Post-Event Assessment: Rock Climbing

We took Secondborn to the rock climbing gym this weekend. He's had summer classes there before, so he was already on file and certified to use the auto-belay. Beautiful Wife and I were not, so we filled out our wavers and went over the process with the staff so we could be on record as officially certified. 

(For those who don't already know: belay is the term for the safety line that keeps a climber from falling to the ground if they lose their grip. It also allows them to be lowered back down once they reach the top of the climb. For a manual belay, the belay line basically goes up to a pulley and you have somebody on the ground to pull the rope so it stays tight as you climb, and then to feed it back out gently to lower you down. A lot of the modern climbing gyms have auto-belays as well, which are rigged to a spring-and-pulley system. On their own, they will retract all the way up to the spool, but with a person clipped to the end of the line they will keep the rope tight until you fall or let go and put your full weight on it. At that point, it feeds the line back out slowly, so you land gently on the ground.) 

Secondborn, as I said, has done this before, and recently. Beautiful Wife and I have also done this before, and not recently. So he clambers around on the bouldering areas, and scampers up the climbing walls with considerable agility, and returns to the bottom smiling. 

Me, not so much. I tried four climbs and a bit of bouldering, and I will say this in my defense: at least I can still do it. I have to take about a ten minute break between climbs, but I can do it. So my assessment looks like this: 

Good:

• Grip strength and upper body are still equal to the task.
• Agility and technique are still there; I remember how to go about it.

Bad:

• Cardio is desperately in need of more work.

So, we're going to do their one-month trial -- which looks like a pretty good deal -- and see if we can't get back in better shape while giving Secondborn a regular family outing that he loves. 

Events of note: Secondborn showed us how he can go up a section of the wall devoted to timed trials -- not anything complicated; the first two-thirds is basically a series of wooden rungs with a nice, heavy lip that's very easy to grip. Harder than it looks, though, because the rungs are about two feet apart. So, after watching this, I informed Secondborn that he was going to get to watch me beat his time.

I made it halfway up -- if we're being generous. It was probably closet to a third. I really need to lose some belly to make that work. Secondborn was, of course, suitably smug about the whole thing. 

Den of Thieves: A Momentary Sighting

"You asked to see me?" Vallista Greycloak eased back from her desk, weighing him with her eyes, and Bassom swallowed. 

He knew he was only still a Greycloak by courtesy, and because he had gone for help when he fled. Derlina and the rest of the crew had been down by then; he'd done the sensible thing. But since the other three -- and Derlina in particular -- had gone down fighting, everybody in the gang thought of them as heroes... and him as a coward. It wasn't right, it wasn't true, but there it was and he was stuck with it.

"Yes, um, Boss. I heard news, and you'll want to hear it to. Bilk Tendal, down on lower city north? He had a group of kids had made a hideout in the back of his shop. Wannabe gang, it sounds like, but still just kids. Anyway, this group came in and helped Bilk bust 'em out: pried 'em out of their hideout, dressed 'em down in the street, then made 'em clean up and marched 'em home to their parents."

Vallista Greycloak leaned forward, studying Bassom closely. He managed not to swallow again, but it took an effort; Vallista was old Anderlin's daughter, likely to take over the gang if her father ever passed. "Why, exactly, did you think I needed to know this?" she asked quietly.

Oh, right, yeah. "'Cause they was the same group as done us," he said. "A dragonborn, a dwarf, an elf, and a couple'a humans. Has to be the same ones, dunnit?"

Vallista leaned back again. "And how long ago was this?"

"Two days ago, maybe three," Bassom admitted. "I came as soon as I heard the word."

"Well," said Vallista Greycloak, "You're the first I've heard it from, so that was wise."

She extended a single finger, tapped it on the arm of her chair. "Very well," she continued after a moment. "Should I call in Derlina? Or do you think you can go down there and ask some questions without attracting attention?"

"They ruined my rep," Bassom said. "I'd rather take care of it myself."

"Hm. Nothing without my permission, though."

"That's why I'm here," Bassom assured her. "I'm loyal -- to the 'Cloaks and to the Guild. Maybe I screwed up, but I want to do this right." There, he'd said it. He wanted to earn his place back -- his real place, not this shunned role out on the edges of everything that mattered to him. 

"As you wish," Vallista told him. "See what you can find out: who they were, who they know, who they're working for. You report directly to me until I say otherwise, and you don't breathe a word of this to anybody else. Until we know who these people are and who they're working for, we move very quietly on this."

"Not a word to anybody else," Bassom told her. "I swear it."

Team Kraken: Introductions, Part Four

They were well into the woods when Gaunt held up a hand. Cloudburst stopped the moment Nightfall did, looking cautiously around. The world around them had already gone slightly dim: Nightfall was extending her power, preparing to plunge them into darkness. Cloudburst put a hand on her shoulder, a gentle touch to keep them together if she did. 

I'm seeing some glows up ahead, Gaunt broadcast back to them. Anomalies. Probably waiting for us. 

There was a momentary pause, then his voice spoke in Cloudburst's head again: I'm going to try to lead us around them. Stay quiet and don't do anything to attract attention.

Nightfall eased up, and Cloudburst took her hand back off the other girl's shoulder. 

Gaunt turned right, and they followed, closing ranks as they circled whoever it was that he'd spotted. 

They kept on, and after a few minutes Cloudburst felt herself start to relax -- so she forced herself to look around. Gaunt? Are you listening?

There was a pause, and then he asked, What is it? 

Are they following us?

Ahead of her, Gaunt slowed, then stopped. After a moment he said, They've spread out. They know we got past them, and they're looking for us. He glanced back, then started forward, quickening his pace but making sure that they could all keep up. 

Cloudburst, for her part, was taking notes in her head. Armor was easily the loudest of them; her suit whirred slightly every time she moved. Gaunt and Nightfall were nearly silent; Tempest less so, but not any louder than Cloudburst thought she was herself. That would be something for them to work on. 

She glanced back just in time to see someone ease out of the trees behind them.

Music: It's Okay To Punch Nazis

The band is Cheap Perfume:

Challenge: Book Quotes

(This post is part of the Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge. You can find links to other writers' answers over at Long and Short Reviews. I kind of fell off last year, so we'll see how I do with it this year.)

Prompt: Book quotes that make me think

 I mean, that's going to be Terry Pratchett for me. Consider, for example, the Boots Theory from Men At Arms: 

The reason that the rich were so rich, Vimes reasoned, was because they managed to spend less money. Take boots, for example. ... A really good pair of leather boots cost fifty dollars. But an affordable pair of boots, which were sort of OK for a season or two and then leaked like hell when the cardboard gave out, cost about ten dollars. ... But the thing was that good boots lasted for years and years. A man who could afford fifty dollars had a pair of boots that'd still be keeping his feet dry in ten years' time, while a poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent a hundred dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet.

This was the Captain Samuel Vimes 'Boots' theory of socio-economic unfairness.

 Or the discussion of justice and belief in Hogfather: 

“All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need... fantasies to make life bearable."

REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.

"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—"

YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.

"So we can believe the big ones?"

YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.

"They're not the same at all!"

YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET—Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME...SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.

"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point—"

MY POINT EXACTLY.”

Team Kraken: Introductions, Part Three

"Okay," said Tempest, "Here's the challenge." She held up a box. "We've done variations on this before, so the basics should be fairly familiar: we have to get the contents of this package to somebody at the far end of the woods. This time, the catch is that it has to get there intact, which probably means that whatever's inside is fragile."

"So we don't know what's inside?" Maria asked.

"No," Tempest told her. 

"Um," said Armor. "Don't give it to me, then."

"Me either," said Gaunt. "If I have to fight, it'll be hand to hand."

Tempest hesitated, thinking, and Maria said: "Give it to Nightfall. I'll cover her, Gaunt can lead -- um, run point -- and you and Armor can flank us. Or you can cover Nightfall, and I'll take a flanking position."

Tempest hesitated a moment longer, then said: "All right. You cover, I'll flank. Everybody else know what they're doing?"

Cat -- Nightfall -- looked over at Gaunt. "Be ready," she said. "If I take us into the dark, we'll need you to guide us." 

He nodded. 

Maria -- Should I be thinking of myself as Cloudburst? -- stepped over beside Nightfall and put a hand on her shoulder. "Ready?" 

Cat nodded back at her. "If I make it dark, Gaunt may push images at you. Don't let it surprise you. Use them to find your way, or to find targets. He'll be using my eyes to see."

"Intiendo," Maria said tightly. 

"All right," said Tempest. "Let's go. Gaunt, you're in the lead. Armor, take left flank; I'll take right." She glanced back at Maria. "Cloudburst... good call."

Grappling with Parenthood

Things I have learned from grappling with Secondborn in the kitchen. (It was supposed to be a hug, but no: he's a teenager. Apparently a hug is an invitation to a Sumo-style contest. Kids these days, amirite?)

1. Do not grapple with your son on a tile floor when he's barefoot and you're wearing fuzzy slippers. The claws on those slippers are purely ornamental and do not help you grip the floor as he's sliding you down the hallway.
2. I am apparently still just barely enough taller than he is to lift him off the ground, thus denying him his advantage in traction.
3. He is tall enough to try to slip out of this.
4. Getting the cabinet behind one foot helps, but is not sufficient by itself. 
5. Secondborn has no training in judo, jujitsu, or wrestling, so it is possible to get him into a controlled throw and set him carefully on the ground. 
6. I'm too old for this shit.
   

Urgh

I think I was going to post the next installment of Team Kraken's introductions this morning, only I've been weirdly, mildly sick and when I finished work yesterday I took a three hour nap instead of doing, well, anything else. There seem to be a lot of things going around right now, plus there's plenty of additional stress if you're following the news at all. With that in mind, I'm going to recommend three things: 

• Take it easy. Drink water, get rest, and just generally be nice to yourself. Do not underestimate the restorative power of napping on the couch.
  
• Limit your news intake, and if you find yourself doomscrolling, stop. Part of the reason that the new administration is trying to shove all this bullshit through at once is to make it look like a fait accompli, like it's already done and there's no way to stop it or even try to resist. That is simply not true, but it's way too easy to get overwhelmed by it all. 
• Start masking, wash your hands thoroughly, and socially distance as much as you can. It's not just COVID, the last time we actually had masking protocols in place we actually wiped out a whole family of flu strains. Norovirus is going around, not to mention the usual seasonal colds and etc. And with communications shut down from the NIH, we're not even likely to know if the latest version of Bird Flu goes epidemic. Hell, masking even helps with airborne allergies! Plus, you look like a badass.

So that's what I've got for today. Tomorrow, you get the tale of my epic battle with Secondborn.

Music: The Lunatics (Have Taken Over The Asylum)

Cover by the band Masochist:

Team Kraken: Introductions, Part Two

"Okay, do any of you have any questions before we go outside?" Kim was looking around the table, expectant. 

After a brief pause to make sure nobody else was about to speak, Maria said, "It would help if everybody told me what their powers are, and anything else you think I should know. I'll even start, if you like."

Kim nodded to her, looking relieved. "Good idea."

"Um. So, basically, I can manipulate water and electricity -- though I'm a lot better with water. I can't create them, but it sort of looks like I can because I can absorb them. So if I run out, I have to absorb more, but as long as there's some around I can use it." She paused for a moment, then added: "I also know how to sail -- anything from a catamaran up to mid-sized sailboat."

"How do you store...?" Kim shook her head, cutting herself off. "No, never mind, thank you. Cat?"

Cat nodded. "It's basically two things: I can see in the dark, and I can make it dark. When I make it dark, it also interferes with other kinds of electromagnetic radiation, like radio and bluetooth."

That sounds handy, Maria thought. She nodded thoughtfully. 

"Um," said Ally, the girl with the close-shaven brown hair, the one they called Armor. "I mean, mainly, I build things. All kinds of things. That's really my power. But I've been building this suit of armor to use with the team, so when I have that on I'm, well, armored. And super-strong. And I put jets on it so I can jump really far--" 

"How far?" asked Maria. 

Ally paused, looking thoughtful. "About sixty feet forward, or forty feet straight up. I haven't gotten as far as making it fly, yet. And I still haven't cracked the neural interface, so right now it mostly just amplifies my movements, but with a little more work--"

Maria interrupted her again, because that seemed like the only way to find out what she needed to know. "How big is it?"

"How-- how big is it?" Now Armor looked bewildered. "Um... I don't know?"

Gaunt spoke up. "When she's wearing it, she's about your size. It's powered armor -- not, like, a mecha or anything."

"Well," said Armor, "Not yet. Anyway it's got some cool countermeasures and weapon systems, but Tempest probably wants me to wait 'til we're done to tell you about all of those."

Kim nodded gratefully, though for her part Maria was honestly a little disappointed. "I'd like to hear about them," she said, "but after the meeting will work just fine."

"Oh. Good." Armor was suddenly wearing the smile of a girl who was about to get to explain her very favorite hobby, which would have been worrisome if Maria hadn't actually wanted to know. Fortunately, she did. 

"Uh, yes," said Kim. "Tempest, team captain. I'm a blaster -- I can project blasts of heat, wind, or raw force -- or any combination. I know how to drive, and I keep up with all the latest research on Anomalies like ourselves. I think that's why Ms. Salvatore put me in charge."

Gaunt spoke up unexpectedly. "You've done fine so far." He turned back to Maria. "I have some physical abilities -- strength, damage resistance, improved healing -- but mostly I'm a short-range psychic." He closed his mouth deliberately and spoke directly into her thoughts, which was very possibly the weirdest thing that Maria had ever felt: I can speak to you telepathically, and I can hear it if you reply -- but I have to be listening and you have to make an effort to project. I can't just read your mind. He switched back to speaking aloud. "...And I can spot our fellow anomalies -- we have a kind of glow."

Given some of the things that had been going through Maria's mind lately, that part was a relief. "How many people can you talk to at once?"

"I can either pick somebody and talk to them specifically, or I can kind of shout so all of you can hear it. Gets confusing if you all answer at once, though."

"Oh. I can imagine," she told him, and he nodded. "Anything else?" She knew he took part in basically all of the school's martial arts classes, and was curious whether he'd mention it.

He shrugged. "I know how to fight, I know how to pick locks, and I know my way around guns... though I don't expect to be carrying one while I'm on the team."

"Oh," said Maria. "Okay." There were some things there that she definitely hadn't known about, and she wanted a chance to think through them before she asked any more questions. "Um...." She looked around at the rest of Team Kraken. "Any more questions for me?" 

"You said you could manipulate water," Kim said. "Would you show us?"

"Well..." Maria raised a hand, and water in the team leader's open water bottle flowed up, curled around like a serpernt, and then flowed over and shaped itself into a ball above her extended palm. She flexed her hand, and it broke apart into five smaller balls marching in a circle. "I haven't done that much with it yet," she said, and one of the balls flicked itself at the empty bottle, knocking it off the table as it impacted. Water splattered across the tabletop, then gathered itself back together and coiled itself back up into a tiny serpent-shape. "I could absorb it and save it for later if I wasn't already full from the thunderstorm a few weeks back. Could you pick up the bottle?" 

Kim obligingly rolled her chair back, leaned down, and held the bottle up. Maria sent the remaining four balls of water back to it and dropped them inside, one after the other, then took the serpent that had splattered across the table and sent it over to the trash can in the corner. 

"Okay," said Kim. "That's wild."

"What about electricity?" asked Armor. "Is your control that good?"

Maria shook her head. "...Yes and no? I could shock someone, or possibly electrocute them, and it might even look a little like that except with this sort of semi-lightning. I can make a light bulb glow if I'm holding it, and if I'm very careful not to burn it out. But if we're being completely honest, I'm way better at burning it out."

"Huh," said Armor, sitting back. "That could get interesting."

Tempest nodded, then offered a hesitant smile. "Let's go find out."

Team Kraken: Introductions, Part One

Maria Ortez paused in the doorway, then stepped inside. 

The room was one of the small study/conference rooms at the back of the house, with a polished wooden table at its center, comfortable padded chairs around the table, and a large screen on the wall that could be connected to any number of portable devices. The screen was currently blank. 

"Maria!" Cat Montoya motioned her over, distinctive as ever in her battle jacket. "You made it!"

Maria smiled, because it was great to know that someone here was glad to see her. Not that she was expecting a hostile reception, but still...

Cat was a dancer and a gymnast, where Maria preferred swimming and sailing. The two of them sometimes worked out together and sometimes studied together, but they were friendly rather than close. It felt perfectly comfortable to take the seat beside her, though. "Si. I think Mr. Jenkins suggested it."

"He did," said the brown-haired girl across from her. "Welcome aboard. Technically you're still in your probation period with the team, but I'm really hoping this all works out." This girl was light-skinned and blue-eyed, and Maria had a moment of Well of course they put the white girl in charge but she smothered it as the girl continued: "Kim Evely. Tempest."

Gaunt was sitting beside her, silent as usual. Maria thought she knew him as well as anyone did; they had three classes together this year. His real name was Omar al-Rikabi, but everybody called him by his codename because he always looked as if he was starving. He had moderately curly black hair, and dark brown skin with silvery undertones, and he nodded to her as she glanced at him. No expression at all; just a solemn acknowledgement. He was, she realized, the only boy on the team. He was also the only boy in the school who probably wouldn't even notice that.

"Is this-- Oh good, we are meeting." This girl had the same medium-brown hair as Tempest, but cut short against her skull. She was -- surprisingly -- actually shorter than Maria, with a delicate bone structure. Maria didn't recognize her at all, and apparently she didn't recognize Maria either because she stopped two steps into the room, focused on Maria, and said: "Oh. You're new."

Kim -- Tempest -- sighed. "When did you last check your email? This is Maria Ortez -- Cloudburst. She's joining the team at Mr. Jenkins' suggestion. Maria, this is Ally Colvin: Armor. She's our gadgeteer."

"Good to meet you," Maria said, and Ally replied with a brisk "Uh-huh. You too," which Maria decided was actually meant to be friendly. More than anything else, this last girl just seemed supremely distracted. 

"Before we get started," Tempest said, "does everybody else know each other? Do we need any additional introductions?"

"No," said Maria. "No, I'm good."

She wasn't good; this was all new, and kind of stressful. But so far she hadn't seen anybody that she absolutely couldn't get along with, and that was an excellent start.

Well, Christmas is finally over and also we had a new visitor

You may be looking at the title and thinking, What, just now? Isn't this a bit late? (Or, I guess, you might be looking at the title and thinking, What, already? --in which case this post probably isn't for you.) But yes, we finally got together with the last piece of the family to have some dinner and exchange gifts, so now Christmas is finally, officially over for us. 

Why did it take this long? Well, as usual it was a combination of things, with people being out of town, medical issues, and the logistics of getting someone in a different branch of the family moved into a new apartment. Most of that was not our burden to bear, for which I'm grateful; we just had to work with the timing for it. 

In unrelated news, we had a neighbor stop by and ask to use our phone. We're assuming she's a neighbor, anyway; we've seen her once before, and she does seem to be living nearby. Beautiful Wife sensibly handed her the landline rather than her cellphone, then invited her in for a cup of tea. 

I did not catch her name, but she comes across as a very-sweet-if-somewhat-daft older woman. We first met her a few weeks ago, when she knocked on the door to make sure we knew that the hose was running in our front yard. (We did. Beautiful Wife was slow-watering the yard.) This was before the election, and she let drop that of the four presidential candidates, only one was actually an American citizen. Which... we pretty much just slid right past that part, because that is a level of batshittery that neither of us was prepared to engage with. 

She explained a bit more after using the phone: she's living with one of our neighbors, she's got grandchildren up in Oregon, she's got money troubles -- hence the need to borrow our phone -- but really, it'll all be okay. How so? Well, she put her money in an investment, and after the inauguration that investment is going to be worth a whole lot more. Then she'll have money to pay her bills and help out her family. So what did she invest in? Well, she hems and haws for a moment and then admits that it's Trump Bucks, and after the inauguration she's going to be able to use them as currency. 

All of this is delivered with the serene confidence of a True Believer, and I am here to say that neither of us had any idea at all how to respond to that revelation. 

Because what we have here, apparently, is a very nice older woman who has no idea that she's been scammed out of whatever remained of her life's savings... Or, a very convincing plant trying to scam us with the hope of getting filthy rich after the election... Or, just maybe, both. If it's the first case, then judging by her demeanor she is never going to believe us if we try to tell her it's a scam. If it's the second -- or the third -- possibility, then she must have been disappointed because neither one of us was even going to touch that topic. Either way, this was a whole other level of batshittery that we just slid right past.

Still, if we do see her again I need to ask who sold her on the Trump Bucks, and at least suggest that she get in touch with the local police; the situation might be a lot more clear after the inauguration. Or, since we weren't interested in Trump Bucks and similar fuckery ourselves, we may simply never see her again. We don't really know that she lives in the area, after all. If she is part of the scam, then I doubt she'll want to hang around long enough to be identifiable -- and having her show up out of nowhere, twice, gets more suspicious the more I think about it. 

I've also contacted our telecom to make sure that there aren't any weird charges from that day that are going to show up on my bill at the end of the month, since I can picture a scenario where you borrow someone's phone and use it to call some sort of paid service in exchange for a kickback. No idea whether that's really a thing or not, though. And in in any case, our provider confirms that there aren't any additional charges on the account.

Minor update: So, she showed back up again later in the week, and asked Beautiful Wife if she could pay her to drive her some places. Beautiful Wife told that she had some meetings and couldn't do it, and then politely closed the door. So our current read on the situation is that this neighbor is exactly what she appears to be -- sweet, dignified, and batshit -- and she's zeroed in on us as Those Nice People Who Might Help Out.

2025's going to be an interesting year.

StV: Student Feedback, Part Four

"So," asked Jonathan Saint-Vincent, "what do you think of Sophia's brother?"

Greg Hendricks frowned. "I don't want him on my team, if that's what you're asking."

"I was not asking that," Jonathan assured him, but it's interesting that that's your first response.

"Good. In general?" Greg was still frowning. "I don't like him. Maybe he wasn't actually trying to kill my people, but saying that he was trying to maim them instead isn't as much of a defense as he thinks it is. I'd like to see him gone."

"He's asked to stay on as a student at the school."

"...Of course he has. I take it Sophia doesn't mind?"

"She claims it was her idea."

"Well, it wasn't. It was Cedric's. At least, he was the first one who brought it up." Greg paused, thinking. "Are you sure he isn't up to something?" 

"Not at all," Jonathan answered easily. "His mind-shield is all but impenetrable. But if he does intend to cause trouble, he's saving his efforts for something big -- aside from the sparring session with Nightmare, he's been going out of his way not to make trouble."

Greg shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. "She shouldn't be here either. She's a murder waiting to happen."

"She's a very angry young woman," Jonathan acknowledged, "but she does have her reasons -- and she's careful about her targets. In any case, that's not your decision to make."

"I know," he said. "And this one isn't either, it seems. But since you asked, and since you've been asking my team: no, I don't trust him and I don't want him here. He's a thief, probably an attempted murderer, and possibly a spy for Imperia. That said, if you are going to let him stay, I'll do my best to make it work. Right now, Veil's the only one who really hates him... though I think Paula is watching him a lot more closely than she lets on."

Jonathan smiled at that. "She would be, yes."

"Of course she would," Greg agreed. "Is there anything else?"

"Not at the moment," Jonathan admitted. "And you're right, I do intend to let him remain at the school."

"Then I'll do my best to make that work for Team Dragon. Sophia isn't asking for him to join us, is she?"

"Not at all. Jade, however, seems interested in seeing how he works with Team Phoenix -- in part, I suspect, because of how well Sophia worked out with Team Dragon."

Greg had been in the process of standing up; he stopped and settled back down into the chair. "You're going to let her put him on the same team as Nightmare?"

"Those two do seem to have an understanding," Jonathan observed.

"That's because they're both psychotic," Greg said sharply. Then: "No, I'm sorry, that was..." He swallowed. "...uncharitable. I... I know it's not my business, but I'd like you to keep me updated on that, Sir. Particularly if my team is going to be practicing with them."

"That only seems fair," Jonathan agreed, "and as long as we're here you should know that Cloudburst will be joining Team Kraken to see if she fits in over there."

Greg frowned. "I don't know Cloudburst," he admitted. "But all right. Thanks. I do appreciate your consulting with us about this. If any of my team has any additional thoughts, we'll be in touch."

Student: Team Captain Tempest [Team Kraken]

Name: Kimberly Lynn "Kim" Evely
Nickname: Tempest
Age: 17
Appearance: 5'6" with brown hair and pale skin, light freckles, and blue eyes; sturdily built.
Notable Skills: Physics, Strategy, Volleyball, Basketball, Web Design, knows how to drive.
Quirks:Worries that discussion of math and physics bores people, wants to be the best leader she can be, wishes more people played team sports without getting weird about it, loves animals, very touchy-feely with her friends.

Kim Evely still isn't entirely sure how she wound up in charge of a nascent team of potential teenage superheroes, but she's determined to do her best at leading them. Her personal goal is to become a physics researcher with an emphasis on the physics of Anomalous powers, including her own. As Tempest, she can produce blasts of heat, wind, or raw force -- separately or in combination. She's basically a firestorm with a strong interest in the sciences. As a new Team Captain, she's both uncertain and occasionally defensive about her position.

As a student, she's very focused and spends most of her time studying; her social life exists mainly because the rest of her volleyball team sometimes remembers to drag her out of her room to go hang out. Her super-team, unfortunately, is mainly composed of introverts like herself (which actually works to an extent, since they do at least get each other). She doesn't have a lot of hobbies outside of her chosen team sports and her studies, but she volunteers to walk dogs at the nearest animal shelter on weekends. 

Kim expects to fall in love and get married eventually, but she hasn't put much thought into it. Her studies come first.

StV: Student Feedback, Part Three

"Sophia's brother?" Tyler John Taylor was the oldest of the students who formed Team Dragon, due to graduate at the end of the school year. He would be hard to replace, Jonathan thought. "Eh, he seems all right."

"So you wouldn't object to him remaining at the school?" 

"Non." Tyler shook his head. "Sophia seems happier with him here, and beyond that I don't care either way."

"Very well," said headmaster Saint-Vincent. "That's all I needed to know."

"Well-- okay, then." Tyler shook his head and left the office. 

A few minutes later, Paula Ann Stone -- Catapult -- came in, nodded to him, and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. She'd re-dyed her hair; forest green, this time. She waited until he crossed to his own chair and sat down across from her, then said: "So. Lyceus."

"That's the question, yes. If we permit him to remain here at the school, is that going to be a problem for you?"

Paula leaned back in her chair, considering. "I don't think so," she said after half a minute or so. "Not for me, anyway."

"Have you had any interactions with him?" Jonathan was eager to hear what she might say; Paula was goal-oriented in a way that most of his students weren't: strategic, observant, and driven. She knew what she wanted and she worked out how to get it -- and then she went for it.

"A couple," she admitted. "He's smart. And he says he didn't come here with any sort of plan, but... I think his coming here was better thought out than he's willing to admit, maybe even to himself." She paused, then added: "We're not ever going to be friends, though."

Interesting. "Fair enough," Jonathan told her. 

"Will you let us know what you decide?" she asked. 

He nodded. "Of course. Thank you for helping with this."

StV: Student Feedback, Part Two

"I hate him," Veil said. The boy's name was Chance Justin Rutherford, but here at the school he only answered to Veil. "He put a spear right through my leg and then yanked it right back out -- and then he stabbed Cedric with it. I really thought Cedric had killed him, and I was glad." 

Oh dear, Jonathan thought. This one's going to be rough. "You haven't tried to start anything with him, though." 

"How can I?" Veil asked angrily. "My powers won't touch him. He doesn't even f-- He doesn't even notice. Plus, Sophia made a point of letting us know that he was here with her approval, and--" He cut off, cracked his neck, and then tried again. "On top of all that, he keeps being militantly decent."

Jonathan felt his eyebrows rise. "Militantly decent?" he asked. "How so?"

Veil hesitated. Then: "I mean okay, yes, he's also insane. He actually offered to let me stab him. Said it was only fair."

"And did you?" asked Jonathan, no longer sure whether he was fascinated or concerned. 

"Of course not!" Veil replied. "Greg said we weren't allowed to stab people. I mean, I know I'm not supposed to stab people, but I didn't even get a chance to decide for myself. He said -- Lyceus said -- that I could stab him and it would really hurt but it wouldn't kill him, but Greg--"

This was getting out of hand. "Veil," Jonathan said in his most reasonable tone, "I can't have my students stabbing each other here at the school."

Veil stopped as if stung. "You let Nightmare stab him," he said. "At least, Mr. Craven did and nobody got in trouble for it."

"That was a very different..." Jonathan Saint-Vincent paused, aware of the inconsistency in his arguments. Sandra Livingston had, by all accounts, put her claws into the sides of Lyceus' belly, right before he'd beaten her practically into unconsciousness. "...Let us say that when practicing the martial arts, some injuries are bound to occur; and while I cannot condone my students stabbing each other, I am also very aware that I am not in control of every aspect of their lives. Obviously I would prefer it if you didn't take Sophia's brother up on this offer of his, but he has asked to remain at the school and I would prefer that two of you be on decent, or at least cordial, terms with each other."

Veil put his hands together in front of him, and squeezed them until his skin went pale and pink with lack of circulation. "That's it. I am absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent going to--" He paused. "Not stab that guy. I promise."

He was absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent going to stab Lyceus, Jonathan thought, but as long as Lyceus agreed and they kept it between the two of them there really wasn't much he could do to stop it. And there wasn't much need; Lyceus' bout with Nightmare had demonstrated his regenerative abilities very effectively. Oh, this is such a bad decision and I am such a bad administrator, he thought, but he still couldn't bring himself to intervene. "Thank you, Mr. Rutherford. You've been a great help."

Veil stared at him. "Mr. Rutherford is my dad."

"Then thank you, Veil."

"You're welcome," the boy said, and departed.

StV: Student Feedback, Part One

Cedric Johnson paced back and forth in front of the headmaster's desk, while Jonathan Saint-Vincent leaned back against the windowsill, savoring the mobility that the prosthetic exoskeleton provided for him. He was fond of his students, and frequently proud of them; and mostly they responded to it, though he occasionally had to remind himself that it could also be a weakness. So he waited, watching as Cedric took a step, hesitated, took another step, and then turned back to face him.

"What do I think of Lyceus?" he asked, as if making sure he understood the question.

"Precisely," Jonathan told him. "I understand that your first encounter with him was... unexpectedly traumatic. I also know you've spoken with him, at least a bit. I'd like to know what you think of him."

Cedric swallowed. "Sir..."

"It's all right, Cedric. You aren't in trouble."

The boy's expression changed, and Jonathan realized that he'd missed his mark. Cedric wasn't worried that he was in trouble. He was worried that Lyceus might be.

"He's a good guy," Cedric said, suddenly and unexpectedly forceful. "I mean, I know Sophia put him up to some of it, but he's been trying to convince me that I didn't-- that I'm not a bad person just because I nearly killed him. Like, he really believes it. And if he believes it, well, how can I... not?" He shook his head. 

Now that was interesting. Could the two Antonius siblings, Lyceus and Sophia, be plotting something together? It didn't seem likely, given how long it had taken Lyceus to show up, how Sophia had reacted to the news of his arrival, and the simple fact that Jonathan couldn't imagine any sort of plot that would require them to make Cedric feel better about himself. "He's a very troubled young man," Jonathan ventured. 

"Yeah. He told me. He told me that's how he knew I wasn't-- that I wasn't a bad person, I mean."

"Ah," said Jonathan, nodding. "Well, if it's any help at all, both Ms. Salvatore and I agree with him about that."

Cedric paused. "Thank you, sir."

"Lyceus has asked to remain at the school, and not move on as he'd originally planned. I take it you don't have any objection to that?"

"Um... No? No. No objections." Cedric swallowed. "You don't know how good it felt to be forgiven like that." 

Jonathan felt a touch of sadness, and let it show on his face. "You might be surprised, Mr. Johnson. Very well, back to class. You've been a great help here."

"Right. Yes. Thank you, sir."

StV: The Logistics of Staying in School

"He actually asked to remain at the school?" Jonathan Saint-Vincent was surprised, though in retrospect he probably shouldn't have been. 

"He did," answered Dianna Salvatore, "and I have never in my life been more frustrated at not being able to read someone's mind."

Saint-Vincent chuckled at that. "No, I imagine not." He considered. The boy might cause problems, though so far he seemed to being going out of his way to avoid that. His sister might object; all of Team Dragon might object. "You spoke to Sophia about it, I assume?"

"Only in passing, but she seemed a little embarrassed that she hadn't brought it up herself. As far as she's concerned, it was kind of her idea. She's encouraging him to do it, at least."

"Well, that's a start." Probably I should have spoken with the rest of Team Dragon before I let him stay at all. I certainly should now. "What about the others?"

Dianna hesitated. "I haven't had a chance to talk to them about it."

"And Jade still wants him to go with Team Phoenix to Colorado?"

Dianna nodded. "She asked about it again today. I think she's confused about why we haven't just made a decision yet."

Saint-Vincent sighed. "I'd rather have him working with Team Kraken. They could use an additional member." 

"Maybe," answered Dianna, "but I'm not sure he'd bring much to the team that Gaunt doesn't provide already. I'd rather add Cloudburst to their roster and see how she does there."

That made sense, he had to admit. "All right. If Tempest agrees, Cloudburst can join Team Kraken. Lyceus can accompany Team Phoenix, and I'll talk to Team Dragon about letting him stay here at the school."

"It's going to be awkward if he works well with Team Phoenix and we decide he can't stay," Dianna said.

"Do you really think that's going to happen?"

Dianna shivered, and her expression changed. For a moment she didn't look as if she were entirely here -- or, stranger still, as if she were entirely now. "No." She shook her head, suddenly certain. "He's going to stay here. It's going to be a mess, but we'll muddle through. And at some point he's going to save Sophia's life."

"Is he?" asked Saint-Vincent. The question was rhetorical; if Dianna hadn't been certain of her premonition, she would have said so. 

"He is. Maybe others, too. He's--" She cut that thought off. 

Saint-Vincent wondered what exactly she wasn't saying, but he didn't ask. If she thought he shouldn't know, she wouldn't answer; and anyway, he trusted her. "We're still going to have to put the work in," he reminded her. 

"Yes." Her tone was firm, now. "I'll arrange interviews with the Dragons. You should start with Wrecker and Veil -- the two he injured. Meanwhile, I'll let Jade know he's cleared to go with them, and ask her to give me a report on how he performed; she won't think that's anything out of the ordinary."

"Very well," said Saint-Vincent. "Whatever happens, we'll learn a bit more about our young friend, at least."

StV: Penetration Testing

You're up late again. The message was from Dianna, of course; checking up on him again.

Jinx glanced at the chat message, then paused and clicked over to reply to it. Yeah. Somebody's been testing our firewall. Not sure who or why, though. 

There was a momentary pause, and then Dianna replied, Well, at least we know that one isn't anything to do with the new kid. His people don't work that way. 

Unless they hired somebody, David replied. But no, I don't think so. This might even be just a run-of-the-mill attempt at hacking a school. 

Is it strange to say that I kind of hope so?

Dave shook his head and just typed, No. He could do with having a problem that was just... a problem, and not an omen of worse to come. They did their best to stay ahead of things, but every once in a while their troubles ramped up into genuine dangers, and when they did it usually seemed to start with something comparatively innocuous like this. 

Listen, about the new kid... Dianna had taken three tries to type that one sentence, so she was hesitant about whatever she was about to say.

You still worrying about him? Aside from the thing with Nightmare, he sounds like he's doing fine. 

It's the thing with Nightmare, actually. I mean, that part is fine. I don't understand it, but whatever that was apparently made perfect sense to the both of them in the moment. It's just that I had a thought about it, and now I can't get it out of my head.

Dave hesitated, then typed: Oh?

Could you find out if he's ever killed anybody?

Dave went still at his desk. Why in the hell would Dianna think... Nightmare, he realized. The school had taken in troubled children before, but Nightmare was in a category all her own. If Lucian -- Lyceus -- was anything like her, that was definitely something they needed to address. Surely Sophia would have warned them, though... 

Dianna was typing again. They both insist that they were just sparring, but Bob let me have a look at his memories and that fight was bloody and as far as I can tell they were both down with that. Or there for it, or whatever the hell it is that the kids say these days. And now Jade wants Lyceus to go with Team Phoenix on their next outing, and neither Jonathan nor I know quite what to tell her. 

Dave considered that. All right, he finally responded. I'll catch him tomorrow and have a talk, see what I can find out. He might just tell me if I ask outright. He hesitated, then added another line: I'm not sure I wanted to know this. He seems like a nice kid. 

Yeah, he does. Just maybe a nice kid who's been trained to kill his family's enemies. I haven't asked Sophia; if she knew anything about that she'd have told us.

They've both been pretty clear that they weren't raised to be close to each other, Jinx observed. It seems like they're trying to make up for lost time, though. 

Just let me know, so we can figure out what to tell Jade. She's probably already wondering why we haven't answered her request. 

Student: Nemesis

Name: Abigail "Abby" Fulton Johnson
Nickname: Nemesis
Age: 16
Appearance: 5'1" with nut-brown hair and eyes, medium-light skin, and a skinny build
Notable Skills: Drums and Bass (upright or guitar), strategy games, math, Track (sprinter), orienteering.
Quirks: frequently tapping out the beat of some popular song on whatever's handy, plays in a band, hates team sports, enjoys maps and hiking, worries about what her power is making her into.

Most Anomalies gain their powers with the onset of puberty, usually around twelve or thirteen. The same may have been true for Abby Johnson, but nobody realized it until she was fifteen -- when a bicycle crash left her with a badly-scraped elbow... which quickly healed over into thick, heavy moonstone film that was considerably more damage resistant. An accidental cut while opening a box resulted in a scar of similar consistency across the palm of her hand, and it was shortly after that her pediatrician realized that her growth wasn't following normal patterns and started doing more tests. The results left Abby quietly terrified: her body was changing, she couldn't control it, and she had no idea where -- or if -- it would end. She was slowly becoming a monster, but any time she got injured the wound rapidly accelerated the process. 

Abby takes shelter in her music; she plays drums and bass with a few other students in a band they call The Mass Casualties, but she also listens to music almost constantly, either for relaxed enjoyment or to pick it apart and see how it all fits together. She enjoys strategy games for the combination of challenge and socialization, and is good at math in a way that she thinks is normal but most people find quite impressive. She gets her exercise from running track -- mainly as a sprinter -- and hiking, and has recently expanded into bicycling and swimming. She's a decent but not exceptional student, and struggles with her language classes (including English).

Den of Thieves: Afterparty

"They did what?" asked the man who called himself Daystar. 

"They threw a Solstice party," Grot said. "And they've been to the Bluddy Nose, too."

Grot kept his delivery absolutely deadpan -- he'd always been good at that -- but secretly he was enjoying the unbecoming, blotchy redness that now covered the boss's face. 

"Damn them," growled the boss. "They're supposed to be laying low, not introducing themselves to the entire Guild. Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I am telling you about it. I didn't realize it was going to be a party until I got there."

Daystar was still red-faced, but his eyes narrowed at that. "Was anybody else from the Guild there?"

"No," Grot answered immediately. "Well, my cousin Keria, but she's more a member by courtesy. Stevedores. Works at the Bluddy Nose."

The boss drew a deep breath and very deliberately smoothed out the lapels of his jacket. "Well, that could have been much worse. And they trust you enough to invite you, I see."

Grot nodded. "They do."

"Hmph. Fine. Then you can keep an eye on them. At least they seem to be doing what I need."

"So what now?" 

"I need to get up to the office. Once you've dropped me there, you can go and visit again -- on foot -- and warn them to stay out of sight. I need to find some way to make them less distinctive, but..." 

"I'll warn them," Grot said. Better there than here, he thought, then cursed himself for a fool. This was a good job: it paid well, it wasn't too demanding, and the boss was every bit as cautious as he should be, given what he was doing. The boss was also high-handed and demanding, and not prone to explaining himself, which might become a problem.

Grot turned and left, heading for the stables; if he was going to have second thoughts about taking down the Guild, it was definitely better done there than here.

Public Figure: Congressman William Walton

Name: William Daniel Walton
Age: 52
Appearance: 5'8" with silvery-gray hair, clean shaven, blue eyes; neatly dressed with a trim build.
Job: U.S. Congressman (D, OR)

Representative Walton is the first "out" Anomaly to be elected to Congress, and serves in the House. He was elected on a platform of solving existing problems rather than creating more of them, and holds strong views on justice and equality. He has carefully cultivated an affable, results-oriented public persona, and avoided anything that might be construed as scandalous. He was a member of the Coast Guard before retiring to run for office.

He is perhaps fortunate that his ability to create a protective shield around himself and others is relatively unobjectionable, and has a set of memorized responses for anyone who tries to demonize him simply for being an Anomaly.

Student: Hood

Name: Adolphe John "Jack" Anderlin
Nickname: (Robin) Hood
Age: 18
Appearance: 6'4" and very thin, with frizzy brown hair that he keeps short and hazel eyes.
Notable Skills: Fencing, archery, guns, driving, basketball, electronics
Quirks: Can discuss Star Trek in endless detail, avoids caffeine and processed sugar, loves animals, hates loud noises including music, afraid of heights

Jack Anderlin is easily the best fencer at Saint Vincent's, and is one of the relatively few students to take an extensive interest in guns. He's also an experienced electrical engineer, a skillset that began as a hobby before he got really into it. His nickname -- Hood -- was cemented when he took up archery, which is fine by him. He prefers to use Jack as his regular name, since he considers John kind of boring and was teased as a child for his first name. 

Skinny and fast with lots of reach, Jack is a natural at fencing; his power as a locator allows him to find objects or people, and also gives him an acute feel for things like the movements of an opponent's blade or the location of a target; he is quite capable of hitting a moving target while blindfolded. This same ability has netted him a basketball scholarship when he heads off to college next year. He has strong feelings about social justice and works with Habitat for Humanity whenever can manage it.