5.3

5.3

'Oh,' mission failed. Sounding foolish had been secured. 'Hi, Dragon. Armsmaster said you were going to call.'

'I'm glad, I asked him to let you know. He said you had some things you wanted to ask.'

Taking a brief second, which was probably significantly less than a second in practice but felt like much longer, you exhaled before starting again. Perhaps the false front of professionalism was useful for one thing, if nothing else, and that was making sure you could speak without tripping over yourself.

'I did, thank you – I just didn't expect it quite so soon, since he only let me know yesterday.'

'Were you speaking about anything related to our call?'

'No, I was just telling him about a new thing that I came up with, a piece of technology. He thinks,' you weren't sure if breaching it in this way was the most practical, but you felt awkward dancing around it. 'He thinks it might be from a new tinker power, but I haven't tested it yet.'

'That's amazing. Tinker powers are generally considered extremely useful, for yourself and others; you should be pleased.'

While you didn't think Dragon was the kind of person to speak from a position of self-aggrandisement, you couldn't help but notice a kind of cheerful reflectiveness in that comment; she really did seem to enjoy being a tinker. Not that it was a surprise; she wasn't just a tinker, she was the tinker; the world's premiere, and by use of her tinkering she was able to make the world a better place a thousand times more easily than any other hero who was dependent on such constraints as time and distance.

'I am, just a little confused. Not sure where to start. Armsmaster said I should get some spare resources and do a trial run of my first ideas and see how it went, but I'm not an expert on building things. Aside from some basics, I've never really even put together a circuit.'

'You shouldn't worry,' came Dragon's soothing voice. You wondered about the contrast between her intimidating nom de guerre and her extremely pleasant persona; did she come up with the name or was it allocated? You knew that sometimes happened to heroes. 'Tinkering is unusual in that while it can benefit from some background knowledge, it doesn't need any. That's why tinker made items are so difficult for people to use if they didn't make it themselves: the power itself, by some means, fills in the flaws in the design. Good science is not needed in most cases; you could think, in a way, of tinkering to engineering as alchemy is to chemistry. With the exception of it working, of course.'

'Thank you, I'll keep that in mind. Is there anything else I should know going in? I don't want to damage my house.'

The idea of damaging yourself came up briefly, but you didn't take it too seriously; while you knew that some tinker materials were extremely dangerous, you weren't working on anything that you thought could overcome your own natural Brute defences. If you found a way to make something out of a cheap cell phone that could open yourself up to major damage, you would deserve the scars; mistakes of that scale were impressive enough to memorialise.

'Basic experimental procedure is always advised. Take notes, ensure your workspace is as clear as possible before beginning, set alarms to prevent yourself from wasting more time than is necessary, perform test designs using lower quality materials whenever possible to avoid wasting expensive equipment on prototypes which won't work, and keep yourself honest. There are more specifics that you will learn through experience but some of them will depend on whatever your own area of tinker expertise occupies. Does that help?'

'It does. I'll follow your advice, thank you.'

'Please keep me updated – once you begin to figure out your direction, I may have some more specific help I can give. Don't forget that people have been in your position before. Every tinker has had something fail catastrophically, and we do not judge.'

You got a feeling that Dragon was speaking much more for herself in that than she was for others; while you knew that Armsmaster wasn't as cold as his initial trickery surrounding Coil had implied, you thought that he might have been the kind of person to judge someone if a mistake they made was truly elementary. Not in a malicious way, but as a fundamental texture to his character.

'Thank you, I'll make sure to keep you in the loop. What I really wanted to ask about was related to when we took Hookwolf to the Birdcage, though. Is it alright if I ask a few questions?'

'Of course, as long as it isn't about anything classified.'

'It isn't. Or at least, I don't think it is. It's just that when we were there, I spoke to Assault for a few minutes and he told me about how there's some problems with the Birdcage. The fact that people go there for all kinds of different reasons but they all get the same sentence, even if some of them are worse than others, and then it's dangerous inside for the less harmful ones. He was saying that is isn't fair. I tried looking it up but there isn't even that much information available online, so I thought that you were the best person to come to. Was he right?'

For the first time in the conversation, Dragon went quiet. She was an interesting person to speak to, with a seemingly immediate answer to every question and always able to follow the arc of a conversation without answering quickly enough to seem rehearsed or disinterested. It felt as though she was fully invested in every sentence, but in a way that implied a sense of control as an interlocutor rather than a sense of consumption in the conversation. Nobody else you had ever met really spoke like that, and it was endearing if a little strange.

Hearing her pause felt alien, for reasons that made little sense; as eloquent and quick as she was, Dragon was a person like any other and anyone could be given pause. Especially when it related to a criticism of their own job; you could only hope that you hadn't offended her.

'Assault is not entirely wrong,' Dragon picked up, seemingly undeterred by her own irregular pacing. 'But nor is he entirely right. It's true that the Birdcage has problems. There are things about it that, were I able to change them, I might; however, I am a Warden and not a legislator, and it is imperative that the rules be followed. If those rules changed, I would be grateful for it in certain ways, though it might make my own job more difficult, because he is correct in that it is an imperfect system.'

'Why don't you try and push for change then? You're an important person, they would listen to you.'

What made you decide to argue back, you weren't sure, but once the words were out of your mouth you couldn't bring yourself to regret them.

'Pushing for change takes time and energy. I try what I can, when I can, but my hands are tied with other projects and responsibilities. One of the problems of being an important person is that your time no longer belongs to you as much as it might have done before people knew you.'

As much as you yearned to disagree, it was difficult. While there was no argument that your own issues were on the scale that Dragon's inhabited, the reality was that you knew she was right. Most of the last week had been bound up in a single extended mission; you'd barely seen Vicky, your best friend, and although you were already rectifying that before you left for Atlanta the fact that duty calling took you to another city was only further proof. Much of your life felt out of your own hands.

You weren't sure that you liked it, at least not formulated in such a plain and abrupt manner.

'That's true,' you started, but you weren't willing to concede the point so easily. As much as you had no real knowledge of the Birdcage in depth, you weren't the type of person to simply give up on a point that even Dragon was now lending credence. 'But if you know it's not right, how do you make yourself do it anyway? I would never do something like that.'

'I hope that you're never placed in a position where you have to. I stand in an awkward position, Penumbra. The Birdcage is not going away regardless of what I think, and as a hero, I have to do what I can to make the situation better. If all that I can do is to manage the Birdcage, so that whoever else might take up the job can't make the situation worse, then that is what I will do until things change enough for doing something else to become plausible.'

Nothing about that seemed tolerable. You liked Dragon, she had been nice to you and extremely helpful, but you didn't believe her. Either she had something deeper going on that made it hard for her to leave her role, or she was lying and trying to appease you rather than open up the can of worms that would come about from her taking a position in opposition to your own; you were surprised by the force of your own convictions, as quickly as they came about. There was something very wrong about the Birdcage, even if you couldn't put your finger on it, and Dragon's position as the Warden seemed wildly out of character.

Which meant either her position wasn't what you thought it was, or her character wasn't what you thought it was. For your own sake, you hoped the issue was the former, though that came with problems of its own.

'I see. I'm not sure what to say.'

'You aren't required to say anything. Sometimes it can be helpful to sit with your concerns and reach a new position before moving forward. Perhaps if you still feel strongly when you have considered the facts more deeply, you can take further action. After all, I would welcome change if it came about, and who better to push for it than the most popular Ward in the United States?'

'The who?'

'According to several recent polls, as your role in the capture of the Empire has spread in the media, combined with your past accomplishments, several of the popular parahuman tracking websites have seen an increased interest in you. You are very popular. I believe that pre-orders for your merchandise, whenever it is released, will make you a wealthy individual.'

'That makes no sense.'

'I wouldn't agree with that. As much as the world has its issues, there will always be a contingent of people who are happy to see figures such as Kaiser taken out of public influence. You did a good thing, Penumbra.'

'Thank you. I appreciate that.'

And you did. Dragon's praise had the same effect that Armsmaster's did straight after the battle had ended, sending a warmth through you. Something about people who would actually know what good hero work looked like praising you, affirming that you made the right choice, was gratifying in a way that you weren't sure how to communicate without sounding extremely strange.

'Any advice on keeping it up?'

Probing Dragon for hero guidance hadn't really been your intent going into the situation, but she was the one who brought up your popularity and while you weren't eager for the glory, you couldn't deny that after so long being acknowledged solely for negative reasons, getting some attention for things you had done right was a change of pace that you were going to embrace whole-heartedly.

Dragon seemed to understand, or at least didn't seem to resent the question, because her advice was forthcoming and plentiful, if somewhat formulaic. Much of what she advised came packaged within the public relations handbook that you had read some time ago, but she noted a few things that you hadn't heard before.

'When you transfer to Atlanta, your biggest concern should be with getting to know your new team immediately. It's easy to make the mistake of getting a partner, entering the field in an attempt to make a difference, and neglect the people who are not immediately useful to you. I had a similar experience after leaving Newfoundland; throwing myself into work was helpful in the shorter term, but it made my integration into the Guild's more public facing life significantly more difficult. If Armsmaster hadn't been suggested as a contact by Narwhal, I may have never truly achieved some of the things of which I am most proud. Don't forget to be a person, before you are a hero.'

With those parting words, Dragon had been forced to leave; her schedule was tight, and while she seemingly had no qualms with catching up with you again at a later date, particularly after you had begun to make some degree of progress in your tinkering, she couldn't afford to burn hours at a time on the phone, especially not to a Ward from hundreds of miles away.

Taking a moment to adjust your thoughts, you returned to your original pathway and entered the Wards' room, where you saw very little. It made sense; it was early afternoon, so Aegis' presence checked out as Wards were given some leeway to escape school early on certain days, but you didn't expect anyone was going to join him; as it was, he was locked in a surprisingly animated conversation with Miss Militia, whose folded arms appeared like a dam against the tide of Aegis' pleading gestures.

You weren't sure what they were talking about, but when you drew closer you thought you figured it out.

'It just makes no sense, it doesn't hurt at all. I don't understand.'

'The Director has said no, Aegis. While you might not feel it, all that means is that the responsibility to keep you safe falls to others. Kid Win can test his weaponry on someone else.'

'Fine. I understand. Oh, hi Penumbra.'

'Hi.'

The mood changed instantly, as the surprisingly petulant complaints died away and Aegis returned to his professional self. You didn't think he had it in him to be so vociferously complaining, but you did figure that after everything he was a teenager. That you were also a teenager meant nothing; you were sure that someone else had decided you were petulant at some point too, even if you didn't see it yourself.

'Did you check out that stuff I sent you?'

'I did, thank you. First class is in a few days.'

'That's fantastic, I'll wish you luck. Combat training for Brutes is fairly simple, they don't really expect anyone to be a black belt in anything, but there are tricks that you can do if you aren't worried about hurting yourself too much that most people can't, and it's good to know how to get the most out of your powers.'

You weren't going to argue with that, but Aegis' phone rang and he excused himself before you could follow up, leaving you alone with Miss Militia.

She looked the same as she always did, though the angle of her eyebrow, delicately arched and dark against her tanned skin, gave away more than a little of her amusement at Aegis' frantic nature. Humour wasn't exactly what Miss Militia was known for, but it seemed to make sense that she would develop something of a sense of schadenfreude; everyone who worked with younger people had to, in a way. It was that or cringe to death whenever the teenagers around you went through an embarrassing moment, and Miss Militia didn't feel like the kind of person who would crawl away from such things either. Better to learn how to benefit from them.

'How are you, Penumbra?'

'I'm alright. A lot on my mind, after everything.'

'I understand. Make sure you're taking time to yourself to unwind. You're no use to anybody if you begin to get overwhelmed in a moment of pressure.'

Familiar with the feeling, you couldn't bring yourself to argue the point.

'I will, I promise. I'm going out with Glory Girl tomorrow, and with family this weekend. Time to myself. Last week was out of the norm, what with the Empire deciding to put everything into action so quickly.'

'Of course. Things work like that in the world of parahumans, I'm afraid. There will be months where nothing happens, and then a week where all of those months arrive at once. It's not always easy to cope with, even if everyone involved has been dealt with.'

Hearing that idea brought a question to mind; had everyone been dealt with? Kaiser and Iron Rain's imprisonment had been part of the press releases and you'd even caught it mentioned on the front page of the newspaper, but you couldn't remember hearing anything about Kaiser's kids. Or Purity, for that matter – why would that be?

You asked Miss Militia, trying to phrase it in such a way that you weren't implying your own over-interest in the matter. Curiosity was one thing, but implying that Purity's life was any big focus of yours wasn't really what you were going for.

'The children are well, and are currently being watched over by Purity herself, who is under monitoring. There may be a chance for supervised release, if she's willing to hand over information on the Empire's operations outside of Brockton Bay. It's a delicate situation, I'm sure you can understand.'

And you did.

Purity was messed up. That much was clear. Nobody joined the Empire in the first place without being severely wrong, both in the factual and moral senses. But she had also defected, and the last time you had seen her she had been attempting to actively kill the leader of the gang. While that told you nothing about her factual or moral stance, it did tell you that it clearly wasn't precisely aligned with the Empire anymore.

If the Protectorate could defuse that into something slightly less volatile, they had to try. Even if you were fully convinced that it wouldn't work: if Aster hadn't been involved, you were half certain that Purity would have let Theo get sent off anywhere, to experience anything.

That's not what a good person does.

'So what's going to happen with the children? Are they just going to stay with Purity forever? Theo isn't even hers, I think.'

'It depends. I'm not in charge of negotiations but there are a lot of options that the PRT is making available.'

'Available to the children, or to Purity? Has anyone asked Theo what he wants? Just because he's a kid doesn't mean everyone else should make his decisions for him. He's probably not even much younger than me.'

Miss Militia stiffened as though she had been stung, and you weren't sure why. What you had said cut to the heart of what you believed – if someone had tried to make such decisions about you without your input, you would not have been happy for a single moment – but it wasn't like you had accused her of anything in particular.

'Miss Militia?'

The question cut through her stiffness, and she blinked slowly before the heightened tension left her frame.

'I'm sorry Penumbra,' she said, voice noticeably quietened. 'I think asking Theo might be a good idea.'

She excused herself rapidly, leaving you without full answers and with a range of additional questions. The urge to rush after her and ask if she was okay swelled up within you, but you were halted by propriety and projection; you had even given Amy more space than Miss Militia, and that had worked out for the better, and you didn't even really like Amy all that much.

Miss Militia was a grown adult, and you would let her have the space that she apparently needed; maybe she just felt bad for the kid. You knew that you did, even if his ardent defense of Othala in the dome had gotten under your skin.

Tuesday, 5th April

Hanging in the air above the Lord Street market that signified the delineation between Lung's territory the rest of the city – technically held by the Azn Bad Boys, but nobody was foolish enough to pretend that the gang could hold even half of its space without Lung's involvement – you allowed the chatter below you to filter up and crash through you.

The entire market was boisterous. There were tented roofs lined with slogans and the smog of years in the city, perched above overflowing desks filled with all manner of knick-knacks, curios, and bric-a-brac pressuring the frames of their stalls with their useless weight. Market vendors of fruit and vegetables oversaw stalls of vast powers of apples and citrus fruits; fat round onions which burst from their papered skins like the sun through darkened clouds; pans of spices arranged artfully in polychrome pyramids by a group of Egyptian veterans of the market, who spoke quickly and haggled in language laced with compliments and savvy salesmanship.

While you weren't the kind of person that was attracted to the market, the market was attracted to everyone; even those below were so enraptured by the wealth and breadth of wares on sale that they scarcely noticed you, looking up on occasion to check that you were still there but otherwise going about their purchasing with a kind of hurried ease, where products could go fast but very little was in commitment.

When Glory Girl joined you, things changed.

As much as Dragon had been clear that you were popular across the United States, there was no beating Glory Girl for popularity in Brockton Bay. You were, by comparison, a flash in the pan newby and she had been doing her thing for a few years now. The scion of New Wave, who themselves had a significant reputation, along with a costume that screamed attention-grabbing, flowing blonde hair, a known civilian persona they could attach to it, and a far more media friendly approach to things, Glory Girl was like the kind of hero they made action figures of.

And real action figures, not the strangely bulbous-headed ones that they were apparently proposing for you: after Dragon had mentioned merchandise, you had looked into the kind of things that the Protectorate sold, having not bought much parahuman memorabilia since your infamous Armsmaster underwear as a child and the Alexandria t-shirts, and after you'd seen their preference for enlarged heads and tiny bodies, you weren't sure if you were going to be buying your own when it came out.

Okay, maybe just one. For the sake of having it. For when you retired.

And another for Dad, of course. No more than that, though.

'Hey,' she said, voice quiet enough that it wouldn't carry to the crowds below. 'Long time no see.'

'Hey, I missed you.'

No point in pretending otherwise; you were happy to be open with Vicky. At least, as much as you were happy being open with anyone at all.

'I missed you too. Didn't destroy any gangs in the last few days?'

'Nope, not since the last one.

'You're losing your edge. Wanna go criminal hunting?'

'Well, I wouldn't call it hunting, per se, but ye-'

It was no use; she'd jetted off, and the gaze of the crowd below followed; sighting, you whipped your wings into high gear and followed, allowing the fluorescent green of their glow to cast an oceanic glamour across the people beneath; not bright enough to light things up in the afternoon sun, they were still bright enough to leave a few people squinting.

Especially when you hit the pace that let you zoom past Glory Girl and leave her in the dust. That would teach her for not letting you finish your sentence.

Patrolling along the perimeter of ABB territory ended up being largely uneventful, even as you circled it twice over and ventured a little bit in.

Consensus, you had found when preparing for the patrol, had been never to delve too far into ABB territory without prior approval. While you were unlikely to stumble across Lung himself, Oni Lee was extremely mobile and, unfortunately, the kind of figure who would cause vast amounts of collateral damage very quickly – the PRT was never going to endorse that kind of confrontation unless it was vital beyond all other considerations and had been planned well in advance.

For a Ward, that was even more true despite your own special privileges when it came to combat.

Glory Girl, thankfully, understood. While the two of you would have loved to solve some form of crime, the reality was that you were simply happy to enjoy one another's presence, having not seen each other in too long. Just thinking about it made you wonder how you were going to cope when you went to Atlanta; and then, considering that even if you stayed you would have to deal with it anyway when Vicky left for college in the fall.

Eventually, you ended up not far from where you had confronted Amy the other night, on the far end of the Boardwalk on the very edge of what could most loosely be called ABB territory. In reality, the Boardwalk was mostly off limits and the Empire had been in long term disputes with Coil over the few warehouses and boarded buildings that abutted the end of the tourist strip, but with both of them gone the ABB had leaked slightly from their containment to absorb the most forgettable parts of the city; they hadn't grown large, and you doubted they would expand much more out of a lack of ambition more than anything else, but if it was right there and nobody was going to fight them for it nobody could be surprised that they picked up a new spot so close to a money making hotspot.

In function, however, it was the most boring spot you could possibly find to end a largely uneventful patrol.

And the two of you were playing Frisbee.

'Hey, watch it,' Vicky flinched as she caught the engine block out of the air. 'If you miss and hit something valuable, you're paying for it.'

Frisbee was a flexible definition.

Ever since you had seen Miss Militia take out Iron Rain with a well placed shot, you knew that adding something that you could use from a distance without having to exert the energy that your blaster power took would be useful; especially because focusing the blaster power made it perhaps more dangerous than you would want in some situations.

The memory of bouncing an Empire twin's head off the road and panicking for their life flashed before your eyes, and you focused again, before catching Vicky's throw.

Practising how to throw things, therefore, made sense. You had suggested it to Vicky, mostly with the idea of just throwing things aimlessly into the ocean, but she had been quick to rebuttal.

'First off, dumping stuff in the ocean is illegal. Second, you just cleaned the dock out, so we're not doing that again. Thirdly, how are you supposed to practice your aim if you're just throwing stuff in the sea? You need a target, maybe even one that's human sized. That's me. I'm human sized.'

You couldn't argue. She was human sized.

And so the two of you had grabbed the engine block from an old vehicle which had been left to rot, rust creeping over the chassis at an alarming pace, and you had taken to a game of aerial Frisbee; aim, speed, and also catching was at work. Learning how to catch things was of vital importance; you remembered Rune boomeranging manhole covers at you, and the damage you had caused to the building by simply batting them away. Transitioning to a safer method of defusal had worked then, but you didn't trust your co-ordination to hold you up through whatever the next similar situation was, and learning how to actually catch things that weren't conveniently disc shaped was a good idea too.

Catching the block on Vicky's return throw, you thought that things were going relatively well, all things considered. You had missed one, putting a dent in the same vehicle you'd taken the engine block from in the first place, and almost missed again, forcing Vicky to dive awkwardly, but your catching was exemplary and over time, your aim was slowly improving.

Perhaps Miss Militia's reputation as Brockton Bay's foremost deadeye wasn't going to be challenged anytime soon, but if you ever had to throw something at something else you were probably less likely to send it careening into someone's house after getting some practice, which was all you really wanted.

Any fight you got into that was chaotic enough to need you to throw things was probably chaotic enough that civilian casualties were already out of the question; evacuation would have come long before any such emergency measure.

Eventually, conversation came around to Amy – as you supposed it must, at some point.

'So she's still not talking to you?'

'Nope. Came home, talked a little, then went to her room and has barely been out since. Even skipped school yesterday, Mom was not happy.'

You tried to imagine an angry Carol and decided that you would very much rather not.

'She said she was going to talk to someone, though.'

'She did?'

'Well,' you thought about it and then decided to be honest. 'Not really in that many words but I told her to and she didn't argue about it. Maybe she's just trying to figure out what to say.'

'Maybe. I hope that's it, I'm starting to get a little worried that I kinda wrecked stuff between us.'

While Amy wasn't your friend, at least, not your real friend, you knew that her relationship with Vicky meant a lot to them both and you hoped that you hadn't accidentally exploded it by trying to fix Amy's problems. You knew that if you could convince her to talk to someone, especially if they knew what they were doing, it had a good chance to help – you'd asked yourself a question that confirmed as much a little while ago – but actually getting her to cross that line looked to be a task in itself.

'I think,' Vicky started, 'that if she hasn't said anything by Friday I'm just going to buy her an apology gift and see if I can get her out of her shell that way. Maybe bring things up again after she's had a chance to recover and do it one on one next time.'

The idea wasn't bad, and you told her as much.

'Sounds like a reasonable plan. Give her some time, let her process things at her own pace. From the sounds of it, whatever's on her mind is something serious. Nobody ever made a better choice by rushing it.'

In reality, you weren't convinced of that. Maybe in most situations it was true, but there seemed to be an awful lot of moments in life where striking while the iron was hot became imperative; a moment's indecision the difference between disaster and safety, and not only in the world of parahuman activity.

Some decisions just had to be fast. But this wasn't one of them, at least not as far as you could tell. Amy was a lot of things but dangerous didn't seem to factor among them.

'I'll speak to Gallant again too, maybe he has some ideas. There's a possibility he read something from her emotions while she was angry, and he can get an idea of what it is that set her off and you can avoid it next time.'

Vicky nodded, as if giving permission, and you made a mental note of it.

On her next throw, you caught the engine block perfectly and threw it back before she had a chance to reset position, clunking the thing off her shoulder and sending her spinning backwards in the air from the momentum. She was uninjured, gleaming white fabric of her suit untouched, but there was a scowl on her face; competitive as she was, sportswoman as she was, you were surprised she try to charge the mound and fight you for it.

Instead, she seemed to take it in stride and call an end to the game – with the sun coming down, you decided to head home too and get an early night. After all, you had combat training in the morning, and trying to find Gallant before you forgot what you needed to speak to him about was added to the to-do list.

If you forgot, you were sure Vicky would get to it, but why put even more on her plate if she didn't need it?

Actions Remaining:

- Do First Aid training with the PRT on April 8th

- Go Visit Mom on April 9th

- Follow Armsmaster's Device Advice

- Look up sign language online

- Check in with Gallant about Amy

- Attend combat training on the 6th

- Speak to Theo and find out what he wants

Next update is going to proceed through our first session of combat training and our discussion with Gallant.

Today we got through a few things: spent some time with Vicky, practicing improvised throwing of things, thanked Aegis for his advice on brute training, and began asking after Theo and Aster only to find that something strange went on with Miss Militia. What do we think of that, and how can we pursue the topic without upsetting her or prying into her personal life? We also spoke to Dragon who mentioned that we're currently the most popular Ward in the US, fickle as those ratings might be, and that we might see fit to use that clout for some Political Goals if we are so inclined.

No suggested actions this time, trialling leaving it up to you some more. It is free time after all, and th