Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:07 PM.

Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

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Caiden. Damn. Some small part of Fukuda almost wished this kid hadn't shown up; his record was poor, even by the standards of the other low bars set by Jane and Wilbur, and his attitude was, well....His entrance spoke volumes to that. When asked for a pair of the earbuds, the Director obliged...Though admittedly, it seems he accidentally put a little too much force into it as it slid across the table, gut-checking the boy briefly before landing on the table proper. "Ah, my bad; must've slipped a bit. Been a long day, you know? Glad to have you, Crosspoint." Straight and to the point, completely sliding off the minor incident before a brow could even be raised over it.

Somehow, the Director doubted it was 'family trouble' that held him from being on time, though it wouldn't do him any good bringing that up now; something to talk to his mother about though, certainly. Still, he actually took a seat. Better than some others...And speaking of others, the smallest of The Wards made her quiet debut as she popped from the elevator and scurried off to the side, as if trying to hide herself in the cushions of the couch.

Can't say he was surprised; while he didn't know all the facts, just from meeting her mom Fukuda had a decent idea of her upbringing, because that woman was a certified hardass. Even by his standards. So she was probably concerned with some form of retribution for tardiness. Y'know, for people like Caiden, perhaps he would humor something of that sort...But he doubted Carmen had done anything to earn it. So, giving her a sideways glance, he said nothing. Just the smallest nod, and the glint of an object hurtling through the air; her set of earbuds, of course. He wasn't certain she'd catch it, even if his angle was, as always, impeccable, but even if she didn't, the cushions would serve as a nice landing spot.

Of course, Fukuda was keeping an ear out for other conversation; namely, the one between Wilbur and Andrew. A manipulator and a kid who seemed to be completely lacking in insight. Concerning. Yeah, he'd need to keep an eye on that development for certain. Still, that meant he caught the boy's off-handed remarks on the leadership position, which earned a roll of eyes from the Director. However, back on the topic of leadership, what Sean spoke of caught Fukuda's interest. "You raise a fair point. In an ideal world, you all could deliberate and handle things amongst yourselves. Ultimately, though..." Fukuda's gaze seemed to turn a bit darker in the moment, gazing across all those gathered. "In situations like these, we'll need someone we can trust to make the right calls in the heat of the moment." He quickly pivoted from that topic though, a small and low chuckle escaping the Director. "Still, it's a bit too early to be pointing fingers on that regards, especially with people you've only just met." That last remark seemed pointed towards Andrew, as he gave the motor-mouthed youth a brief look of...Not quite anger, but perhaps irritation.

"...And even then, once you do have a proper leader, I'll still be expecting you all to collaborate properly and work things out as a team. Under good circumstances, the roll of the leader would effectively just be managing the group as best you can on-field, and occasionally being the...Tiebreaker, of sorts." Of course, normally, leaders would also be expected to keep an eye on their fellow members, both moderating them and being there to extend a hand whenever necessary, but...Well, that was just unrealistic for a bunch of messed-up teens like this; he'd leave it to Fashionista.

His attention was broken off from this interactions as -quite shockingly- Jane spoke up to him, inquiring why they in particular were chosen (with a slight assumption of the latest arrivals also being the last). Great. She asked a question where pretty much any answer that had a modicum of the truth would sound bad in some regard. What, was he gonna say 'Oh, we just cast a wide net, and you're the ones who happened to get on board.'? No. And that's not even mentioning Jane herself or Wilbur, who have quite specific reasons they were brought aboard, beyond, of course the kindness of Fukuda's (or more accurately, Vice Director Elton's) heart. Hm...

"Without getting too into it at this juncture, you were all chosen for your own reasons, and in the case of some of you, you approached us." When making that claim, his eyes ever-so-briefly gazed over Andrew, Beverly, Aaliyah and Morgan. A strange bunch, but they were all ones who willingly got involved in this. Somewhere deep in him, a pang of...Something, hit him. The fact only four of them were here under, at least seemingly, honest pretenses stung. The others were practically press-ganged in, even if it didn't look that way for some of the circumstances.

"As for you lot being the last, well....That may be true for now. Complications might've arisen with other applicants, so they may show up in the future." That was the best he could manage without blatantly saying 'Hey, I pretty much got into contact with every Parahuman youth I could get my hands on, and you're the lot that popped up'. It would have to do. Of course, though, Gray Man had to open his damn mouth about them just happening to be the ones whose guardians were willing to sign off for this.

Hell, half the kids here barely had guardians.

"You may have a point there, Wilbur. Most people know the risks with this kind of position, and are rightfully afraid. Still, perhaps we can avoid digging into everyone's circumstances, mmm?" He kept his polite air, but the intention behind this was clear to Will; can it. As for why he would refer to him by his proper name? Probably spite. Sean spoke up about it too, of course using the chance to make a jab at the PRT in the process. Really? Now? "As for your opinion there, Overclock, it's understandable. And while it's true we can make no guarantee of safety, it's in our utmost interests to keep you all safe. Hell, He continued on, a brief laugh escaping him. "you kids are the reason we've got our own Guardians now, here to keep an eye out for you all. And if a guy like Risen can't keep you safe, then I'll eat my tie."

A bit of deflection never hurt; it was easy to make their safety sound more ensured with the Redline Guardians being behind them, especially a guy like Risen. He was pretty much a local legend here, and even foreigners out-of-country knew a bit about the guy. Not just anyone can get cut in half and walk it off. It...Went a bit unspoken, but if a guy like Risen really couldn't keep you safe, then things were pretty bad. Luckily, Fukuda couldn't think of a single thug or villain in Redline who could really, truly, get the edge on this place's resident zombie hero.

The conversation kept flowing for a bit, and he caught the fact that Beverly and Morgan slid off to the side, with her making a small showcase of that ever-so-coveted healing trick and explaining to Workshop the other details of her ability. Annoying, for certain, especially with how not-so-subtly he'd tried to tell her that it wouldn't do anyone any good if she kept talking about it, but not unbearable.

Then Overclock got involved. Of course.

Fukuda, being the more aware of the two, had no need to press Morgan over details of her ability as some method of sussing some deep-seated negative traits. He had initially taken Sean to be a pretty smart kid, having managed himself for a few years on the streets, even if he never really tangled with some proper villains. Guess that called shot was a ways off, because casually asking stuff like that was quite...Pointed. And not in the positive sense. In the case of Beverly, at least she'd been rather broad about it, and in her case the thing she was after was blatantly obvious; her absurd sense of curiosity. His statements...Didn't give off the same sense, not in the slightest.

Clearing his throat a bit in an attempt to regain some of the attention, Fukuda spoke up. "Perhaps you should trust her to disclose details like that at her own discretion. Ultimately, I'll trust her to make her own decisions and understand her own limits, and I expect everyone to do the same for your fellow members." There, clear the air a bit; shift the focus from the singular girl and onto the group as a whole. Prying where others didn't want you to pry, in a room with a bunch of volatile, powered teenagers, was a recipe for disaster. One that he doubted Sean concerned himself with much, but that wasn't an excuse for it.

Ironically enough, the statement tied in well with what Fukuda could judge was the intent behind Overclock's long-awaited introduction; trying to seem less like the hero Overclock, and more like, well, Sean. A fellow kid. Perhaps that'd numb Andy's fan-factor a touch. They both could hope...

Abruptly, as he finished his long-winded intro to his fellow Wards, the Director's cell went off. Raising a single finger to invoke at least some level of silence, he stalked away from the table for a moment, sliding the phone out from his suit's folds and seeing who exactly was calling at a time like this.

...Crap.

No hesitation, he answered, raising the phone to his ear while his eyes remained set on the teenagers, silently enforcing their own silence, at least for now. It made each sentence and word that came from the Director seem all the louder.

"This is Director Fukuda. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Brief chatter on the other end, going unheard by The Wards. "...You're kidding me. Right now?" For once, Atsushi seemed to make little effort to hide his irritation, a small scowl curling onto his face. "...Can I at least get a heads-up? How long do we have?" More words exchanged. Fukuda's next words were barely a whisper, certainly meant to go unheard by the kids, though perhaps those more perceptive might catch it."An hour?...Give or take an hour?!" The dialogue from the other end seemed to grow in volume slightly, and in the strictness of the tone. With a sigh of defeat, Fukuda gave one more response before hanging up.

"...I'll see to it that our Guardians are alerted, and that The Wards...Get prepared." After the call ended, he didn't even spare the kids a glance as he immediately called up someone else.

"Elton?" Whoever was on the other end sounded like they didn't take kindly to that. Scrunching his brow, he replied. "Okay, Fashionista. Get your ass down here, with the cards. We've got a bit of an emergency." What sounded like more complaining from the other end, to which the Director replied with a clear edge in his voice, seemingly just as irritated as Fashionista on the other end was. "Yeah, I know this is bad! You don't need to tell me! Listen, I'll..." Composing himself again, he straightened his voice up once more. "I'll make it clear to the higher-ups that this isn't tolerable. At the very least, maybe we can get some recompense for this shit..." Shouting could distinctly be heard from his cell, though with how quickly Fukuda had pulled it from his ear and cupped it in both hands, the exact words were too muffled to be made out. Eventually, when he was certain that was over, he brought it back up.

"Of course I meant for them! I'm not that shallow, Rachel. Just...Get down here." With that, the call had ended, no doubt with the room's eyes now on the Director. Christ alive, this was a miserable start...Begrudgingly, he approached his seat once more. What was already a stoic, unreadable expression now had a certain edge to it; a war face.

"Looks like things will be getting interesting today, Wards."

"I know from personal experience that the Mover life can make things seem slow, but there are far too many ways teleporting into a highly-secure meeting between unmasked Parahumans could go terribly wrong for everyone involved."
‘Excuse me, what?’ was her instinctual thought as she turned towards the voice of what she assumed to be another mover from the statement. She didn’t appreciate their view and instantaneous judgment on her entrance. Had that been the plan? Absolutely not but it would be rather pathetic of PRT though and even their fellow group if they could not handle one surprise instance. She watched as he ran one hand through his brown hair before speaking once more while she watched him with a raised eyebrow. "Honestly, it only takes one twitchy trigger-finger to get someone seriously hurt.".
‘Oh, so that is what this is about. He is one of those trigger happy people that instantly respond to every little thing and almost decided to take action when obviously anything can happen when putting children and teenagers in one room. Got it. What happened to expect the unexpected? Isn’t that kind of the job we all either signed up for or were forced into?’
"Never mind. Far be it from me stop you."
‘No, just quick enough to judge and say your opinion when no one asked for it or had an issue.’, Aaliyah thought, physically lightly biting her tongue not to respond back to the situation and forcing herself not to roll her eyes. She had a feeling he was going to continue to grate on her nerves in the future with that mightier than thou attitude so she might as well get used to it now.

She folded her hands and placed them into her lap, now feeling a lot less relaxed or positive about the situation she volunteered for and letting a familiar mask slip into place. It was obvious it would be better to just observe from this point as she usually did and gain information that way, see who would be the best to place trust in as well as see who would need to be cautiously worked with when in action. Talking just got her into trouble and right now, she needed to be smart. The last thing they needed was one of them getting riled up. She watched as one of the girls helped another from the pile of confetti, a little shocked that someone was actually buried in there. ’Okay, maybe mister overly opinionated had a reason to be slightly trigger happy if two surprises had happened together but still.’
The girl that had been assisting introduced herself, giving her chosen hero name and a brief description of her power but healing. Now that was interesting for sure and made her curious on exactly how it worked.

"Wow, already a pretty colorful cast of characters, huh?" That caught her attention, pulling her gaze away from the mess and the assisting party on the other side of the table to a finely dressed guy possibly a few years younger doing a slight confetti removal. "In more ways than one. Kudos by the way Aaliyah, lot of panache in that entrance." If she wasn’t a master at spotting perfectly crafted masks and falsely positive body movements, she might have been impressed by the manipulation to appear welcoming but it made her weary of him. However, that was until he spoke which she found herself hanging on his words without notice as he started to introduce himself. It started off just fine at first if not a little date advertisement like but then it got a little strange near the end and…’I think I’m gonna be sick.’, Aaliyah thought, her hand flying to her mouth at the unpleasant feelings the break gave but that wasn’t even close to the emotional problems she was facing.

Everything felt so far away, she could barely hear half of the apology that was being given as she went a bit in her own bubble and she found a pair of headphones being placed before her which she used as a focal point to pull it together. Her hand curled tightly into a fist under the table as she tried to get a grip of the strangling fear crushing her at having control taken from even for a moment and forcefully keeping the shivers under wraps. Outwardly, Aaliyah’s body language seemed relaxed as though just waiting for the symptoms to pass and after a moment, she pulled her hand from her mouth and calmly reached for the headphones before placing them in her ears even though she desperately wanted to snatch them up and jam them in as soon as possible. She didn’t want to be preserved as rude if the whole incident was actually an accident and she would give Will the benefit of the doubt this time since she didn’t know about the headphones. Mistakes happen and she could roll with the punches even if she was terrified…it wasn’t like she hadn’t pushed through bad situations before. She looked to Will as he apologized and gave a dazzling smile, ”It’s alright, no harm, no fowl. It might be better to give a warning before attempting a test in the future.”

"Well, uh- That's crazy. Huh? Yeah, okay...Hi.", was the awkward start to the next introduction but she definitely appreciated Jane for trying to move past it and keep things normal. It was also neat to see the group had two tinkers or she was going to assume the confetti burial gal was also a tinker with the vibes she gave. It was definitely looking up for them a bit and while she definitely wasn’t hoping for major injury, at least they had a healer and someone to hook them up if healing wasn’t enough or was too much for Memento. It was always nice to have a back up plan in a chaotic moment after all since one or the other could be down for the count. She hadn’t caught the name of the seemingly overexcited younger guy suddenly speaking up but there were some…well, cringe worthy moments out of the conversation that Fukuda addressed…at least Andrew was trying. Aaliyah herself hadn’t been around many people and even less so people her age so she was probably just as awkward in her own way, being closed off from people so she couldn’t really judge. Her fake smile to mask pain from earlier lightened softly into something more genuine as she responded, ”Thank you for the compliment though the portal entrance wasn’t exactly the plan. I would rather not go more into it than that.” She definitely wasn’t going to own up to being petrified of small spaces and the thought of doing it twice had been more than worth the risk of punishment or problems since she hadn’t been able to use rational thought at that moment.

His next questions were valid but the name Overclock for sure caught her attention, a split moment of excitement at the thought of the hero being here, someone who truly was there to help people and understood the true meaning of what hero stood for but then she put two and two together. ‘Oh…now I know what they mean about never meeting one’s heroes. It’s too bad the personality doesn’t match such admirable actions. At least I can respect his work.’ she thought to herself but was not looking forward to if he was going to be leader automatically while already being poorly judged. He was a solo hero which was suddenly a bit more concerning than before as well in her opinion. Aaliyah hoped they gave everyone a chance to prove themselves because sometimes certain people just were naturally better at leading in a way that worked for everyone. If it happened to be Overclock than great but they should at least view the potential in others vote together. At least Fukuda seemed to be in support of just not picking someone out of the gate.

It seems she wasn’t the only one that decided to cut it close or maybe they were over the mark at this point. It seemed like so much had happened, they couldn’t be on time or thirty minutes late and she wouldn’t know. The new guy seemed to be her age like a few others but it was clear from his attitude and words at the director that he was most likely one of the ones that hadn’t exactly signed up to be here. At least Caiden seemed to speak easily and was in his element, relaxed and quiet which could mean he was obversevant like she was. Their other teammate however was young, very young and had simply given a brace filled smile and a small wave which Aaliyah gave in return before the girl made her way to the couch. She hoped the girl did not feel awkward with all the eyes of the group on her and turned her own attention elsewhere, playing with some of the leftover confetti on the table. It seemed like the least she could do. Jane brought up a question on why they were picked and to be honest, Aaliyah kept to the interest of flicking confetti. It was obvious that some didn’t really choose so they were automatic and her guess was that everyone left were the only ones that had permission or were available currently. She could be wrong but that seemed the most likely if you used deductive reasoning. It seemed Andrew preferred Andy as he officially introduced himself along with a few facts though the bringing up of the leader thing again almost had her face palm or groan. The poor Director having to deal with repeating himself. Oh well, it was what it was.

Aaliyah didn’t really pay full attention to the conversations, picking up bits and pieces until Memento spoke up to the girl she had dubbed Confetti until she could snag her official name about scratching her to demonstrate or at least the my healing before asking made it seem like that. She watched the process, the red decoloration being applied but then moved over which made her understand exactly what ‘healing’ meant and she instantly felt her skin crawl, her hands subconsciously rubbing her outer wrists. The copies did help to not make the situation as horrifying but it was the whole premise that made her think back to this girl's trigger and none of what she could think of were good. If she was a betting woman, she would say abuse at least in some form and that made her upset on many different levels. It made her want to protect this girl and ultimately, she was going to be more careful than anyone so that she never had to use her powers for her. Aaliyah would let Jane do her work before Memento had a chance. That was a sacrifice she couldn’t accept. What if she shared more than just the transfer of the damage but the pain as well? There were just too many details not being stated here. If she didn’t get the pain then, maybe….and definitely if it was only a copy. If pain was involved in any way, it was going to be a hard no.

For all the crap she gave Overclock in her head, she was so glad she wasn’t the one that had to ask these hard questions because those were the same ones on the tip of her tongue. It would decide a lot of factors and it seemed he was weighing the same options. It did give him some bonus brownie points and maybe he wouldn’t actually grate on her nerves as much as she thought. It could have just been a misunderstanding so she would give him the benefit of the doubt even if he probably already had a negative opinion of her. Anyone who instantly looked to care and showed such concern for another was alright in her book. They say you really can’t do a chance at a second impression but Overcl….no, Sean had taken a pretty great shot at it. He had cared for Memento safety, had handled Andy well, and had officially introduced himself opening up a level of trust so in turn, she would respect that and give some back and let some of the earlier worries dampen a bit. The Director was trying to curb more questions which she could understand but she had to side with Sean on this one, some details were better shared. He wasn’t asking for a backstory but another layer of protection to make sure that she didn’t push herself too far as some people didn’t know their full limits.

There was no getting in a word to reply though as Fukuda’s phone rang, a serious conversation taking place. One that ultimately involved them, the so-called plan probably being changed due to whatever was happening or going to within the next hour. When Fashionista’s name came up, that piqued her interest and caused a bit of nervous anxiety to crawl in. She would be moving in later, the offer being rejected at first but after being told about the headquarters arrangement being a basement and hearing that the offer wasn’t only to her, she had said that she would move in but only after the first day so she could prepare. Aaliyah hadn’t expected to see her this early but that was silly after all. Hearing it was bad though made her more anxious than excited for what was ahead but everyone has jitters on their first day right? If they supported each other and had the Guardians around then maybe everything would be fine. At least the Director wasn’t wrong in his statement, no matter what they were preparing for….it should be interesting.

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:07 PM.

Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

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Well, that was awkward! Standing idly beside Morie, Beverly passively absorbed the statement Andy made that...She thinks was meant for the group as a whole? That alone was a bit funny, even if she herself didn't always have exactly outstanding social skills. That, and the fact that it was about the closest he'd gotten to acknowledging her beyond a wave. Had she done something wrong? Or...Oh God, it was the confetti thing, wasn't it? Oh, it had to be....Probably thought she was just some weirdo they happened to snatch up for this thing who could only make dumb party favors instead of anything useful.

Maybe that wasn't far off.

She could feel her mood declining again just at the thought of that, but luckily, her intrusive thoughts were cut through with a new arrival. Another one? Honestly, she was sorta surprised; Bev expected it to be a smaller team than what it was becoming, but the more the merrier! She hoped, at least...

The first thing she recognized was just how natural he acted. With the others, at least to some extent, Beverly had the sense they were a bit out of their depth just as she was, but not with Caiden. He strode in with confidence, off-handedly referring to the Director in a way that, while she couldn't quite pinpoint why, felt a tad mocking in tone. But on the bright side, he seemed to completely ignore the horrific confetti incident that had taken place on one side of the table.

She was...Conflicted. On one hand, Bev was in awe of how easily he carried himself even in a situation like this. She liked to believe she came off smooth and natural like that, but knew internally that she certainly did not. And he didn't make any fuss about the mess she made, thankfully. She was painfully aware how weird and dumb it had been for the people who were here for it, much less the newcomers. Still, though, with that casual, calm approach also came a sense of arrogance, or...Maybe cockiness was the right word? Similarly to how she saw Will act, but more...Tangible. Ugh, she was bad at putting stuff like this together. Point is, he was a mixed bag; one she wasn't eager to reach for quite yet. After all...

While she had nearly tugged at Memento to give the explanation that was practically eating at Bev, the elevator dinged once more....Though the occupant was quick to dart out of sight and out of mind. A girl way younger than most of the folks here, she could tell that much right off the bat. After a brief smile and a wave (Braces? Yikes, she could've related to that a few years back too...), she scurried off to the side, securing herself a position on the comfortable sofa in one of the edges of the lounge.

Workshop was eager to return to the subject at hand that felt like it kept getting deflected by each little thing occurring, but she couldn't help but found herself stopped when Jane spoke up, asking a simple question; why them?....W-Wasn't it the same for everyone? Looking around a little perplexed, she came to the sudden realization that, perhaps, not everyone was actually in the same boat here....

If she felt ostracized before, the feeling intensified with this discovery.

If the others weren't here for the kind of reasons she was, well...W-Why were they here? Her mind began filtering through some options, but she immediately ground that to a halt with a harshened brow, physically tossing those thoughts back. It...There had to be a good explanation for everyone. But...She noticed none of the others (beyond Andrew, which honestly, even in her limited interactions with the guy, didn't surprise her) were eager to speak up about their circumstances. Even Jane herself, who had brought it up...

For once, Beverly didn't feel like speaking up.

Y'know, speaking of Andy....Bev could feel her face shift from that forced expression to hold the tide on those vile thoughts to sheer confusion. Did...Did he just compare this whole thing to a gosh-darn Found Family troupe? She couldn't help but stare, baffled. Was....Was he serious? I mean, she appreciated a good movie or maybe some comics or the like from time to time, but they're just stories. Don't exactly apply 1:1 on real life most times. Her opinion was definitely starting to shift on 'Hope'. Sure, she thought he was maybe a little off before, but I mean, what Parahuman isn't? Scientifically speaking, at least, heh....But now, he came off as strangely disconnected from things, and eager for approval from anyone, though especially from a few....Including Overclock, 'course. Sheesh.

Didn't help that immediately after Mr. Director spoke up about the leadership thing (speaking of, talk about scary! Bev couldn't imagine telling anyone what to do, much less a group of Capes!), he went right back around to voting for Overclock. She didn't even recognize the sound as it left her mouth, but she actually scoffed a bit. Seriously, what was his obsession? Plenty of other hero-types to idolize, instead of the Friendly Neighborhood Trespasser. Hmph...

However, she didn't get to dwell on those bitter feelings for long as he...Also asked about their pay? Didn't he even read the contracts? I mean, sure, Bev had skimmed, but even she knew how much they were making! And it was no small sum, either...A bit awkward, truth be told, when she'd have to hide all this extra cash behind her mum's back and not do anything too big with her pay. Maybe she'd just funnel it into more stuff to let her Tinker...

Oh! Or there was that new snow-cone place, Dr. Freezy's! That'd be nice....Was it weird she wanted snow cones when it was cold as tits outside? Maybe.

At this point, it caught her completely off-guard when Morgan referred to her again. Right, the Powers! Admittedly, she wasn't expecting what Memento asked for, but she mentally shrugged it off. If she couldn't trust the girl to give her a nick, then they wouldn't make very good teammates, right? And besides, Bev had already decided she was a friend to her; no need to hesitate with something like this. "Go right ahead!" With a smile, she stuck her forearm out. Truth be told, she barely felt a thing when Morie gave her scratch. Partially because of how little she'd put into it, and also because, admittedly, Beverly got pretty used to bumps and scrapes and the sort in her early days of Tinkering. Even a few scars, luckily out of sight and out of mind. Some of those were downright embarrassing...

She watched intently, not sure what to really expect. In movies and stuff, healing always came with fancy glowing lights and whatnot. This?...Not so much. Granted, the sudden dissolving of her minor mark, only to see it crop up on Memento's arm, elicited a small "Oh!" from the Tinker gal. Transferal of wounds? Wait, no, that didn't quite add up. Something more...Intrinsic going on, but she doubted it was something Morie recognized, given that she herself considered it something so simple. This puzzled look on Beverly's face snapped quickly as Memento spoke up again, trying to explain her power more in-depth.

Even as Morie thought she'd prattled on for too long, the enthralled look on Beverly's face spoke otherwise. She had taken it all in, and was equal parts excitedly intrigued by the peculiar complexities of her ability...And concerned by the very nature of it, like self-harm getting taken to some weird extreme. Still, the sparkle of interest in her eyes was genuine, as was the concern that was soon to follow. For now, though...

"Gosh, that's crazy! So, uh, well, I can't say for sure, cuz, well, it ain't my power 'n all, but I think ya do a bit more than jus' take on wounds! If yer deal really deals with biomass manipulation, it prolly just generates an identical wound for simplicity's sake; yer just handin' off raw material for the, uh, healee's body to work with! Ya could prolly control where it takes that material from if ya put your mind to it!" Beverly beamed, unaware just how much she had prattled on for that, before awkwardly continuing with a new edge of worry in her voice.

"B-but, well...Even if ya got copies, the fact it's still harmin' your body means ya should use it conservative-like. For extreme stuff, y'know? And, heck" She couldn't help but giggle a bit, still in excitement of this thought. "Maybe ya let Janey take a crack at it first! Ooh, I know I'd dig some metal digs, hehe...Maybe, like, multi-tool fingers or somethin'. Aw, that'd be cool as heck!" For a while, Bev seemed ensnared in this thought yet again, wiggling her digits in front of her in amusement. Gosh, that kinda add-on would be super convenient! Though, she did like her normal fingers too....Difficult call.

However, when Overclock spoke up about her ability, from equal parts perhaps slightly unfair annoyance at him, and a desire to respect Memento's own agency in the matters, she puffed up and spoke after Fukuda, too, had tried to push away from such a topic. "Well, all I'll say is that I trust her to handle her own. After all, we're gonna be a team, yeah? I think we all could use the benefit of the doubt for each other, y'know?" Unsubtly, she glanced to Overclock for that last bit, just as much referring to Memento here as she was to herself. Honestly...He seemed to have a talent for taking one thing and blowin' it outta proportions!

Luckily, a nudge from the lady in question snapped her from that negative headspace. "Huh?" Glancing back, she saw her give a nod in the direction of the little braces-gal who had popped up. Oh! Well, that was something she could get behind. And besides, that couch did look pretty comfy. Trotting away from the main table alongside Memento, they both took a seat in the spacious sofa next to Carmen, though Bev did her sit-down a bit more...Audibly.

"Plop! Oooh, they are as comfy as I thought!"

Adjusting her new comfortable seating, she felt it was only right to introduce herself just as Morie had; oh, and speaking of, that name was so cute! It even had a sort of naming thing with her Cape name; Memento Morie....Oh. Oh! While she didn't verbally say anything, after that lightbulb moment, a grin placed on her face for a few moments. Way more clever than Workshop...

Oh, introductions! Whipping around to face Carmen, she gave a bright smile. "Hiya, name's Beverly! Bev for friends. Which we can be, if ya want." She gave a little wink alongside the comment, trying to pull on her natural charm. She's had a few people call her cute before, though she never really knew how to respond to stuff like that. But hey, if it maybe made her feel more approachable (as she always hoped she was), all the better!

For a moment, the three sat in a small silence as Sean was busy introducing himself. Huh...Weird to think it was only now she knew his name, after that crazy incident. Well, didn't change her thoughts on the matter, even if he was acting pretty nice now....Okay, so MAYBE Bev was being a tad harsh. But so was he! As long as he was gonna keep actin' like that around her, she'd play her side too! However, that train of thought was shattered by an abrupt ring near the end of his introduction. Wait, was it...?

Bev almost reached into her coat to try and find her cell, also in the process only now realizing she had still been wearing it. She just about set to taking it off when the surprisingly serious nature of the actual call involving Mr. Fukuda caught her. Something was definitely happening, and she didn't have a good feeling about it. Against her will, her hands had idly found their way back to the Confetti Sphere (name pending) and had begun fiddling with it once more. Strangely enough, she noticed it didn't feel any lighter even after the load it had dropped on her. Odd...

Just as soon as that call ended, he started up another one with....Elton? Oh, Miss Fashionista! Just hearing the name brought a smile; that lady was like Fukuda's polar opposite, which she supposed was fitting, given her position of Vice Director. Apparently he was getting her to come down, though not after what sounded like a bit of a shouting match on the other end. Yikes! Eventually, though, the Director took his seat once more, and gazed across those present.

"Looks like things will be getting interesting today, Wards."

Something about the statement caused Beverly's anxious energy about the whole thing to spike. What did that mean?! Was something serious happening? Were they in trouble somehow? She had picked up on him bringing up the Guardians, how were they involved? Too many variables playing in her head, with nothing concrete enough to work with. She eventually settled to taking a deep, steadying breath.....Just hope for the best.

And prepare for the worst.

She kept tinkering.

Much to Carmen’s relief, the chatter continued on without interruption upon her entrance. Only a few waves, some surprised looks, and a singular “hello” were thrown her way. The director didn’t even seem to notice her. … Or maybe he did, since he threw her a pair of earbuds. Carmen fumbled with them for a moment, glancing around as she sat on the couch. What were these for? Everyone else seemed to be already wearing them, so she put them in her ears. Were they a headset? Like in spy movies? They didn’t seem to block any sound, so she decided that was it. Headset. Right.

Carmen waved back to Andy, not quite wanting to interrupt the very animated conversation going on. They seemed to be talking about… who they were? How they got here? There was a slew of introductions and one very cringy thing said by Andy (Carmen could barely keep from rolling her eyes). But she elected not to respond, instead sitting on her couch. She had expected the Director to be angry with her for being late, but he seemed to be nonchalant, which was good. There was confetti everywhere, which was strange. It didn’t look like they had thrown a welcome party.

An older girl sat next to Carmen, followed by her… friend, maybe? Bev and Morie. “Mine’s Carmen. It’s… nice to meet you!” She held out a hand for a polite handshake. One seemed enthusiastic and bubbly, and the other seemed quiet. A strange mix, but they seemed to be nice. They had an interesting look in their eyes. Was that… no, it was pity. An ugly feeling settled in Carmen’s stomach, twisting. Out of the corner of her eye, a boy gave a wide smile to her- in direct contrast to how cold he’d been acting to everybody else. In the Director-imposed silence, she contemplated her position in this room of wannabe heroes.

God, she might as well have been wearing pigtails and holding a teddy bear for the way they all looked at her. They were being so nice, but it wasn’t comforting. It was mocking. They didn’t intend it that way, but she felt it like nails on a chalkboard. It didn’t show much on her face, but she still felt that twisting. She was familiar with that feeling. She’s so young to be going through this. Oh, and she’s so young… What did they think she had done to get here? Why did they think she was here? She wasn’t like them. She wasn’t a criminal. She hadn’t been forced to do anything by anyone.

Well, maybe she had. It hadn’t been that much of a choice. Her mom had called the PRT, arranged a meeting, and signed the papers, all without Carmen’s input. She had known but didn’t argue, wasn’t asked for her opinion. Maybe she was less like them than she had thought. These kids were heroes, people with hero names and powers they understood. And she was a thirteen-year-old girl who had been signed up and thrown into a world she didn’t understand. While she was having her small crisis, Carmen listened to Director Fukuda’s phone conversation with an open ear. She intuitively knew to shut up whenever adults spoke, so she did, keeping her lips zipped and ears peeled. What he said was… concerning. Her anxiety spiked. What on Earth was going on?

“... Things are getting interesting? Mr. Fukuda, is something wrong? Are- are we getting attacked? By villains?” If Carmen had further dissected his conversation she would have understood that it likely wasn’t that, but the idea concerned her. God, fighting? This soon? She didn’t even know how to fight with her power yet.

“Um, but, since I think I didn’t get to it… I’m Carmen Foster, but I guess I’ll be V to everybody else. I’m 13, I go to Redline Middle, my mom signed me up for this, and my power lets me make stuff. Objects. I'll show you.” Carmen stood as she said it. With an almost unnoticeable flash of light and smoke, a basketball appeared in Carmen’s hands. She chucked it at the opposite wall, letting it bounce around the room, but then curled her fingers and watched it vanish into that same fog. She sat down on the couch again, watching the room warily for reactions. People had been impressed with her power. Would they be?

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022; 6:08 PM
Location(s): Redline, PRT Headquarters

---

---

Man, he’d thought the Wards were likely to be a colorful bunch, and well, it turned out he was even more correct than he’d thought. Still, it wasn’t all good as the Director tried to pass off his irritation as an accident by giving Caiden a false apology for his toss. For his part, Caiden shrugged it off and donned the headphones. As far as he was concerned, this was a win in his book, after all, he’d wanted to get under the Director’s skin and he’d managed that quite well. “Not a problem,” he replied, meeting Fukuda’s eyes with a knowing grin. Letting the expression fade to a relaxed amusement, Caiden turned his gaze around the room casually taking in the expressions and body language of his peers–young though some of them might be. Most only took stock of him for an instant, but some lingered.

One, the older boy with blue eyes, seemed to be taking his measure before dismissing him. Another, a girl with red eyes and long hair spilling over her shoulders–the one with confetti still clinging to her clothes–seemed to lean away from him ever-so-subtly, before her eyes moved away. Chuckling under his breath he turned his attention to the kid who sat far-too-obviously next to the Director.

Leaning back into his chair as he regarded the young man, Caiden made an assessment, then turned to watch the power demonstration of one of the girls. Short red-brown hair and a quiet, almost hesitant, demeanor. Clothes were unassuming, or at least tried to be. To Caiden however something was obvious, she was using them to hide, like a barrier against the world. A wall between herself and others. Shy perhaps? Worried about what people thought? Self-conscious or just overly cautious?

As he considered her bearing, he almost missed the demonstration, but as he processed the details of such he found himself raising an eyebrow.

‘Well that’s interesting’ he thought, even as the gears of his mind unconsciously turned every one of her sentences, her tone, her body language, and the details of her power over and over. In a moment he made a hypothesis, she wasn’t shy, but guarded instead. Something about how she was opening up to the group by degrees, but simultaneously remaining conservative with her social energy just tipped off that instinct in him. He decided then and there that he wouldn’t push her. Then the crimson-eyed girl spoke up, a look of rapt attention turning to awe and fascination as she quickly gave her thoughts on the demonstration.

‘Biokinesis,’ he thought to himself, ‘...that could be useful…if–’ the thought cut off as he realized that it simply wouldn’t be wise to jump to conclusions. He didn’t know these people yet, as interesting and–to an extent–well-intentioned as they seemed. Besides, considering the concerns that the tinker–he just had a feeling based on her demeanor–and the quick-to-assume blue-eyed fellow brought up it would be worth knowing more about the power before even considering its usefulness to the team.

As he mulled that over he tuned out Fukuda’s lame attempts to redirect attention as if that could ever be truly effective. Fortunately for the Director, several other things happened as he spoke. An exceptionally young girl exited the elevator, and greeted them, before she promptly hid on a couch in the corner. As everyone’s attention refocused, the other tinker–this one obvious because of the roughshod mechanical arm–asked a rather important question. Of course, Caiden paid more attention to the delivery, even as he deliberately kept his eyes from drifting over to the girl on the couch even as the tall tinker and the so-called healer joined her in the corner.

He wanted to shake his head as more than a few of the Wards tried to make the girl feel welcome. ‘Too much attention, and for the wrong reasons,’ he thought even as he let his gaze dart to–ah Carmen. Her body language was clear: Discomfort, frustration, anxiety. The lack of those emotions on her face was just a testament to Carmen’s desire to be polite. It was a kindness that he wasn’t sure the others deserved, unthinking as they had been how their actions might impact their youngest member.

All at once a voice he hadn’t heard up until that moment broke the relative silence, proclaiming that Overclock–oh so that’s who the blue-eyed judge was–should be their leader. At this, Caiden’s eyes seemed to flash with amusement even as placed his hands behind his head and settled in to watch the spectacle.

For much of the time while the Director’s ‘pet’ replied, stumbling over his words for an instant, Caiden just stared straight into Fukuda’s face with a practiced smile. It was simultaneously piercing, smug, and satisfied all at once. As if to say ‘hilarious that you signed up for this.’ At the same time he considered the cyborg tinker’s words, before discarding them. It didn’t really matter why they were all here. After all, for those like him who had been forced in one way or another, they’d simply want to leave those reasons behind. On the other hand, those who had volunteered wouldn’t necessarily want to make anyone else feel like they were implying that they were better than them by revealing that fact.

It was honestly a funny little quirk of how society conditioned people to interact with one another. Besides, Overclock was right, it would’ve bee impossible to get his mom to sign off on the Wards program without–....

For an instant there was a flash of email logs in his mind’s eye, and then red and silver flashes. Caiden’s smile vanished, his eyes closed, and for a moment his relaxed air faltered completely as tension contorted his muscles subtly. Taking a deep, quiet breath he let the feelings and memories pass and then focused in on the events going on around him. The past didn’t matter, it was the present that was important.

As he tuned back in, he word Overclock dismiss the idea of being a leader–or even picking one so early on. Caiden nodded his approval, a more serious expression having settled onto his features, though he had again relaxed. Of course, Overclock wasn’t done holding the floor it seemed as the once solo hero stood up and properly introduced himself.

‘Sean huh,’ he thought, stowing away the name for future use along with ‘Wilbur’–aka Will–Beverly, and Carmen. So too did he stow away the subtle dig that Sean had aimed at the PRT as an organization. That was something he could certainly get behind. Once Sean had finished, Director Fukuda finally managed to get a proper word in edge-wise. It was all pretty standard shit, nothing terribly unexpected or interesting. Still, the notes about a leader, and the way Fukuda presented each piece of information was something that Caiden kept a close eye on because, if he were being honest he might be the only person in the room who ought to fit into that role.

Everyone else was either too set in their ways, too in their own head, or just not at all suited to that kind of role–and that was without considering that Will was a master who could certainly not be trusted with the position. Not that he disliked the kid. Further, Caiden noticed how the Director’s eyes grazed over a few specific individuals as he brushed off the issue of why they’d been chosen.

‘I see, really playing your hand there aren’t you Mr. Fukuda,’ Caiden thought, his relaxed smile returning. Of course, before the Director could go on to explain the precise purpose of their first gathering, his phone rang. Based on the man’s expressions and the annoyance he displayed, it appeared that whoever was calling wasn’t someone he could ignore.

Caiden leaned forward in his seat, his gaze following the Director as he stood and began to argue over the phone. At the same time he let his attention wander slightly, taking in Fukuda’s words even as he made note of how the others were responding. Partially mirroring their worry, as well as finding himself somewhat disappointed, Caiden’s expression naturally shifted into a frown. Then the second call, the abject yelling over the phone, the clear frustration and exasperation in the Director’s every move.

Apparently this was all very last minute and exceptionally troublesome. Finally, Fukuda hung up and gave them a series of rather vague comments. How professional. Caiden let out a solitary chuckle and then rose from his seat and stretched. Before he’d said anything, Carmen unexpectedly spoke up. All the while, Caiden darted his eyes briefly at the dark-skinned girl with the afro. She’d been silent throughout and he couldn’t help but be particularly curious as to why. Perhaps she was like him in a way and liked to get a feel for things before interjecting, honestly, he doubted it. He found it far more likely that she just hadn’t felt a need to speak up and so had been relegated to the role of an observer if a temporary one.

Turning his gaze back to Carmen in almost the same instant he gave her a small smile before shifting his attention back to Fukuda. It was only then that he spoke up, putting his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the chair behind him.

“Seems like you’ve got quite the first day in store for us. Care to share, Director?”

As he met Fukuda’s gaze, Caiden’s expression, his demeanor, smile–and even that maddening look in his eyes–practically screamed ‘it’s rude not to share.’ At the same time, he somehow seemed to be daring the Director to call him out when all the attention was on Fukuda himself–especially considering that much of that attention was filled with nervous energy borne of uncertainty.

Caiden had to admit, the best part about this gig might just be keeping the Director perpetually on the defensive.

---

Morie couldn't help but smile as she watched Beverly's genuine curiosity take hold of her, bringing something up that Morie herself hadn't considered much--that maybe she didn't have to mimic a wound she healed. It was something she had never tried since she had always just assumed the copying was the way the ability worked. Considering the other aspects of her power, it was a fair idea.
"Hm... something to look into..." she said with a small nod. Her smile grew, both a quiet attempt to soothe any of Bev's worries, and also because of her continued apparent fascination with the idea of having a bionic arm.
Morie's smile faded as she turned and blinked at Overclock's questions, taken by surprise mostly by the concerned tone. That was... nice--though as she processed the questions, she knew he wouldn't like the answers. As she thought about how to word her reply, the director came in for something of a save, earning him a silent, internal 'thank you' that would never reach him. Morie glanced around, wondering how many others had heard what she had said, and she met eyes with Aaliyah for a moment--more concern directed Morie's way clear in her expression.
She was making people worry. While it was kind of a nice feeling--this was already more concern than she had received in her last two parahuman groups--she definitely didn't want them stressing over details like this. She considered lying, or maybe bending the truth. Make it sound less... bad? They'd find out how it functioned eventually though, so there was no long-term benefit from that dishonesty. Bev's defense helped, though.
The pain... well, it was what it was. Morie felt like she had experienced it all at this point already--that didn't necessarily make it not there, but she assumed it was easier for her to deal with than it was for anyone she healed. And, more importantly, she always had the option to just ditch the body to get away from it, only experiencing some phantom pain for a short time after. The bottom line was that the actual damage of an injury was essentially irrelevant to her. It would be senseless for her to not use her ability to heal someone because she was afraid of some momentary pain. The concerns were kind and understandable, but Morie would never agree with them.
That was... a lot of thoughts to try to put into words, though.
The girl glanced between Overclock and Aaliyah with a faint and apologetic smile, giving them a slow, small shrug.

Seated next to the younger girl now, she responded far better than Morie was anticipating. The older girl lit up a bit, accepting her handshake. "Nice to m-meet you too, Carmen," she said, wincing ever-so-slightly at her failure to keep herself from stuttering. Not that Morie felt she should be particularly concerned with how she came off to the young girl, but... it still felt kind of embarrassing and uncool. She scratched her nose for a moment in an attempt to hide the mild onset of timidness in her smile, thankful she had gotten Bev to come over as well.
Overclock spoke again, going into his own introduction, winning Morie's attention due to their earlier brief interaction. Seemed like he was another one who had little issues speaking out, giving quite a bit of info on himself. Sean--the person behind the Overclock name. And she noticed him throw a smile in Carmen's direction. Mhm, he seemed nice.
A cellphone rang, quickly revealed to be the director's. Morie paid little mind at first, more focused on thinking about what she could or should say to Carmen, but her attention was quickly taken again thanks to the director's tone. The words he spoke just before hanging up got a bit of adrenaline to start going through Morie's body--"...I'll see to it that our Guardians are alerted, and that The Wards...Get prepared."
Morie perked up further as he called Fashionista--Rachel, who she had been living under the care of since she had arrived in Redline. The train of thought was almost enough to distract her from the rather frantic conversation the two were having. It sounded... concerning, to say the least.
Carmen stood, voicing her worry and giving a quick introduction and show of her ability.
Impressed by both the ability and how she had introduced herself even more confidently than Morie had herself, she found herself smiling. She gave Carmen a soft, approving bump on her shoulder as the girl sat back down. "Super cool," she said to her quietly.
Morie's thoughts turned back to the director's calls, her hand stuffing back into her pocket. From the half of the conversations they had heard, it didn't sound like combat, like Carmen suspected. Like everyone else, Morie was curious to know what it really was.
The girl stood from her seat in an effort to burn some of the adrenaline-fueled energy she felt. She eyed the director seriously as Caiden urged him to tell them what was happening, a much simpler "Mm," coming from her to echo Caiden's sentiment.

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:07 PM.
Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

---

---

Memento seemed to be a little more like Andrew than Will initially thought - while she wasn't nearly as forthcoming with information on her personal life, it only took a bit of prodding from Fukuda and Beverly for her to start giving a more elaborate explanation of her abilities.

Of course, Will didn't really mind that. It was the best-case scenario - he hated the whole cloak and dagger shtick, so the sooner everyone else aired out their baggage and secrets, the sooner Will wouldn't feel the need to hold onto his own.

"I guess I don't really heal--m-more like I move the injury over to myself. It's a bit morbid, but it's not q-quite as limited as it seems, because I can make duplicates of myself. They take t-time to create, but I can use them to 'heal' a bunch of wounds or illnesses until... the body can't take on any more and dies, or w-whatever. A-and then I can absorb those duplicates to give myself, um, basic Brute stuff... i-it's a kind of organic matter manipulation at its core, basically..."

The display was a bit macabre, but nothing compared to the freakshit that some capes could do. Will hadn't even tried to hide his interest in her explanation, leaning in as the wound seemed to migrate between the arms of the girls.

He didn't think too much of it during her initial introduction. Didn't want to risk going to that dark place. But this changed everything.

Could she heal Will's mother? Memento might go into a coma, but if she could just wake up in another body, would that really matter? What if this was-

Don't get excited. Will's grip on the chair instantly relaxed and he turned away from the display, heart racing.

'Don't lose your cool pal. You don't know if her shit would work on something like that, you don't know if she would help you pro bono, and you don't even know her. You're just setting yourself up for disappointment.'

Had to keep himself in check. He's gotten too used to building himself up, only to come crashing down.

That's right. Will could just ask her once this dumb meeting was over. 'Hey, you probably get asked this a lot, but could you heal my terminally ill family member?' That kind of emotional blackmail didn't really sit right with him, but he was willing to take whatever chance he could.

Of course, Overclock's question of 'pain immunity' never even crossed Will's mind. It wasn't that he didn't think of it - he just didn't care enough to ask. Too focused on the application rather than the process.

Quickly, Will focused back on the kid next to him - Andy. He had started talking again, responding to what Jane had asked.

"I volunteered. I'm an orphan living in the orphanage near the docks and I wanted a new home - Aka this place's dorms - and money. I know it's too late to get a family now that I'm 14, but I presume that I can get a bit of financial independence."

Will was almost impressed with how easily Andrew said what he needed to know - now Will knew that this guy was one of the nutjobs that actually signed up to this willingly. Didn't even need to press him, considering how loose-lipped the younger boy was with his personal life...

Will could already see that being a problem in the future. Gonna need to break that habit for him if he ever needs to know confidential shit.

What Andrew said also caused Will's train of thought to flicker. Dorms? It made sense, considering some of the people here didn't exactly look like they had a home to head back to, but Will didn't really grasp how... ubiquitous this team would be to some of the kids here. Andy was talking about basically leaving everyone he's ever known and living with strangers until he outgrew the Wards. And if Jane's living situation was half as Mad Max as she looked, she probably wouldn't be too far behind the kid.

The thought of hopping into the dorm situation made Will a little sick to his stomach. He wasn't fond of living with his brother, but at least he liked Will enough that he didn't need to wear special earplugs.

Andy kept talking, and Fukuda underwent the burden of answering his more obvious questions (Maybe he didn't get interviewed before coming here? The first thing Will asked about during that was the pay). Will started to tune out the discussion going on - but when Will made his comment on guardians, Fukuda had to chip in again.

"You may have a point there, Wilbur. Most people know the risks with this kind of position, and are rightfully afraid. Still, perhaps we can avoid digging into everyone's circumstances, mmm?"

Will bit his cheek and tried to avoid making his glare obvious, but he doubted that Fukuda could really miss it. 'Let's not get into people's personal business huh? Little hypocritical, considering the whole 'Your teammate is a master and will master you guys' thing.'

You're talking to yourself again. Will shook the train of thought. Fukuda was forced to babysit a team of super brats - one that had Will on it.

He wasn't really in a good situation career-wise. No sense harping on the guy. Instead, Will chose to listen in on Sean's introduction, curious as to why Andy was so obsessed with him.

Initially, Will had been pretty hopeful - Sean's comments on the PRT thus far had been firmly set in the 'edgy teen that doesn't appreciate authority trying to protect them' camp. Which was exactly the same way Will felt about the whole Ward thing. But then the guy started going into how he had 'discipline as a hero' and the new 'call to action' quickly snuffed Will's hopes.

Another guy that thought the whole 'parahuman in spandex' thing going on is serious business. Disappointing, but if Andy's opinion was anything to go off, this guy at least brought some power to the team - and the more of that around, the less Will had to worry about getting crushed by a thrown car, or shot with an energy beam, or whatever other weird shit he'd have to be paranoid about from now on.

It was around now that Memento (Morie? Marie? Will couldn't really hear the name that she gave Carmen) and Bev made their way towards the team's rugrat, clearly wanting to make her feel more comfortable. Will was able to easily ignore Andrew's more blunt commentary, but this act was what nearly made the boy cringe. A bunch of (near) adults crowding around a pipsqueak and talking down to her didn't seem like the best way to avoid being intimidating.

Carmen was pretty good at masking her feelings though - Will wasn't sure if his estimate was off the mark, or if she was just used to the behavior.

Before he could get much further into playing armchair psychologist and badly analyzing his teammates, Will was distracted by a sudden ringing. Fukuda reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, raising a finger to his mouth to signal silence as he did so.

Of course, Will took that chance to be an asshole.

"Oh, phones are allowed in class? Glad to hear, I got a crazy game of Minesweeper going-"

Will paused mid-bit, not because of the glare that Fukuda gave him, but because the older man had simply answered the phone anyways. Will was a dick, but judging by the look on the Director's face, this was actually important.

Fukuda started speaking with whoever was on the other end of the call - and while the group was only hearing a one-sided portion of the conversation, what Will pieced together was making him pretty damn intimidated.

Guardians were being called up, there was only an hour to get ready, and Elton...?

Oh, Fashionista. That was the costume lady. Well, one mystery solved, god knows how many more to go.

The fact that they would be needing their costumes was what made Will the most nervous - he had assumed today would be more like an orientation than anything else. If they needed their costumes, it meant that they needed to do cape shit, or at least looked like they did cape shit.

Will really hoped it was the latter. He had focused a lot more on the drip of his costume than the actual functionality - best defense he had was a damn motorcycle helmet.

The teen quickly began looking at things logically. It couldn't be too bad, right? If it was villains, why would the Guardians be alerted while we were 'prepared'? And why would the 'higher-ups' need to be told off if this was something out of everyone's control?

Will kept trying to pick at little things like that - the way Fukuda used certain words, as if that meant anything and wasn't just Will deluding himself into a sense of security.

Relax. Breathe.

Will complained under his breath, though he didn't really do a good job at concealing the venom in his words.

"I swear if this is cape shit on day 1, I'm going to find if this place has an HR and bitch so hard..."

Grumbling out of the way, Will looked around quickly - a decent chunk of the group was getting antsy, with Carmen and Caiden already asking the important questions. No need for Will to do the same, even though he was probably the one shitting his pants about it the most.

Oh, and Carmen can just make items out of thin air. Will would have to remember to not call her a pipsqueak or something, or else he'd have to worry about a hormone-filled tween with a firearm.

Will leaned towards Aaliyah, cupping his hand around his mouth as he spoke in a loud mock-whisper.

"My moneys on the Superhero PTA finding out we're a thing - what you thinking?"

A last-ditch effort to leave a good impression on the teleporter - Will didn't know how far south this thing was going, so it would be good to make sure that Master fuck up from earlier was water under the bridge.

Andrew Bennett/Hope

"Can your clones become sapient?" Andrew asked Morie sort of tactlessly, even by his own standards. "I presume they can't, but I do want to know for sure."

Then as Overclock gave his real name, Andrew picked up on the hint and said with a smile, "That's a good name, Sean; thanks for trusting me and the others with it."

He wasn't entirely oblivious to the tensions and fault lines brewing in the group, but Andrew was enough of an optimist - Someone named Hope had to be - that they will eventually work together well and become a band of true companions. Some of them, anyway. Also, did Morie just refuse to go shopping with him? If so, he hoped Wilbur didn't follow up with a refusal of his own; that meant that he was even worse at socializing than he thought.

Honestly, what was up with himself? Was he really screwing himself over in his first encounter with potential friends? Either way, he was certain that the older folk here looked at him with... Skepticism (?). Why? Did he really fail socialization that badly?

Nevertheless, his panic was not such that the boy failed to notice Carmen's demonstration of her power. With a grin, Andrew flashed her a thumbs up, before asking, "Can you produce food with that, and would it be energy-efficient for you? Also, can you copy more sophisticated tech?"

He did not add the fact that he had a similar sub-power himself; he knew enough to know that it'd come off as one-upmanship and probably destroy what neutral or positive impression he had with her. Besides, it wasn't that similar.

As for the Director's emergency phone call, Andrew wasn't actually surprised, even though he hadn't thought that something would actually happen. Either way, he'd change his hair to a similar, but not the same, silvery shade as Caiden did, looking at the other youth sort of admiringly, and then say next, "Should I use my powers or do we have costumes ready?"

A hint that he was more powerful than he had already shown, but not a hint that he was more dangerous; that came later. Andrew may be immensely socially awkward, but he was not so dumb as to think that people won't regard him as a risk once he had revealed more of his abilities. However, he can pace it, he can make sure that the reveals were controlled... Right? Either way, he was ready to fight whatever enemy was there, assuming this was a 'fighting' assignment.

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:10 PM.

Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

---

---

She could not believe this!

...Okay, that was a lie. She just couldn't believe something like this would happen on the first day! Everything had been all lined up, nice and smooth; gather them all together, do a bit of meet-n-greet, show them around their personal Headquarters (though Rachel still thought it was an odd choice to stick it underground), get them acquainted with some of the amenities, like the Garage, the Changing Rooms, and definitely the (now poorly named, thanks to a certain addition) Workshop, which....Well, she supposed was still going to happen, but not how she'd envisioned it. And last but not least, maybe get them some celebratory pizza for a day well done (unless Fukuda decided to throw them right into patrols or something....).

Doesn't that sound nice?

Well, it was all getting thrown out the damn window on the whims of the Think Tank. God, she hated her job sometimes. That was the foremost thought on her mind as she strode down the surprisingly well-lit staircase on her way down to The Wards, her light blonde hair kept in a short ponytail as the more unruly ends of her hair hung rebelliously to both sides of her head, refusing to be tucked away and kept in line like the rest. As she continued her descent, the light kept catching brief glimpses of the rest of her; the soft yellow eyes, the handful of freckles dotting her face, and the elegant suit she wore; in contrast to her superior, it was instantly recognizable that Rachel put far more effort into her appearance, to dramatic effect. In spite of her personality, at a first glance, you might even assume she was the more serious and put-together of the pair due to this.

The Vice Director's stride was even and calculated, having traveled down this stairwell quite often as of late, making last minute adjustments to the Wards HQ and ensuring the integrity of the structure, while Fukuda had to handle more vital tasks. Truth be told, she'd wished they had been given more time to liven the place up; the Lounge was scarce as could be, she knew, and could feel more homely, if nothing else. Though with the planned tours at some point, perhaps that would give the wrong impression....

Well, at the very least, this was good exercise. Speaking of, she needed to see about getting Atsushi outside a bit more often, even if it were just for the morning jogs again. Rachel was well aware he'd been doing overtime for weeks on end in preparation for this, and while she wasn't so different in that regard, she knew too well how he let stress pile up. Convincing him to take a break will be a monumental task, but she'd manage somehow....

Finally, she had made it to the end of the well. At first glance, it would appear to be a dead end, with nothing but a strange installation of sort off to the side. Of course, she knew better. She smiled. All the little fancy security measures were a fun new detail to play with in regards to The Wards HQ; Rachel would have to find time to chat with Lockdown about the nitty-gritty of it, she was admittedly curious. Sadly, even amongst Tinkers, that young lady was consistently busy...Oh well.

Placing her palm atop the steel pad, a brief scan crossed over it, giving her a funny little tingling sensation. Was it supposed to do that? Hm. Regardless, when the installation read 'Clear' in green text at the top, she relinquished her hand and stood at attendance, as abruptly, a wall panel nearby the sofa three of the Wards were lounging on folded in on itself, revealing the Vice Director in all her glory. Her....5'5 glory. Okay, so maybe she wasn't as imposing as some individuals, like Fukuda or Risen (now that guy is built...), but she had a presence all her own. One that was usually rather glowing, though at this moment there was a definite edge to it, to those who had grown familiar with her....Namely Fukuda himself, though Morgan might pick up on that vibe.

Smiling to the Wards, and giving a subtle wink to Morie, her eyes crossed paths with the Director's, and they locked....With Fukuda being the first to crumble, awkwardly breaking away from the stare. Rachel just sighed. She'd have time to yank his chain later, and besides, he wasn't the one really deserving of the ire growing inside her. Turning her attention back to the children, her smile returning after that exchange, she began to speak.

"Hello! Hopefully you all remember me from your interviews and tours of the PRT; I'm Rachel Elton, Vice Director of Redline's PRT. I also go by Fashionista when I'm doing some 'off-the-clock' work. Or when I feel like irritating a certain someone." She gives a brief giggle before composing herself once more, as off to the side, Fukuda rolled his eyes.

"You all can call me what you wish, though Rachel's fine! Sadly, due to some...Unforeseen circumstances, we're gonna need to move things along faster than we would have hoped." Another burning stare to the Director, who couldn't muster the courage to meet it once more. "...But enough about that! I'll fill you all in on what's what as we go, and I'll get to show you all your costumes! My favorite part!" She couldn't suppress a little squeak of joy at the thought; there was nothing she loved more than getting to show off her designs! Well, maybe there was....But they were already here. "Follow me!"

Making elegant strides, Rachel approached one of the doorways that littered the Lounge; heavy-set metal doors, built like they were meant for a bunker. A minor precaution, when involving Parahumans as dangerous as some of these kids could be, even if she didn't buy into that very much. It also had a similar installation to the panel she had entered from (which, as an aside, had already closed itself off once more, appearing by all remarks as a totally normal wall again), which she once again put her palm to. A few seconds later, with the brief hiss of pressure being relieved from the high-security doorway, she made her way into the room.

Large, well-made lockers complete with more peculiar scanners lined the walls of this room, the white tiling echoing quietly with each click of Fashionista's heels as she made her way in, getting to the end of the line where two more paths diverged, each marked off with a sign denoting male or female; the actual Changing Rooms, as they were. A brief peak in could tell they were of much the same make as this room, though they had steel benches for seating, and if the Wards looked hard enough, they could make out alcoves for showering as well.

"This is the locker room, with the changing rooms right behind us! Of course, this is where you'll be fetching your costumes, as well as where we'll be keeping those earbuds of yours when you're off-duty. They are PRT property, after all." A soft laugh escaped her, before an equally soft 'Oh!' escapes her. "Almost forgot, you'll all be needing these; personal cards to access your lockers. Apparently my suits still count as Tinkertech, so due to some laws they have to be securely contained for 'safety concerns'." She didn't make her feelings about the topic subtle, with the obvious air-quotes she used to punctuate those so-called 'safety concerns' and the slight venom she put into the start of that statement.

Still, her positive attitude returned quickly and freely, as Rachel personally went around the group to hand the cards off, a stark contrast to how casually and disconnected Fukuda had granted the Wards their earbuds. With that said and done, she returned to her spot near the end of the room, lightly motioning towards the locker, unable to conceal her eagerness at seeing the reactions. She thought she'd done a stellar job with what they'd asked, even if some of them had....Been less than interesting. She so badly wanted the kids to like the work; she'd put too much time and effort into them otherwise.

She even had to collaborate with Tech Wizard for some of them, for God's sake! He's not bad or anything, but trying to work with him is an absolute nightmare. So she could only hope they would appreciate her efforts. Oooh, and she really couldn't wait to see them actually try them on! Oh, she was sure they'd look great! Rachel was already beaming with expectations.

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:12 PM.

Location(s): Redline Guardians Mobile Fortress

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It had been a painstakingly slow day for the Guardians of Redline; unusual, and to an extent welcome, but also quite strange. The lull in activity of all types, especially of the Parahuman variety, was far from the norm for this city, and thus, a noteworthy concern. Still, it hadn't made today any less dull, even as the fall of night began to grace Redline.

Being a Hero on a day like this could be considered one of the worst points of the job by some, and Risen fell into that category. In spite of being in his thirties, he had always looked youthful, more like a teenager than a proper adult, most likely due to his Power. Just like his obnoxiously long black hair, which always vehemently refused to stay cut; he'd had to let it grow out for years now. It stretched down the length of his body, which was impressive, given that he stood around 6'6 and weighed nearly 300 lbs. of pure muscle. In truth, he looked like one of those anime characters who were 'teens', but were ridiculously ripped for no good reason...Except that he did have a reason, of course.

His deep brown eyes lazily gazed across the Central Station of the Fortress; they'd truly spared no expense on this thing. Even now, he was still mildly bewildered by the fact that they were inside what was essentially a giant floating steel castle. He was currently situated on a coach near the more lounge-styled section of the massive room, which was complete with all sorts of amenities; with all the chairs, tables, couches and more, Jason had to guess just this part of the Fortress could host several dozen people. It made the fact that they only have six members feel...Very small. Lonely, even.

Above that level was more of what you'd expect from an area called the Central Station; terminals and complex systems at work, dozens of screens displaying information that would've overloaded most other people....Except for who was actually manning them right now, that is. On the younger end, though ironically still looking a touch older than Risen himself, was Blaster, his freckled baby-face hidden behind a somewhat clunky-looking visor that was apart of his costume, his curly brown hair needing to be occasionally brushed from his sight.

He was certainly the most energetic of anyone here, Jason'd say. Guy had a passion for this stuff; he found it fun, and not in the thrill-junky way like some did (although he was certain some aspect of that was present). He just loved what he did. A small smile played on his face. That trait was becoming rarer and rarer amongst heroes, he knew. It was something to be treasured. Still, though, he could tell that Mitch was losing enthusiasm too; hours and hours spent scouring the internet and security cams for any sign of real trouble, and yet, nothing today. Biggest thing that popped up on the feed was the stunt Overclock had pulled a few minutes ago, which had elicited a grin from him, but it was brief.

Risen tried to get comfortable again. Siren and Presidio had been getting on his case about how he handled himself, so he was at least trying to take some small steps. Even resting felt like a waste to him, but he would try. His costume didn't make that easy though, given it was actually made from his own hair...Not that that was public knowledge. But, well, he needed something tough that wouldn't weigh him down, and would also help him cover up if he actually took damage. It was a stroke of luck they found out that his hair held onto some of that regenerative factor, even separated from him; once they took some locks and made it into a suit, it would restore itself to that shape even with some serious damage.

...Granted, it meant that his costume was pretty much just a black jumpsuit, for all intents and purposes. Not very flashy, but then again, Risen didn't care too much.

Let's see....Trump Card was out right now, patrolling the streets. If he was struggling with his patience, then it was a shock it took this long for that guy to decide to fuck off. Normally he'd feel uncomfortable with how long he'd been out, but surprisingly, he trusted TC....When it came to doing Cape stuff, that is. He doubted that guy would die off so easily. Of course, though, he was neglecting to do any check-ins with the group back at base, much to Risen's chagrin.

He lifted himself from the couch, stretching with the light pop of bones, grown stiff from what had felt like ages merely lounging around. Jason couldn't even recall a day that had been as dull as this. Surely something would....

The ping of the main monitor caught his eye, looking up to the second level of the Central Station, where Blaster's gaze had also now fallen. An urgent call from the Director, apparently. For a moment, Mitchell fumbled with the controls just from the shock that something was finally happening. "Ack! Dang, c'mon..." Catching himself, the call was received as Fukuda's face took up the screen, the empty Wards lobby behind him (though no doubt some of the kids could be heard off-screen as they walked off with Fashionista).

"Ugh, God....This thing on?" On his end, the Director could still be seen trying to fiddle with things on his end, no doubt having to try and wrap around Tech Wizard's work; he had a penchant for making his stuff far more overcomplicated than necessary, even by Tinkertech standards. "Readin' you loud 'n clear, Director! Uh, heads up though, we've got TC out right now. Want us to call him back before this?" The tinge of Canadian in Blaster's accent became clearer the longer he spoke, but the Director merely shook his head to the request.

"It's fine. You'll have time to fill him in later. Is Risen...? Ah." Having ascended to the higher level by casually hopping up and slipping over the railings, Jason stood at attendance alongside Blaster, with no doubt Presidio and Siren following suit. "The rest of us are accounted for, Director. What seems to be the problem?" In contrast to his youthful appearance, his voice was surprisingly deep and resounding, lightly echoing through the lengths of the Station while they overlooked the city from on-high.

"That's good. Alright, where to begin with this..." Fukuda seemed to be trying to collect himself, figuring out the best way to lay down the facts. Eventually, he seemed to find his resolve and spoke once more. "I know some of you are newer to this, but assuming you've read your share of files, you'll know about the Think Tank; a collection of Thinkers the PRT've gathered up to brainstorm about important topics and the like."

This got a resolute nod from Risen, although Blaster seemingly froze like a deer in the headlights for the bit...And unsubtly opened the files for the Think Tank on a side monitor to piece through while the Director spoke.

Accepting that at least one individual knew what the hell he was talking about, he continued. "A particular individual in the Tank is known as Remembrance; she's a high-level precog, but suffers from heavy bouts of memory loss due to her power. However...She remembered something today."

The Director let this silence stand for a moment. It would've been one thing to get heads-up from the Think Tank in general, but from a precog? It made this feel a bit more....Larger-than-life, so to say. Fukuda continued as the others chose silence over foolish questions. "Apparently, anywhere from right now..." He briefly paused, as if expecting some catastrophic event to occur on cue, which it thankfully didn't. "...To about one to two hours from now, two different events are going to play out. An attack on the mayor's home, and a raid on the Museum of Parahuman History. Of course, when pressed for further details..." The Director pinched the bridge of his nose, his irritation out for all to see.

"...She couldn't recall anything. Thus, we've essentially received a 'heads-up', and nothing more. All we can say is that these attacks are going to happen, and apparently they'll call for some Parahuman intervention. On top of that, the board has decided that the attack on the mayor is far more pressing, and thus, intend to allow the museum incident to be handled by The Wards."

There was an instant reaction among the group, though Blaster got in first. "Uh....Wait, are we talking about the same Wards? The new kids? Most of which haven't even thrown a punch, much less fought other Parahumans?" The Director nodded. "...Well, crap. Is what's gonna happen this serious, or do they just want an excuse to throw them into the fire?" To that, the Director could only shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine here, I'm afraid. But....I was thinking I'd still get a few of you to come with these kids. I'm leaving the exact details up to you, Risen; just be prepared to get into gear when I ring again, alright?"

With that, Fukuda unceremoniously disconnected; there was still far too much for him to do if they really did only have an hour, if that. Thus, the Redline Guardians were yet again left to their own devices. It was only after all was said and done that Fenris, who had kept to a corner in the lounge area, finally crept up the staircase, keeping her distance from the rest...But close enough to hear what she needed.

For a moment, Risen had a hand to his face, clenched tight. It had to be one of those days; a calm before the storm. Judging from what the Director had said, he intended for them not to take action yet, to which he agreed internally, much as it angered him. Moving too quickly could shift the plans involved by their unknown adversaries, and possibly leave them even more clueless that they already were. Still, it was worth something, being able to react the moment the trigger was pulled.

...But the Wards? The kids? Jason couldn't fathom why the higher-ups had decided to pull the rug on them like this. Were they so eager to see them in action...Or was this something to do with Remembrance? Perhaps it had something to do with these kids? Regardless, the situation sickened him to his core. But, as a leader, he had to make a decision.

"....Two members. If the incident with the mayor is considered the bigger threat, I won't take that lightly, but the kids will need some proper back-up. Whose willing to be that back-up?" For their parts, Blaster and Fenris were silent, likely still trying to catch up the situation as it were. It would remain to be seen how Siren or Presidio might respond to this...

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022; 6:08 PM
Location(s): Redline, PRT Headquarters

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With his attention split between the Director and his fellow Wards, Caiden found himself more than a bit surprised when a wall folded in on itself to reveal a rather attractive woman that he’d already had the pleasure of meeting once. ‘Ah, Rachel,’ he thought as Fukuda’s lack of explanation was suddenly explained by the Vice Director’s presence. He chuckled slightly to himself as–totally within his expectations for the woman–Fashionista completely dominated the room’s attention. Caiden didn’t feel to catch the look she’d given Fukuda, and he took a sort of personal pleasure in seeing the man shy away from her gaze. Then came the obligatory introduction of course, markedly more enjoyable than such an awkward thing would typically be given the situation, all owing to the sheer charisma the woman brought to the table.

He really did enjoy Rachel’s company, in fact, he found that he’d adopted a more honest smile as he watched her work the room and then guide them from the Wards’ central control room. As he followed he took note of the fascinating security measures. Eventually, they made their way into what he guessed was a changing room–which he swiftly found confirmed as Fashionista passed out access cards and explained their purpose. The place was rather utilitarian, but it wasn’t as if they’d be spending much time there, so that made a certain amount of sense.

As he received his access card from Rachel, Caiden gave her a bright smile, laying on a bit of the charm before he let his eyes drift down to the card. Of course, given that they were clearly about to get their first feel for what being in costume would be like, Caiden reevaluated his earlier ideas about the nature of the interruption. No, things were almost certainly much more severe if both the Director and Fashionista were on edge–especially combined with the fact that they were being told to get in costume. As Will–‘Wilbur’, he thought with a slight chuckle as he moved to retrieve his costume and go get changed–had feared, this was almost certainly ‘cape shit’ as the young man had so eloquently put it.

While many of the others seemed…unnerved by the turn of events–at least going based on their initial reactions–Caiden found he was rather looking forward to having an excuse to use his power. He’d been itching to properly use it ever since he’d gotten his first taste of its true capabilities back during–...he cut off the thought as images of pools of blood flashed behind his eyes.

Focusing for a moment as he changed, Caiden found that the get-up was even better than he’d expected. It fit perfectly, neither restrictive of his movement nor did it leave him with any discomfort at all. It was honestly incredible, even clothes he’d gotten custom made before hadn’t fit him like this. Caiden supposed it was the benefit of having a clothing tinker on hand.

Once he’d finished getting in costume, Caiden stepped out from the men’s changing room and let his gaze fall directly on Fashionista.

“Honestly Rachel, I’m more than impressed,” he praised, his smile as relaxed as it was honest.

“Comfortable, unbelievably breathable and…” he paused, glancing to make sure he wasn’t particularly close to anyone before he snapped his fingers and a mass of prismatic energy flashed into existence. The energy rapidly coalesced into the silhouette of a blade. Then, in the space of a second or less a full blade had manifested just to Caiden’s right, its tip aimed at the ground.

Casually, Caiden grabbed the grip of the blade and poked at some of the draping cloth of his costume. It didn’t cut it at all, though he could tell it would part if he truly used his power properly. Still, it was impressive.

He looked back to Rachel, the blade vanishing into a spray of quickly dispersing particles as he finished “...surprisingly durable. Excuse the turn of phrase, but it’s honestly good shit.” He said it all with incredible casualness, each word coming out as if he’d said them a thousand times–yet at once like they weren’t practiced. Moving on without comment on his brief use of his power, Caiden lifted the mask he’d kept in his left hand up to look at.

It was just as good as the rest of the costume. He honestly wasn’t sure if he could be happier with her work. With his own testing done, he glanced elsewhere, waiting for the others to emerge from the changing rooms, eminently curious as to what their choices had been.




Date/Time: November 11th, 2022; 6:13 PM
Location(s): Redline, Guardian Mobile Fortress

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Never one to be caught unprepared–and especially not one to ever waste time–Kari had been experimenting with her power while she sat on a comfortable sofa for the greater length of the day. She’d gone on patrol before Trump Card for a few hours, and that had helped take off the edge that something was up. So, with an uncounted number of forcefields arranging and rearranging themselves in the air in front of her, Kari didn’t find herself even remotely surprised when the Director called them with bad news.

Instantly, as it became apparent they’d need to deploy, Kari let a series of forcefields align with her mask, forming a tiara-like formation before she complexified the arrangement to add a sort of transparent shielding for her eyes. With that done, she rose to her feet, a small amount of tension easing rather than growing as she heard the news. Though she didn’t approach the screen, instead listening from halfway across the room, Presidio oddly found herself relieved that her instincts hadn’t been off. She was equally glad that she’d kept some of her more common constructs properly maintained for the duration of the day.

When the Director signed off and Risen spoke up, Kari considered things for only a moment before Siren pitched in. Glancing at the stern woman, Kari felt herself slip into her role almost effortlessly–she’d been practicing.

As Siren finished, Presidio let her array of shields arrange themselves at her back and sides before she spoke up in reply, her tone resolute.

“I’m going with Siren. There’s too high a chance that these things will be equally dangerous.” She glanced up at Risen and Blaster, regarding Fenris as well for a moment before turning her attention back to their leader. “If anything you three and Trump Card are more than sufficiently equipped to protect the Mayor, especially in tangent with the PRT and the Mayor’s personal guard. Even if things get bad on his end, I can rest assured that you can handle yourselves. The Wards however…” she trailed off, frowning slightly.

“...well, even with me being the newest to the group, I’ve still got drastically more experience than almost any of them, perhaps with our local speedster excluded. Besides, I’d say that I’m probably the best-equipped power-wise to protect them.” At that she gave Risen a confident smile, her eyes glittering slightly even as the pair of shields at her sides unfurled into larger concave formations reminiscent of buckler shields, but about as wide as a person was tall. In Kari’s case, they dwarfed her own 5’3 frame.

Satisfied she’d made her point, the constructs retracted into themselves, swiveling down into slots deeper inside another series of interlocking forcefields. At her back another array of forcefields were popping into existence and rapidly assembling into a construct she’d already had the pleasure of using on several occasions since she’d joined the Redline Guardians. It would be much like a spool of thick cord, or chains, made from intricately intertwined and interlocked forcefields. It’d take her quite some time to make it properly, but they had some time before things would push off–at least it seemed that way, there was no way to truly be sure with thinkers.

“Any complaints?”

Her hazel eyes briefly flicked between Risen and Siren.

She hoped not.

Aaliyah caught the apologetic smile from Morie before the slow shrug and instantly felt her hackles raised, her fingernails threatening to break her skin as she held back her complaints as well as trying to keep certain thoughts away. She kept the frown and anger off her face, appearing as if nothing was wrong but she wasn’t happy about the puzzle pieces that were clicking together. She would have to be careful. She knew that Morie probably knew her limits but it would make her feel like she was inflicting wounds personally upon the girl should a ‘heal’ be needed and she wasn’t sure she could handle that. She lightly shook her head, trying to push it aside, not sure if anything was even going to happen so she would worry about it in that moment should the need ever arise. Her inner struggle and thoughts were suddenly halted with someone and by someone, she meant Will had decided to lean into her space which caused her to raise a brow at the ridiculous look of him cupping his mouth which was instantly a waste with the loud mock whisper that followed.

She was still a little weary about him, the incident earlier shaking her much more than she had let on but Aaliyah truly did want to give him the benefit of the doubt and just put it behind so they could still work as an effective team.
”Your guess is as good as mine though it sounds a little more serious than a meeting.”, she answered with a light shrug. It didn’t seem like they were going to have to wait or wonder for very long though as the panel near the couch suddenly disappeared, the Vice Director herself appeared. Fashionista or Rachel if one went by her true name, honestly made her feel nervous for a variety of reasons but also was one of the friendliest people she had met so far at PRT headquarters which means she couldn’t help but enjoy her company. It had been fun to sit down and see what could work and what wouldn’t when in the design process. She had been open and inviting but it made her wonder when the other shoe might drop. Aaliyah could only hope over that time the feeling would fade and it did help that she seemed to be on a good level with Morie from the gestures before the quick reminder of who she was and letting them know that she would be briefing them on what was happening since the Directer hadn’t really felt the need to fill them in, not frustrating at all.

She swiftly stood, following after the woman as she guided them along eventually ending up in what was a glorified locker/changing room combo of sorts. It was obvious there were multiple precautions in place and it didn’t take a genius to guess why. At least it seemed like Fashionista wasn’t really gung-ho about the labeling of ‘safety concerns’ which made it feel like she was more on their side, trusting them a bit instead of just labeling some in the group or calling them out. Aaliyah would like to hope that the group wouldn’t do something horrible but everything had to be looked at as a possibility when being neutral so it made sense whether she liked it or not. She took a hold of her personal card with a soft thank you, turning it in her hands and fiddling to keep herself busy. This was exciting if not a bit terrifying but she just wanted to be useful and helpful, using what she had to do good. At the gesture over to the lockers, she didn’t need to be told twice, heading over at a fast pace and wanted to see what Fashionista had managed with this collaboration. She knew she asked for a lot. She was difficult and stubborn but the other woman had been patient and kind, offering up solid suggestions on what was plausible. It made a difference when feeling the fabric in her hands, seeing something be created that felt more like a dream but now was more solid and real.

Aaliyah stepped out of the changing room after a bit, her fingers running along the material and amazed at how soft, even light it felt as if nothing was even there which allowed for more movement speed. It seems like she wasn’t the only one that was impressed if the tail end of Caiden’s conversation was anything to go by. She was about to speak up herself but her words died on her lips, instead gaping in awe at the display of power, the pull of energy before it formed and created a blade shape before completely manifesting. Her mind raced with all the applications this could entail, curious on his limitations or how exactly his powers worked and found herself a lot more interested in the person behind the power since she wasn’t sure if he was a team player or not with the personality displayed earlier. It was almost a disappointment when the blade disappeared out of existence before she could question more or even test out what the possibilities were. It wasn’t like they had a lot of time to see how they would all work together but this had potential. ”He isn’t wrong, Rachel. These are beautifully crafted and I can’t even begin to have words to describe how impressed I am with the outcome. Truly, thank you.”, she piped in with her own mask, sitting upon her head instead of being pulled down and nicely set in place. ”So, Caiden was it? That is some power you have there.”

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:09 PM.

Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

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She had a name now! Carmen. She seemed nice, and polite to boot. Honestly, seeing the handshake made Beverly do a double-take; why hadn't she done anything like that? The cost of making a more general introduction, she supposed....One she thoroughly wished she hadn't made. But that was in the quite recent past! In the meantime, though, the nest had gotten stirred with the Director's statement, as others began voicing their concerns, even little Carmen! It certainly made Bev a bit more subconscious on how she'd passively ignored it...

Still, with a response not seeming to come from Mr. Fukuda, the youngest Ward took her chance on the floor for a more proper introduction. 13, huh? Wow...Even ignoring she was apart of this whole thing, imagining someone as young as her going through a Trigger honestly made Bev's guts churn a bit. Following that up, she unintentionally hit the Tinker with a sucker punch, openly admitting how she'd ended up here. Her...Her mom signed her up?

Against her will, a small frown made its way to her face; not for Carmen, no, but for herself. She couldn't imagine her mom being up for this, much less learning what she was. How could she? Beverly wasn't the most well-versed in understanding people, but even she could grasp that her mother wasn't in a good place. She might never be in a good place again...That kind of revelation wouldn't change things. If anything, it'd get worse with it.

In truth, both her and the PRT were sorta going behind her back, under the pretenses that given time, Beverly will be able to get her guardian's express permission for The Wards. She had no intention of doing so....Which didn't bode well to her long-term staying power in the group, but that was a bridge she'd cross another time. Shaking those thoughts away, a smile clung to her once more, though clearly tinged with a bit of sadness.

Luckily, that was broken swiftly when Carmen got to demonstrating her power, ever-so-casually manifesting what, for all intents and purposes, was a real-ass goddamn basketball and tossing it to the side, letting it bounce around for a moment before it vanished once more at her whims. It was all Beverly could do to stop her jaw from dropping. First Morie, and then Carmen?! Not even mentioning Sean....Why was she the one straddled with a Power that made her just some tired mess with nothing to show for it but collections of weird knick-knacks and the like? Jeez, she felt outclassed by a middle schooler now...This was a new low.

In spite of her own personal shortcomings, she too was amazed by the demonstration, having to hold back a veritable tide of questions about it. Instead, she opted to turn to the barely-teen with a big grin. "Well, I'll be darned! No wonder yer here with that kinda power, it's somethin' else!" She followed it up with a playful little punch to the shoulder, a thumbs-up at the ready; and she'd certainly earned it. Even without knowing the full scope of it, it sounded pretty darn useful, and applicable to almost any situation. Like a living Swiss Army Knife! Heck, she can make a Swiss Army Knife! Er....She assumed.

'Course, then Andrew began speaking up again, asking some downright ridiculous questions, like if Morie's dupes could become sentient? I mean...Benefit of the doubt, some Powers were downright weird, but she doubted anyone ever had a cloning deal where the doppelgangers abruptly gained sentience. Usually they were, or they weren't, not much room for in-between. So, understandably, she stared at him like he was off his rocker. Didn't help when he abruptly pivoted back to Sean to, er...Compliment his name? And then jumped right back to Carmen with questions. Gosh, and she thought she was the mile-a-minute thinker here!

Him asking her about food made her already confused gaze towards him turn absolutely incredulous. Why the HECK would that be one of your first thoughts?! What, was he thinking about what she'd do on an abandoned island or something?! Okay, it was official; Andrew asked the weirdest stuff. Granted, the bit about sophisticated technology was one that piqued Beverly's interests a bit. A basketball was, from a design standpoint, rather simple. But how complex could she get? Guns? Explosives? Or, if she were to go the extra mile, was Tinkertech on her table? She doubted it, since the kinda stuff people like her came up with was mostly straight out of Science Fiction, and usually made in far too unorthodox ways; even trying to explain that to most people was a hassle. Like, no one would get how she made a time-dilating explosive out of old sheet metal, a car battery, and...A sapphire that she hadn't particularly remembered obtaining. Hell, even when she tried to redo her old work, it never went right.

Seriously, she hated her power.

Part of her was ready to honestly ask Hope why on our green Earth he asked about the food sitch with Carmen, but she was interrupted (and frankly, more than a bit startled) by the shifting of a wall panel...And the arrival of Rachel Elton! She couldn't even help the honest smile that came across her face seeing the Vice Director appear. Somehow, the woman just radiated light. Just...Not in the literal sense. In stark contrast to Mr. Director's cold and distant approach, Fashionista, even upon initially meeting her, always felt open and warm, even after Beverly had handed her that....Very poor request form for her costume.

Suddenly, Beverly felt quite sheepish.

Feeling awkward about seeing the kind V-D after giving her something that obnoxiously vague, similarly to Morie, it looked like Bev was trying to shelter herself in her winterwear like some form of turtle, out of sight and out of mind. Still, when she did her re-introduction to the group and flashed that brilliant smile of hers across the room, she couldn't find it in her to huddle away from that. Heck, if Beverly didn't know any better, she'd guess she has some Master ability that caused good vibes. That was just how noticeable the effect of her presence was, honestly. She even noticed that Caiden guy soften up a bit, with a small shift in his smile. She wasn't sure exactly what the shift meant, but she took it as a good sign. Seemed everyone liked this lady to some degree, and truth be told, she couldn't blame them. Maybe she could learn from her example...

With her arrival, The Wards were shuttled off to the Changing Rooms with the promise of an explanation from Rachel, and a new surprise; personal ID cards! Beverly couldn't help but giggle a bit receiving hers again; truth be told, she hadn't been exactly sure what the photo-shoot at the end of the interview had been for, so she decided to have a little fun and make a dumb hero pose for the camera, which was now immortalized in the mugshot of the card. Maybe if Fukuda had been the one handing them out, she would've been embarrassed, but with Fashionista's presence it just brought her a bit of childish joy seeing her dumb display.

Seeing the Vice Director get stanced up near the two Changing Rooms and nodding eagerly to the personal lockers, Bev obliged, darting to hers and sliding the card down the scan-lock present. With a brief click the locker swung open, and she giddily scooped up her new attire, darting off to change, and just as quick to return with the rest.

Yeah, Beverly's sentiments about the make of everything was the same as the rest; incredible! It felt so nice to wear, comfy and breathable, soft, yet still with enough resistance to make you know it'll protect you. She also got the sense it'd be pretty thermodynamic, given the fact it lacked any winter additions, it seemed. But in a way divorced from most of the others, as a fellow Tinker, it was exhilarating in its own right to wear something made by someone of a like mind. It felt personal, and Beverly somehow instinctively understood the care and effort put into even her simple wears, just like everyone else's.

Workshop's attire wasn't quite the eye-catcher most hero costumes could be (which could be blamed on Beverly, truthfully); where she would normally be wearing a sports top and her zip-up leggings, she instead wore a form-fitting blueish-grey suit that, while looking rather basic, still looked good. Granted, it helped that Beverly had the body type to rock this kinda thing. Maybe a little too well, but it wasn't something she particularly thought about. In contrast, her hands were covered by thick, yet flexible black gloves, and her simple shoes were exchanged for a pair of tough-looking steel-capped cleats. Wait, why hadn't she thought of that?! Oh, these things'll help her keep her footing for sure! She had a tendency towards being a bit clumsy...Had Rachel done this with that in mind, with how little they'd interacted?

Sheesh! She was so thoughtful it made Beverly just feel bad by proximity. Shaking that off, she took in the rest of the costume, which was where the real costume began, in her opinion. Covering her frontside (which helped cover just how form-fitting her body-suit was) was a welding apron of sorts, just like she had asked! It was steely gray, and in spite of how light it felt, Bev could get the sense of how tough the make of it was; she had a suspicion it could turn away some stuff the rest of her outfit wouldn't, which could come in handy.

Then, there were all her spots for equipment! Oh, so many spots! She had a full-blown UTILITY BELT! Sure, it was empty right now, but how cool was that?! Not to mention two holsters for potential firearm-esque weapons; a smaller one at the hip, and one that went over her back. And, get this, a friggin' bandolier! She excitedly strapped it over her shoulder, looking it over fondly. It'd be perfect for storing a bunch of her smaller makes, which were typically her bread and butter. Last, but certainly not least, was a metal case that strapped to her back, she supposed for holding stuff when she had run out of all her other slots, or perhaps containing objects of more delicate make.

By the time she'd geared out, one could envision her with all those empty spots all loaded out with equipment, as if she were some kind of one-woman armory. It sounded like it'd get downright backbreaking if she really did fill every nook and cranny, yet she'd never looked happier. And thus, to finish the look, she donned the last piece; honestly, one of the few pieces she'd actually suggested. Her mask.

Circular red lenses inside a blackish-metal welder's mask, giving her a...Surprisingly menacing look, honestly. Before she spoke again, at least. "OH. MY. GOSH! This is amazin'! I look awesome! Oooh, I can't wait to fill all this out..." She was practically prancing with excitement over it, in stark contrast to the utilitarian aesthetic of her new attire, as her voice tinned past her mask, giving it a strange echo. However, she found her celebration halted when she saw Caiden test out his own digs (which, she couldn't lie...Looked so cool!) with...Was that a friggin' energy sword?! Yep, nope, she held back with Carmen, but this wasn't happening.

Lifting her mask off as it loomed over her visage, she responded in kind with this other girl. It was Ally, right? Right. Speaking of....She also looked incredible! And she could get the sense not all of it was Fashionista's handiwork, much like her mask; it seemed like metals didn't play well with Fashionista's designing sensibilities. It just made it even more interesting, honestly! Heck, she might need to bug Rachel about the make of the costumes at some point, cuz now she was getting curious on that too. Anyhoo...

"Some power's right! First it was Biokinesis, then, er...Object generation?" She shrugged, uncertain of what exactly to refer to as Carmen's power. "And now we got some kinda energy sword deal? Feelin' a bit outta my league at this rate!" She laughed, to play it off, but an edge of nervousness could be caught in it; because she honestly felt that way. With each announcement of a new ability, she felt less and less confident in her own...But she'd grin and bear it for now. What else could she do?

Carmen fought the urge to grit her teeth at both Morie and Bev’s responses to her display. She didn’t flinch when Bev punched her arm, although it did visibly startle it. Instead, she kept that same nervous, quavering smile plastered on her face. “Thanks,” she whispered back to the both of them. The only sign of her frustration was the slight tightening of her knuckles on her pants.

“Erm.” The only person who ended up asking about her power was that Andy kid. Carmen wasn’t too surprised- he seemed the curious sort. Still, as she was worrying about what the Director was talking about, Carmen wasn’t in the mood for an all-in explanation. No, no, and no. Sorry.”

A few moments later, Fashionista appeared and said hello, guiding them to yet another mysterious opening in the wall. It was cool, but why couldn’t they just have normal doors? Fashionista’s exuberance was comforting. In their early meetings, Carmen had found herself gravitating to the woman (she seemed to take her seriously, if nothing else), and that hadn’t changed here. Carmen shuffled to the changing rooms along with the rest of them, her anxiety steadily rising. They were changing into costumes unplanned, and both directors seemed rather on edge. They had to be going into combat- there just wasn’t another explanation. They entered the Changing Rooms, which was yet another room that looked as though it belonged in a prison, and they were given keycards and directed to the lockers containing their costumes.

She took her keycard and went to her personal locker, changing into her costume quickly. Carmen stared at herself in the mirror and cringed. It was an awful costume. Despite Fashionista’s best efforts, she looked like a cross between a member of Swedish pop sensation ABBA and Hannibal. It wasn’t a good look! Her costume featured a long, sleeveless black and gold-embroidered red tunic with a bullet proof vest with a red ‘V’ emblazoned on it overlaying it, simple black leggings that were reinforced with some padding in important places, black boots, and… a black hockey mask with some gold splattered on it. She also wore fingerless gloves and had her hair down. In shirt: embarrassing. Stepping outside was a labor, but she did it anyways. She fingered the small utility belt of her costume as she stared at Beverly.

God, everybody else looked so cool. Carmen tried her best not to nerd out. “Object generation with some caveats, yeah,” she muttered. She’d have to explain her power at some point, but that seemed the simplest explanation for it she had.

---

"Can your clones become sapient?" Andrew asked.
Morie blinked, shaking her head after a moment, thinking she understood what he was asking. "Not really. I-I can control any of my clones, but only one at a t-time... body-hopping, y'know? The rest are lifeless." Lifeless wasn't the exact right term because they still kept up enough basic functions to avoid natural bodily decay and all, but that wasn't worth getting into right now.
The girl's attention was taken by movement in the corner of her eye--a wall sliding away, a figure stepping in from the revealed entrance. Rachel! Morie perked up, giving her a small wave and smile in response to the woman's wink--Morie's smile faded slightly as she registered that the woman seemed more on edge than usual. Hardly surprising, considering the earlier phone call. Just what was happening?
As Morie listened with one ear to Rachel's words as she addressed the group, her mind started to race. What if Carmen's suspicions were right, and they were going to be fighting villains or dealing with an emergency already? That still wasn't confirmed, but Rachel beckoning them to follow her so they could put on their costumes wasn't a good sign. The excitement of seeing and trying on her cape outfit for the first time was suppressed by the rising anxiety.
She was in her normal body. No super-strength or speed to speak of, and the thought of something happening to this body specifically made her sick. As far as Morie knew, practically it didn't matter--this original body of hers was physically identical to any other freshly made clone, but... the idea of losing it scared her.
Caught in her own thoughts, her heart racing, she sat back down on the couch and stared hard at the floor as the rest of the group followed Rachel.
If her clones from Edmonton had made it yet, Rachel would have told her already, so evidently they weren't here. That meant she was without her stronger Brute bodies, which wasn't ideal, but that also wasn't what was causing the panic to set in. She just needed any clone. Even a default, unstrengthened one was more than fine. Literally any body but the one she was currently in--and she had a few of those, back at Rachel's house where she was staying now.
Okay, relax. Morie gave her cheek a quick slap, focusing on her goal of getting one of her clones and ignoring her fear of the consequences if she couldn't.
She jumped up from her seat, glancing over to the group heading through the doorway that Rachel opened for them--the woman was her instinctual first choice to go to, but she was occupied at the moment which left...
Morie winced slightly as she turned to the director. She was sure he was also needing to do things, but he wasn't the one surrounded by a bunch of super-powered children at the moment, so...
"Director, I need to know if we're going to be put into some sort of danger," she said to him, her sharper focus keeping her from any stutters. "I need at least one of my clones from Rachel's place if so." While she kept a more-or-less polite tone, she was definitely being more demanding and direct than her usual. If such insulted the director, she'd make sure to apologize--after her problems had been sorted.

Great. Action.

Just what they needed. Just what she needed.

On the bright side, Jane got to play around with the tech she got to work on with Fashionista. That part actually interested her a lot, so she made her way down through the hallways of the wall-doors a little quicker than everyone else, and when she got there and into the locker rooms, making sure no one was around her as she changed, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was actually built in one piece. Jane’s costume, her armor, and the frame that she put together from materials that Fashionista helped her get her hands on. The best part was that the materials were actually pristine, and not reclaimed junk that still had rust clinging to it. Jane felt…more than a little floored that this was all hers.

A pale blue and white layer of fabric underneath hardened layers of armor protecting her at arms, legs and chest with a full-face helmet that was no doubt made of something bulletproof…Hopefully. One of the arms of this suit was actually built to encase her mechanical right limb. Where the left arm of her cape outfits consisted of arm guards and a nylon glove for finger protection, the right one had what was essentially a mechanical sleeve with internal components designed to sync between her arm and what she wore over the outfit. Jane’s tinkering had no room for autonomy, therefore, she was both the battery and the computer for whatever she built, even if she was working with other tinkers.

She slid everything on. It all fit so perfectly. Everything Jane had been wearing over the last year was either stretched too thin, or clung too tightly to her. But this…It was made for her, and it actually felt like it. The inside felt so soft and smooth against her skin, it felt breathable, but also warm on the inside. Jane wasn’t prepared for realizing that it mattered so much that the inside felt warm. It was like wearing a blanket. Jane couldn’t help but stand there, looking at herself through the tinted visor of her helmet and feeling the connection of her right arm’s shell. Jane could feel the sensation of air over her arm, even though it was made of steel and layered with more metal. Her arm almost felt like flesh again.

There was something about seeing herself look so different, so unlike what she was once that caused Jane’s eyes to grow rather misty the longer she stared. She didn’t know why, but this just felt right. It felt cathartic in a way, like things were going her way for once. Maybe this would actually be a good thing, Jane thought to herself. Maybe she could feel like this more often, feel like she was comfortable in her own skin. She felt like she would like that, if she could choke back the tears she could feel welling up. Jane had to pull the helmet back off and rub her eyes for a minute and breathe. Fashionista put up with her long enough to construct all this just for her, and Jane struggled the whole way through to even get the idea across. She was so nice about it all, and it came out so good. The only reason she wasn't sobbing like an idiot right now was because she knew the others were still around and might hear her losing herself over a costume.

This was almost too much for her, and she hadn't even stepped inside the actual suit just yet.

Waiting in one of the HQ's wall-doors with the rest of the secured tinker-related gear was Jane might have called the "Rig" to her Scrap. It was a foot taller than her, about as bulky and heavy-duty as it could possibly be and was built to interface with Jane. It was a very bare machine on the inside, only having as much information to display as the driver's seat in a car, but it had all the necessities that a person would need for being classified as a Brute. While it didn't share the mechanical arm theme of her costume, it was equipped to receive signals from her brain, draw power from her passenger once she was inside, and if there was a god willingly to throw her a bone, function properly when a villain swung something at it. Jane walked around behind it and reached her arm towards the hulking shell as the plates in its back and midsection slid away with a loud whirring noise, revealing a hollow chasm that Jane was to climb inside with hand grips on the shoulders, and footholds in the back of its legs. When she climbed inside, Jane found her legs fit cozily inside of its own upper legs as comfortably as she did her costume. Her left arm was no exception, and once her right arm was slid into place, Jane felt a jolt of sensation go across it and up into her shoulder. The entrance she crawled into closed like a vault door, and the interior of the Rig came to life. The sound of hydraulics flexing and steel plates groaning signaled its rouse from slumber like a pair of lungs drawing in the first breath after a coma. The arms were heavy, but they felt like an extension of her own body. The midsection rumbled with the chime of interlocking, galvanized steel grates. The Rig's joints, made from free-spinning motors, all reached for the shard of Jane's powers, and she could feel the tug in her mind. Everything steadily stretched and loosened like muscles as her power filled the machine.

The gentle hum of metal sliding across metal was the sound-off she had been waiting for. When the lights flickered on inside the dome that served as a near 175-degree field of view, and the rails locked into place, the Rig was now declared alive. There was a hissing noise like a can of pressurized air being sprayed, and the limbs bent into alignment at their joints.



Jane, now six feet and seven inches tall, strode down through the basement back to where the rest of the Wards were. She was well over a head taller than them all in her Hulkbuster-esque machine.

"Wow, this- this thing actually works. That's two surprises today, I think." Her voice was transmitted from inside the cockpit of that metal statue through a radio speaker, and echoed throughout the halls. Jane wasn't kidding when she made things that were big and heavy. It's footsteps were announced by the sound of parahuman-powered hydraulics, and it had the momentum of a bulldozer.

"Ready to go."

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:10 PM.

Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

---

---

No. Fucking. Way.

Beverly's attention towards the energy sword-maker was instantly snatched away the moment Jane emerged once more. Not that you could tell it was her though, until she spoke up. It was....No, Beverly didn't have words for it. How could she? Her eyes couldn't help but soak in every little detail they could scrape from the make of her armor. It looked so....Solid. Built to last, to withstand. Nothing like what she had ever made, which broke so quickly, always designed for fleeting moments of action. There were no interlocking plates, or vulnerabilities in the design to speak of; not the barest crevice to strike, barring the necessity of mechanical joints, flexing and moving the limbs as naturally as she would her own.

Bev stared like a deer in the headlights, unable - or perhaps unwilling - to break contact. It was so amazing, so disconnected from anything she herself had ever made, and that just made it more of a sight to behold. She could envision it in action; power and speed in one unit, like an artificial Brute, breaking through obstacles and casting foes aside. By the time she realized what was happening, it was already too late. With a contented sigh from seeing such a marvel in person, she swooned, dropping like a sack of potatoes to the ground with the resounding 'clang' of the steel case cradling her back.

Fashionista, for her part, was in too much shock just watching it happen to even react.

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:10 PM.
Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

---

---

Aliyah shrugged at the mock inquiry, before offering her own input on the matter. Will returned her shrug and kept his smug grin in place, but his insides were still coiling. He was really hoping that she was wrong - if this wasn't a meeting or something PR-related, it was probably a fight.

Will had never been in a fist fight before, let alone a 'throwing fireballs at each other' fight. He wasn't eager to change that either.

Thankfully, he didn't have to keep up the unbothered act for long. Soon, part of the wall near the sofa just bent in on itself, opening up to reveal a woman in a fashionable suit. Will remembered her pretty well - Rachel was the person that inspired his costume. Or, more specifically, he just liked her outfit when they first met, and essentially copied it while adding a helmet. She wasn't the most dominant figure, but considering how Will felt about the Director, 'Fashionista' may as well have been the one really in charge of the kid.

Will noted the silent staring contest between the two directors, but quickly went back to his fake grin when Rachel started talking again.

"You all can call me what you wish, though Rachel's fine! Sadly, due to some...Unforeseen circumstances, we're gonna need to move things along faster than we would have hoped. ...But enough about that! I'll fill you all in on what's what as we go, and I'll get to show you all your costumes! My favorite part!"

She quickly strode to one of the other doors that was in the spartan-like lounge, heels clicking as she did so. The door was thick and looked like some kind of blast shield or vault door, rather than the doors upstairs had been... Actually, that's how most of the doors down here looked. 'Maybe I'm not the only one that struggles to control his power.' Will smirked at the thought. It was easy to Will-proof, just give out some earplugs. How would they 'Blaster-proof' a team of people? Give them all fire-retardant costumes?

Instantly, the smug grin fell from Will's face. That would have been a great thing to ask for! Dammit!

A few seconds passed as Rachel scanned her palm, and the door eventually hissed and slid to the side, allowing the group to enter.

The locker room, at a superficial glance, seemed pretty similar to what Will was used to from his school - lockers lined the walls, white tile floors, and benches to sit on. Of course, it was only similar on the first inspection. Actually looking closely, everything was clearly leagues more developed than a school locker room ('As it should be', Will thought). Each of the lockers seemed to have another one of those panels that Rachel had used to open the Locker room in the first place, and everything here looked specifically designed to take a beating.

Will was confused for a second, but he quickly rationalized it. Some brutes don't know their strength, and if this is where they keep costumes, it's probably where Tinkers will keep their armor. It would make sense for everything here to be built for durability.

Rachel gave a brief run down about where their equipment would be located and where to return it, which made Will a bit relieved. With how things were going, he was seriously thinking that they'd expect him to keep his costume on him - the last thing he wanted was a reminder of this nightmare situation when he was off the clock. Rachel passed out their ID cards, Will taking it from her with little fanfare. His face on the card has a smug, shit-eating grin - it had been taken only a few minutes after he had spiked the coffee in the HQ with laxatives, and 30 minutes after he had clogged every toilet on that floor.

Just looking at it made him realize why some people probably didn't like him. Even Will kind of wanted to wipe that look off his own face.

By now, he had finally given up hope. They were absolutely going into a fight. The look the directors gave one another, the tension in the air - maybe the psychos on this team that signed up willingly were excited, but Will was rapidly losing faith.

The only redeeming factor to this was that, in all likelihood, Will would never actually fight someone. He'd stick with the PRT in the far back, maybe only get sent in to deal with hostages or something. They'd have to be pretty incompetent to send him in to fight with the others...

Will kept silent as he made his way into the male changing rooms and retrieved his costume, slowly getting changed into the much nicer formal wear.

'They're going to send me in with the others, aren't they?'

It was an errant thought - probably more of his pessimistic streak showing. It didn't really make sense to send a Master like him to a fight, but maybe they'd want to use it for PR or as a team-building exercise - Will was focusing on the absolute worst-case scenario, his mood spoiled even further.

Shut up. Breathe. Will leaned against the wall of the changing room, inhaling as deeply as he could, before slowly releasing, the tension in his shoulder ebbing at the motion.

'Another difference from this locker room and the school's - this locker room doesn't smell like ass.'

His panic attack safely avoided, Will took the moment to admire himself in the mirror. The black jacket of the suit was snug and heavier than his 'casual' one, but hugged his torso better - despite his shrimpy body, he actually looked pretty damn good in the thing. The trousers and undershirt weren't anything to write home about, but that was probably for the best. Will wanted to be able to pass off as an average guy, and a suit jacket as expensive-looking as this one just meant that he'd probably get mugged on his patrol. He'd be able to dress down if necessary, and the dress shoes felt like Will could run in them without cutting into his ankles.

The most notable part of the costume, however, was the helmet. Despite the visor being completely blackened, the thing didn't hinder his field of view in the slightest - almost like it was one-way glass or something. With this, he wouldn't need to worry about keeping fake smiles all the time - just has to keep the body language up and he's golden. More importantly, though, the thing had enough cushioning within that it wasn't just comfortable to wear, but would probably keep even someone as fragile as Will from getting a concussion.

All in all, the outfit was basic and discreet - but that was exactly what Will had wanted when he requested it on his last visit. He'd have to thank Rachel. This job so far had been pretty terrible, with the prospect of meeting crazy people that dress in spandex and fly around for a living being one of the worst parts.

But if everyone on the team acted like they have so far, maybe this job wouldn't be as bad as Will thought it would be.

Just as Will thought this, he left the changing rooms and immediately walked in on Caiden poking at the cloth of his costume with some kind of glowing sword. He commented on the durability of the costume, before the others that had also finished began complimenting his ability. He was about to give his own compliment, if only to fit in with the others, when he felt a strange kind of thudding.

Coming from the women's side of the changing room, someone in power armor began walking toward the rest of the group. Will didn't even need to wait for her voice to recognize who it was - they only had two tinkers on the team, and one of them was already here. Jane was now one of the scariest members of the team in Will's mind, and she had instantly shattered the little bit of confidence his costume had given him.

Probably for the best though - last thing Will needed was getting invested in this Hero shit.

Maybe it was because his expectations had already been pretty low, but Will seemed to snap out of the shock of seeing Jane's suit pretty quickly. The boy let loose a long whistle, glad to see that his helmet didn't seem to muffle his voice.

"Yeesh, looks like we found who wins at costumes. Jesus! How long did you have to work on it? I'm not really keen on the Tinker stuff."

Will made a fist and tapped the knuckles on his helmet, eliciting a soft clicking sound as he turned to Rachel.

"Not that I don't appreciate what I got going on - thanks for the hard work, Rachel. Just what I wanted."

Now seemed like a good time to lay praise on her, since everyone else was too - though, she might not have registered it, considering the shock on her face. Will could give her a more sincere thanks when the others weren't around, or maybe send her a gift basket.

He'd been pretending to ignore it, but Will was carefully listening in on Fukuda and Morie's conversation. He hadn't expected her to be the one to be direct about things - as a matter of fact, Will was planning to bitch and moan until they finally gave him an answer to that question. But it didn't really matter how the answer came out - all Will wanted was to know if he'd have to actually do anything for this... Mission? Assignment?

It sounded so ridiculous. All of this was stupid.

But of course, just when he started focusing, things had to go wrong.

A loud clang of metal rang out, and Will snapped towards it, jumping back. He was thankful that his helmet had been darkened as much as it was - otherwise those around him would see the fear on his face.

It sounded too familiar. Too-

Will pushed it down. He quickly made his way to Bev, gently slinging her arm over his shoulder and trying to get her back to her feet.

"Yep, power armor is real cool, no need to fall-"

He only realized halfway through the motion that he was one of the weakest people in the room, second only to the middle school girl Carmen.

"Ah crap, crap... Crap! Okay I'm a twig, someone help please!"

Will didn't see who came to his aid - for all he knew Bev just helped herself back up. This failure only served to cement his position on the team in his mind, however.

Looking at everyone in the room, Will couldn't help but feel a little annoyed - one of them could make swords out of light, another could make a gun out of thin air. One of them was apparently so good that they had a fanboy on the team, and one girl had a damn suit of power armor. Everyone here could kick his ass. Most of them could do it with both hands tied behind their back.

Will was out of his league here, and he knew it. He just...

He just really hoped that the Directors knew it too.

Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:12 PM.

Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

---

---

Fashionista watched, beaming with pride in both The Wards and her own work, as they strode back out clad in their new Cape-garb. They all just looked so good in it! Even Carmen, who she could tell (somewhat unsurprisingly; the cost of sticking strictly to what the middle-schooler had laid out for her) wasn't fully appreciating hers. They could talk though; there was always room for improvement in anything, costumes included.

Hearing all the kids heaping praise onto her, Rachel gave a joking roll of her eyes. "Alright, alright; enough buttering me up for now. You all look great! And since someone decided to give them a test run..." She casts a side glance to Caiden, more teasing than anything else. "...I'll tell you upright, so you don't get ahead of yourselves. Yes, the costumes are pretty darn tough, courtesy of me, but you're far from invincible. They can all turn a knife away or absorb most of the shock from a blunt object. Maybe even stop some low-caliber bullets....But don't test that." At that last sentence, she gains a serious edge to her tone, looking across the group to ensure it's understood.

"I'm afraid that they won't stop some of the things you may come up against, so remember to be careful. I trust you all to be smart and stay out of excess danger. Are we clear?" You could practically feel the Mom energy in her closing words, sternly passing her gaze upon the children. She didn't want to suddenly seem mean or strict, but it was important that they understood at least this much.

Satisfied, she turned her attention to the last arrival; the ironclad Jane, of course, with a powersuit that, admittedly, Rachel was quite proud to have a hand in....However small it was. She couldn't stop the smile that crept over her even if she wanted to, watching their combined efforts bear the fruit of locomotion. Though...She didn't expect what happened next, that being Beverly's abrupt collapse.

Blinking away her stunned condition, the Vice Director gave Wilbur the hand he needed...Though even with his help, it was a struggle. Fashionista knew Bev's kit would complicate matters if it came to extraction with her extra baggage, but it wasn't just that. Heaving the girl up, she could feel the unbelievable tension in her muscles, almost as stiff as boards. No amount of simple stress would cause this. Had she not slept well the past night? Or...Was it something more?

Letting the concern slip to the side for the time being, Workshop was back on her feet, her dazed eyes flittering open as she found her footing once more. "Oh! Easy now, Bev. You had a bit of a spill....You feeling alright?" The teen managed to give a nod, slowly straightening herself up once more. With a sigh of relief, Rachel slowly relinquished her grasp of her, allowing her to stand on her own.

With everyone settled once more, Fashionista looked upon the group with a small smile. "Okay! There's one other major area I need to show to our prospective Tinkers, so in the meantime, I think someone owes you all an explanation..." Beckoning The Wards once more, she rounds her way out of the Changing Room to confront the Director once more.

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Date/Time: November 11th, 2022. 6:12 PM.

Location(s): Redline PRT Headquarters

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'Fuck. Me.'

Those two words went through the Director's head as he hung up with the Guardians. Without time to spare, he was already jumping to the next big hurdle...Paperwork. Virtual paperwork, that is. Written copies could be handled by some desk jockeys, but since he was the one privy to the oh-so-gracious foresight from the Think Tank, he could at least prep some of the necessities for what was to come. Damage assessments for both the museum and mayor's abode (as, no doubt, damage would be dealt somehow....), reparations for said damages, and more. The miserable monotony that is impermeably attached to his work. Still, the earlier it was handled, the more time he'd have to handle these brats and, if he was lucky, teach them something useful before they're shoved out into a burning hellscape.

He found his work interrupted by a voice; female, but not the one he'd anticipated. Whirling around in his seat and casually sliding the datapad away, he found himself face-to-face with...Memento. Huh. The barest notion of surprise, the slightest arch of a brow, was present seeing this. 'Just about the last one of them I'd expect to come to me with something.' He thought to himself, as curious as he was annoyed; which is to say, to both, not very much.

Yeah, her question left something to be desired. With a sigh, he looked Morie in the eyes, locking onto them. "Morgan. You're a smart kid, so I don't think you need me to answer that question." He left her question of 'danger' at that, but chose to elaborate some more on her request of a clone. "As for a copy...Simple enough. We'll have Rachel stop by with your costume and get you suited up before you head out. But for the time being, you should..."

He found himself cut off, as Fukuda stared past Morie to see the gaze of Rachel, with the entourage of Cape-clad (thank God not literally, for the most part; capes are a huge pain in the ass) children following behind. A small groan escaped from him, only audible to Morie. "...Yeah, yeah, I'll handle it." The Director said, casually waving off Rachel as she couldn't help but roll her eyes. The Vice Director gave a soft smile to Morie before turning her attention to the Tinkers in the room, Rachel and Beverly. "Since that's the case...When Fukuda's done giving the laydown, follow me; I'll show off the...Um...." Thinking on it for a bit, she abruptly decided on a new name for the room in question, divorcing it from the name of one of their members. "....The Proving Grounds. Yep."

For most, the exchange near the end would've felt awkward, but Rachel made even that feel natural and charming, waving off the gaggle of teens before heading her way through a new doorway, with a staircase that seemed to head further down....This, of course, only left Director Fukuda behind to explain to them exactly what they were getting into. Great.

"I'll be frank. With some heads-up I've received, we've become aware of an attack on both the Museum of Parahuman History further downtown, as well as another location I'll be leaving undisclosed. Most of The Guardians are preparing to handle the other incident, with a few who'll be tagging along for your endeavor as well. Truth be told, we don't know who - or what - will be the source of the attack. With any luck, something you all can manage...."

He looked between them all, gazes of fear, anticipation, anxiety, and even confidence; a peculiar mix of emotions. But he still wasn't done, of course. "....Now, I won't sugarcoat this. Most villains, even in Redline, are above killing heroes; they know the kind of retribution it'd call down on them. You kids are no exception....But don't let your guard down. They'll still beat you to a pulp if you get in the way. Some more than others. You'll need to watch each other's backs out there, and play things smart. You've got..." Fukuda casually checks his wristwatch, looking at the time. "...A bit more than half an hour. Make it count; explain the ins and outs of your tricks to each other, figure out what each of you are -and most importantly, aren't- capable of, and think up workarounds. And as for you two?" His gaze turned to Jane and Bev, the smallest smirk playing on his face.

"You two've got last-minute work to do."

With that, feeling satisfied in his explanation, the Director went right back to work; paperwork wouldn't handle itself. If they needed to ask him something, he'd answer, but hopefully by now they'd pick up what he was putting down. Sooner or later tonight...It'd all be on them. They have to bring their A-Game, whatever that may qualify as.