December (3)

"'Sustained minor injuries in the battle against Leviathan, and is taking some personal time to recover and maintain his gear,' huh? News to me."

As greetings went, it wasn't the best, and when Battery failed to give Assault even a warning tap for his tone… well, Miss Militia knew how to recognize a fight she wasn't going to win. Not that she'd even wanted this particular battle in the first place. She sighed, sat at the cafeteria table across from the couple, and lowered her voice. "I didn't write the press release."

"You delivered it well enough," Assault muttered, and this time Battery did give him a warning tap.

"Don't start, please," she sighed again, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Battery gave her a questioning look. "I just got done with talking to first Chevalier, then Chevalier and Director Piggot."

"That sounds… pleasant. What'd Chevalier want? This is a long way from Philly to just pop up out of the blue."

"Dragon spilled the beans to him about Armsmaster," Militia replied, and got a blank look in return. "He and Armsmaster are more or less best friends."

"Huh. Really? I didn't know that," Assault said. "How'd that happen? Shared love of being sticks in the mud?"

"No…" Militia trailed off, and waited for Assault to take a drink of his coffee. "They were roommates in college."

Battery waited for the choking and sputtering to die down a bit before she asked, "Are you being serious, or was that just an assassination attempt? Because good try if it's the latter."

"Serious. Chevalier did the work-study program in New York once he graduated from the Wards, before they changed that policy to the continuing education requirements we have now. Armsmaster was there doing the same thing, with a handful of hours every week studying under Hero." Miss Militia shrugged, saying, "I don't think they shared a dorm for more than a year, though. Armsmaster started taking online classes exclusively, so he started getting moved around the country to a lot of different teams."

"I wouldn't have expected Armsmaster to be the type of person to share a living space under any circumstances, but putting that aside for the moment— I'm guessing Chevalier didn't just drop by to visit?" Battery asked, giving the still-coughing Assault a few pats on the back in sympathy.

"He did, actually, but that just made him angry. He—" Miss Militia stopped, then grimaced. She lowered her voice a bit further. "Look, this doesn't leave this table, understood?"

Assault and Battery exchanged a glance, then huddled forward over the table a bit. Miss Militia followed suit, saying, "I don't know the details, but Chevalier had apparently spoken to Armsmaster recently. He thinks Armsmaster wasn't just sick, he thinks he may have Second Triggered."

"Are you fucking serious?" Assault hissed a breath through his teeth, while Battery gave Assault another warning tap on the shoulder. "No, I'm not buying it. Not possible."

"Why?" Battery asked, though whether she was speaking to her or to Assault, Miss Militia was unsure. Assault had much less hesitation.

"Loads of parahumans go through tougher stuff than their Triggers all the time; that's why Second Triggers are so rare that they're practically just a theory. The idea is you'd have to get into something so bad, your first time around doesn't even compare. Which means Chevalier is speaking out of his ass, because nothing happened to Armsmaster before he keeled over." Assault huffed, frustration coloring his words. "There's studies that suggest different types of parahumans Trigger in different ways, it's not exact, but it's there. And all signs point to Tinkers and, like, Masters being slow burns. I've been here for three years and he's been the exact same the whole time I've known him."

Miss Militia was silent for a long moment. "He… didn't used to be this way."

"I'm with him on this one," Battery poked at Assault's arm, "but what do you mean?"

Behind her mask, Miss Militia chewed on her bottom lip in thought. She'd met Armsmaster through Chevalier years back, and to this day she did consider the Tinker a friend; as far as she knew, it was mutual. But while the Tinker had never exactly been outgoing… "He wasn't quite so serious all the time. I mean, he still took things very seriously—I remember he was so easy to rile up, Mouse Protector had a ball with him—but you could still coax him out of his lab to go do things, and he'd get excited about things that he liked."

"But for the past several years, he... " Militia shook her head. "Over time, he started to distance himself more. Didn't go out as much, spent more time tinkering. And I thought, that's just what he wanted, he's a Tinker, that's what makes him happy. Even when he started living out of his lab, I'm pretty sure everyone thought, 'yes, that's just like Armsmaster.'"

"Well… to be fair, that does sound more efficient than going back and forth between work and home," Battery pointed out.

"That's exactly what I mean! It's things like that, we expect it from Armsmaster. You saw those daily records he made that Dragon unlocked for us. All his time budgeted down to the minute like that? Three hours for sleep a day, at least eighteen spent working, this wasn't new! It's not like he was hiding it, the only real surprise was his chart for keeping track of headaches." Miss Militia scrubbed a hand through her hair in frustration, messing up her ponytail.

"Okay, yes, it's kind of creepy, but it's not like anyone put a gun to his head and told him to stop sleeping," Battery argued. "He chose to do that. He certainly never complained."

"No, he didn't, so everyone thought he was fine, I thought he was fine! Then along comes Chevalier, saying he wasn't, and he hasn't been for a really long time."

"And that's my point," Assault countered, "because if Armsmaster was so miserable he could Trigger from it, we'd have known about it! We would have to, there's— there's no way the whole team would just let that slip by, right?"

Assault's face fell as he looked first to Miss Militia's crumpled expression, then to Battery's growing frown. "...right?"

"That's what Chevalier wanted to know."

"But, assuming he's right, and Armsmaster really was unhappy," Battery spoke up, asking, "then why wouldn't he say anything? At any point, even."

"...reciprocation," Miss Militia muttered, then coughed a bit when Battery raised an eyebrow at her. "Ah, well— look at it this way: if you were upset, or having troubles in your personal life, would you go to Armsmaster to talk about it?"

"No," the couple answered in unison. Assault flashed Battery a quick grin before continuing, "He's not exactly approachable, you know? It'd be like expecting empathy from a cactus."

"But if nobody trusts him enough to confide in, why would he trust anyone to listen to him?"

* * *

Sun, in the reversed position: setbacks, a transient depression. Magician, in the reversed position: poor planning, misuse of talents. Temperance, in the reversed position: lack of vision, imbalance. Yu wasn't using a spread for the cards, just pulling them one by one, and while as accurate as ever they weren't telling him anything he didn't already know.

Which was, after all, the point of a Tarot reading. Perhaps it was only fair that after experiencing Igor's delight at drawing cards, Yu should feel the frustration of having them drawn for him. With a sigh, he started sliding the drawn cards back into the deck. It was almost time for him to be going, anyway, a decision made easier by the lack of customers in the Market today. Perhaps the chill in the air was to blame, or maybe Yu's expression conveyed a sense that he wanted to be left alone.

Or did, until one elegant finger pressed down on his Tarot deck, then slid the top card off of the stack to reveal The Star, in the upright position. "Oh, how responsive! I'm certain my master will be most pleased to hear you've a talent for this."

Yu's gaze whipped up until he met Margaret's, and the Attendant winked at him. "Hello, dear guest. I had a feeling I should come and check on you."

"Margaret!" He reached for her hands, and she suffered him to clasp them tightly, seeking comfort. To see Igor's assistant outside of the Velvet Room was, well, rare to say the least. He still wasn't sure how she managed it. To Yu's understanding, the Velvet Room and its inhabitants were… not inhuman, exactly. But not really part of humanity, either. "Margaret, I… I did something terrible."

"I wouldn't be so quick to affix that label. Enthusiastic, certainly, but terrible remains to be seen." He released her hands, and the woman in blue sat down opposite him. "I cannot blame you; I may have done the same, if I understand the situation correctly. As my sister has often insisted, there are very few problems Megidolaon cannot solve."

"For now, let me reassure you: it seems this man you are concerned for will live. But…" Margaret frowned. It was not an expression Yu was used to seeing on her. But the expression faded, and she gestured at his Tarot deck instead. "Well— for the moment, would you permit me to read your fortune, guest? I apologize for my earlier rudeness, as well. It is dreadfully unlucky to use another's cards without permission."

"Of course," Yu said. Margaret smiled at him in response, then passed her hand over the Tarot deck. The top three cards drifted off of the stack of their own volition, and arranged themselves in a line before him. Yu reflexively took a quick look around, but though the Lord's Market wasn't empty, nobody seemed to be looking their way. Margaret carefully turned over the first card.

"Here is your card, though it should come as no surprise," she said, and tapped the card with her fingernail. "The World, in the upright position. You have worked diligently to grasp the truth of the world, and in doing so, have come to understand the truth of your own heart. Knowing your own nature and desires is a great accomplishment, but one you must not rest easy upon."

She turned over the next card, and her expression grew serious. "The Wheel of Fortune, in the reversed position. This indicates more than a simple run of bad luck, Yu. There are forces at work beyond your control, and the aid that I can give you is limited. My master is bound by certain… rules, we shall say, and I to him."

"Margaret…" Yu started to speak, but she held up a finger to silence him. The third card was turned over.

"The High Priestess, in the upright position. Like the Moon, this card contains a sense of mystery, but this card is not based in obfuscation. Rather, this card recommends that you heed your intuition, and the mysteries of the subconscious mind, if you wish to overturn that Wheel." The three cards abruptly slid together and back into the deck. Margaret pressed her hand over his and leaned forward. "I have a gift for you; two, in fact, though I could only deliver one to you here. I left it in your coat pocket. For the other, I humbly suggest that you come and visit me in the Velvet Room."

"I'd love to, but, Margaret—" Yu protested, even as the Attendant stood from her chair and began to walk away, her blue heels clicking on the pavement. "—I haven't seen any doors, and the Velvet Key disappeared."

"Did you forget so quickly?" she asked him, and turned her head to meet his eyes. "Only one who is bound by a contract may enter. In the coming days, I suggest you find a promise worthy of The World that you wish to keep."

And just like that, she was gone. Yu looked down at the Tarot deck, then carefully scooped it up and put it back in his pocket. There was nothing sharing that space, nor anything in the pocket on his other side, so… had she meant his costume's coat? Yu's eyes widened. His costume! He was going to be late!

* * *

Bitch scowled at Yu as he stood in the shadow of her doorway, still hastily doing up buckles and getting his helmet on straight even as the rest of the Undersiders parked their car in the gravel driveway of her dog shelter. Grue got out first, already trailing wisps of darkness. "Okay, Bitch, what is this abou— who is that?"

She jerked her thumb behind her, gesturing to Yu even as he finally got his costume settled and walked up behind her. He took up position behind her right shoulder, faced the Undersiders, and gave a slight bow. "Banchō. Works for me part-time. Figured you should meet."

Grue made an eerie hissing noise from inside his helmet. "Bitch, you can't just make your own gang, we're a team, and we make decisions as a team."

"S'not a team, I just said. He's a part-timer, helps with the dogs," she said, as behind her Yu starts patting down his coat, until he came across an odd bulk in one of them. "Said he'd help sometimes if I wanted, so I thought you should know."

"Banchō? That's a Japanese word, isn't it?" Tattletale spoke up, eyeing her newest information target. Yu managed to extricate the gift Margaret had left for him, the sudden movement making Grue tense. "How do we know he's not ABB, or— or— ...what is he doing?"

Bitch looked back at Yu, who was brandishing a telescopic fishing pole at the sky. She turned back to her team and grunted, "I dunno, he's weird like that."