Hiro sees hears and smells and senses the creature long before he sees him. He invaribly thinks it's stupid.

Hiro stood, his overcoat discarded in favor of a black, vinyl a-shirt. Other than that, the only other objects on him were black, loose pants with the bottoms stuffed into the necks of large, S.E.A.L boots, combat boots. He stood with his arms crossed, waiting for others. So far this thing would be his biggest problem. The crowds cheered as Hiro raised his head to the side and pressed his chin up as the creature looked at him. Immediately Hiro's flesh began to glow with the all too familiar luminescence, his eyes swirls of Light and Dark. In a flash of light his wings were alive with fire on his back, flowing black feathers soft as down, black flame dancing along the sides of each wing, following every graceful curve. "Why don't you save it for the actual fighters." Hiro said, uninterested and nonchalent.