Hank looked over his electronic message once more before he hit send from one of the computers in his new laboratory. It was a simple request for the team members to contact him to make appointments for physicals and blood samples, so Hank wouldn't have to deal with the varied people blindly in case of emergency. There was medical data he needed to know before medical treatment was required, blood samples to take and keep, abilities and medical histories to discuss. He was a professional, after all, and this was the main reason Dinah had reached out to him. Attached to the end of the notice was also a quite offering of assistance in the creation of tactical uniforms (he didn't like the word 'costumes') to conceal identity and control or amplify any natural abilities they used in the feild. Some members (at least, the ones who had been heroes in their past lives) already had protective outfits, but after the Mayor's condemnation of the Justice League's actions Hank had become uncomfortably aware that it might be something all world-venturing team members might want for matters of personal safety.
He hadn't done anything about his own possiblity except a rudimentary yellow and black outfit that was built to let him move unhindered, with an attachable pack on the back to carry medical supplies in case he was needed. It was hung on one wall at the moment, a simple example of his ability to manufacture an outfit that hopefully didn't look too campy.
His brow furrowed at the last part of the message and he grunted, hitting 'send' before he could overthink the matter. It was his job to look after the health of the team, and in his mind the uniform offer of help went along with that, now that he had the lab fully equiped to handle the team's medical needs. And who knew, parthaps even the already outfitted members of the group would like enhancements. Everyone except the Batman fellow, who just unnerved Hank. The full body suit was hiding something, the boy could tell, though he couldn't put his finger on what, yet.
Finished with the message he pushed back from the computer station, his wheeled chair moving swiftly and easily over to one of the broad, oversized tables that didn't have designated hardware on them. Climbing out of the chair he sat in the middle of the table, which otherwise was ammassed with bits and pieces of electronics, tools, wires, and spare bits of metal. He picked up a small device he'd been working on and strapped it onto his wrist, turning towards a full length mirror he'd put on the wall temporarily, clicking a button on the wristband.
"Ouch," he winced, the electric shock that came from the band taking him somewhat by surprise. It stopped, though, and as he watched his reflection it started to become fuzzy, then slowly dissintegrate into a patchy, unfocused set of sparkling colors, flickering in and out. Hank's lip twitched and he turned off the device, his physical image in the mirror reverting back to the normal picture of a gangly, skinny boy in doctor's clothing. This image inducer technology was exciting, but so far he couldn't even get close to a human-like image to lay over whoever wore the wristband. As a method of protection it didn't seem like it would be a readily available disguise.
Hank picked up some tools and opened the device, starting to fiddle with the contents, loosing himself in the innovation and trying to push out thoughts of his cure out of his mind. He was still waiting for things to settle, still waiting to see what his place in the team might be. He hadn't really interacted with any of them since their initial mission, but he trusted that soon they'd come to an understanding and he'd be able to better guage the best time for him to try the solution out. In the meantime he'd do his best to contribute to the team by working on his technology, a task which he lost himself in easily for hours and even days without noting a change in his surroundings.