(Author's note: In late November SJ-Chan, the author of the Personal Reality Supplement, passed away. I was contacted and asked to write a dedication in my next chapter. Given what I have been personally dealing with over the past month I was happy to do what I could to commemorate SJ-Chan's passing.
I never had the chance to interact with SJ-Chan, but her work has served as a foundational element of my story from the very first chapter. My story and so many other works in the Jumpchain community only exist thanks to the contribution of the time and talents of so many skilled authors. The Personal Reality Supplement was a document that I always particularly admired. In addition to providing a common utility for everyone in the community, the document was written with great precision and a thorough understanding of how each aspect of it would be used and what was needed to support the kinds of adventures that were featured in the Jumpchain community.
The loss of SJ-Chan was tragic both for those close to her and those who missed their chance to get to know her. I can only express my gratitude for her work and express my regret at the passing of such a talented author and member of the community.)
100.1 Interlude Sabah
Sabah stood to the side of the hall as she watched Garment's final showing of the event. As expected, the woman had saved her most ostentatious display for the finale. As if the rest of the event hadn't driven home the excess of her powers and resources, she just had to finish by bringing the entire room under her command.
Well, the decorations of the room. Despite reasonable fears on the matter, Garment wasn't controlling the audience, or at least not directly. She had certainly managed to capture their attention effectively. Every guest in the hall, both cape and civilian, stood stupefied by the display. Things had started relatively simple, at least by what were apparently Garment's standards of simplicity. She took the stage with long trailing ribbons that danced through the air like living things. And then the ribbons grew longer, and longer, until they extended through the entire show building.
Range, scale, and precision. It was a demonstration of everything that made a shaker powerful. But of course Garment hadn't stopped there. While the guests gawked at the fluttering bands of colors Garment's control spread to the rest of the room. All round them the banners, drapes, and bunting that decorated the hall came to life.
Sabah had needed to clamp down on her reaction when the entire room suddenly moved at Garment's command. While the rest of the crowd gasped in astonishment, she took what solace she could in her own power. Sabah's costume was saturated with the energy of her telekinesis. Her power held it locked in place, with every drape and fold bending to her command.
That would have been a lot more comforting if she hadn't personally experienced how easily Garment could usurp her control. She still remembered the feeling of that silk sample, also infused with the full might of her power, as it slid through the air at Garment's command.
Garment's power wasn't something she could counter, but at the very least she would know if she was being affected. Sabah's awareness extended to every thread of her costume. If Garment acted upon any part of it, she would know. It wasn't proof against the woman's influence, but at the very least she didn't need to worry about subtle manipulations. Still, that was cold comfort as her heart hammered in her chest at Garment's display of power.
"Look!" Sabah was started out of her thoughts by the excited cry. She turned to Tetra who was standing next to her with the rest of the models. The red headed girl pointed to the lively display above them. "The way everything is fluttering, it's like a windstorm!"
The other models, Sky, Connie, and Amber, all smiled indulgently at the Tetra as she continued to watch the display with wide, shining eyes. Honestly, with the girl's excited tone in that now familiar accent it was difficult to avoid indulging her point of view.
Tetra did have a point. While Sabah knew it was all direct control from Garment, she was at least creating an impression that the movement was natural. It was like the walls didn't exist and a gale was blowing through the hall, catching every banner and piece of fabric in swirls and eddies. Sabah could at least appreciate Garment's attempt to conceal the all-encompassing nature of her control, even if she knew the illusion was only surface level. From that perspective, it at least looked less oppressive.
She nodded to Tetra. "It is." She could at least concede that. Garment wasn't making as pronounced a statement as she could have. And Parian still had the awareness of her own costume, and the outfits of her models. She often used her power to smooth out creases or fix folds, though Tetra hadn't needed much adjustment. The gown sat perfectly on the girl's slender frame like she had been born into it.
It helped remind her of the brighter parts of the event. The success of her show and how well it had gone across. That was enough to carry her through the absolutely stifling display of power that was being presented to them.
At least she hoped it would be enough.
Sabah took a breath before turning her attention back to Garment's display. The excessive show of power also enjoyed the benefit of a musical accompaniment. Allegedly it was an original composition by Garment's pet musician. More likely it was something dredged up from his past work and adapted for this purpose. It was a lot more reasonable than assuming that a piece that complex could have been thrown together in a couple of days.
The screens around the hall were showing the carefully framed shots of the man's playing. It was a recording, carefully edited and cut with footage from relief efforts and the organizations the event was funding. All put together with the polish that had become expected of Garment. Despite being pre recorded the music synced so well to Garment's display that it almost seemed spontaneous, like it wasn't just a live performance but something improvised on the spot. Sabah felt her stomach sink at the amount of talent on display, all freely offered up for Garment's aggrandizement.
"The music is very well done." Tetra added, once again pulling Sabah out of her thoughts. "It matches the rest of the performance nicely."
"Yes, I suppose so." Sabah admitted to the girl as she took another breath. She could at least admit that much, and it wasn't really fair to transfer her own frustrations to someone who probably worked very hard to meet Garment's demands. If anything he was probably a kindred spirit.
"Hey, your sister handles all this stuff for Garment, right? Have you met that guy?" Connie asked, gesturing to the screen currently showing the intense bow work and fingering that was producing the music of an entire string section from a single instrument. Normally her models would be a lot more formal around her, but Tetra's excitement changed the dynamic in a way she found that she didn't really mind.
Tetra shook her head. "I am not that involved in my sister's work, and there is a great deal of it. I think this is a fairly recent arrangement, but I do not know the details."
"I heard he's going to drop an album soon." Amber said. Tetra gave her a confused look. "I mean, he already has enough tracks online. People are talking about collaborations with other artists, and this is just promotional work. It's not like he's locked down to Garment, right?"
Sabah raised an eyebrow behind her mask and turned to watch Tetra's response while Connie whispered some joke to Amber about dexterous fingers, causing the other model to break into an unprofessional fit of giggles. "No. Well, at least I don't think there's anything official. Nothing that would limit future work, but I do not know for certain. That is all my sister's work, and she really just handles things on Garment's side."
Sabah relaxed slightly, looking up at the screens with what felt like fresh eyes. Honestly, just knowing that someone could be associated with Garment without falling into her web of control was a relief. Overarching obligations and influence had been rather serious concerns for her since she realized she wouldn't actually be directly competing with the woman.
That was surprisingly something of a bright spot in the situation. Sabah's concerns about Garment taking her place in the city's fashion scene had been put to rest, just not in the way she would have imagined. Because Garment wasn't really operating in the city's fashion scene. No, she had catapulted herself onto the national stage with this supposed act of charity. Sabah didn't need to worry about competing with Garment because with a single event Garment had made it clear they were not operating on anywhere close to the same level.
Oh, Garment would still have her studio. Her little local headquarters where she would no doubt maintain pretensions of doing personal work, but you only needed to look around the Regency Center or check the online reactions to see what a farce that would be. Garment was operating on a scale beyond any single city, possibly beyond any single aspect of the industry. Sabah didn't have to worry about defending her niche because with a single event Garment had moved herself beyond anything Sabah could have hoped to achieve.
That stung, but it was true. Even Sabah's most optimistic plans, assuming best growth of her popularity, the most positive reaction to the planned reveal of her identity, the launch of her own official line, the expansion of her presence in the fashion community, and the eventual construction of her own brand, had never included anything like this.
Because they couldn't. She knew that. Sabah could control her world as she had come to define it. Her space, her social circle, her work, but she would never be able to achieve something like this. She couldn't locate genius musicians to perform for her while promoting her clothing. She couldn't pull together an event rivaling a professional fashion show with three days' notice in a barely functional city. She couldn't seamlessly manage a dozen different organizations and have them fawning over her without even being able to speak to them.
The show had been a statement, and Sabah couldn't help but feel that she had somehow prompted it. Garment had been holding back. That was evident. It was something people had assumed after her masterful debut and opening press event. And if Sabah hadn't floated the idea of the Regency Center then Garment would probably still be holding back. Hosting small gatherings and gradually building her way up to… well, to this.
At the very least Sabah's prompting had managed to pull the band-aid off all at once. It stung, but it had cut the period of deception to a minimum. Maybe it was better that way. Better than spending weeks or months trying to keep up with a cape that she would never have been able to even approach. And now that insurmountable distance between her and Garment was the only security she had.
It was a rather insulting form of security. She was safe because she wasn't really worth the time it would take to crush her. A shark didn't bother itself with minnows. The prize wasn't worth the effort, even for someone as apparently effortless as Garment. Behind her mask she frowned at the rather ironic fashion in which she had obtained her 'security'.
"People are still discussing our portion of the show!" Tetra said as an alert buzzed from her phone. The notification banished some of the darker thoughts Sabah had been wrestling with. After their performance she had started trending independently from the rest of the event. Tetra had set up an alert for each mention, much to the amusement of the rest of her staff and the other models.
Still, the notice was a reminder. Even in the midst of all this, even with the scale that Garment worked at, people were still noticing her contribution. And Tetra was a big part of that, both in drawing attention and highlighting it for her team.
There was something incredibly endearing about the enthusiasm someone brought to their first brush with fame. Even the models seemed amused by the sight of Tetra's reaction.
"People always get like that for their first big break." Sky whispered to Amber before turning back to Tetra. "You should watch out for your family. My mom still has a scrapbook full of shots from my first catalog work."
"Mine too." Said Amber. "Department store ads, but still. Be ready for any way they could embarrass you."
Tetra shared a nod with the rest of the models as Sabah wondered about Delphine's response to the show. The way the normally stoic and composed woman had fretted when Tetra was getting ready was actually quite touching to see. It was just a shame they hadn't had more time together. That is, Delphine and Tetra. Delphine had congratulated her sister after her masterful performance, but her duties had called her away far too quickly. Off to manage the technical aspects of the event that were apparently beyond Garment's coordination skills. Or powers.
Because that coordination was evident. It should have been evident from Garment's first appearance, but nobody had been looking in that direction. There were theories, but most of them were relegated to the tinfoil hats of PHO. At least until this event had effectively confirmed them.
Parian felt slightly vindicated in that regard. Garment's masterful coordination of events was now clear to everyone who looked. With a broader perspective it was obvious that even the early steps that brought Garment here were as carefully directed as her control of the fabrics throughout the room.
Fabrics that now began to come apart. With a flourish and a change in the tempo of her performance, Garment was simultaneously dismantling and rebuilding hundreds of decorations. She was transforming the room with her power while harvesting more materials for her work. Streamers, threads, and pieces of cloth fell into motion with the flying ribbons to fill the air with color. And Garment was managing to even make that chaotic swarm of scraps look elegant. Once again, on reflection the reason was obvious.
Coordination. The same power that allowed Garment to manage so many moving pieces at once. The same power that let her pull together the event, manage all the factors, people, and organizations. The same power that had allowed her to rise so quickly. And that was the real secret. It was what allowed her to so casually overwhelm the world of fashion. Of course Garment was coming out ahead if she was using that level of thinker power to put together outfits and make style decisions.
It was another show of force, but once again, the scale of what she was up against was freeing to a certain degree. Sabah had worked hard, throwing herself into her studies and art. For two years she had chased the dream she set for herself. Her power allowed her to work faster and to a greater degree of precision, but she didn't have some thinker power making everything easy for her. Everyone who was so quick to extol Garment's wonderful insights and attention to detail didn't realize it was just a power at work.
Looking around at the results of that power, the way the decorations of the hall delicately shifted from somber tones to a more vibrant energy she had to wonder what it was like for Garment. That level of direction, of control, had to be overwhelming. Did she actually puppet things as precisely as it appeared, or was she just directing her abilities in broad strokes? What Sabah had assumed to be complete dominion over her environment could actually be the result of a power that controlled Garment, rather than the other way around.
Was that why she was so hard to understand? Why she couldn't speak? If it was a power presenting the impression of coordination and elegance, was it even an expression of whoever was behind it? People thought Garment was a master artist, but she might well be doing the equivalent of choosing pictures out of a catalog and letting her power do the rest. She might not be able to do anything but that.
It was all theory and guesswork. There were already people posing similar theories online, and they would probably gain more ground after this display. Hell, even the lighting of the room seemed to bend to her, with flashes of color that seemed to jump out from the swarm of material she was controlling. Possibly barely controlling, at least in a direct sense.
Garment was powerful. Everyone knew that for parahumans the highest levels of power came with a cost. You just needed to look at the Celestial Forge for that, and they were only the latest in a long chain of strong but damaged capes leading all the way back to Scion. It was clear that Garment had difficulties and now it was clear that Garment had power. The only question was if those difficulties scaled with the power on display.
"Look at the patterns in the fabric!" Tetra pointed out, once again drawing Sabah out of her own head and once more raising her spirits with her unbridled enthusiasm. The girl was focused on the other models, but it was like she had a sense of when Sabah was getting caught up in her own worries.
Some people had a good sense for that kind of thing. Reading the room and responding to other people's mood. Sabah appreciated it, though that was mostly because she had needed to deal with the extreme opposite of that property. Not a time in her life she liked dwelling on, or something enjoyed running into unexpectedly.
She put thoughts of that encounter out of her mind and turned to watch Tetra as she picked out shapes and patterns in Garment's hectic display. Just like how she may have been able to read Sabah's mood, she was able to discern elements of the performance that the other models and even Sabah had overlooked.
The swarm of swirling fabric moved like a three-dimensional mosaic. Most of the shapes formed were abstract, but there were more concrete impressions in the display. Tetra had noticed them first, but the repeating pattern eventually made it clear to even the most obtuse observer.
They were reflections of the show, of the city, and of the people who were involved in the event. There were even displays tied to her own work, flashes of color in the tones that she'd used for her dresses and movements of cloth that formed the outline of her own puppets. Sabah smiled as the crowd oohed and aahed at the reference to her work. Even as a small portion of the event, she had still held her own.
And maybe that was enough. Whatever the nature of Garment's power, whatever her challenges with it might be, it wasn't Sabah's problem. In the face of everything, she had survived and made it through the event unscathed. She hadn't been swallowed up or humiliated or demeaned. Even that last minute emergency had turned out to be a blessing.
Sabah smiled under her mask as she glanced towards Tetra and the rest of her models. Delphine's sister had been a natural on the stage. That gown had just come alive for her. It was like she had a natural instinct for how to move to cast the fabric in the perfect light. It was better than she could have possibly hoped when she offered the position to the girl. Honestly, it was probably the best showing of Parian's career, and the public seemed to agree.
While she wasn't monitoring things to the same level as Tetra, she'd had a chance to check the online reactions. Most of the attention was on Tetra's performance, but that was natural for the girl's debut, and the response had covered the entire performance, not just Tetra's prominent role.
When she arrived at the Regency Center, she had been worried her performance would clash with the tone of the rest of the event. Honestly, she had been worried that Garment had deliberately selected the tone to make sure her performance would clash, but that hadn't been the case. The crowd had been positively enthralled by the lighter nature of her performance.
Obviously the more dour elements of the event had been starting to wear on them. You could tell by the way the crowd was latching onto the more upbeat moments in the segments leading to hers. Parian was just lucky that she had been able to capitalize on that misstep on Garment's part. Honestly, it probably helped the mood leading into the auction as well.
She had also been right about the larger venue giving more attention to the cause that Garment was putting forward. Even when she was convinced this would end in disaster, she knew that ultimately it would help with the fundraising efforts. That no matter how things turned out, it would result in more people being helped, and she had been completely correct.
The prices that Garment's outfits had been auctioned for were beyond obscene, but they weren't the largest contributor to the funds being raised. You had the expected outpouring from local philanthropists, but also major contributions from outside the city. The work that Delphine had done to break down specific causes seemed to have made a significant difference. On the surface it was a way to screen against accusations of corruption, but actually presenting people with the exact places and organizations that their donations would help appeared to have made a considerable difference, at least when it came to opening their wallets.
Those donations were no doubt still flowing in as a considerable chunk of the country watched the live stream of Garment's show stopper. The dance of glimmering fabric swept around the room taking on different shapes as the lighting seemed to become more improbably favorable to the display with every pass. Each of those passes also saw small portions of the fabric integrated into Garment's dress, slowly transforming the somewhat simple and somber outfit into something more colorful and lively.
Each pass also left threads and scraps of cloth floating in the air behind Garment. It seemed to be an abstract arrangement of color until after the fourth or fifth pass, with that musical accompaniment building to a manic pace, A form and structure began to take shape as the assembled pieces began to weave themselves together into a tapestry.
It was an absolutely ridiculous construction. The collection of fabric towered over Garment as she directed its construction with easy and possibly unthinking grace. It was more like the backdrop of a stage play than any simple work of craftsmanship. Sabah was just barely able to follow the construction, the way huge spans of thread and cloth were bound together. It was weaving, but weaving on a scale that was impossible to replicate. Even for someone like her, it would have been a nightmare to try to accomplish something like that without turning it into a complete mess.
What formed behind Garment was not a mess. It was a mural, a detailed image woven from the decorations that had carried such a somber tone for the event. Decorations that now seemed more vibrant after Garment's actions had torn apart and rebuilt them, just like she had with her own dress. Both sides of that transformation, grimness and hope, seemed to be present in the tapestry.
As the image fully took shape the impact of what Garment had been working towards settled across the crowd. For the tapestry itself, you could probably say it was a woven picture of Brockton Bay, though a metaphorical one. There were abstract symbols mixed with images so crisp they could have been taken from photographs.
She recognized elements of the Docks, Boardwalk, Downtown, the University, and even the city's outskirts. Everything that made up the city, in every style of the city's history. There were clear maritime influences, but also pieces of early twentieth century architecture, industrial elements, and even the gleaming skyscrapers of Downtown and futuristic aesthetic of the Protectorate.
But there were other styles mixed in, ones not intrinsic to the city's history. At least not beyond its recent history. Influences from the dozen Asian communities throughout the city. Not as the single mass that had been the ABB, but each with their own style and character. And more than that, she could recognize additional elements speaking to the full breath of the city's people. Sometimes it was just a symbol or the shape of a building, but it seemed everything was included. Even a reference that seemed to speak specifically to Arab immigrants.
That might have set her on high alert, but it was only one piece of the whole. A tapestry that held countless elements in perfect balance. Everything that made the city what it was in both its past and present, gathered around the gleaming image of the bay on a clear day. Truly gleaming. Some subtle manipulation of the fabric had caused the woven surface of the water to become iridescent, catching the light in a way that seemed disturbingly real.
As a message, it was overly simplistic and sappy. A call for unity wrapped in some rather shallow symbolism about moving past grief and sorrow. Symbolism that was made doubly shallow by the fact that it was being decreed on high. A powerful cape presenting to rich and powerful people about how the rest of the city should behave. She couldn't imagine this going over well.
But when Garment wove the last piece into place at the final crescendo of the violin player, the crowd went wild. More than the crowd. The applause spread to the staff and volunteers. The superficial message seemed to have resonated with them, or they were just caught up in the moment.
Sabah clapped along with the rest of the crowd, watching as cameras panned across, capturing reactions. She was familiar enough with how that worked to be careful of her reaction at any key moments. Broadcasters loved reactions from capes and public figures.
She became slightly more animated as a camera panned past her. It slowed as it moved over her team, pausing on Tetra and the rest of the models. Sabah smiled at that. Tetra's excitement was infectious and had bled over to the other models. They were smiling widely and joining in the celebration, showing off her work as they did. The authentic cheer didn't fade as the camera moved past onto other members of the crowd, but Sabah enjoyed a quiet satisfaction at the additional publicity.
Not as much as Garment, but it was very, very clear that was beyond anyone's reach. Garment could spiral off to unknown heights, leaving Parian where she was. No worse off, and honestly even a little better. She had been lucky there.
There were a thousand ways things could have gone wrong, both with her own performance and with the event in general, but she had made it through. She hadn't damaged her brand or embarrassed herself and she hadn't put herself under Garment's thumb to accomplish that. With Garment's attention directed to larger things Parian might actually have a chance to consolidate her gains.
Like signing Tetra as a model. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but one that had paid off tremendously. Obviously, any sister of Delphine Mertens would be stunning and graceful. That was definitely true, though Tetra had an unquestionably distinct character from her sister. It wasn't something Sabah really had experience with, being an only child.
Her earlier encounter drew thoughts of her first years in college. Jozef had mentioned having sisters, but unlike Delphine and Tetra, he didn't seem to appreciate them. It wasn't that he complained about them, but it was always like he was describing some kind of weight he had to bear. An attitude made worse by the fact that he seemed to assume people would understand what he meant. And that was made worse by the fact that other students typically seemed to, much to her confusion.
Sabah felt a wave of frustration as a surge of bad memories welled up in her mind. All the time that year when she had to deal with Jozef. Even with the contrast to Tetra and Delphine, it wasn't something she liked to think about. And it was a contrast. No matter what Jozef had thought about his family, they were clearly good for him. He had been easier to deal with whenever he spent time at home. In the wake of holidays or long weekends he would be more reserved and less talkative, but that would always fade and she'd have to deal with him again.
She clenched and unclenched her hand as she worked to put those thoughts to rest. She didn't need to be dragged back to that horrible part of her life. It was obvious that Delphine and Tetra had a proper sibling relationship with each other. Considering how Delphine typically presented herself as completely unflappable, seeing her fret and worry while Tetra was getting changed was really quite sweet.
Sabah really did need to capitalize on the excitement of Tetra's debut. Probably put out some content about the dress and her related items. Maybe she could book Tetra for a proper photo shoot. Delphine would almost certainly represent her and it would be nice to work with her on a project that didn't involve Garment.
Speaking of which, the applause was dying down as Garment finally finished drinking in the acclaim and showing off her modified dress. Uppercrust took the stage once again, thanking everyone who attended and supported the event and citing the total of funds raised. He broke them down by cause supported, rather than by donor or source, meaning the income from Garment's auction was effectively mixed into the total rather than specifically cited. He finished by soliciting for donations a final time, directing viewers to the event's site which would stay active through the recovery to help direct people to local causes.
And with that the event was over. Well, the structured portion was over. There were still interviews from the media team, final donations being offered by guests, pictures with capes or Garment's monstrously oversized tapestry, but generally there was a sense of finality. Guests who were on a tight schedule made their way to the exit, accepting thanks from event staff and organizers before leaving to make their final statements to the reporters waiting outside. Those on a less pressing timetable milled around, but gradually bled out of the hall as things firmly wound down.
Parian committed herself to wait until the bulk of the guests and media attention had faded. Normally lingering at the end of a show would have been awkward and frustrating for her models, but once again, Tetra was able to shift the tone. She eagerly exchanged greetings with both guests and staff as the hall slowly emptied, graciously accepting compliments on both her dress and her performance in the show.
Finally, the room had cleared enough for her to deal with her team. There were still occasional clusters of activity, mostly centered around the few remaining capes or the massive tapestry that Garment had left towering over the hall. It made a very nice photo opportunity, but she couldn't imagine how they were going to manage something that size or what was supposed to happen to it in the wake of the show.
But that wasn't her problem. She slipped backstage with her models trailing behind her. Out of the public eye their posture relaxed, and they hurried towards the changing rooms. Only Tetra remained in good spirits as she followed after them, but that girl was a font of energy that showed no sign of stopping.
Personally, Sabah was feeling more like Sky, Connie, and Amber. Her power minimized the weight and burden of her costume and precise control of the fabric allowed her to circulate air, keeping herself from overheating, but it had still been a grueling and stressful show. She was looking forward to putting it behind her and getting off her feet, even if that was a ways off.
"Excuse me, Prarian?" A young volunteer asked as she cautiously approached. The girl was easily identified by the fitted peacoat she was wearing that had served as a staff uniform for the event.
"Yes?" She said, turning to face the volunteer. The girl was only slightly taller than her and looked to be in her early twenties at most.
"Refreshments have been provided for the event organizers in one of the back rooms. I was asked to relay an invitation." She said, speaking quickly. "Provided you're not too busy."
Parian paused. Event organizers would certainly include Garment, but probably Delphine as well. And the rest of the organizers probably included key figures from the local charity scene. As tired as Sabah was, it wasn't the kind of opportunity she should pass up. Even if it was mostly people crashing and recharging after a very hectic production, it would still present an opportunity to network.
"Thank you. I believe I can attend, providing… Max?" She said, turning to the default head of her staff.
"I've got it." The heavily pierced girl assured her. "Dresses packed and fabric to the loading dock."
Parian nodded. "I'll be there later to help load the vans." And to slip out herself. She may have been able to sneak into costume during the chaos leading up to the start of the show, but she couldn't risk changing until she got back to her atelier.
"I'll take care of it, but no rush." Max said. "Traffic is apparently a nightmare. We might be looking at a late pickup."
She nodded again. "Keep me posted." She said before turning to follow the volunteer. She hoped things wouldn't drag on too long, but at least she'd have a chance to relax and maybe build some connections during the delay.
Which was how Sabah found herself ushered to the not-quite afterparty for the event. There wasn't the sense that she was heading into a celebratory atmosphere so much as being given the opportunity to collapse in a mostly dignified fashion while the work of packing up the event was conducted out in the main hall.
She was led through the back rooms of the Regency Center, an area she knew reasonably well by this point. The blonde volunteer guided her to what she remembered as a quiet sitting room that had served as both a meeting area and green room in the past. She nodded thanks to the girl before stepping into the room and surveying the other occupants.
As expected, Garment was present, occupying an armchair on the far wall. Parian had expected that, but she hadn't expected Uppercrust. The man was seated next to Garment in his elaborate costume with his cane laid across his lap. Apparently, the man had decided to take time from his schedule for a social call after the event. Parian watched as the leader of the New York Elite and one of the richest and most dangerous men in the country sat casually chatting with someone who couldn't verbally respond to him, acting as if it was the most natural conversation in the world.
She forced herself into the room against every instinct to the contrary. She never wanted anything to do with the Elite, but here they were. Worse, this wasn't some recruiter or low level cape looking to pump up his numbers. It was Uppercrust, the leader of the largest and most legitimate branch of the organization who held more sway than any of the other directors.
Moving closer she mutely nodded a greeting at the man, noting another point of concern. She had heard the rumors about his heath, but up close she could see there was definitely something wrong. He was clearly pushing himself hard and he looked like he was running on about three hours of sleep. He had covered for it well on stage, but up close and in a casual atmosphere she could see how delicate his condition was.
Just recognizing that felt like she had been handed incredibly dangerous information. Instantly her mind spun up with concerns. The way the Elite dealt with rogues and their tactics when moving into a new city were very well known. Delphine had offered help if anything was pressed, but was that really something she could rely on in the face of the Elite? Was Uppercrust deliberately letting her see him in this condition to somehow entrap her? Cause her to know too much?
Thankfully, he didn't focus on her to any worrying degree. A simple greeting and congratulation for the success of her show, then he was back to his one sided conversation with Garment. If the two of them ended up occupying each other's attention Sabah couldn't be happier.
Instead she turned to greet the other occupants of the room. Sharing a room with a man who was basically a national power unto himself was nearly enough to overwhelm the significance of the other guests. Sabah found a collection of individuals who were probably unused to being overlooked, but given the situation they seemed to understand.
Parian exchanged polite greetings with an Asian woman in a designer suit as she sank into one of the waiting armchairs. In any other case she would have found Suzan Yoon to be an overwhelming presence. The woman practically ran the Brockton Charity Association and orchestrated a dozen major events each year on top of her involvement with pretty much every local organization of note. Given her experience in Brockton Bay, she was completely inured to working with capes and had shown Parian firsthand what a force she could be.
In the chair on the other side of Suzan Yoon was a fashion correspondent Parian was thoroughly familiar with. Andrea Charlton was a severe faced woman twice Sabah's age who, despite being a native of Brockton Bay, had industry contacts that extended from New York to Paris. The woman was responsible for some of the most scathing reviews of her work, particularly from when she was first trying to break into the industry.
"My congratulations on your performance." Andrea said coolly. "For a familiar production I must say it came together exceptionally well." Parian could feel the evaluation in the woman's gaze. "Perhaps a promising sign for your next collection?"
"Thank you." She said, putting forward as much confidence as possible. "I'll be arranging a formal shoot, if you're interested…?"
The writer inclined her head slightly. "My assistant will be in touch." She said before turning her attention to the 'conversation' between Garment and Uppercrust.
Sabah used the opportunity to evaluate the other occupants of the room. Thankfully, no one on the level of Uppercrust or even Andrea Charlton, but still faces to take note of. There was Jennifer Marshall, the Regency Center's event organizer, Oliver Cook, the production head for WKMP-6 news, someone whose name she didn't know but recognized from the Protectorate's PR team, and finally a tiny but stern looking elderly woman seated near the door wearing a lace shawl over one of the coats Garment had gifted to the volunteers.
That was clearly an outlier and not someone she would have expected. Somehow, Sabah had the sense that that woman actually resented being confined to the room. She quickly gestured to the volunteer who had led Sabah in before pestering her with questions and instructions for the rest of the volunteer workforce.
Uppercrust's conversation paused and he smiled as he watched the exchange. When the elderly woman had finished grilling the girl on the state of the event she dismissed her with a glance, causing the young volunteer to scurry off with her orders.
"You are quite fortunate to have such a talented and well-coordinated set of volunteers." He said, turning back to Garment.
Garment gesticulated in response while the older woman only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. Uppercrust returned the nod from across the room, probably out of amusement at the presumed head of a volunteer force putting herself on the same level of a cape like Uppercrust.
"It has been a pleasure to work with the volunteers for this event." Jennifer Marshall said, extending the same nod to both Garment and the elderly woman. "Usually it's a significant challenge to coordinate a workforce half this size." The woman turned towards her. "Clearly, Parian's recommendation was well placed."
"I'm happy I could help." She said quickly, searching for any hint of derision or accusation in the event organizer's tone or expression. She didn't detect any, but there seemed to be a knowing look in the woman's eyes. "Though the volunteer staff really did go above and beyond." She added, as a peace offering.
And then her mind jumped back to the one member of the volunteer staff she had personally met and she was suddenly feeling a great deal less charitable. Fortunately, those thoughts were largely displaced by the elegant arrival of Delphine Mertens.
Delphine entered the room with her usual grace with no sign of the stress of running the event. She looked as fresh as if she had just woken up without a hair out of place. The entire room came alive at her arrival, quite understandably, as the woman nodded to each of them in turn.
Delphine's elegant arrival was sharply undercut by the figure that followed after her. A bulk that couldn't be fully made out filled the hall, having to duck down to look through the door. It was one of the capes who had been attending the event, the Case 53. She towered behind Delphine's slight frame in an image of contrast that the woman seemed to be acutely aware of. She paused at the entrance to the door, peering under the frame and only entering when Delphine gently beckoned her forward.
The Case 53 had to hunch down almost comically to fit under the doorframe. As she did Parian could see the way the skin on one side of her face was overly thick and distorted. The woman had partially hidden it with her hair, but that did nothing for her pounced underbite or the overall asymmetry of her body.
"Um, hello." The towering woman greeted the room. Her voice was coarse and extremely low, even with her speaking in a near whisper. "I had a chance to meet Garment earlier, but we were interrupted." She explained numbly. "I just wanted to…" She trailed off and seemed to be trying to sink into herself, which was when Delphine stepped forward.
"Gully wished to meet in person to express her thanks for the invitation and offer congratulations on the success of the event." She said sweetly. The cape, Gully, nodded numbly behind her.
"I didn't mean to interrupt." Gully said. "I mean, Ms. Mertens said you were available…"
Garment gestured around her, as if puzzled at the idea that someone would assume she was unavailable just because she was surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the city and one of the most powerful people in the country.
"I could come back later, or maybe meet another time…" She added, almost hopefully.
"No, please join us." Uppercrust said in a friendly tone. "With your own contributions to the city's recovery I would not dream of turning you away."
Gully looked at the man and blinked. "You know about that?" She asked blankly.
An earnest smile crossed Uppercrust's tired face. "My dear, without your assistance in opening roads my schedule would be in absolute shambles and I would not be afforded the opportunity to enjoy this lovely reception. The Fire Service is right to sing your praises and I only regret that your contributions are not more well known."
Gully winced slightly at that, but seemed flattered all the same. "There were a lot of people helping out. I'm just doing what I can."
She seemed slightly reserved and there was an element to Uppercrust's expression that suggested… something. Sabah didn't know what it could be. Probably some cape thing external to the city. The possibility of additional layers of meaning to the exchanges just made her feel even more out of her depth.
At least Delphine was here. She smiled and nodded to Parian as she took a seat between her and Garment. Gully looked around with a blank expression before spotting a couch against the wall. It was out of the way and designed for at least three people. She seemed uncertain, but at Uppercrust's prompting she carefully took a seat, being sure to lower herself gently and spread her weight as widely as possible. Even so the couch creaked beneath her.
"Indeed, the outpouring of support has been a credit to this city." Uppercrust said. "I can't recall another city bouncing back so quickly from a near catastrophe."
"I don't know about bouncing back." Gully said softly. Her discomfort seemed to be more related to the situation in general rather than from the fact that she was speaking with a man like Uppercrust. "Things are bad out there. People are hurting and there's still a lot of work to do." She quickly turned to Garment. "Not to say… I'm sure this will help, it's just…"
Garment signaled what might have been understanding while Uppercrust nodded. "I didn't mean to imply anything of the kind. Damage of this magnitude will never fully heal, but that doesn't undercut what has been accomplished in the wake of such a disaster."
Gully nodded, being careful to avoid shifting her body. Even so, the couch creaked under her weight. The rest of the room had fallen silent, focusing entirely on her exchange with Uppercrust. "With the team from Chicago they should be able to clear the worst of the debris in short order." She paused and turned to the rest of the room, clearly not recognizing any of the local individuals. "Um, that's actually a major expense after disasters, and one people don't really account for. A lot of times that can cost so much that people walk away, rather than rebuild."
"Yes, an unfortunate dynamic. I remember…" The man trailed off, his expression turning slightly dark. Disasters, or the prevention of them were the man's stock and trade. He had become so vital to civic defense that both his actions and those of the Elite were overlooked in all but the most severe cases. No doubt he was well familiar with this kind of situation and how things typically played out.
He shook his head and turned from Gully to the rest of the group. "On the subject of rebuilding, I have recently learned one of my colleagues is investigating the possibility of opening an entertainment venue in the city." He announced with a smile. "The first of what may be a wider range of investments."
There was a ripple of excited curiosity through the room that shocked Parian, though she did her best not to show it. Uppercrust had just announced a member of the Elite setting up a permanent presence in the city and they were treating it like it was a bit of idle gossip.
"An entertainment venue?" Jennifer Marshall asked. As the Regency Center's event organizer she would have the best understanding of what this meant, but even she seemed blind to the encroachment of the Elite into the city. "I'm surprised that would be an attractive prospect for someone on your level. Brockton Bay doesn't exactly have a shortage of bars or nightclubs." She said, as if the only concern to Uppercrust's announcement was the viability of the business case.
"Indeed." Uppercrust said slyly. "But to my knowledge there are precious few venues that cater to alternate lifestyles."
Shocked silence filled the room as the implications of his statement hit everyone like a truck. Well, everyone except Garment, who seemed completely unmoved by the announcement, and Delphine, who maintained her usual professionalism. Before anyone could ask the obvious question, Uppercrust pressed on.
"I understand the obstacles such endeavors would have faced in the past." He said, as if the Empire was a minor concern. Which, to someone with the resources of the Elite, they may well have been. "Fortunately, recent concessions have guaranteed the security and independence of such a venture from the forces who would have previously opposed it. Given the backing of such assurance, it presents a rather wide range of investment opportunities."
Wide range. The words echoed in Parian's head. Meaning this wasn't a one-off venture by a single member of the Elite. Uppercrust had somehow secured an agreement with the Empire allowing the Elite to freely operate. An agreement that presumably included their customers, meaning they would have a captive audience.
The Elite were going to come to Brockton Bay, and they were going to stay, and there was nothing Parian could do about it. At best she might be able to avoid them for a time, but she knew how these stories went. How they expanded and what happened to Rogues who pushed back. Just when she had come to terms with Garment she found herself faced with a much older fear, one of her first concerns after becoming a cape. Trapped between overbearing organizations with the Elite pressing in and her only recourse being the Protectorate, or Garment.
She felt her breath grow shallow as her body tensed and she pulled into herself. The implications of such a catastrophic decree delivered so casually shook her in a way she couldn't put into words.
"But of course, such places are not for everyone."
Uppercrust's voice drew Parian out of her panic and she looked up to find the rest of the room looking at her. Quickly she forced herself to relax and steadied the trembling in her limbs, but the expressions being directed towards her weren't ones of embarrassment or concern. Most of the room was looking at her with distaste.
It took her a moment to put things together. To figure out how her reaction must have looked from the outside.
"Wait, I don't-" She tried, but Uppercrust waved her off with a tired and slightly disappointed expression.
"It's fine. I understand that is not a topic everyone is comfortable discussing." He said, glancing away from her. Parian spun back and forth between the various disapproving expressions directed towards her. The one from the older woman was particularly cutting.
Even Delphine, though that seemed more confused than upset. It was a single spark of hope in the terrible misunderstanding that Uppercrust's announcement had created. If she could explain… if she could get a chance to explain… but this wasn't the time. Faced with the choice between a mistaken impression from the elite of Brockton Bay or revealing personal details to one of the leaders of the Elite, she knew what her choice had to be.
"Isn't a Parian a German Doll?" Oliver Cook whispered the question to Jennifer Marshall without much attempt at subtlety. Parian bristled under her mask and found herself dearly wishing she could direct her current expression at the man.
"On a brighter note, I would like to commend everyone for pulling together such a successful event." Uppercrust said, offering a mock toast with the bottle of sparkling water in his hand. The gesture was returned by most of the room, though Parian's mask also prevented her from partaking in the provided refreshments. "Particularly the management of the venue." He added, directing his attention to Jenifer Marshall.
"Thank you, but while I wish we could take credit, we were as impressed as anyone by how well things were pulled together." She replied.
"Yes, that was quite the impressive display. Such a remarkable showing of coordination across so many disparate elements." Uppercrust said, turning back to Garment.
Parian felt herself tense once again as Garment made what she probably believed was a demure and dismissive gesture, but notably not a denial. Because there wasn't much point in a denial anymore. Garment's coordination power was self-evident. It was just a question of scale.
Of course, with how much the Protectorate fawned over her, that incredibly concerning thinker power was probably going to be soft-balled with a low rating and an overly flower description of its effect when they finally got around to confirming it. She glanced at the Protectorate PR officer whose name she still could not recall. He was nodding along with a knowing smile on his face, basically confirming Parian's suspicions.
"Not to suggest that this was in any way a solo effort." Uppercrust said as he turned back to the group, earning a few amused smiles.
"I think the showing of volunteers makes that quite evident." Suzan Yoon said with a note of pride in her voice. The older woman by the door sat slightly straighter at that statement.
Delphine nodded to her. "There were many individuals who distinguished themselves during both the preparation and operation of the event." She looked down at a tablet in her lap. "Often to the degree that personal recommendations would be warranted."
Jennifer Marshall smiled in response. "Normally we don't use events like this to scout talent, but I must say, I have been quite impressed."
"Will you be retaining any of the volunteers?" Suzan Yoon asked.
"There have been some inquiries." Jennifer Marshall replied. "Given the state of the city and what that has done to employment…" She shook her head. "The Center wasn't specifically looking for new hires, but I believe we can be open to part time arrangements, given the talent that has been displayed."
It struck Parian that assessment was probably due to Garment's influence rather than some untapped potential in the people who had signed up. That seemed to be a minority position in the room as everyone else just nodded along.
Jennifer Marshall smiled at Garment. "And given the attention we've received, we're looking at a rather full schedule for the remainder of the year. We might need to expand our full-time staff to manage things."
Garment made some incomprehensible gestures that were probably intended to be demure while the full weight of the situation sank in for Parian. A booked out Regency Center that would certainly want to involve Garment as much as possible in any future events to benefit from her poorly defined coordination power. Expanded staffing from the people Garment had brought in for her own show, hand picked and overly loyal to Garment for the opportunity and support. Factors combining to allow her to leverage her abilities and prestige further through involvement at every future event.
It was a reality that Parian was going to have to live with. She had hoped that Garment would simply move on. Jet set off to New York or Los Angeles, leaving Brockton Bay behind. Leaving Parian to do what she could in the city. But no, she was going to be building her empire with the foundation she had laid at this event. It might be beyond Parian's reach, but it seemed she would still be living in Garment's shadow.
And she was going to be retaining staff from her volunteers. Well, the Regency Center was going to be, and possibly some of the other organizations that had helped with the event. That thought worried Sabah, but they were talking about people displaced by the attacks looking for what work they could get. The concern didn't vanish, but she could assure herself that any long term placements probably wouldn't involve the person she regrettably had to deal with out on the show floor.
The conversation shifted to a general opportunity from everyone to praise the work of the volunteers, though to Parian it sounded more like people were taking the opportunity to show how closely they had been involved with the process of setting up the event and the general labor of the preparations.
Suzan Yoon was quite proud of her daughter for her volunteer work at the event, though her account came off a little self-satisfied. She had worked on the hall's decorations, something that Andrea Charlton complimented, both to Garment and the team that put her 'vision' into place.
Jennifer Marshall took a moment to commend the security team, citing them as some of the best she had ever worked with. Sabah had seen them, but aside from that cat the group would have looked more at home as bouncers for a dive bar. Given the hectic nature of the event, that was probably an asset, but Sabah couldn't imagine them becoming fixtures at the Regency Center.
And so things progressed. Ostensibly commending the volunteer staff, but mostly taken as an opportunity to highlight personal contributions or press for details on how some specific aspect of the event was accomplished in such an improbably short time. Delphine had answers to some of the questions, but a good portion of them defaulted to Garment and her vague hand gestures.
And Parian actually believed that was how things would progress. Aside from a few high tension moments and missteps over concerns that she was still dealing with, the meeting seemed to be taking the route she had largely expected. A chance to decompress for people who had witnessed perhaps the most rushed and aggressively coordinated charity event in history and were basking in amazement at the fact that nothing had gone wrong.
And then things went wrong.
It was just a small thing at first, a seemingly innocent statement. Oliver Cook from WKMP-6 talking about the broadcast, mostly focusing on how well things had gone on their end, but with the off hand statement to make it seem like he was being charitable.
"Though you had a hell of a technical team here." He said offhandedly. "My head technician can't praise them enough. If we're talking job offers, I might just have to contact you." He said to Delphine and Garment. For some reason, Gully smiled at his statement, though it didn't do her face any favors and the woman quickly schooled her expression.
Sabah had a worrying suspicion as to who they were talking about. A suspicion that she could deal with. Even if it was true, it wasn't like it was likely to go anywhere.
And then Uppercrust looked up with an intrigued expression on his face.
"Really?" He asked. "I've heard the same from one of my own staff." He said with a smile that made a pit open in Parian's stomach. "If we're talking about the same young man then I'm sorry to inform you that an offer has already been extended."
Oliver Cook laughed in response as Parian felt her pulse thudding in her head. She knew. She knew who they were talking about. Even as Oliver joked about not being able to beat an offer from the Elite, she knew they were talking about Jozef.
The Elite. Jozef in the Elite. It was like a nightmare. The Elite on its own was a nightmare. They were coming to the city, opening businesses that were somehow sheltered from the Empire, which would only lead to more of them arriving. She knew how that would go. She'd heard enough accounts. The polite offers that became progressively less polite until they stopped being offered. A situation that would advance to the point where you couldn't even cut ties and leave. Where even giving up everything you had built, all the security you had struggled to create, wouldn't be enough to hold them back. A situation where you had absolutely no choice.
And Jozef was going to be part of them. She couldn't even doubt that. Someone that close to graduation with an offer from a group that powerful, under a tinker as famous as Uppercrust, and with operations starting in the same city? There wasn't even a question. Any graduate would jump at the chance.
Most of the people in the engineering course had dreamed about joining the PRT for the chance to work with heroes and tinker tech. Those jobs were rare to the point of being borderline impossible to obtain, but the Elite could be a reasonable substitute. Especially for people who didn't care about the actions of the group. Really she couldn't see Jozef turning them down on moral grounds.
He was going to join and the Elite were going to come for her. It was going to be exactly like her second year of college, only with a national spanning criminal organization backing him rather than just the rest of their engineering class.
"You know, I imagine there'll be plenty of interest in how this came together so well." Oliver Cook said, oblivious to Parian's growing panic. "We would be interested in doing some segments on the people behind the event, the roles they played and how they were involved." He smiled at the rest of the group. "It might give some more exposure to people looking for employment opportunities."
"Puff pieces." Andrea Charlton said while tapping her chin. "A little gauche, but I'm sure a talented production team could dress up the endeavor."
She turned to Garment rather than Oliver Cook. If the production head saw the oversight as a slight he didn't comment on it. In fact, he seemed even more excited about having Garment involved. And she seemed equally excited.
They were talking about one of Garment's productions. Those videos where she could somehow dress up any topic into a captivating subject. And it was going to be directed at the volunteers, their contributions and work for the events. Jozef's contributions and work for the event.
Jozef. Someone she had managed to avoid even thinking about was now not only forced back in her life but somehow sitting at a point between Garment and the Elite. She had thought she had moved past this. Even seeing him again, even with him trying to dismiss and downplay what happened, she had held her own. Moved on and come out ahead.
And now all that was crashing down. What was she supposed to do? What could she do? She had to do something. She couldn't just sit here and let everything happen all over again. She could barely breathe. Her power stirred in her dress, but no further. The space around her seemed to be closing in. She had to do something. She had to… She had to…
"Parian?" Delphine's sweet voice cut through her panic. She looked up, her breathing falling back under control. "Is something wrong?" The woman asked, her face a picture of concern.
"Well, actually…" Parian steadied herself and sat up in her chair. "I'm sorry to bring down the mood, but unfortunately one of my employees had a bad run in with one of the event's volunteers."
The entire room rounded on her, the jovial atmosphere draining away instantly. "I'm sorry to hear that." Jennifer Marshall said with palpable concern. The kind of concern born from someone who needed to evaluate potential liability issues. "What happened?"
Parian swallowed and did her best to steady her voice. "Before the start of the event she had an encounter on the show floor with a boy named Jozef Duris."
"An encounter?" Jennifer Marshall asked in a worried voice. The entire room was following their conversation. She noticed recognition at the name from Oliver Cook and Uppercrust, and for some reason Gully was unusually focused on her. "Anything serious? I didn't read any reports…"
She turned to Delphine who shook her head. "No incidents were reported. Whatever happened, it didn't come to the attention of security and wasn't brought forward by any of the other staff members."
Parian swallowed again. "I'm not sure of the details of the confrontation." She lied. "But my employee was affected quite badly." That at least was honest. "I would just be careful about further work with him."
Uppercrust nodded slowly. "Your caution is noted, but if this incident is as serious as it might seem it should be investigated fully."
"No." Parian said. "I wouldn't want to put that on my employee. It was just a concern I felt I should share."
"We appreciate that, but I have to agree with Uppercrust." Jennifer Marshall said. "Particularly now that we've been informed, it behooves us to see things through."
"I'm not sure that would be possible." Parian replied in her best attempt at deflection.
"Why is that?" Suzan Yoon asked sternly. Parian was reminded of the resources of the Brockton Charity Association and how Suzan Yoon had a tendency to wield them with an exceptionally deft hand.
She sat there with the eyes of everyone in the room on her as she desperately grasped for some impossible solution that would perfectly resolve this problem that had been created for her. That would let things end with her warning without having to drag everything else into the light.
Suddenly, a gravelly voice cut through the silence. Gully said a single word that nearly made Parian's heart stop.
"Sabah."
She slowly turned towards where the massive Case 53 was sitting, her mask concealing the expression of complete shock from the rest of the room. She couldn't think, couldn't even breathe as she waited for the woman's next word.
Gully just smiled, apparently taking her reaction as confirmation. "That's who it was, right? Sabah?" It wasn't really a question, not at this point. Gully might have been smug in having her suspicions confirmed, but the rest of the group wasn't willing to let things go.
"I'm sorry, who is Sabah?" Uppercrust asked.
"A member of Parian's team and a former classmate of Jozef Duris. Who I also met before the show." She said, turning from Parian to face the rest of the group. The couch under her creaked with each movement. "He was exceptionally polite and helpful. A credit to the volunteer staff." She said, eyeing Parian.
"I see. And how does Sabah enter into things?" Uppercrust asked.
"She and Jozef ran into each other on the show floor. They had a brief discussion about their time in college and then Sabah left." Gully said. Parian felt her blood rise at the woman's words, both for the dismissive tone and the fact that Jozen had apparently relayed their encounter to a cape in such vague and banal terms.
"I don't know what he told you about the incident…" She began, but Gully cut her off.
"He didn't tell me anything." She said sharply. With her low voice it was like a thunderclap in the room. "A friend of mine saw the exchange."
"A friend?" She asked skeptically.
"Yes." Gully said, narrowing her eyes before turning to the rest of the room. "It wasn't exactly a pleasant reunion for either of them, but nothing like what was implied."
Parian could see visible relief on Jennifer Marshall while Suzan Yoon just scoffed. "School drama." She muttered causing a ripple of amusement to spread through the group.
"You think this friend is a reliable source?" Parian asked Gully, trying not to sound desperate.
"Yes." The woman said simply. There was so much confidence in her voice that Parian didn't dare challenge it. She was absolutely certain that if pushed it would end in her favor. She cleared her throat and grasped for a new tactic.
"Um, Sabah also mentioned that he was bothering one of the younger volunteers." She said. It felt uncomfortable to cite herself in the third person, but at least the dismissive attitude of the group faded away. "A girl named Aisha."
"Well, that is serious." Uppercrust said. "And perhaps should have been raised first." Parian wilted slightly behind your mask. "I trust you will look into this properly?" He asked Delphine, but the woman had already taken out her phone and raised it to her ear. After a few seconds the call connected.
"Hello Aisha." She said as the rest of the room watched. "Could you come to the green sitting room? No, we just have some questions. Thank you." She hung up the call and turned to the rest of the group. "She'll be here shortly."
"You're familiar with her?" Uppercrust asked. Delphine nodded.
"While the arrangements are still being made, Aisha is a student employee of Garment's and a quite capable assistant for her age." She explained. Parian noticed nods from some of the other members of the group, particularly Andrea Charlton. She sat numbly as knowing looks were shared, her unease growing with every second.
Finally the door to the room opened revealing Aisha. On closer inspection Sabah could see the girl had a young face, but was already taller than her. The elegance of her dress, black with white trim, clearly Garment's work, obscured her exact age and role in the show, but from the reactions of the rest of the group and the girl's ease with the situation it was clear she had misinterpreted it. Parian clenched her jaw as things continued to spiral downward for her.
"Hey." She said, greeting Delphine casually. "What can I help with?"
"Well, Aisha?" Uppercrust asked. The girl nodded. "I do recognize you from the show, though I don't believe we were introduced."
"Yeah, it got crazy out there." She said, reaching up to flip back a purple dyed lock of hair. It caused a hair ornament to glitter in the light of the room, making the rhinestones almost look like they might actually be diamonds. "No worries though." She looked around, then seemed to pick up the tension beneath the surface of the gathering. "Or maybe not. What's going on?"
"Some concerns have been raised that we would like to address." Uppercrust said, with Jennifer Marshall and Suzan Yoon nodding along. "Did you have an encounter with a man by the name of Jozef Duris?"
"Joe?" She asked. "Yeah, I saw him when he was doing a cable check."
"Did anything happen?" Suzan Yoon asked sternly.
"Well, I said hi, then some girl he knew from college showed up." The girl shrugged. "It was kind of awkward. I bailed as soon as I could."
"You were acquainted with the man?" Jennifer Marshall asked.
"Well, yeah. He's one of my dad's boxing students. Plus he's been helping out at the gym since everything started going to hell." She looked around.
Attention in the room slowly shifted towards the old woman by the door. For some reason Sabah couldn't fathom the woman was glaring daggers directly at her. Uppercrust raised an eyebrow at the woman and she broke off her death glare to give the man a single nod. There was something deeply concerning about how quiet the woman was being. Sabah very much doubted it was because she didn't have anything to say. If anything, the opposite seemed more likely.
"So there are no problems with him?" Jennifer Marshall asked. "He wasn't bothering you?"
"Please, Joe?" She asked. "No. No problems."
"Thank you, Aisha." Delphine said. "Sorry for bothering you."
The girl nodded, then turned to leave. In the girl's wake the mood in the room shifted once again, and very much not in Parian's favor.
Parian looked around desperately as she felt the situation slip away from her. Gully was still wearing a sourer expression than usual, while most of the rest of the guests seemed either amused or exasperated, though Delphine at least had a neutral expression. The expression from the woman by the door had only grown darker since the last time Parian checked.. And then something caught her eye. Something that shocked her.
Garment was still. She wasn't just being calm or restrained. Every part of her body had become completely frozen in place. Parian generally found the woman's flurry of movement a chaotic mess that she could barely follow at the best of times. She thought that was an unnatural state, but it had nothing on this. The woman's dress and gloves were locked in place like they had been carved out of stone. The absence of even the little emulations of breath and shifting of weight created a display that was a hundred times more unnerving than even the most outlandish spectacle of movement. Even the now bright colors of her newly altered dress seemed dim and muted.
She wasn't the only one to notice, but the rest of the group seemed at a loss for how to deal with the woman's current state. Jennifer Marshall cleared her throat and plastered a smile on her face.
"Well, it's a relief to know there wasn't anything serious." She said, handily dismissing Parian's concerns.
"Not regarding the 'incident'." Gully said as she turned to Parian. She blinked behind her mask.
"Excuse me?" She asked the large woman.
Gully held her gaze for a moment, then turned away. "Nothing."
"No." Parian insisted. "What do you mean?"
The woman took a massive breath and let out a huff that seemed to change the pressure in the room. "Not that this applies to you, but if you pulled that kind of thing in the Wards or Protectorate there would be hell to pay."
"What?" Parian asked. "What do you mean?"
"Generally speaking, capes leveraging accusations against civilians over personal matters tends to be frowned upon." Uppercrust explained.
"There are also extensive liability issues." Delphine added, causing Parian's head to snap towards her.
"Well, let's be glad it didn't come to that." Jennifer Marshall said in an infuriatingly contented voice.
"What are you saying?" Parian asked. With no better target she directed her question to Gully. The woman seemed reluctant to involve herself further, somewhat ironic given how she had started things. Finally she relented and turned to face Parian.
"At best you just tried to blacklist someone over an employee's personal history." The woman said in her harsh voice. "At best."
"That wasn't what this was about." She said to the derisive looks of the rest of the group. Garment was still frozen in that unnerving state. Parian tried to avoid looking at her as she continued. "I wasn't trying to blacklist anyone. It was just, after what happened…" She trailed off.
Uppercrust nodded at her in a vaguely patronizing manner that actually stung worse than the other looks of consternation she was receiving.
"Your concern for your employees is commendable, but this was not the best method of addressing the situation." He explained. "Capes hold considerable influence through their actions and statements, and particularly their accusations."
Gully nodded along while Parian was just amazed at the gall of Uppercrust equating their levels of influence or implying that she was somehow the more powerful party in this exchange. Given the situation, that couldn't have been further from the truth.
"Furthermore, and in general, exercising a position of authority for personal reasons is generally frowned upon, whether in the world of parahumans or business dealings. Or in this case, both." Uppercrust continued. The rest of the group, and even Delphine, nodded at his statement.
Sabah felt her breathing grow shallow again. Everyone, the entire room, and possibly everyone connected to them, was against her on this. Her desperate gamble had not only failed, it had left her in a worse situation. Everyone against her, heading for isolation, and once again, Jozef.
She felt herself panting behind her mask. Her power swirled through her costume, but beyond that there was no purchase. No meaningful purchase. What, her chair? The carpet? This wasn't her space. It wasn't the world she had made for herself. She had been dragged out of that and might not ever get it back.
It was even worse. Everything was worse. The plans, the hopes she had were falling apart. Her name was connected with this mess. The gentle indulgence for acting on behalf of someone else was built on sand. If she ever went through with her planned identity reveal it would all come out. She'd be seen as petty and vindictive. As a bitch trying to get back at someone who was innocent in their eyes.
It was too close. It was too much. She couldn't… She had to…
"I… Excuse me." She said abruptly. She pulled herself to her feet and rushed out of the room. Thoughts of networking, or planning future projects and initiatives seemed laughable. The room had been like a trap, except she didn't even warrant that level of concern. It had been a casual disassembly, not some grand scheme. Just a simple series of blows that tore down everything she had worked towards with casual indifference.
She sprinted through the halls, letting the power infused into her dress carry her. Normally she would struggle to coordinate that kind of movement and have difficulty keeping her telekinesis in an open envelope, but in her panic the power seemed to come easier and respond more precisely. A small blessing. At least she could run and hide properly.
Her knowledge of the Regency Center allowed her to avoid the more populated areas. She skirted her own team and avoided the open floor where the decorations from the show were being packed up. Instead she slipped down side halls and back rooms, seeking the quietest and most isolated place she could find.
A small storage room, one she had used at her first showing at the Regency Center. Clumsy stuffed animals dancing for the crowd, but it had been the start of something. Or she had hoped it would be.
Now she was right back where she started. No, she was in a worse position, because she had somehow managed to piss off the most powerful people in the city's fashion scene and earn an admonishment from one of the leaders of the Elite. If they did end up taking over the city she doubted she would be treated particularly kindly by the organization.
It was another reminder. She was trapped and isolated, she had been trapped and isolated, and she could look forward to being trapped and isolated. Those little rays of hope after her show seemed hopelessly naïve. The thoughts of someone trying to convince themself of a comforting lie rather than face reality.
And reality was bad. Somehow, everything had spiraled out again. She could just see the stories spread, the rumors of her unprofessional conduct and attempt to leverage her 'authority' against someone who obviously didn't deserve it. The contacts and reputation she relied on to function, destroyed in an instant, and all over the same person.
It was all crumbling down.
She slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs. The room she was hiding in was about the same size as her dorm room, back when she was in engineering. When she was spending every night alone, dreading what could happen after she had been forced to apologize, to deal with him again. Always worried about what would happen, with no control over anything. It was just like that. It was just…
"Parian?" Her head shot up at the sound of the voice. That light, optimistic voice with a slight accent. "Are you in there?"
"Um, yes. Just a minute." She said. She didn't know how Tetra had found her or why she was so far from her sister or the rest of Parian's team, but she wasn't going to complain. She could feel those dark thoughts receding just from having to focus on the current situation. Her problems weren't any better, but she wasn't hopelessly spirling into a pit of despair. At this point she'd count that as a win.
"Delphine? She's over here." Tetra called down the hall.
Okay, maybe it was a bit more than a win. Sabah quickly climbed to her feet and used her power to smooth out her dress. Once again, she was grateful for her mask hiding her eyes and face. With it she could at least present the impression that she had herself together.
She opened the door to Tetra's smiling face and the much more striking sight of Delphine striding down the hall towards her.
"Delphine said you left very quickly. Did something go wrong?" The girl asked.
Sabah looked up at Delphine before replying. "They got a little out of hand. I needed some air." She said before looking up at Delphine. "Thank you for checking on me, but I'm not sure we have any further business." She managed to keep any regret out of her voice.
"Really?" Delphine asked. "Ms. Charlton mentioned you were planning a follow-up photoshoot for the designs you premiered at the show." She looked down at her sister's excited face. "Though I understand if you'd rather use your usual model…"
"No!" She said, much more sharply than she intended. "I mean, Tetra, I'd love to have you model that dress for me, if you'd be interested." The girl's shining face was all the answer she needed.
"Tetra, I'll discuss the details with Parian. Could you go check on the rest of the volunteers?" Delphine asked her sister.
"Of course. Goodbye Parian. I'm glad everything is alright." The redhead waved to them as she hurried down the corridor. Parian waved back until the girl was out of sight.
"Things aren't alright, are they?" She asked Delphine.
"They could be better." The lawyer responded diplomatically.
Parian let out a breath. "How bad is it?"
Delphine shook her head, causing her blond hair to bounce artfully off her shoulders. Parian forced herself to focus past the rather distracting elements.
"The situation is unfortunate." Delphine said. "It was not the kind of thing people want to see from capes. Furthermore, Mrs. Gartenberg had some choice and rather creative things to say about you following your departure."
Parian tilted her head. "Mrs.… Gartenberg?" She asked.
"The woman seated by the door." Delphine explained without judgment. "She acted as the main coordinator for the volunteer staff and has been working extensively with relief efforts from the first set of attacks."
"At the gym?" Parian asked. Delphine nodded, confirming the worst-case scenario. Someone else who was probably on Jozef's side by default.
"Despite Mrs. Gartenberg's statements on the matter, most of those present have moved past the incident." Delphine said.
Parian looked up at the much taller woman. "Really? Just like that?"
Delphine gave her a single nod. "I understand your concerns regarding the impact on your career and prospects, but there are other priorities that take precedence for the members of the group. Given that there are no legal or financial consequences to this incident, they are largely happy to move on."
"Largely." Parian said, catching Delphine's phrasing. "So not everyone."
"No." She said with direct honesty. "Garment was not pleased with your behavior."
"I gathered." Parian muttered. She had never seen Garment like that. To her knowledge, nobody had seen Garment like that. "What's going to happen?" She asked, dreading the worst.
Delphine dropped her head. "Prior to this incident Garment was quite enthusiastic about the possibility of engaging in a series of collaborative projects with you. Given her reaction, this is not likely to go forward."
Parian blinked behind her mask. "She's not going to work with me?"
"No." Delphine said. "She was quite adamant about pursuing separate endeavors going forward."
"Oh…" Parian said. "And she's not going to do anything else?" Delphine shook her head. "Well, if that's the case…"
Garment was so angry with her that she was going to leave her alone? In what twisted perspective was that… No, she wasn't going to question it. Not after everything that had happened.
"And nothing else?" She asked. "Even with Gully or Uppercrust?"
"Gully has arranged a meeting with Garment for tomorrow afternoon, but it is unrelated to this event. Uppercrust had other pressing commitments that required his attention and had already departed. I believe he would have preferred to be able to enjoy his time without this incident, but he assured me he bears you no ill will."
"He did?" She asked. Delphine nodded and Sabah felt herself relax. Then she looked up and saw Delphine's expression. "What?"
"How are you managing?" She asked.
"I'm fine." She said quickly. "I am." She repeated, but it was clear that Delphine wasn't buying it.
"Your reactions were not specifically triggered out of concern for your employee." Delphine said, reminding her that she was both a highly perceptive lawyer and Tetra's sister.
"No." She said quietly.
"You are worried about the Elite." Delphine said.
"Yes." She replied. Taking a breath, she continued. "I've heard about what they do when they take over a city, what happens to Rogues. I thought I had avoided that, or that the situation would prevent anything from happening. At least prevent anything without me seeing it coming."
"The changing conditions have resulted in a great deal of uncertainty for many people." Delphine said.
"Yeah." She said, then risked a glance up. "Um, I don't actually have a problem with gay bars. That was about the Elite moving in, not that kind of stuff."
"I gathered." Delphine said with a soft smile. Sabah felt herself relax just a little bit.
"Um, you said that if something happened with the Elite, you could help." She began. "Does that still stand if Garment's done with me."
Delphine nodded. "I will stand by my offer, though I believe that you do not need to be concerned about the traditional tactics of the Elite being leveraged in Brockton Bay. They may have an agreement with the Empire, but there are other factors that would oppose their usual deployment method."
"The Celestial Forge?" Parian asked. Delphine nodded, as if a group that unstable could be relied on. "You really think they'll intervene if the Elite tries something?"
Delphine looked down at her, then retrieved her tablet. "There is a news report that you should see."
Parian pressed into Delphine's side and watched a report on the Celestial Forge's actions against the Empire. She still had problems, lots of them, but maybe things weren't quite as hopeless as they had seemed. They were bad, but she had come back from one disaster in her life already. She could do that again.
And maybe this time she wouldn't have handle the journey by herself.
