Montage 2.3
July 11th, 2007
"Will it expand at all?" I asked, flexing.
"Somewhat," Bones said, walking in a slow circle. "It's made with growth in mind, so if necessary it can be let out to match your height."
As a costume, it was a miracle of compromise.
The outfit I envisioned had been darkly medieval, all black steel and red outlined edges. Somehow, my detailed sketch failed to impress the Protectorate.
The new costume was intimidating in a different way. Careful, precisely arranged padding made me subtly larger, and the design was such that I even looked a little taller. The color scheme was white and gold, calling to mind both Scion and Alexandria with a rather long, elegant gilded cape. The mask was a simple domino with a near-invisible strap, molded in such a way as to avoid giving away the actual contours of my face.
"You don't think it's. . ." I hesitated, flaring the cape behind me with a short spin. ". . . Too much?"
That was alotof serious connotations for someone of my rather short stature. It had looked cool on paper, but now that I was wearing it I felt incredibly self-conscious. Then again, I thought the whole cape industry was pretty stupid, so. . .
"I'm told there are very high hopes for you in the upper echelons," Bones said, face neutral as always. "The fabric has been reinforced to resist the wear and tear of high speeds, and it is technically bulletproof. However, it is notable that force will be transmitted through it almost perfectly, with deleterious consequences to anyone without a brute rating. It's called non-interference fabric."
"Tinker tech?" I asked, interested.
"Yes – the same type used for Alexandria's costume. I'm told the materials were shipped in from California." She pushed her glasses up with one hand. "I trust I don't need to tell you that this costume was very expensive."
"Huh." I pinched the fabric slightly. It didn'tfeellike an indestructible pseudo-material; I bet if I tried, I could probably rip it. The cape would probably be useful if someone started shooting at today's interview.
True to Riley's advice, I was keeping my ability off as much as possible in an attempt to normalize my aging. She'd provided me with a few 'booster shots' that would accelerate the onset of puberty, making the most of the time I spent without invulnerability, but now wasn't the time. I didn't expect someone to attack a Wards debut, but this was Boston, and I didn't know all the local villains the way I did Brockton.
Out here, a split seconds activation time could have deadly consequences for the people around me. I left the powers on.
"What should I expect from the interview?" I asked, settling my cape. Watching it move and flash gold was almost hypnotic.
"You aren't the only Ward being introduced today. There are two others, both of whom have just turned ten, and your birthdays were close enough that it was decided the three of you would share the same interview." Bones gave me a rather severe look. "While you may be the youngest, I am given to understand that you are the most mature; therefore, please keep in mind that you are representing the Protectorate."
Yikes; with a glare like that, she'd make a mean librarian. I nodded. "Right. And the questions?"
"You've seen the tapes of previous interviews? Basically that. They know not to blindside Wards; we'd boycott them if they did, and the 'live' feed actually has a ten second delay if we need to cause technical difficulties." She gave me one last critical look, then nodded and gestured. "You're ready."
I heard the people before I saw them.
Oh God,instantstage fright.
Easy now. I took a deep breath, then blew it out as I stepped past the curtain. From the other side – the female dressing room – the others walked nervously onto the set. I expected chairs, but instead we got a couch; was that a symbolic of solidarity, or was I reading too much into it?
I had to laugh; not ten minutes in and I was already paranoid. One of the girls gave me a suspicious look; the other tried to smile, but the way her foot was tapping told me all I needed to know about her mindset. Awave of sympathywashed over me for my fellow sister in suffering.
"Sovereign," I told the second one, extending a hand. "Nice costume."
"Diviner," she said, nervousness easing slightly. She was wearing a black wig, and a pretty good one – I could just barely tell she was blonde underneath, and I was cheating with super-senses. Her costume was an interesting blend of blues and greens, looking like fairly basic but well-tailored leather. I doubted it was bulletproof. "And thanks – yours is, uh, interesting?"
"Yeah," I grimaced. "I know. And, sorry, what was your name again?"
The first girl sighed when I turned to face her, obviously not wanting to socialize. Her costume was white and green, with a lot of weird swooping lines and occasional body armor panels. It was disorienting to watch her move, which I thought was an interesting hidden defense. "Vista."
"Really?" I asked, raising my eyebrows; she looked a surlier than I remembered her being described. "Going to guess – Shaker? We had a guy in the wards named Landscape who could change the environment with his artwork, so I imagine it's somewhat similar?"
"Yup,"Vista said, popping the P. "Spatial warping - I've had the Protectorate swarming around me fordaystesting how my power works, and I'm just alittleirritated. Sovereign – I'm guessing probably some sort of Master power? Monarch-lite?"
I grimaced. "No, I'm mostly just a Brute - Alexandria without the flying. What about you Diviner?"
Diviner looked uncomfortable at being the center of attention. "I'm – I'm a Thinker. I can sense people from really long distances, and I can predict what they're doing."
"Sounds useful," I mused, rubbing my chin. "Especially on patrol – you could sense muggings before they happen."
"It's- it's usually not that precise at long range."
"Good to see you've all introduced yourselves!" A voice booming from beyond the stage startled us, making the space around Vista twist; I had to admire her instincts. "I'm Kay and we're on in ten, so let's go over the intro again. All three of you are going to be behind the screen to start with, then you'll pop out when they say your name, shake my hand, and then sit. Got it?"
...
"-and you're watching Kay Fabulous, your one stop Cape news source! I'm your host, Kay, and today we've got three extra special guests joining us this evening all the way from Brockton Bay!" With my enhanced senses, I could see him gesture despite being behind the divider. "Everyone give a warm welcome to the newest members of the Protectorate, Diviner, Vista, and Sovereign!"
The moment I stepped out in the light and noise, my posture straightened and I flashed the cameras a guileless smile.
The studio audience was small, but there were alotof people behind those cameras. I noticed Miss Militia, Armsmaster and at least three PRT troopers lurking in the background, covering entrances. Everyone else just looked happy to be there, and they cheered when they saw us.
"That's right folks, it's that time of year again – Ward initiation!" Kay gestured broadly, indicating all three of us. One by one, we walked up and shook his hand, the music playing loudly. "How are you all doing today?"
"Fine."
"Excellent."
"Kind of hungry."
Everyone in the room gave me an odd look. I flashed the smile again, more embarrassed than happy. Kay laughed, a jovial, echoing noise.
Miss Militia slapped her face with one palm; Armsmaster just sighed.
What? I'm following my instincts.
"I know what you mean, we always film these things right before dinner. No worries Sovereign, there'll be time for roast beef and mashed potatoes later." Kay gestured at the couch, still beaming. "Please, take a seat."
We obeyed, though I had to abort and retry; my cape was more difficult to manage than I expected.
I hate omens.
"So," Kay began, steepling his fingers, "I was going to lead with a joke but since the ice is already broken, I think I'll lead with the first and most important question that peoplealwaysask – what makesyouwant to be a hero? Vista?"
"I suppose my family's responsible for me being a hero," Vista said after a moment of thought. I was probably the only one who noticed the slight frown on her face. "There's also the benefits - Ward's get good benefits."
"What else are you going to do with your powers?" Diviner deflected when Kay looked at her. "I mean, I just wanted to do some good."
All eyes turned to me.
Another thing to add to my List of Eternal Hatred, right below ballroom dancing – public speaking.
"Um," I blinked, mind racing. A half-truth pulled itself together. "I suppose it was Miss Militia. They actually wanted to call me Lil' Patriot for a while there, but I talked them down to Sovereign."
"It would have made the costume selection easy," Kay pointed out, smiling. "Can't go wrong with the Stars and Stripes."
"I suppose," I told him, smiling despite my inward grievance with the proposed costume.
The questions continued – favorite color, favorite music, favorite hero, and etcetera. The whole thing was less serious and far more banal than I expected; it honestly reminded me of a tabloid interview.
"And now we get to the other question that people always want answered," Kay continued, "after these messages!"
The music cut off.
"Phew," he said, sagging backwards in his chair. "Air conditioning must be on the fritz, it's gotta be atleastseventy eight in here. Take a short break kids – crackers and cheese in the back room, bottles of water too if you need a drink."
"Sovereign!" Miss Militia called ominously from the audience, standing up.
"That sounds like a great idea!" I said quickly, making a swift retreat behind the curtain. "Be back in three!"
...
"So, let's get to the reallyfunpart," Kay said, grinning. "Powers! Diviner?"
"I'm a Thinker," she said, trying to smile. "I can sense people and help coordinate other heroes. It's not very flashy, but it helps when multiple crimes are spread out over a large area."
"Interesting," Kay said, raising his eyebrows. "For those at home, 'Thinker' is the classification for parahumans with mental or sensory abilities. Can you tell me how many people are in the building right now?"
"Thirty two, including the parking lot," Diviner said, closing her eyes. "Also, your boss - at least, I think it's your boss - is upset about something, you might want to tread lightly."
Impressed murmuring from the peanut gallery.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," the talk show host said wryly. "Vista?"
"I'm a Shaker," Vista said. "That means I can control my surroundings. My ability is to warp space – shrink distances, increase distances, loop distances, that sort of thing."
"Can you give us a demonstration?" Kay handed her a bottle of water and a glass.
Vista nodded, took it, then concentrated. After a moment, she put the glass to one side, then poured the bottle out on the other. The water splashed downwards, then, incredibly, did a rather disorienting twist and landed in the glass. When the glass filled, she kept pouring, keeping the water trapped in an infinite corkscrew.
The spectatorsooh'd andaah'd as she directed it back into the bottle.
"Amazing," Kay said, clapping enthusiastically; Vista turned as the audience followed suit. "That's pretty versatile – there's no escaping from you, eh?"
"Nope," she declared proudly, handing the bottle back. Kay took an experimental sip, then shrugged and capped it off.
"I think Brockton Bay has a bright future ahead of it," Kay said diplomatically, turning to me. "So, Sovereign – I'd guess either minion control or an Alexandria package?"
"The second," I told him, grinning sheepishly. "I can't fly yet, but I'm pretty tough. Sorry, it's not that flashy."
"'Can't fly yet,' huh? Dreams for the future?"
I couldn't demonstrate my power without breaking something, so he obviously wanted to expand the personal section. "I feel like there's a trick to it that I just haven't picked up. I'll keep working at it – anything worth doing, well, you might as well fly while doing it right?"
It was a pretty weak joke to my ears, but Kay chuckled and an imaginary laugh track went off in my head. "So, what's the story behind the name? I heard it went through a lot of revision?"
I feigned a look of horror, eyes wide and staring out at the cameras. "You havenoidea."
Every cape in the room smiled, with the exception of Armsmaster.
"On a serious note, I sort of grew up with the Wards." I admitted. "I got my powers pretty young, so even though I haven't been fighting crime I'm good at using them. Back then, though, you had a little kid who could bench press a tank and walk through walls inalltheworstways. The Wards at the time started calling me the Tiny Tyrant 'cause they had to put up with me, and Tyrant just kind of . . .stuck."
"Ahhh, I think I'm seeing how we got to Sovereign," Kay said, snapping his fingers.
"It was stubborn of me, but I was sort of used to it," I said, rubbing the back of my head. My hair was covered with a thin, darkening wig and it itched. "Of course, Tyrant sounded like the name of Alexandria's latest nemesis, so it had to go."
Laughter. Miss Militia shot me a Look; I was going off script. Any more and they might . . . well, I doubted they'd pull the plug, but I'd get chastised later.
"I for one like the new name," the talk show host said. "It's a - a miracle of compromise!"
I agreed; that's what the PRT is best at after all – compromise.
There were a few more questions, but the rest of the interview was mostly uneventful. I continued my 'polite but naïve' front the entire time, while my compatriots slowly warmed up to the whole process.
The fun part was over. Now came the boring pieces.
...
Bones chewed me out over 'interfering with my branding' afterwards, but I found it difficult to care. Miss Militia was waiting patiently outside the door; everyone else had already left.
"Did you have fun?" She asked, a smile in her voice.
"Not really," I admitted. "Kind of boring."
She chuckled. "We didn't have these when I started – the first time the public saw us was when we stopped a crime. It was a bit less effective for PR purposes. Come on – let's grab your sister and eat, then we can do something fun."
"We can't eat Riley!" I objected. "Whoknowswhat kind of germs we'd ingest!"
Miss Militia rolled her eyes and slapped me on the back of the head. I rubbed the sore spot, eyes watering.
Worth it.
"Just try not to embarrass the entire Protectorate," she grumbled, holding the door open for me. I grinned at her impudently.
You can hope, I suppose.