Gav pouts. Herod nods and makes Gav nod by pushing his head by the horn.

"Exemplars are the ones that look different or something, right? I am afraid I didn't get all the classifications straight."

"Yeah, there's a bunch of classifications. Exemplars are strong and tough and smart and pretty. You want the whole list?"

"Go ahead."

"Avatars channel the power of a spirit. They typically have other powers besides that, based on what spirit they have. My powers are mostly based on me being an Avatar. Devisors make weird machines that don't function on the same laws of physics the rest of us use. Espers have various forms of extrasensory perception, like empathy or psychometry. Energizers absorb some form of energy from some source or other and can release it in some specific form, often either physical speed or energy blasts. Gadgeteers have an instinctual understanding of technology, and can create things far beyond the current cutting edge; technically they're a kind of Esper, because they're easily capable of understanding and improving on devices they've never seen before. Manifestors can create some form of temporary material, like a suit of metallic armor or a geyser of human blood. Mimics can mimic other powers, regenerators can, well, regenerate, shifters can change their shape. Telekinetics have telekinesis, which can be at range or to enhance their own strength, or both. Warpers affect the laws of reality directly in some way, such as by altering probability or teleporting. Mages, as I mentioned, have an easier time using magic, and psychics have telepathic abilities, often along with telekinesis."

She exhales. "That's a lot of information at once, sorry."

"It's okay. Better explanation than we got during our paperwork. We got Ex-1 and Wiz-0 from being demons with a different kind of magic."

"Makes sense."

Ariel floats off the ground to look around the dorm room. "I guess you don't have a lot to move in. Should I leave you guys here to decompress?"

"Decompress from what? Getting all nice shiny stuff?"

"We wouldn't mind if you stuck around, but I wouldn't want to impose on your time."

"Hey, if you're not stressed I'm not worried. I don't have any demands on my time, we're in the middle of a break right now and my roommate's busy with personal shit. Y'all are the most interesting thing that's happened today. So, do you want to go into town and get the rest of your wardrobe taken care of?"

"Going into town sounds great!"

"Great. We can't fly there, too superpowery, but there's a bus in five minutes. Let's get out of here."

Ariel flies them to the bus stop, where there is indeed an idling shuttlebus. It takes them to a small town called Dunwich, where Ariel takes them to a little boutique owned by a woman named Cecilia Rogers.

"Ariel!" she exclaims. "Hello! Who are your guests?"

"These are Gavriel and Herod," Ariel says. "They need clothes. I defer to your expertise."

Ms. Rogers turns her gaze to the boys. "Wings and tails," she says thoughtfully. "Not my greatest challenge, but at least worth my attention." She waves her hand absently, and a large bolt of cloth flies toward her and hangs in the air. "Are we looking for normal clothing, superhero costumes, supervillain costumes? What do we need here?"

"Normal." Herod says giving Gavriel a sharp look. "We come from a world without superheroes and supervillains. We mostly want practical stuff to fit in."

"Speak for yourself. I want to stand out and attract all the boys."

"I can accommodate both of those preferences," Rogers says. "Herod, you first. You still want to look good as well as normal, though, correct? I will not make you a sweatsuit."

"I don't know what a sweatsuit is, but yes, I would still want to look good. Uh, we are used to borrowing each other's clothes which are always loose on me so I am not used to wear anything tight fitting?" This appears to be all he can readily offer on the topic of fashion.

She nods and sets to work.

Cloth, scissors, and measuring devices fly around at the clothier's whim, crafting reams of impeccably tailored clothing at a staggering rate. All of the pants have a slit at the back for tail access, and the shirts are either backless or feature similar slits for wings.

"You're lucky you don't have feathers," Cecilia says idly. "Feathers make it so hard to take a shirt off that pretty much anything I make has to be backless. And I invite you to find a way to make a backless tuxedo look dignified."

Well, technically, he is going to reincarnate as an angel one day and deal with feathers. He keeps the thought to himself, mostly because he is distracted by all the magical tailoring happening around him.

"Will I need to wear a tuxedo at some point?"

"It's possible. Ariel?"

"Throw one in, why not? Money's no object here. Maybe you'll have to attend a wedding. Or maybe you'll convert and have an extremely belated Bar Mitzvah."

"What's a ceremony of 'son of commandment'? Anyway, sure throw in a tuxedo. Henry doesn't know how to enjoy luxury."

"Oh yeah, automatic translation. It's a ceremony that you undergo in my religion when you turn 13 years old, or when you convert. Typically you dress up really nice and your grandparents give you money. If you have grandparents, and if they're Jewish. My own Bat Mitzvah was, uh, poorly attended."

Cecilia finishes with Henry and has him put on some socks and stick his feet into a machine that makes shoes to fit. "Next, please. What do you want, dear?"

"As Herod said I am used to tighter fitting clothing. It's not exactly a personal preference, but I like how they show off my muscles. Give the guys a sense of what's underneath."

Herod's tail makes a swish thing. "As long it keeps him proper. We don't have a sense of what's proper in this universe." He plays around with his new shoes.

Ms. Rogers nods understandingly. "Well, we can't have impropriety."

(She rolls her eyes conspiratorially at Gav.)

Things start flying around again. "Do you have any unusual resistance to cold?" she asks.

Gav matches her grin. "Not, like, as a power or anything, but I am used to it."

"Alright. Ariel's completely immune to cold, is why I ask," she explains conversationally. "The things that girl has worn out of my shop in the middle of winter..."

"Hey, you made that virgin-killer sweater of your own free will," Ariel says cheerfully.

"And that's something I must live with every day of my life," Ms. Rogers replies with a genteel shudder. "Oh, speaking of which, Gav, we should get you a couple of pairs of chaps. In case you have to unexpectedly ride a horse, or... something, I don't know your life."