabbit laughs, “I thought you would say she’s at home.” Then walks back to the hole in the arcade.
Robin looks at his mentor, who gives him only the slightest nod, but the message is clear. Watch him.
Robin turns to Starfire and nods his head to the arcade. She hesitates and turns to see a black aerial vehicle approach them, the wind brushing around them, as Batman grapples up to the cockpit. The Batwing rises up and away from the street, then blasts into the sky. Starfire sighs and shrugs, and Cyborg trails behind them.
“Amazin’ how some people can sleep through all that,” Cyborg remarks, referencing the quiet streets.
“So,” she says, walking alongside, “there is a Superman and a Batman?”
Robin nods.
“And there is a Supergirl and a Batgirl?”
“Yep.” Robin says, “No Batwoman or Superwoman, though.”
“Then,” she continues, “is this Batgirl perhaps your sister? And are you his son? Should you not, then, be Batboy?”
Robin chuckles, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that.” He holds his hands up, “I mean, yeah, I guess we are a family, but actually, Batgirl is just a really good friend of mine.”
“Oh,” Starfire nods, and they keep walking to their table, seeing the White Rabbit fixing the chairs.
“How good?”
The question throws Robin off.
“I– wait, what?”
“How good of friends are you?” Starfire asks, looking upward, sounding too forceful to be noncommittal.
“Well…” Robin scrambles for an answer, his face slowly becoming red. Cyborg snickers.
“Strangers!” Jagger announced, his mask off and his hand holding two chocolate bars. "What can I make you?”
Thank you, Marlo, Robin thinks, then says, “How much popcorn do they have?”
“Trick question. You eat what I give you. It just happened to have popcorn.”
Jagger hops over the counter and heads into the kitchen. Robin then realizes that he has to do the talking between the pretty alien girl and his former school friend. As they sit down, with Cyborg sitting next to him and Starfire sitting opposite Robin, the Boy Wonder now has to generate a conversation that doesn’t sound stilted. So, he brings out the classic charm of his.
“Space, huh?” He begins, “Must have been harrowing.”
Thankfully, Starfire nods, “Escaping the Gordanians was the most excitement I’ve felt since escaping.” Then, sheepishly, “I might have crashed my Space-Slider into your moon by accident.”
“Hey,” Cyborg says warmly, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. That’s up there, and we’re down here. Just like they’re,” he pointed upward, “fightin’ those assholes up there, while we… sorry, but this is weird, right? It just feels wrong to be relaxin’ while an alien invasion is happenin’ above us!”
“That is what I said!” Starfire exclaims, then sniffs, “What is that smell?”
“Oh,” Robin says, “that smells like fresh popcorn!”
“Bro,” Cyborg says, tapping his shoulder, “You’re Batman and Robin. Aren’t you bothered by him leaving you here?”
Robin wavers but shrugs, “Yeah, of course! I’m worried about them both! But, at the same time, I trust them.” He lays his head against the table, “And besides, he and I have been chasing the Joker for nearly over a month now, almost catching him in three states. I need a break.”
“Yeah,” Cyborg says slowly, “I’ll bet even heroes gotta go to school.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Robin, realizing how the last word was emphasized, sits up slowly. Of all the people who could have said that, and the way Victor Stone, his old friend, emphasized that word. But Victor wasn’t done.
“I dunno how you guys do it, though,” He says, “I mean, stayin’ up all night, beatin’ up bad guys, then pretending you guys didn’t do anything in the mornin’. What about the guys you can’t save?” He clenches his fist, “I tried to save a guy tonight, and now, he’s dead.”
Both Starfire and Robin gasped.
Oh, yeah, Robin realizes, in all the excitement, we forgot about Old Tom Sawyer.
“I was good, you know,” Victor continues, “I was good at school, I was good with my girlfriend, my mom, and now!” He exclaims, appearing to hold himself down, his only eye watering, “What did I do to deserve this? If I keep helpin’ people, ain’t some good supposed to come back to me?”
He looks at Robin. Robin can see the question for what it is: a plead. Though he wasn’t expecting this, Robin knows what to answer.
“No,” he says softly, “no, not always. Sometimes, bad things happen. Sometimes all you want to do is get by, and then…”
Victor stares at him. Robin is almost certain he knows who he’s staring at.
“Is that why you do it?” Victor asks.
“No more than why you helped Linda Reed,” Robin says smiling, “or why she couldn’t help but give her tips to a homeless man, even though she needs it: it’s just who you are.”
Victor’s eyes trail downward.
“If I may,” Starfire interjects, and they look at her, “I know what pain and heartache feels like, Cyborg.”
Cyborg puts his forearm on the table, “You do, don’t you?”
“The Gordanians took me away from my parents.”
Cyborg absorbs this notion. He nods somberly.
“I’m sorry,” He says.
“As am I,” she replies. She smiles with them.
“SON OF A–”
The yell startles the occupants. They can hear clanging and glass breaking from beyond the counter.
“I WAS GONNA SAY GUN!!!” He shouts, “ALSO, I’M FINE!”
Cyborg turns to Robin, “Okay, what’s his story? Cause I’ve been running his face through a facial recognition software, but I keep drawin’ blank.”
Robin blinks, “Er, maybe that’s for the best.”
“I mean, I did see this news article about a bullet train disaster in Japan and found some footage of Bunny Boy walking away from that.” He pauses, “Then he started dancing.”
“What is a ‘bullet train’?” Starfire asks, “Is it a creature native to your world? Did the ‘Bunny Boy’ dance as a sign of victory?”
Cyborg and Robin blink in unison.
“Uh, well–”
“Kinda.” Robin says lopsidedly, then hesitantly, “It’s complicated. He’s not really a hero, but he’s not a villain either.”
“He attacked me.” Starfire says.
Robin winces, “I guess he thought you were hurting everyone.”
Starfire frowns, looking down, “Even so…” A scent entered her nose, a warm scent that tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Hey,” Robin says gently, “If you’re sorry, he’s gonna have to apologize too.”
Starfire smiled brightly, then asked:
“What is that delicious aroma?”
“Who said Japan?”
The three look away to see Jagger walking toward them. The smell hit them all, but only Robin and Cyborg knew what it was: popcorn, but with a deepness they couldn’t quite describe. Jagger struggles to hold the bags as if he was holding a grand bouquet of flowers. In an instant, he passes the big bags to each recipient, smoothly shuffling them in his arms like playing cards.
Cyborg looks at the popcorn in his bag, vaguely wondering if this guy was playing some sick prank on him by giving him all the burnt ones. But Cyborg realizes that he can’t smell any burnt popcorn and sees that the other three have the same brownish, buttery pile. Cyborg scanned the popcorn: he detected vanilla, high amounts of sugar, cacao beans–
“Wait,” Cyborg says, fighting a grin, “did you mix this with chocolate?”
Jagger starts eating, “Yeah.” standing around, watching their reactions.
Starfire happily shoves the popcorn in her mouth, chews, then says:
“It tastes richer and smoother but just as good!”
“Jagger,” Robin says, “you’re going to give us so many cavities!”
Is that a problem?” Jagger asks.
“Hell no!”
With that, the teens happily munched on the overly abundant, sweetly salted snack. Jagger silently thanks fate that no one asks for more, as he hoped to keep the six other bags in the back for himself. This relief is tested when Robin asks if he made any more, to which Jagger lies almost smoothly. But Robin has been taught to be a detective and asks Jagger if it's okay to check. Jagger groans and acquiesces, trudging to the kitchen to fetch the rest. Cyborg admonishes him for hiding the bags, and after Robin declares that one bag is enough for him, Cyborg and Starfire get the three each. Jagger retaliates by flinging a kernel at his face, to which Cyborg repeats the response. One by one, two by two, three by an entire bag hitting Jagger’s face, Starfire catching kernels every so often, and Robin laughing at all of it. Despite their costumes, their masks, his cybernetic body, her orange skin and red star-colored hair, you would only suspect to see four adolescents enjoying the night, their laughter lingering.
She felt all of this, these raw emotions that healed them from their troubles and trials, and knew, truly, that it had to last.
When Jagger shields from a new bag, he’s thrown off his chair, crawling on the floor for the bag, and sees a shoe instead. Goth, punk-style shoes with twin purple flaps hanging on the sides. They’re suddenly obscured by an extremely dark blue or purple cape, like bat wings, and the movement snaps Jagger into action. He backflips into a crouch, reaching for his hands, then stops.
The others have noticed as well, and Robin is the first to respond:
“Where did you come from? Who…”Robin’s words died on his lips, not easing Jagger’s nerves.
Standing before, smoke dissipating, a clocked figure that the lights struggle to define; whereas Jagger’s clothes are graying and fading in their blackness and ash-covered, this girl seems the midnight dreary spoken and echoing long after midnight. She stands hooded, this silken, sad, and uncertain purple or dark blue figure, demure and lonely even in the room with the liveliest strangers. But perhaps she wasn’t darkness peering into light, as more a lost bird, not seeking a fight. And a bird she resembles, with only her pale jaw and lidded eyes peeking below the thick and angular hood shaped like a beak.
“Forgive me,” she speaks, ambling, “I didn’t mean to startle any of you.”
“Hello,” says Starfire smiling, “Robin, is this perhaps a friend you know?”
But Robin doesn’t answer.
“Drawing a blank, I see,” Cyborg says, turning left to see Jagger backing up and placing a metallic hand on his shoulder, “Hey, man, you okay?”
Jagger freezes on contact and looks at Cyborg in seeming surprise. Cyborg raises a brow, but then the newcomer speaks again:
“My name is Raven.”
The teens look at each other.
“Hi, Raven,” they all say.
Raven blinks, “Um…hi.”
They all stand awkwardly, though Cyborg breaks the silence before it can become too awkward and confusing:
“Want some popcorn? It’s chocolate flavor.”
Raven looks at the bags of popcorn. Then, she walks closer to them and takes the offered bag.
“I don’t mean to impose,” she says.
“Too late,” Jagger says automatically.
“Hey!” Cyborg says, brows raised. Raven looks down, and Cyborg waves, “No, no, ignore him.”
“Don’t worry,” she says, “I’m used to it.” Before another uncomfortable silence takes hold of them, she continues, “It’s fortunate you have all met and recuperated. But you must hear my words! There is a new danger approaching, and we may be the only ones who can defeat it.”
Her audience looks at each other.
“New danger?” Starfire parrots, “Do you mean the Gordanians?”
Raven shakes her head, “Not even they, for all their destructive might, can hold a candle to this nightmare.”
“Oh, come on,” Cyborg says, laughing a little, “whatever it is can’t possibly be worse than an alien invasion.”
“It’s going to submerge the world in poison gas.”
Everybody’s heart stopped, and a slight breeze nudged the occupants, its whistle the only sound.
“I stand corrected,” Cyborg frowned.
“If the threat is so big,” Jagger says, drawing their attention, “why come to us? Why not the League?”
“Yeah,” Robin crosses his arms, “and how do you know any of this?”
Raven bends her head, “Because the League will soon be too focused on keeping the alien threat at bay, and I know because I have foreseen it.”
“You’ve foreseen it?” Robin says with a row raised, “So, does that mean you’re–”
“Psychic?” Cyborg asks.
“A soothsayer?” Starfire asks.
“A soothing psycho saying we should fight a worm?” Jagger asks.
“Rabbit!” Robin bites. Jagger held up his fingerless gloved hands.
Raven is still for a moment, then says, “I’m hardly a soothsayer. I have caught glimpses of the future, echoes of premonitions.”
“Kind of confusing,” said a new voice, “but then, I’m not a mystic.”
Unseen by all, Jagger stiffens and shifts behind Cyborg’s robust form as everyone’s attention has been gleaned by the newcomer’s companion. She has bright, blonde hair fringing to the right side of her pretty face, a vibrant red cape connecting to her shoulders, and a familiar symbol on her chest. Her collar is deep blue, just like her sleeves, and beneath her blue abdomen is the golden V-shaped belt connected to a red skirt with strips that shape an M. Walking on red boots and bare thighs, she greets the others warmly, most recognizing her instantly. Still, only two people in the room know her personally.
“Hey, Supergirl!” Robin says, walking up to give her a fist bump, which she gladly accepts. “Good to see another familiar face here.”
“Same here,” Supergirl smiles.
Cyborg raises a brow, “I guess this place really did become a party. Looks like we’re gonna be meetin’ new people all night long.”
Robin directs her to the others, “Supergirl, these are our new friends.”
“Yeah, how you doin’?” Cyborg waves, his frown withering away by flecks.
Starfire outdoes this approach by zipping to Supergirl: “Hello! I am Starfire! Are you the Supergirl I was told about?”
Supergirl shrugs, “As long as the Supergirl you were told about is a good one. You may have met my cousin?”
Starfire beams, “Oh, the Superman is your cousin! I hope we can be great friends!”
Supergirl laughs as the orange-skinned girl hugs her, “Okay, yeah, I get the feeling we just might. Aliens have to stick together, right?”
Starfire recoils, “How did you know I am not of the…” Then, she peers at her pale skin compared to her own orange, “Oh, right.”
Supergirl giggles, “Don’t sweat it.”
As they continue to speak, Supergirl notices a single heartbeat that rushes faster than the rest. She hones in on the source, glancing behind the tall Cyborg and catching the sight of two feet behind him disappearing. Frowning, she excuses herself from Starfire:
“Excuse me,” she says to Cyborg, “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Mainly cause I didn’t give it,” He states, “but I’m calling myself Cyborg.”
Supergirl pauses, then shrugs, “Fair enough. Sorry, Cyborg, but can you do me a solid and turn around?”
“Hey,” Robin says suddenly, “You guys said we have an emergency?”
“In a minute.” Supergirl states, “I just need to talk to one more…person.”
“Oh,” Cyborg says, “I was wondering where he went.” Cyborg’s back faced Supergirl, and at that moment, he raises his voice, “Hey, how are you doin'–? Get offa me! I said GET!!! OFF!!!”
Cyborg whirls around, this time throwing something onto the ground at Supergirl’s feet. The White Rabbit picks himself up and, though taller than her, looks very small.
“Supergirl,” He says.
“White Rabbit,” she says in return.
All the room occupants are surprised by the contrast in their voices: one is devoid of emotion, and the other is tinged with demureness or perhaps fear. Supergirl’s posture appears straighter, and her hands grip her elbows, while any confident swagger disappears under Jagger’s now skittish legs, shifting feet, and bent posture. Behind the group, Raven raises her head, nearly peeking out of the hood. Supergirl appears to have more to say, while the White Rabbit remains motionless and slack in his body language, but they back away from each other. Supergirl sighs as she turns away, while Jagger releases a breath he was withholding.
Robin clears his throat, “So, Supergirl, how’d you meet Raven?”
Supergirl rubs the back of her head, smiling, the tension seemingly forgotten, “Funny story.”
----------------------------------------
“Thank you, Amazonian training!” Supergirl yelled. Currently, she spun through the air like a throwing knife, gripping the alien’s wings and riding him into the ground. The gordanian explodes into the road, face first. Supergirl flips him over; the gordanian tries to kick her off, prompting a blast of heat-vision into his chest. The gordanian is then grabbed by the ankles and slammed into the ground like a hammer.
Supergirl watches him groan and twitch, then decides the effort is too much. Supergirl brushes some pieces of bricks out of her blonde hair, making a noise. Then, she places her hands on her hips, grinning.
“What’s the matter, guys?” She says, “All bark and no bite? A pillow hits harder than you!” As if daring her to revise her statement, her shoulder throbbed, and her smile shook; she grasped her shoulder, “Really hoping you guys don’t understand English.”
The Gordanians pick themselves out from the road and the alleyway; one finally dislodges his head from a hole that held a fire hydrant, the water blasting upward and the gordanian spitting and sputtering out water. Weezak wipes his face off the water with throbbing claws, cracking them as they turn into fists. Supergirl scowled, rushing toward him in a burst of speed. Weezak flipped out a blaster, and an electrical blast wrapped Supergirl’s form. Supergirl screamed before she could genuinely gasp. Weezak grinned as the female wailed and writhed as her hands flailed and receded, falling onto the ground as if debating in those painful moments whether to crawl away or curl into a ball. Until finally, the debate ended when her screams subsided.
Weezak and the others dragged themselves, limping or trudging towards Supergirl, who lay unmoving with strings of steam rising from her body, “They’re always so arrogant.” He flashed the blaster, “We must thank our suppliers for the ‘agony matrix’ blasters.”
“If only we had used it on our first prize,” a soldier said, “It would have saved us so much trouble.”
Weezak snickered. “Well, now Trogaar knows not to leave Phusgra in charge of negotiations with Apokolips.” Then he crouched and said, “Now, help me with this.”
“You think he’ll survive his injuries?”
Weezak turned, “Do you know, I really don’t care. Phusgra has always been more trouble than he’s w…wait, what is happening?”
Mist had begun to rise all around them before it became denser and colder. Weezak turned sharply when something rang in his ears, but his weapon pointed at an empty street. The chill persisted, and Weezak’s cold reptilian blood suddenly felt colder. His own shadow seemed longer and darker and growing by the second. Weezak froze. He looked up.
A pitch-black mass loomed over him. Weezak fired into it. When nothing happened, the mass attacked, locking its talons under Weezak’s shoulders and dragging him around with his feet scraping on the road. Weezak thrashed beneath it, cursing at it, but the mass turned, and Weezak crashed into one of his soldiers, the force blasting them past the water spraying from the busted hydrant.
Weezak growls, picking himself off the soldier and clutching his head. He stumbles, falling to his knees, his vision now unfocused. He can hear his soldiers screaming and cursing. Weezak scrambles for his weapon, but he finds a rock instead. He clutches it, barely estimating where the battle occurred, and then throws it, hoping it hits the creature. One of his soldiers yelps, then gets silenced by a louder thud. Weezak breathes heavily, trying to peer past the water blasting upward.
Supergirl walks around it; steam still stuck to her shoulders, her red cape sagging over her, and with a stern glare. She clutches her shoulder, then releases it and makes a fist.
“Sun’s almost up,” she says, “You can still take a NAP!!!” Her fist connects with Weezak’s chin with a heavy crack like twenty jackhammers, and Weezak falls back onto the soldier he had crashed into. Supergirl watches him for a moment, then sighs. She turned around, stepping over the two unconscious bodies that she hadn’t dealt with, pitied the one with a rock stuck in his mouth, and then met with her savior.
“Let me continue healing you,” Raven had said.
Supergirl flexed her hand, “I’ll be fine with the sun in another few hours.” Then thinks, “Even though the sun’s light is reflecting with the moon.”
“Even so,” Raven said, almost wobbling.
Supergirl noticed this, “Are you okay?”
“You did the most,” Raven replied, “I can take the rest of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can take your pain and make it my own,” Raven said, “those are part of my powers, as I am an empath, and I know I can help you.”
Superman reeled back slightly, then smiled, “Hey, come on. Don’t do that to yourself. I’ll be fine.”
Raven looked through her hood, her pale hands poking through, then receding them back below her cloak. The two are quiet for a moment. Supergirl holds out her hand.
“I’m Supergirl,” she says, “In case it wasn’t obvious.”
“I know,” the other girl said, taking her hand with a nonexistent grip. “My name is Raven.”
“So,” Supergirl says, “pardon me if I’m judging by the cover, but you out here often?”
“I am here because I need to be here,” Raven answers in a grave and heavy tone. “There are others, like us, who have the abilities needed to combat an encroaching parasite that will shake the Earth.”
Supergirl was silent, blinking twice.
“Man, I wish I could start a sentence like that.”
Raven’s head lowered, “You make fun of me.”
“No, no!” Supergirl’s hands flew up, “You’re okay! It’s just, I mean, an alien invasion is bad, but I think we’ll handle it.”
“Not these aliens,” Raven said slowly, “Something worse.”
“After you and I beat these guys, the bar’s pretty low,” Yet, even after saying that, something in Raven’s tone inspired Supergirl to listen.
“This threat,” Raven said, “will make them look like gnats by comparison…unless we stop them.”
Supergirl stares at Raven, crosses her arms, and says, “Okay, I get you. What do we do?”
----------------------------------------
“And now we’re here,” Supergirl states, smiling lopsidedly.
The other teens share looks with each other, with Robin tilting his head towards the messengers and Starfire nodding emphatically. Cyborg is still for a moment, but then he nods his head and cracks the joints in his mechanical knuckles. Robin smiles, then watches Jagger shift in place. He bends his head downward, sighs deeply, and lifts his mask to rub his face. To Robin, the action was so relatable, a far cry from the bouncing menace from a few hours ago.
Jagger lowers his Usagi mask and says, “Sure.”