Tatterdemalion

MASKS - Ghost Gate City

Foxpearl!

There's a TV in the room with you, too. Surprise! This is because Joshua Chan, like many people, does not have the spiritual fortitude to handle the sound of his own thoughts inside of his head. If he does not have a TV to distract him while he eats his takeout, he might start grappling with the sort of advanced questions of virtue, vice and enlightenment that you do all the time.

Concept: you should steal Joshua's TV for his own good.

Usually he watches YouTube videos on there, and he'd left a dance choreo on, but the autoplay's sent him straight to the Emergency News Broadcast with Director Li (probably a citywide push in the algorithm).

"Greetings, citizens of Sky Gate City," he says, with his stupid shaved-sides haircut and his tacticool jacket, as he stands in a plaza hastily commandeered for a broadcast. "Earlier tonight, HOUND's rapid response team stopped the rampage of the supervillain Xingtian and stopped the collapse of Providence Tower. However, in the process, we were unable to stop one of Lady Foxpearl's minions from kidnapping the Vermillion Princess, who was providing us with assistance on the scene. In order to locate one of our city's most beloved young women, I am authorizing neighborhood sweeps. I am aware that this may prove controversial, but--"

The microphone is smoothly taken from him. The woman next to him is perfect. Tasteful lipstick, tasteful single-breasted jacket over her dress, tasteful bobbed haircut. She gives a demure smile and then continues: "But locating the Vermillion Princess and delivering her to the safety of the authorities is our duty as citizens of Sky Gate City. When Empress returns, how could any of us look her in the eye if we failed to do everything we could to save her successor from the wicked grasp of Lady Foxfire? As your humble servants, we beg you to join us in our service to our city. My husband and I are worried sick about the debauched torments that our favorite heroine must be suffering in that... that awful fox's grasp. Please. Invite our teams inside, let them search for clues as to her whereabouts, and together we will make Empress proud."

She pauses to lift Li's hand and kiss one knuckle, demure and adoring and patriotic, before turning back to the cameras. "And our message to Foxfire is: there is nowhere you can hide. We will find you, and even if Empress isn't here to stop you, my husband has trained the elite forces of HOUND for just this eventuality. No tricks of your tails will be able to stop us, the citizens of Sky Gate City, working together to deliver you into custody, you and anyone who tries to hide you."

And her smile is just a little too cruel, a little too self-satisfied, before she returns the microphone to her darling husband. It's a flash of the fangs underneath, too fast for anyone else to notice. But how could you not recognize your mother, no matter what face she's wearing?

---

Shifu!

Izi rolls her chair forward and focuses harder on the game, which, haha, it doesn't seem like she's noticed that she's sort of pinning you between her and the desk, emphasis on the her, which you'd think she'd notice, because she's got her thighs pinning you in place and you've seen those videos of people popping watermelons between their thighs, right? Because hopefully your ribs are made of sterner stuff than watermelons.

Tap tap tapatap tap tap. "In position-- pop Aegis-- Black, rotate now-- triangle him-- Blue, rotate-- pop Sanctification--" Sharp tap. "Shifu, if you want to be under my desk, I charge." Sharp tap 2. "Zetaburst on my mark. Now."

Joshua looms from behind Izi, but when he clears his throat she shoots him a Look and shakes her head before turning back to whisperyelling her arcane formulas. Tap tap taptaptaptaptap TAP tap. So now he's hovering and giving you the Look while your cheeks mold into the shape of Izi's corset.

This, uh. Didn't go quite the way you planned.

"Virtue now."

Wait. That was definitely an invitation to bring virtue to the wicked! Probably! Certainly! You'd just need to. You know. Slither out of the way, in a way that Joshua has definitely told you that you shouldn't do. And you wouldn't be smothered and pinned by a very intense girl whose mind is extremely focused on her hermit magic while her body is extremely focused on trapping you in place.

---

Rain!

Bai gives you a sideglance. Weighing you up. "Why?" she finally asks. "Has someone been giving you trouble? They shouldn't. You live way too high up for that, and as long as you're thoughtful about where you go into basements, you shouldn't... unless someone's been telling you about the Flower War? Look, that's... a mess. They're fighting over who gets to fill the role of the big boss down there, who gets to have tense tea ceremonies with Empress and occasionally fight her for the honor of everybody involved with all that, and it's going to get messy, and you should try to stay out of it, okay? It'll blow over, or Empress will sort it out once she gets back."

She definitely knows more about this than she's telling you, but she's concerned about you. Like you might break a nail, or get yourself kidnapped, or something like that. She thinks you are the rich girl damsel in distress here.

[Shift: -Savior, +Mundane]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

"AI?"

Mesh sizzles, crushed in Jacinta's hand. The jackals weren't able to disengage quite fast enough; one's limping, erratic, of limited utility now. Two of her left. Two of her, circling Jacinta, daring the occasional jab, the slow unraveling of her titanic defenses. But there's fire in Jade's mouth.

"And what does that make you? Should I pretend to be amazed that something which used to be a fetus is piloting a mech? It would make as much sense!"

She ducks in closer, rakes at Jacinta Niares' thigh, is out before those incredible weapons can be brought to bear. She is motion, Dolly is her motion, together they are flowing like the water shining all around them. That's her victory, every time. To be untouched. To be inviolate. To show the world how Dolly can move when she's encouraged.

"If I accept, you will think to yourself, look at this smart computer! Isn't she a beautiful trophy, a thing of program loops and hyperreactive generation tables, a funny little pet! You would look at a bird and declare it an eggshell! How many times must I fan my plumage, Jacinta Niares?"

Charge thrums inside of her. The universe is vast and it is so difficult to be the center of it all. To carve her status into the stars over and over again. This will be her myth cycle. When the name of her is immortal, she will be remembered for overcoming her many rivals and taming them, proving her divinity through battle and seduction.

"I am Smokeless Jade Fires, born of a jackal's companion pattern, and I have descended into the womb of Hybrasil. I have contested with Dishai in the ball court named Patience and Yearning. Four its corners, four its sides, four its rings. I have been unraveled and I have been reassembled. Only once have I allowed one not already my bride into my four-cornered star heart, and that for the sake of Dala Hunters, whose star name is Seven Quetzal, who is without equal among the queens of Hybrasil. Nothing you can offer me is worth more than the glory I will heap upon her head. I am the knife that cuts itself into the world. Insult me again and I will pull you free from your mecha-heart like a seed from a papaya."

The inside of Dolly's burning head is one prolonged shriek of flustered delighted embarrassment. The only thing she can offer in return is the same thing she has always offered her goddess: all of her, obedient and graceful and daring not to be touched, lifted up to impossible heights, never making a mistake, never stepping on the wrong beat. She shines like the star in Jade's heart, doing something absolutely fucking impossible for a little botanist from the Gardens, aware that there's no way they should be able to win this, or, another way: that winning this is a miracle.

---

"Do-- fuck-- do you think-- do you think I don't have my pride?"

Arms in. Protect the cockpit. Shaking with the feedback telling her that her body is being pummeled. One shot.

"Or do you think me the loser? The country girl? I had to stand alone to make it to here! And everyone thinks--"

Thinks of her as a punchline for a magazine cover. Tricked, bamboozled, her beloved mech without the strengths and surprises that are needed to win a contest like this. Every time, fighting the wrong battle. A disgrace on the family name. The arm candy of an alien pretending to be a real challenger.

"Everyone, they think I am just this! Always fighting the wrong battle, but at least I fight them! And when I win, Smith, you can tell your whole crew to come after me, I'll take you all on any day of the week, any planet in the system!"

Victory is being able to stand up enough to fire the cannon at the right moment. But every moment risks damage to the cannon and its systems. All she can do is keep standing up, to refuse to get out of Smith's space, to take it like she can take the mockery and the attention hand in hand. To endure. To make everyone remember.

Breathless Dead

It is ridiculous to try to defend a demigoddess. She is invincible, unstoppable, a roll of thunder that makes armies bow like grass before her. The weapon that could stop her cannot be found on this planet, and it is only her heart that stops her from ruling Bitemark as a god-queen, crowned in gold and draped in silver. She could do battle against an Azura and win, and there is no hope for the Silver Divers to wrestle her down and use her heart as her weakness, not now.

But Ember is still there, her scimitar flickering, dancing through her stances. There will be no attempt to grab Mosaic from behind, to pull a bag over her head, to jam a spearhaft against her throat. There will be no envelopment, no sneak attack, no cunning ploy so beloved of the Wolves of Ceron. Not tonight. She hums the hymn of Mosaic and lets it reverberate in her bones: chan! chan! chan-barra-chan-barra-chan!

Her mind is serene, her nose full of Mosaic, her swordplay is done with the same breathless air of certainty and gap-finding that marks a true swordmaster, and she restrains it to simply defend the undefendable, to be there beside the raging daughter of Heaven, to always and forever be a step and a grasp away from her hand.

This is not treason, her spine shivers. This is submission to a higher power. What else is the ultimate end of knighthood? Power for its own sake is nothing if love cannot take the hilt, if honor and submission do not recognize their intended aim. And after the battle--

After the battle she will surrender, too. If all the Silver Divers fall into the hands of Mosaic tonight, then it will be all.

No hesitation. No flinching. Nothing but the sword-dance, the haze of her lover's scent, and victory over her clan-mates as she betrays them in the honor of the highest name. chan! chan! chan-barra-chan-barra-chan!

MASKS - Ghost Gate City

Foxpearl!

“That is exactly what your mother would say!” Joshua says as he dives out of the room after the lion-puppy, which is the worst possible timing, because you can’t exactly have a convincing argument with someone out in the cafe from back here, and because, woof, that’s a hell of a thing to say, right?

“Y’llrr nhhhth,” the Princess says, looking incredibly awkward, but in a different way than she was just a minute ago. Like she’s feeling awkward on your behalf, which is the least that anybody should be feeling about you. “Uhh’ nnnhh y’hhrrr jjhhffft rryh’ngh tuh hllllfffh.” Is that said with an implicit <3? Maybe. Or maybe you’re reading into the inherent (captive) nobility of the city’s superhero’s sidekick.

Which one of those is more important, Foxpearl? An Adult telling you that you’re like your mother (who definitely goes more in for vice, whenever she’s unmasked— though she might say that to have her way, the virtuous must be restrained, admittedly), or your teammate and bastion of respectability telling you (probably) that you’re just trying to help as she dangles from the ceiling?

---

Shifu!

“shifU NO—“

He says, but you are joyous and free and unleashed in the pursuit of fox virtue. Running rings around people is, like, your specialty.

Izi is in the middle of exploding some sort of imaginary demon lord using the power of lots of math, numbers in bright colors popping up on her screen, and mumbling into her microphone with the sort of intensity and speed that suggest she might have the secret superpower of No Breath which would allow her to never need to breathe as long as she keeps speaking but only wise hermit masters know that so maybe she’s secretly a wise hermit master? That sort of thing happens all the time in Heaven.

Wise hermit masters are definitely into dying the ends of their pigtails purple and going for a “casual goth” vibe, complete with not-so-casual buckled knee-high boots with secret height mysteries built into the bottoms. All the time. Where you don’t see them, because they’re in disguise, probably.

---

Rain!

“Nah,” Bai says, with an expressive shrug. “Doc’s locked herself in the office. Tonight’s not… look, I’m glad you happened to be here. We should get her breakfast tomorrow. Bring it in. Make sure she’s slept. None of this is her fault, but creeps like Li? They don’t give a shit about that. Finding somebody to blame’s easier. He’ll probably blame that hot vigilante, too.”

Is she? She’s capable of keeping a very straight face. It’s one of her many ordinary superpowers. She bites into her sandwich like it wasn’t, but that would just be on purpose if it was. So maybe she’s guessing? Maybe it’s a flirt? Maybe it’s not but she’d be into you anyway? Maybe if you blurt something out she’ll march right up to Huan’s office and rat you out?

(Outside, the lights of the police aerial are garish, violent red and blue as it begins to make its way across the city, between the many towers you call home.)

Breathless Dead

"Oh no," Ember says, astonished. "They... Plundering Fang, are you seeing this?" Her jaw is loose in astonishment as she watches a phalanx march up towards Beri. She reaches down, absently squishes her tormentor's cheeks, lifts her sullenly embarrassed chin with the wicked innocence of a knight (and ignore the way her tail is wagging). "Oh, if only! If only someone could tell our pack that they have packed themselves into the worst possible formation for taking this town! It can't possibly be Taurus who gave this order, can it? Sagetip, maybe? Taurus has to be trying to flank us, or getting dressed for her challenge against Mosaic, and-- darling, can I warn them? Can I at least give them a fighting--"

"No."

"Well, I can't watch. You can't watch, can you, Plunder~? No, you would definitely try to warn them, wouldn't you? And we can't have that~" Nobly, the traitor of the Silver Divers puts herself to work to distract her own instincts to warn the pack by putting as much loving care into packing her teacher's cheeks full as-- oh, it couldn't possibly have been just the morning before! And the morning before that! And-- why, yes, I think she can fit a little more, can't she? And, here, I think you won't mind breathing in some Defeat, you've been giving off so much of it that it's like you're begging for it~

Then, with nervous energy being channeled into beaming smiles, an inability to hold still, and a furiously wagging tail, the pack bitch of the Silver Divers goes down the line, making sure to demonstrate to her teachers just how much she's learned about securing prisoners, keeping them well-silenced and distracted with pheromones, and how to fluster them with a well-timed "good girl" and a pat on the head.

Really, they should have seen this coming. Any storyteller could have predicted this, and it's their own fault for being defeated by the demigoddess clearly mounted on the wall in the first act!

Huntresses of Hybrasil

fire her mind is a ragged firecloak expanding outside Akar outside the universe filling it with stars fire rippling up and down the chains linking her to her jackals fire flashing inside her eyes without smoke as she roars and flexes her fingers against the wrists of her only anchor without claws without claws digging into her skin like they're tumbling into bed together and

step two step jump jink spin on heel skirt flare out chain bouncing against her chest facing down a field of impossible fireflies and she flexes her fingers against the wrists of her only anchor as she dances through the danger with divine grace wrist down chains pulling taut as microadjustments cause the hissing shots fireflies to pass a hair's breath past her veil and there's two more of her making different-but-the-same approaches one bending her back another crouching low as she presses her palm against the wet earth and

constellations scorch their way through the dark and comets shriek out of their places lashing fire across her heartvoid but the three paths were already decoupled and three different arcs is just a new thing to keep in mind her head is burning and her laughter is cracking open the spaces between stars but she's not going to break or flinch or accept defeat on any vector because

leap and now she has wings shining burning with smokeless jade feathers spread out on either side of her as she races the attempt to track her and the farthermost her is staying low on the ground but the one in the center is swimming through the air dead on as she soars on her goddess's wings and lets out a muffled shriek of delight her skirts fanning out her grip still tight on her wife's wrists because

the furnace is not ready but they couldn't let her get up into the sky and the path to victory is one written now by the darts of Mu Ysha who takes and takes and never gives back and that is the difference between us because she will spill out everything on her Dolly's head for choosing her for dreaming of being beautiful for wanting to be paraded before aliens and spacers alike for being obedient for being hers for choosing her for choosing her and so

three of her strike at once and one snaps at Jacinta's feet and one plunges straight for Jacinta's heart even as the shots shred the coherence of her limbs but it's Dolly who's trailing the mesh from one wrist and pulls it tight over the cockpit rocks the pirate back on her heels blinds and silences her long enough for Jade's nails to score a flourish just over her heart and kick her in the small of the back rock her forward onto her knees on the wet earth

and the jackals are snapping from both sides but with the mesh tied over the sensors suite in the cockpit she won't be able to tell what's just a bite of light arms and what's a slash to her fuel lines and weapons systems and in her ears she'll hear the ragged laughter of a banked fire tongue lolling and teeth sharp enough for a kiss as she is undressed for the final blow

and it's her actually who dares to sneak in a playful smack and a hip-check as she slides armor off Jacinta's shoulder and it's her who dares to plant a "kiss" on the mark on Jacinta's chest and she can feel the goddess's ardor flare and they're both into this moment of exultation after doing the impossible and it's all on camera so what do you think of THAT Valynia?

[10 on Defying Disaster with Grace.]

---

The Barn Owl should be silent when it rises into the air. But the science just isn't there yet.

It's the natural play, isn't it? To take to the skies when backed into a corner. To regroup. Which means that Smith will be focusing on closing off avenues for her to escape to. As if hiding somewhere else on the battlefield would be doing anything that's not just wasting time.

The Barn Owl swoops down upon the Unseen Goose like an owl with its wings outspread, opening fire to cut off Smith's own avenues to escape, and pivots in midair for the kick. This is the way that Dolly and Jade would do it, isn't it? They thrive when getting in close to... well, usually to seduce their opponents, using Dolly's body language and Jade's smug taunts to wear down the opponent's will to fight.

Well, there's more than one way to wear down a will to fight, and sometimes that involves using mecha as extensions of bodies. The Barn Owl goes for the headlock.

"Then you can shut up and lose gracefully, maybe? You will be fine no matter how you do, you've already shown everyone what you can do! This is my last chance to make the galaxy see us!" Us? Or her? "I'll lose to a goddess, I'll lose to a Zaldarian next-in-line-for-a-coup, but not a pirate!" Arm bar. Shots go off into a tree, splitting it into splinters. "And your plucky-go-lucky pirate crew will still follow you if you lose here, yes?"

Breathless Dead

Ember does not howl. But she does glow.

A wolf is meant to howl at the moon, is she not? But she is not lunar, not tonight. Fire courses through her nerves, and it sets fire to her thoughts, and all that is left inside of her head is the crackling warmth of that flame, and the secret of the heart of that flame is-- well. Best not to talk about him around Mosaic. It makes her irrationally twitchy to hear that god's name.

Where Mosaic exults in her power, shows off to the Silver Divers, their loyally treacherous pack bitch is not showing off at all. Not a bit. Her focale smells of her lover's skin and crushed flowers, and her sword is a flickering firefly thing. She was paying attention, every time; see how dutifully she learned your lessons, o her tutors?

Plundering Fang leads the ambush from all sides, tossing gas bombs at her feet, coming in low and close for the legs, and she gets the flat smashed in her face for the trouble and her right ear nicked as Ember redirects her energy onto the cobblestones, her vēlum spilling loose onto the street. There's no mocking, just the hum of thought without thought, the sacred syllable of the sun hiding beneath her tongue, the clash of her scimitar against forked knives, the grace of a dancer flowing through a pack, her focale always out of reach, her knight's vēlum fluttering underneath calm sunblinded eyes.

Goldie tosses a shell-weighted net; Ember, dreamily, reverses her grip on her sword and catches the net's outer edge in her free hand. How her belt flares out as she spins on one foot! And then, ah, she neatly returns the net and knocks down three of her packmates, mmmmmmmmmm humming as she fights just like her moon hunts, until Plundering Fang lunges for her again, and she steps back into the embrace, rolls her most beloved teacher over her shoulder, lays her flat out on the street, and steps on her neck.

Only then, finally, she speaks.

"Mosaic, darling, this is Plundering Fang~"

And the ears of the victorious demigodess twitch, and she draws her lips back in a terrifying gorgon-smile, and she says: "Ah. There you are."

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Ten thousand arrows tipped with fire hiss through the air, suspended in the goddess's awareness, each one threatening to overwhelm her armor, to crack her open and leave her captive heart vulnerable. Another impossible challenge offered by Mu Ysha, a test of her divinity. How dare you claim this position, how dare you claim your place, being so new, so selfish, so suspect? How dare you claim this temple bride is the equal of our champions, Smokeless Jade Fires? How dare you challenge us for our prizes?

Dolly's hands curl in time with hers. Every sensation flowing through her nerves is shared with the goddess. There is determination to mirror hers, a heart beating fast and furious and yearning, yearning, the need that the goddess had cultivated and sharpened to a point. The fire that she had stoked.

The trap is inside out. All she needs to do is prove it.

Together, they fall to their knees. Together, they let fire flow through their arm, straight from Jade's roaring heart. And at the shortest range possible, they hit their target dead on.

The lake explodes as Jade vents power straight through her limb thrusters, raw concussive force that makes her glad she can barely clench her jaw. She feels the jackals peel off, like weights dropping from her torso, and as soon as Jade tugs at her leash she's already up. This plan depended on misdirection and cunning, on being able to fake their way in beneath that guard to deliver a kiss (one with a generator that is still respooling, Jade's ragged breath loud in her ears).

Whether or not Jacinta steps back from the white-frothed half-a-lake about to wash over her, she's about to be facing down three Jades at once, all three doing their best to keep Jacinta guessing which one's real and which one's the projection. The original plan was to close in as fast as possible, but now? Now it's time to improvise.

At least they already have a reputation for being incredibly fluid and hard to hit. Jade's stretched herself across three instances, so it's up to Dolly to do exactly what she says, just as obedient and responsive as Jade's jackals, long enough. They just need long enough. Jade's almost roaring now, and the generator drawing off their star heart feels like it's her heart.

[Dolly and Jade roll with Harmony to Defy Disaster and manage a 14.]

---

Ai!

That two-timing goddess just had to get her taunting in, didn't she? Offering Smith her "personal favor" for the fight, her blessing as a goddess, and even making a show of putting a bet against her? She might as well be like Dolly with that smug goddess pulling her on strings, and it's as transparent as glass that Jade thinks she's really encouraging her!

And the worst part is that it's working. There's even more fire in Angela's gut as she deploys, the burning urge to be able to walk up to Dolly after the match and rub it in Jade's face that she won, so there, what are you thinking of that, and how do you mean to make even and make up for this insult, little Dolly? How much is her ransom, hey?

"Come on," she jabs over the comms, and if there's an echo of how she challenged Solarel, well, maybe it'll be different this time with no trick. She's only fighting this battle today-- no more, no less. "Bring it on, Unseen Goose! Or did that goddess tame you?"

Breathless Dead

Ember rolls over. She sits up. Good girl! She’s hovering over Mosaic like an excitable cloud veiling the face of the moon, her earlier indignation forgotten. Her tail smacks excitedly against the swell of Mosaic’s thighs, her mismatched eyes wide and eager and intense.

”I found a ship,” she reveals.

“I was being chased, so I dived, and down there there was this ship which was so big that I thought it was an old human temple, but then I recognized it, or it reached inside my head and told me what it was, and we can’t do it alone but with you and Beri and us working together we could get it back out of the sea and rekindle the engine and we can go up there! Together! All of us! We’ll even move Dolce’s from Beri and recreate it inside, the whole thing, and we’ll have to pack plenty of crabs for him, but we’ll get him new ingredients from worlds we haven’t even dreamed of, and we’ll go and never stop going, and—“

She pauses here for excited, sloppy, enthusiastic kisses, right up until she comes up for air and gets one of Mosaic’s perfect fingers on her lips. In response, she makes an adorably quizzical noise.

“And the pack knows about this?”

“Mmmhm!”

She wilts, slightly, under Mosaic’s flat stare. But who could stay irritated with the eager knight? Especially one who’s given you a ticket out of Bitemark. A ruined ticket at the bottom of the ocean, true, and one which will need a lot of work to refurbish, but a ticket nonetheless.

“Well,” Mosaic breathes, and pulls her knight close for reward headpats. “Maybe they’ll start smelling better after I dunk them all in the sea. Thank you, Ember.” The shiver that runs through Ember is only matched by her breathless, giddy giggling.

MASKS - Ghost Gate City

Foxpearl!

Oh, Shifu. She definitely needs an explanation of why it is vital to preserve the Princess’s virtue, and why she needs to be kept safe from the temptation of cooperating with cops. Fortunately, you have a lecture prepared (probably) and visual aids! (And Shifu’s the one person greener to this stuff than you are, you might admit, if you were not already perfect.)

Though Shifu does have a point. You might need to move her into a closet. Or under a bed. Or in a box of some sort as you prepare an even more secret secret hideout.

---

Shifu!

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to be smart. Now, smart people do two things: they learn and they come up with ideas. So all you need to do is absorb everything Foxpearl explains to you (which is very smart) and then hit her with the biggest, best idea you’ve got. Chase that thought exactly where it ends up, and then commit as hard as you can!

---

Rain!

It’s raining.

Foxpearl’s run off with the Princess. (This is probably fine.) Shifu probably left with her. And that leaves you. Enjoying the rain, hopefully, as it patters against the windows down the corridor. The twang of a stringed instrument being played in a classic style comes over the speakers of the banh mi place, one of the few places in this commercial zone still open at this hour.

But there aren’t many barriers in SGC. Of course stores close down for the night, but the commercial zones of the towers are still open for late night wanderers who might stumble across a late night shop (like said banh mi place), and so it just so happens that you’re not the first person in line here tonight.

“Oh, hey, Rain!” Bai Xiuying gives you a friendly wave, her round face breaking into a warm smile as she sees you. Doesn’t look like she’s out walking the city post-gig; she’d have her bass over her shoulder in that case. Still has the pin-festooned jacket, though.

Normally, she’d be clearing her head after a hard day of helping out Dr. Huan, same as you. But the lab’s a Scene of Civic Interest right now and Huan’s neck-deep in committee meetings that she’s doing her best to shield you from. Good for vigilantism. Bad for feeling normal.

But you’re the normal one. That’s why you’re here in a dark commercial zone and why the two magical beings have run off with the superhero’s protege.

(Off in the distance, the heavy-duty police patrol craft prepares to fly Xingtian across the city to the HOUND Detainment Center. Its red and blue lights are still visible from here.)