I now have a Patreon account, the better to take your money

Short version: Here is a link.  You can now give me money on a monthly basis, which paypal always and without fail managed to screw up whenever someone attempted such a thing.

- - -

So I've been asked more than once if I had such a thing, and I finally got around to making one.

I honestly have no idea what I'll do with it.  This is where I collect my writings, I guess maybe rough drafts (because things here are so polished) meta notes, talking about things I plan to do that won't ever come to fruition, stuff that isn't good enough for here maybe?

That all sounds . . . kind of crap, doesn't it?

But, that's the thing, I don't want what I write to be behind a paywall, so there shouldn't be too much that I can actually justify sticking there in the patron only section.

The worst that comes from not becoming my patron is I don't have the first poem of my book being a dedication to you so that you, Cornelius Nepos, will be remembered for all time even though your own works have long since been lost you might have to wait until posts are actually ready to be posted at Stealing Commas in order to read them (because it's not like you're already doing that or something) and you might not get your hopes up when I make some patron post saying, "I think I'll do X" when I totally will fail to even begin thinking about forming an exploratory committee dedicated to feeling out the possibility that I might eventually get started on doing X.

So, there's really no reason to go over there and sign up to give me money.  Wanna go over there and sign up to give me money?  If you do, this is the link.

Also I think I'm going to need to look around for the sparkle duck so I can have a picture instead of an annoying, over large, gray area at the top.

Meeting Corv's team (super people)

[Previous installment here. This is the first time we've actually seen the other members of Corv's team. The closest before was seeing an ex-member.]

Corv had kept Enzie separated from the others until the last one arrived in the common room, so Enzie's first look at the team was when Corv led them in to begin the meeting.  First impression, formed based on a quick glance, was that they were as one would expect.  A bunch of people in their mid twenties.

"Everyone, this is Enzie," Corv said with a gesture to Enzie, "'They-them'."

A response seemed appropriate, so Enzie gave a nod.

"Enzie, this is my team.  Java, 'he-him'," Corv gestured to the most famous member of the team, and it's leader.

You couldn't come to this city without learning about the guy.  First nation heritage --some east coast tribe-- and enough you might guess it if you didn't already know, but no tribal links.  Orphan who was taken in by a presumed-rich white guy with a penchant for vigilante activity.  For reasons that had never been explained, Java cut ties and hopped to the other side of the continent ending up here.

Real identity unknown, and apparently he wanted to keep it that way since, though he was in his own home, he was still wearing obfuscating headgear.  It was a toned down version of what went with his mission attire --probably a non-combat version-- which obscured enough of his face to make facial recognition attempts difficult at best.

"Aster, 'she-her'," Corv gestured to a young woman who seemed to be intent on reading a book, upside down.

Trying to place her within a human geography was something that could only lead to frustration.  Her eyes were a bit too orange; human eyes that were light brown, amber, or even some forms of hazel could give an orange appearance, but not that orange.  Her skin could pass as dark brown, though the blue tint was there if you knew to look, but the shape of her features called to mind Ireland.  Her hair was like unto flame.

The fact that she was an alien surprised no one.  The fact that she resembled a human at all surprised a great many people and led to massive amounts of speculation.

"Map, 'he-him," Corv gestured to a native Hawaiian whose body was, at most, half flesh~and~blood human.

The other half was composed of varying levels of prostheses.  His below the knee prosthetic on his left leg was a bog-standard civilian-purchasable model.  On the opposite end of the spectrum, his right arm and shoulder utilized technology that wasn't even supposed to exist.  Sleek, somewhat glowy, and doubtless possessing a strength and finesse mere mortals and mundanes could not hope to duplicate.

Enzie had known about Map before, but still found themselves fascinated by Map's head.  The top of Map's head was all machine, everyone knew that.  The change from flesh to tech followed a straight diagonal line that started near the crown, cut between the eyes --right electronic, left biological-- narrowly placed Map's nose on the flesh side, and continued to his cheek bone.

If the internal replacement followed the same pattern, there was no way Map should have survived loosing that much of his brain long enough for it to be replaced with whatever kind of computer could manage such a feat.

Enzie had never really thought about that before.  Before Enzie had mostly noted the odd hairstyle that results when more than half of one's scalp is no longer organic.

"And finally we have Icelos, 'he-him'," Corv said as she indicated four-foot two Caucasian guy with no features of any real note, in Enzie's opinion.

Enzie knew the name and knew the reputation, though.  Hispanic pagan with impressive combat skills who set the uptight white Anglo-Saxon protestant masses on edge before they even learned that he seemed to be able to take on the form of any living creature.  Yes that included blue whales; no it did not include redwoods.

"I'm thrilled to make all of your acquaintances, I'm sure," Enzie said, not bothering to sound sincere, while mentally taking inventory of how many arrows were ready in their quiver.  If things went badly, it would be very hard to get away.

-

[Previous][A Family Matter Index][Next] [Super Person Universe - Index]

-

Names:

As previously noted:
"Corv(ida)" means 'Crow/Raven' and "Aster" means 'Star'.

For the new names:

"Java" is a type of sparrow, the white dude who took him in, and whom he outgrew, was a member of a loose coalition of like minded individuals that pooled their resources (mostly access to incredible technology) so they all fight crime in spite of having no powers.  Said coalition is called "The Host", because that's the collective noun for sparrows (think "murder of crows" or "gaggle of geese".)

"Map" → MAP → Mechanically Augmented Person.  "Mechanically Augmented Person" is his preferred term for his ... classification of human.  (As opposed to, "Whoa, it's fuckin' cyborg!")  When it came time to make a code name, he went with it.  No, most people do not pick up on that meaning.

"Icelos" is the name of one of the three most prominent children of Hypnos (sleep).  He's a god of dream (one amoung many), and in dreams he can take the form of any animal, natural or mythical.

Family Matters (super person universe)

[I finally went to buy bread today.  Long walk both ways, but it means I can eat.  Anyway, a plotline for super-person universe was quite developed, though far from fully formed, by the time I got back home.  I'm thinking I'll do some installments to get what's in my head out.]
[Corv has previously appeared in "A Confrontation in Hell" and "Bunking Together" (those are placed in in-universe chronological order), this plot-line takes place after those.]

An arrow shot into the mechanical pangolin, and it was soon engulfed in an unnatural fire.  The ease with which it was dispatched did not bother Corv.  The fact that whoever had done so waited until it had led Corv away from the rest of her team did.

Someone landed behind her, and Corv expected a trap.

"Well, that was easy," a voice said.

As she turned she surveyed where the individual might have jumped from.  There was nowhere that would account for how light the landing had been.

"Here I thought I'd have to come up with some elaborate ruse to get to talk to you alone, and it turned out all I had to do was follow the sounds of explosions and screaming and then wait for a bit."

"My team is my family," Corv said.  "There is no positive reason for wanting to separate me from them."

"And here I stand still un-attacked," the individual said; "I sense a willingness to hear me out."

"If you have something of value to say," Corv said, "I would prefer that you say it quickly."

"Well, you know how you just said your team is your family?" the individual asked.  "You might want to reconsider that seeing as how you're no longer your father's only begotten daughter."

Corv suppressed disbelief, anger, confusion, doubt, and even fear so that she could say, "If what you say is true, it would have been better to approach my entire team," levelly.  "I shall summon them now."

"Wait, wait, wait," the individual said, now approaching.  Hands up and palms open obviously meant to indicate a lack of threat.  "I came to you, not your little club of vigilantes."

"We are an official branch of city law enforcement," Corv said.

"And sanctioned by the League of 'this didn't work for nations so why would we expect it to work for heroes?'; I know," the individual said.

Corv was vaguely amused.  She decided to let it show.  "The name 'United Heroes' evokes the feel of a corporation."

"That would be 'Heroes United', thank you very much."

"Now you evoke the feel of a football team," Corv countered.

"What rules?  Association, rugby, gridiron, Australian, or Gaelic?"

"I think it likely that you know I had in mind Manchester United when I said that," Corv said.

The individual shrugged and said, "Association.  Why not just call it 'soccer'?"

Corv's amusement had reached an end.  While she was not left ill-tempered by this fact, she did wish to move to the serious business at hand.

"I shall summon my team," she said.  "If you wish to be useful, you will tell me what makes you believe my father has sired another child."

"This is a family matter," the individual said, "not something that calls for a bunch of oddballs in silly uniforms."

Corv didn't allow her body to respond to that, but she was somewhat annoyed none the less.

Over the past year she had increasingly taken to wearing a hoodie and blue jeans --clothes she had identified as quintessentially normal for earthbound humans in this region-- as her mission garb and did not think it was fair to classify her as an oddball in a silly uniform.

Instead of responding to that part of the comment, she decided to respond to the first half.  "If what you say is true then it is a matter of my family."

"You didn't even know she existed a few minutes ago and now you claim her like she's some object?"  Corv could tell that the individual was genuinely upset at the idea.  "Fine.  Have it your way.  She's your family on her father's side and my family on her mother's."

Corv had been planning to say that her invocation of her family had been because she knew the threat her father posed rather than a claim of ownership, but she was shocked by the revelation of additional family ties.  Part of her mind very much wanted all of this to be a lie.  Things would be easier.

Unfortunately, nothing had given her any indications of deception.

After some silence, the individual said, "I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here.  Maybe we should start over."

Corv nodded.

"In informal settings I prefer to be called 'Corv', and my pronouns are 'she', 'hers', 'her'," Corv said.  "What is your name, and what are your pronouns?"

"I go by 'Enzie', unless you and I get exceptionally close in a real hurry, and 'they' et alia."

"Enzie," Corv said, "it is extremely doubtful that you know my father and his followers better than I do.  Please trust me when I say that we will require help.  My team is capable, I trust them, and by their vocation they have agreed to put their lives in great jeopardy."

Enzie didn't respond.  Instead they looked at the ground as though it had suddenly become interesting.

"Do you have an alternative suggestion as to where we might procure the help we will doubtless need?" Corv asked.

After a while, Enzie said, "I don't like your vocation, and I don't like your politics.  We have common cause because we share a relative who is almost certainly in great danger." They sighed.  "If I can put up with your team for the duration of our collaboration, it's only fair that they put up with me.  That means no digging into my past, no moral judgments, no lectures, and no law enforcement activities in my general direction."

"That seems equitable and viable," Corv said.  "It is, as you said, a family matter."

-

[A Family Matter Index][Next]
[Super Person Universe]

-

Enzie is one of the people who doesn't have a code name.  That said, the fact that "Enzie" is a shortening of "Mackenzie" is privileged information.  Enzie doesn't remember if "Mackenzie" is their first or last name, just that it is their real name.  The one their mother called them before she died.

As one might guess based on the prohibition on law enforcement activities in their direction, Enzie is a criminal.  Proud of it too.

The meta story (not at all worked out idea)

Long have I wanted to do a story where people just call things what they are in a very meta/Doyalist way.  If you don't get that, go to the embedded video at the end of this, watch it, grok it in fullness, and come back.

Things like,

"We have to get the plot device and Mcguffin before the Nazi-Stand-in Evil Empire if we want to win this contrived and unrealistic conflict without doing any of the work that would usually go into defeating an empire."

"Well the only way we'll have a chance is if we use [Incredible Ship whose appearance is much derided]."
"What's so great about Incredible but Labled-Ugly Ship?"

"It's fast.  Superlatively fast."

"How fast?"

"It moves at the speed of plot, it always gets us their in a nick of time."

And

"I've been thinking."

"Dangerous indeed."

"Why did Generic Bad Guys not do Really Obvious Thing that would have collapsed our entire Unrealistic Plan?"

"That's a Plot Hole, if you fall into it you might never get out, but more importantly, if you think about it, it could expand and destroy our entire Narrative."

Except, perhaps, even more meta.

Lonespark suggested this as an example of using an existing narrative as a base:

Gandalf: It is in men we must place our hope.

Elrond: Men?  Men are weak.  The race of Men is failing. The blood of Númenor is all but spent; its pride and dignity forgotten.

It is because of Men the Ring survives. I was there Gandalf. I was there three thousand years ago . . .

*Flashback*

… when Isildur took the Ring. I was there the day the strength of Men failed.

I led Isildur into the heart of Mount Doom, where the Ring was forged, the one place it could be destroyed.  It should've ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure.

Isildur kept the Ring. The line of kings is broken. There is no strength left in the world of Men.

I don't remember what we discussed, so I'm just going to wing it here:

It is on Target Audience we must depend.

Target Audience?  I insult Target Audience.  Ominous declaration regarding entirety of Target Audience.  The Inheriting Medium from Good Mythical Precursor Race is almost gone; its Good Things forgotten.

It is because of Target Audenice that the McGuffin still exists.  I was there Powerful and Mysterious Old Guy.  I was there Unit Of Time ago . . .  Flashback . . . when Mythical Precursor took the McGuffin.  I was there when Good Attribute of Target Audience broke down.

I led Mythical Precursor to McGuffin Destination, where the McGuffin was created, the one place it could be destroyed.  The Plot should have reached its conclusion in that Interval of Time, but Bad Thing survived.

Mythical Precursor kept the McGuffin.  The Important Succession Thing has ended.  There is no Good Attribute remaining in the Domain of Target Audience.

Or something like that.  Don't have all the kinks worked out yet.

-0-We have to get irritable but critical individual to join our cause.

"Remember, whatever happens, don't do the reckless and stupid thing."
*later*
"You did the reckless and stupid thing!?"

So on, so forth.

-

Here's the trailer (content note for ableist language and, of course, the stereotypes it makes fun of):

Always in the exhaust

DHHS knew that my sister's second child would probably be born before his due date.  They'd been told the family history (both sides) and were well aware that he was extremely likely to be born early.

The odds of a full term baby being born on its due date are 5% leaving a 95% chance that the child won't.  The range actually skews toward early anyway with a full term baby having three in five odds of being born before the due date.  Three in five by 95% gives a 57% chance that a randomly selected kid will be born early.

CJ was not a randomly selected kid.  Everyone knew that it was highly likely that he'd be born early, maybe even premature.  My sister kept pressing DHHS on that point because she wanted a plan in place before the child was born.  DHHS refused.

When, as expected, the child was born early (not even that much, well within expected bounds) DHHS refused to accept any phone calls or emails.  CJ was Friday's child.  Until Monday DHHS stonewalled.  In fact, they pretended that the entire agency didn't exist.  I shit you not.  They pretended that they had no phone, no fax, no internet, no physical locations, no employees, no presence in reality at all.

Obviously I speak only of Maine DHHS.  It is important to make such distinctions.  If I, for example, say that DHHS stands accused of stealing 13.4 million dollars from children (this is true) it should in no way be considered a statement about the organization run by Sylvia Mathews Burwell.  I speak of local matters.

Regardless, come Monday they stopped pretending that they didn't exist, stopped ignoring any information they were offered on CJ (they seriously wouldn't even allow themselves to be told he was a live birth) swooped in, got very haughty about the fact that someone under an investigation by them had maintained custody of an infant for the whole weekend they ignored the infant, took him away, starved him for eleven hours, initially tried to have him put on the auction block, and finally agreed that my sister could keep this one provided she abandoned her home, moved more than an hour away, and never let the child near his father.

An overzealous police officer with a twisted sense of humor and a penchant for physical abuse didn't manage to force my sister from her house in spite of kicking down the fucking door but DHHS did by threatening her three day old baby.

And, lest anyone doubt their resolve, they did go out of their way to starve him just to make the point that they would hurt CJ if they were not obeyed.

This was in November.

So many things have happened that it's honestly hard to keep track at this point.

What happened when and what order did it happen in and . . . fuck.

Did I mention that one of their workers fabricated a marriage that didn't exist so that they could say that forward progress couldn't take place until they were given a marriage certificate which was impossible because the marriage never happened?

Because they did that.  And then lied to my sister about the process needed to correct the error by claiming that no such process existed.  In fact, it took only a few keystrokes to fix things, the problem was that no one would put her in touch with someone with the authority to make those keystrokes because the person who was supposed to was pretending the keystrokes didn't exist.

Of course the person whose job it was to tell my sister how to fix things, and didn't, was the one who broke them in the first place.  Sort of makes sense that this DHHS worker wouldn't want to quickly dismantle a roadblock she herself had built.

Did I mention the fact that they changed my sister's "official" address without her knowledge or consent?  See, what that does is completely change the circumstances involved in getting aid.

If my address is my real address, then I qualify for various types of aid on account of disability.  If my address were to suddenly become 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, Washington, D.C. then the number of people in my household changes, the income goes way up, as does the collective wealth owned by residents in the house.  So on, so forth.

Did I mention that they prevented Cody from getting medical care and then argued that he couldn't be trusted around children because of the medical care that they prevented him from getting?

Did I mention that the tiny windows of visitation they haven't taken away are always (somehow, mysteriously, in ways that they claim they cannot change) scheduled at times they know Cody has to be somewhere else?  (And, yeah, they pretty much have his entire schedule, given that they're the driving force behind it.)

Did I mention that the information they're using is consciously one sided as they've taken the raw data (for example, extensive police files) and thrown out the stuff that casts my sister, Cody, or their relationship with their children in a positive light (for example, witness reports of what actually happened and the conclusion of the investigation)?

Did I mention that .?.

Did I mention that DHHS' official stance on all of this and more is that it's not anyone fucking up, it's their god damned standard procedure?

(Are they telling the truth about it being standard procedure, or are they lying?  How does one judge the veracity of those who are so morally bankrupt that they would take some 13.4 million in federal aid money away from the most vulnerable children in their home state [for whom it was intended and required to be given under federal, but not state, law]?)

Did I mention that because she can't set foot in her own home while she is taking care of her baby stopping the house from freezing by putting oil in the tank requires her to pass her infant off to someone who has gone through the background checks, hoops, and hell necessary to be designated as an acceptable care giver?

Because this last one has an effect upon me.  See, she can't take the child to her property, which means that the trade off has to happen at not-her property.  And my house is where such high stakes baby handling must inevitably take place.

And when someone is running late, for whatever the reason, I get to hear one side of a one sided phone conversation in which my sister pours out the anger and frustration that results from five months (less two days) of being abused by DHHS, being lied to by DHHS, being lied about by DHHS, being tricked by DHHS, being stripped of her home by DHHS, being stripped of her healthcare by DHHS, being forced to run in circles by DHHS, being threatened by DHHS, being pushed around by DHHS, being . . .

I have to hear every word.  It burns into my mind.  It brings me down.  It makes me hurt.

With what my sister is going through, I understand her need to vent.  But fuck does it suck getting caught in that exhaust.

Though that's perhaps the most normal part of all this.  Members of my family have always left me in the path of the exhaust while they vented.

If it hasn't been this serious before, that's simply because until three years and ten-ish months ago there was never a kid younger than me to be placed in peril, and until five months (less 2 days) Jensen never really was.

Now he and CJ exist in a fragile state where they are subject to the whims of people who live up to every fear, however irrational, of government bureaucrats that's been popularized.

Maybe these people have always been there, maybe this is a symptom of the state government being run by a man who thinks the government is evil by default, and therefore has no problem with it being evil in reality.

The one most involved these days, and doing the most damage, came to the agency well after the case had been opened.  Long enough after that it wasn't just Governor LePage one saw as the face of government.  It was also President Elect Trump.  Is it a coincidence, I wonder, that she embodies all of the bad things they believe about government.  If we assume the worst is unavoidable and thus inevitable, does that mindset lead to letting the worst happen?

If situations like this are, in your opinion, the inevitable result of government doing anything, then trying to prevent such shit-storms, cluster-fucks, and cluster of shit-storm fucks* would be as pointless as trying to prevent the sun from rising.  Why bother when nothing will come of it?

Could the belief that government is always bad lead to a complete lack of quality control when it comes to government actions and employees?

Or could it be that I've just been reminded of how very, very shit life is, and I'm trying to pull some meaning from that in hopes that it will dull the pain?

-

*
Shit-storm of cluster-fucks?
Cluster of fucking shit-storms?
Fuck-shit cluster storms?
Clustered storms of mother fucking shit?
Storms of cluster-shit-fucks?
Fuck-shit, it's a cluster-storm!
Stormy clusters of shit-fucks?

Yeah, no idea.  Something.

Excerpt from the findings of the Tri-Rodent Commission on the recent inexplicable events

Due to the lack of confirmed hamster sightings in the immediate area a near consensus has formed rejecting the "Gnawed on by Hamsters" theory, however, for a dissenting view, please see The Chronicles of the Hamster I·ninja·ati, in particular "Chapter 7: Gnawing Undetected".

Coffee Meeting -or- "Page, I'm Straight." (super people)

Mishap realized something and pulled herself back, stat up straight, and did her best to put on a serious face.  Then she said, "Page, I'm straight."

"That's disappointing," Page said, "but it is neither an unforseen possibility nor is it a deal-breaker for me.  I do not hold the fact that you are straight against you.  Some of my best friends are straight.  You can't help it if you were born that way."

Mishap was on the verge of cracking up.

"I do not find the prospect of being friends with you suddenly repulsive because of the revelation that you're straight," Page said.  "Truly I tell you that I'm not about to run off screaming because you are straight."

Mishap broke down and laughed.  When she was done she said, "I just thought, with how you were acting. . ."

The pause was, perhaps, a bit too long, but Page picked up once she knew that Mishap wasn't going to complete her thought.

"Yeah, I know, sorry about that," she said.  "I can't help it."  After a beat she continued, "Ok, that's not quite true.  I can help it if I'm watching myself for it but usually I don't think to do that.  Point is: I wasn't doing it on purpose.  When I feel like I have a chance with someone I'm interested in I just slip into flirty-mode without trying to or realizing I'm doing it."

"Ok. . ." Mishap said cautiously.

"Now that I know that I don't have a chance," Page said, "it won't be a problem.  If I haven't weirded you out too much, can we go back to talking about other things."

"Um . . ." Mishap found she couldn't remember what they were talking about.  She fell back on an old standby: when in doubt, ramble at random.  "I was walking down the street the other day and I heard this massive sound of wrongness at the intersection ahead of me; since I've been bumping into them so much I was half-convinced it was my old team.

"Fortunately it was just a giant ooze monster."

"Because that's so much better," Page said dryly.

"So I was going to ignore the situation and hope it went away, but then there were some kids --superlatively stupid kids-- that attracted the monster's attention.  Had to save them."

"That sounds heroic."  Someone who didn't know Page wouldn't have picked up on it, but Mishap knew that she was being needled.

"Don't.  Start," Mishap said.  "Besides, who is having coffee with a villain right now?"

"Civilians are just weird," Page said.  "It's hard to find people who understand what the life is like."

Mishap nodded.  "Given," she said.

"Plus you did save my life," Page said.

It felt like she should deny that, so Mishap asked, "When?" as if she didn't know.

"The park," Page said.  "When you shot-shoved Tinker in the back."

"Noticed that, did you?"

Page nodded.

"Well, not wanting people dead hardly makes me a saint," Mishap said.

Page held up her hands, "I'm not still on that.  It just seems like a peaceful coffee is . . . within an epsilon neighborhood of the least I could do in response to you saving me."

"What sized delta are we talking about?" Mishap asked.

Page chuckled.

Ah, math, Mishap thought.  Something so many people derided or took for granted, but Page got it.  A rare thing indeed.  Then she made a connection back to what she had been saying.

"Actually, back at the ooze monster," Mishap said, "I met a fire elemental who would understand that."

"How powerful?"

"Low raw power, but he could do the 'flames that don't consume the source' thing which allowed him to light un-lightable things like marbles.  Combine that with the fact that he's massively skilled with a sling and there's some real potential there."

"Leanings?"

"Said he was apolitical," Mishap said.  "Didn't even have a handle when I met him."

"Newbie with the right combination of talent and skill, then," Page said.

Mishap nodded.  "We had doughnuts after the ooze was dealt with."

"How did you deal with the ooze if he was low powered?"

"Water-main had an unfortunate failure; the city really needs to invest in infrastructure."

"That was you?"

"Who else?" Mishap asked.

"Ordinary wear and tear?" Page asked.

Mishap simply held Page's gaze.

"Ok, fine, this town is caught up in the epic war between good and evil to the point that nothing has a mundane rational explanation and therefore everything must be a result of people with powers," Page said.  "I concede."

"If only I could get you to give up that fast in a fight," Mishap said.  She let herself smirk.

"Not the best topic for pleasant conversation," Page said, "besides, I find myself intrigued.  Straight girl met a guy and had doughnuts.  Is there anything there?"

"No," Mishap said.  "There isn't.  I don't rule out the possibility, but no spark, no signs of anything other than companionship, no reason to expect anything else.  I am capable of meeting a member of the opposite sex without being infatuated.  I'm a bit suspicious of you for even implying that."

"Suspicious?"

"Do Erratic and Squire have to worry about romance complicating the workplace?"

"No one needs to worry about me," Page said a bit defensively, "and it's hardly a secret that that wouldn't be able to come up even if I were worrisome."

"Tinker did the opposition research," Mishap said; "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Squire is so straight laser beams envy her," Page said; "Erratic is the quintessential flirt, and she's really good at it, but when it comes to anything else . . . well she's asexual aromantic.  I want romance and physical contact.  Preferably at the same time."

"How did we end up talking about the sexuality of more than half your team, with yours in detail to boot?" Mishap asked.

"Your fault."

"Usually is."

"How's solo life?" Page asked.

"Had to go apartment shopping," Mishap said, "that's a Hell I don't recommend.  Still, no boss means no schedule.  I'm not hurting for funds so I can take it easy for a bit.  I'll be a while before we meet professionally again."

"I've got no problem with that," Page said.  "Easier for when I'm not up a magic-cancelling adept."

"Ditto on both parts," Mishap said.  "Any chance I could convince you to lay off when next--" the look on Page's face stopped her.  "I suppose it wouldn't be fun that way anyway."

Both took sips of their coffees.  Mishap planned to let the conversation loose and allow it to go where it would.

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[Shared Super-person Universe - Index]