- Pronouns
- She
I am curious how much of Jacqueline's communication Armsmaster is understanding.
Orderly (Worm Semi-SI)
- Location
- The House of Moon and Star
- Pronouns
- She/Her
He understands the important things: care, concern, consideration. Beyond that, I think it's best left to the imagination (and whatever book/technology/friend he went to for help).
39-3 Instead (Interlude: Dennis)
New
- Location
- The House of Moon and Star
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Dennis:
"What the [fun] was that?" wasn't the most articulate thing Dennis could have opened the conversation with his direct, if mostly absentee, superior with. Nor was it the most respectful, or even particularly original, but it was what he had.
It did at least have the advantage of being direct. Armsmaster had never seemed particularly open to small talk.
Except, of course, for what Dennis had just witnessed, but that was exactly why it was so surprising.
Dennis was prepared to be reprimanded. It had certainly happened often enough, if not particularly cruelly. He was, after all, the class clown. Being reprimanded from time to time was just the cost of doing business.
He was not prepared for the Tinker to sigh, shrug, and admit fault. That was concerning.
"I'll admit," he admitted, "I haven't been paying The Wards enough attention these past few years."
Dennis couldn't argue with that. He'd spoken with Armsmaster one-on-one enough rarely enough to be able to recount each incidence individually, most of them reprimands Miss Militia or Miss Piggy couldn't be bothered with or just didn't want to handle themselves. And that still meant he'd had more interaction with the man than any of his peers had been blessed with. The only question was "...and you just decided to start now?"
Well, it wasn't the only question. Or even the only one Dennis could think of. But he was not asking why the man who always acted like his heart was made of granite was suddenly able to be the softest, surest, most reassuring father-figure in the world.
(Dennis was not envious of the kid. He wasn't. But his not-envy didn't stop him from recognising that that was weird as [fun], and probably deeply messed up.)
"We almost lost three Wards yesterday," was not the answer Dennis was expecting.
He didn't know what he was expecting, really, but that definitely wasn't it.
He didn't say anything in response. He didn't think he could have said anything in response, even if Armsmaster had paused long enough for him to actually work something out. Instead, the man stopped just long enough to be a hair past polite and for the silence to become just slightly uncomfortable in its own right.
"Sophia and Jacqueline, well, there's a lot even with just what I can tell you, but it wasn't good. I'm honestly surprised Jacqueline was up to pranking today, let alone making sure it was harmless and actually funny. I am… proud… of her."
He really was. Dennis could tell. He honestly wasn't sure how he could tell, but he could.
"That's not a reaction I've ever gotten for one of my pranks," was out of Dennis' mouth before he even realized he was talking.
(Maybe he was a little envious after all. Just a little. He certainly wasn't bitter, though.)
"... I didn't think it was something you were looking for," sounded just a little guilty, unbelievably to Dennis' ears. "I'm not the best person to explain it, but there's a fundamental difference in style between you two, in the methods that you both use."
Armsmaster was talking about pranks. Lecturing about pranks, and not in a negative fashion. As far as Dennis could tell, at least. That was… Unbelievable.
"I'll send you a book I've been recommended on the subject."
Right, that was more believable. Relatively. Still, by the time Dennis had processed that the man was back on the subject Dennis so dearly regretted bringing up.
"Browbeat would have died if he'd used the podium for his debut speech. A normal human probably would have needed to be identified forensically. With his powers, that kind of trauma might have technically been survivable, if he was lucky, but only if he kept his cool, remained perfectly still, and used his active powers to mitigate the damage with a degree of control he's never demonstrated. That's a lot to ask of an adult with years of Protectorate experience, let alone a fresh Ward, and his entirely understandable panic afterwards proved he couldn't have pulled it off."
Dennis hadn't even known Browbeat had been outside of headquarters during an attack, let alone that one of the attacks was at his debut. (Actually, he hadn't even known that Browbeat was supposed to debut yesterday, but that part was probably on him. It was the sort of thing he was supposed to keep track of, he'd just forgotten to do so. Again.)
That an outright, blatant and nightmarishly graphic attempt on a Ward's life had been made explained a great deal about why the entire team was confined to Headquarters unless accompanied by a Protectorate member for at least the next day.
Under the circumstances, Dennis was surprised they were being given even that much freedom. Unless…
"You got the person behind it, right?"
"I sent her hundreds of feet into the air in an alternate dimension with six fatal wounds and one of her own bombs strapped to her throat myself."
…
[Harmless Fun]!
Remind Dennis to never really make his boss angry. He'd known that the Tinker could be scary, one didn't become a Protectorate division leader without some serious metaphorical firepower, but that smile as he confessed to immense overkill was terrifying even if it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.
Girl. Whatever. Not the point. The point was that Dennis' boss was a stone cold son of a [bear] when he wanted to be.
An hour later, more than half of which had been spent on deeply disturbing explanations, Dennis was still very glad he was on Armsmaster's side.
For several reasons.
One of those reasons was an actually very interesting ebook entitled "Laughing With and Laughing At: The Mousetacular Guide to Mockery, Mayhem, and Making Fun versus Hijinks, Horseplay, and Honest Humor." And it was a compelling one. And the further elaborations on just how much had happened yesterday and how far the man had gone to put and end to the issues and rescue the captured Wards only reinforced the impression that his boss was much better to have as a friend, even if only in the loosest sense of the word, than an enemy.
But mostly, Dennis remembered that smile. He honestly doubted he would ever forget.
Even if the part of him that had spent his entire Ward's career repeatedly drawing what he now knew was the palest shadow of the top hero in Brockton Bay's ire desperately wanted to.
"What the [fun] was that?" wasn't the most articulate thing Dennis could have opened the conversation with his direct, if mostly absentee, superior with. Nor was it the most respectful, or even particularly original, but it was what he had.
It did at least have the advantage of being direct. Armsmaster had never seemed particularly open to small talk.
Except, of course, for what Dennis had just witnessed, but that was exactly why it was so surprising.
Dennis was prepared to be reprimanded. It had certainly happened often enough, if not particularly cruelly. He was, after all, the class clown. Being reprimanded from time to time was just the cost of doing business.
He was not prepared for the Tinker to sigh, shrug, and admit fault. That was concerning.
"I'll admit," he admitted, "I haven't been paying The Wards enough attention these past few years."
Dennis couldn't argue with that. He'd spoken with Armsmaster one-on-one enough rarely enough to be able to recount each incidence individually, most of them reprimands Miss Militia or Miss Piggy couldn't be bothered with or just didn't want to handle themselves. And that still meant he'd had more interaction with the man than any of his peers had been blessed with. The only question was "...and you just decided to start now?"
Well, it wasn't the only question. Or even the only one Dennis could think of. But he was not asking why the man who always acted like his heart was made of granite was suddenly able to be the softest, surest, most reassuring father-figure in the world.
(Dennis was not envious of the kid. He wasn't. But his not-envy didn't stop him from recognising that that was weird as [fun], and probably deeply messed up.)
"We almost lost three Wards yesterday," was not the answer Dennis was expecting.
He didn't know what he was expecting, really, but that definitely wasn't it.
He didn't say anything in response. He didn't think he could have said anything in response, even if Armsmaster had paused long enough for him to actually work something out. Instead, the man stopped just long enough to be a hair past polite and for the silence to become just slightly uncomfortable in its own right.
"Sophia and Jacqueline, well, there's a lot even with just what I can tell you, but it wasn't good. I'm honestly surprised Jacqueline was up to pranking today, let alone making sure it was harmless and actually funny. I am… proud… of her."
He really was. Dennis could tell. He honestly wasn't sure how he could tell, but he could.
"That's not a reaction I've ever gotten for one of my pranks," was out of Dennis' mouth before he even realized he was talking.
(Maybe he was a little envious after all. Just a little. He certainly wasn't bitter, though.)
"... I didn't think it was something you were looking for," sounded just a little guilty, unbelievably to Dennis' ears. "I'm not the best person to explain it, but there's a fundamental difference in style between you two, in the methods that you both use."
Armsmaster was talking about pranks. Lecturing about pranks, and not in a negative fashion. As far as Dennis could tell, at least. That was… Unbelievable.
"I'll send you a book I've been recommended on the subject."
Right, that was more believable. Relatively. Still, by the time Dennis had processed that the man was back on the subject Dennis so dearly regretted bringing up.
"Browbeat would have died if he'd used the podium for his debut speech. A normal human probably would have needed to be identified forensically. With his powers, that kind of trauma might have technically been survivable, if he was lucky, but only if he kept his cool, remained perfectly still, and used his active powers to mitigate the damage with a degree of control he's never demonstrated. That's a lot to ask of an adult with years of Protectorate experience, let alone a fresh Ward, and his entirely understandable panic afterwards proved he couldn't have pulled it off."
Dennis hadn't even known Browbeat had been outside of headquarters during an attack, let alone that one of the attacks was at his debut. (Actually, he hadn't even known that Browbeat was supposed to debut yesterday, but that part was probably on him. It was the sort of thing he was supposed to keep track of, he'd just forgotten to do so. Again.)
That an outright, blatant and nightmarishly graphic attempt on a Ward's life had been made explained a great deal about why the entire team was confined to Headquarters unless accompanied by a Protectorate member for at least the next day.
Under the circumstances, Dennis was surprised they were being given even that much freedom. Unless…
"You got the person behind it, right?"
"I sent her hundreds of feet into the air in an alternate dimension with six fatal wounds and one of her own bombs strapped to her throat myself."
…
[Harmless Fun]!
Remind Dennis to never really make his boss angry. He'd known that the Tinker could be scary, one didn't become a Protectorate division leader without some serious metaphorical firepower, but that smile as he confessed to immense overkill was terrifying even if it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.
Girl. Whatever. Not the point. The point was that Dennis' boss was a stone cold son of a [bear] when he wanted to be.
An hour later, more than half of which had been spent on deeply disturbing explanations, Dennis was still very glad he was on Armsmaster's side.
For several reasons.
One of those reasons was an actually very interesting ebook entitled "Laughing With and Laughing At: The Mousetacular Guide to Mockery, Mayhem, and Making Fun versus Hijinks, Horseplay, and Honest Humor." And it was a compelling one. And the further elaborations on just how much had happened yesterday and how far the man had gone to put and end to the issues and rescue the captured Wards only reinforced the impression that his boss was much better to have as a friend, even if only in the loosest sense of the word, than an enemy.
But mostly, Dennis remembered that smile. He honestly doubted he would ever forget.
Even if the part of him that had spent his entire Ward's career repeatedly drawing what he now knew was the palest shadow of the top hero in Brockton Bay's ire desperately wanted to.
- Pronouns
- She
Oh, this is great! Dennis gets a book to help him improve his pranks 
Something he probably could have used earlier, but it's never too late to start getting support
Something he probably could have used earlier, but it's never too late to start getting support- Pronouns
- She/Her
Shame that we can't get a copy of the Mousetacular Guide.
- Location
- The House of Moon and Star
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Honestly, it's probably something that's generally better explained in person, but Armsmaster is self-aware enough to know that he's not the best person to explain it and he's just the sort of person to deal with that sort of problem by throwing the first book on the subject that comes to mind at it.Oh, this is great! Dennis gets a book to help him improve his pranks
It's actually not outside of the realm of possibility, if there's enough interest. It'd certainly be a bizarre juxtaposition of serious subjects and children's books, but I did write Thomas Calvert and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Evil Plan so that's at least somewhat familiar ground. It'd be tricky to make a writing style for Mouse Protector, and I'm not sure how well it would work without illustrations, but I'm reasonably confident it is something I could do.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
May I suggest that a few excerpts from the book would be a lot easier to pull off. But if you do manage the whole book, that would be awesome. Although I wouldn't want it to interrupt Orderly.
39-4 Insouciance
New
- Location
- The House of Moon and Star
- Pronouns
- She/Her
In theory, approaching Sophia was a matter to be considered carefully. In practice, I had enough emotionally exhausted insouciance to take the first seemingly viable route that occurred to me, and enough eccentric perspicacity for it to be actually not terrible.
I mean, it wasn't great, but it was at least not as bad as it could have been.
Plus, well, I was distinctly non-threatening in appearance. Especially since I was still in my pyjamas. As nice as they were, for pyjamas, they were still rather the opposite of intimidating. They were also mostly black, which was precisely the opposite of the mostly white outfit any particularly traumatic memories of me she had would have been formed in.
Which was why I hadn't changed after belatedly realising I was still wearing them. In hindsight, that probably made the entire thing I'd just pulled all the weirder for Clockblocker, but it wasn't like I could just go back in time and undo it. He knew what he was getting into when he decided to engage with me less than a day after everything that went down in Coil's underground lair.
Or did he?
Now that I was actually thinking about it, there was no reason he would have been given all the details. That a Ward kidnapping had happened and the perpetrator killed, maybe, he did have a right to know there had been a threat and that it had been resolved. And it would have been difficult to keep who, exactly, had been kidnapped secret long term if they did share that. Who exactly the culprit had been, well, if any supervillain could disappear without a trace and have nobody question it it would have been Coil, but now the Wards had strong reasons to be paying attention. But probably no more than that. The rest was both disturbing and intensely personal in ways that really shouldn't be shared without permission.
And even what could be shared wouldn't have been a top priority to share. It was important, but not that important. Not compared to at least some of the million and one things that needed doing in the aftermath of a disaster like Barracuda's attack. It easily could have waited until somebody high-up had a free moment to share the news in person, make sure they took it alright.
… Armsmaster specifically mentioned he was checking up on all the Wards. Whether or not "checking up" was his primary goal, it would have been the perfect opportunity to have that conversation. And of course he wouldn't have mentioned it to me, he'd been very careful to not bring up the kidnapping directly.
Maybe I owed Clockblocker an apology.
I wasn't entirely sure of that, he did still start things and I felt I had some fairly understandable reasons for not being at my best, but apologies are one of those "rather have it and not need it" things.
Needed apologies left ungiven aren't usually the end of the world, most aren't necessities in that sense, generally not unless they involve outright violence, abuse, or atrocity, but they do lead to bad feelings and generally make relationships worse. And they're bad form as well. It behooves one to acknowledge one's missteps properly.
Plus both capes and teenagers tend to be the sort of people who don't take such missteps well. Slights tend to be met with retaliation (which in its turn is met with further retaliation), particularly among the more immature among us. This, combined with the fact that capes and teenagers also tend to be the sort of people who make such missteps and the sort to not apologise does a lot to explain why both cape and teenager societies are so generally messed up.
It's not a problem I have a good solution for, but it's also not a problem I wish to contribute to more than necessary. Certainly not with people on the same side as me.
And there are worse things than unnecessary apologies. Just as necessary ones serve as an olive branch, unneeded ones serve as an open hand, demonstrating willingness to give a little for the other person, even in situations where it's not strictly obligatory. They show care.
So I determined that I would apologise to Clockblocker, whether or not it was strictly necessary.
And so I determined that I would apologise to Sophia. I'll admit, the similar methodology was no coincidence: my course of action with her was directly inspired by my considerations on the Clockblocker matter, and I didn't really think about them separately as much as I could have.
And frankly should have.
If I had, maybe I would have worked out what I was apologising for. There's a lot to be said for at least opening with vagueness and letting the other party decide what part's the most important, but it would have been better to have worked out the most important part for myself as well. For my own part and for what I could guess of the person I was apologising to's, at a minimum.
But, well, I had enough emotionally exhausted insouciance to take the first seemingly viable route that occurred to me. That's not the sort of state of mind that leads to thinking things through. Not once said seemingly viable route has been found, anyway.
It does, however, encourage one to put in one's all, so rushing up with great big teary puppy dog eyes, arms thrown as far open as they would go and a hearty "I'm sowwwy" it was.
I am only slightly exaggerating. My pronunciation was better than that, and my arms were still at an obtuse angle instead of the vast reflex monstrosity they were capable of, but otherwise I was the very picture of "adorable sad child wants you to forgive her".
Frankly, even with those questionable points of restraint it was probably still more than a little overwrought. I honestly don't think it would have been believable if I hadn't been genuinely at least somewhat overwrought and in possession of some very good reasons to be overwrought that everybody present was painfully aware of.
As it was, well, sometimes you just don't call somebody out on being dramatic no matter how dramatic they're being.
Though the pyjamas probably didn't hurt either.
I mean, it wasn't great, but it was at least not as bad as it could have been.
Plus, well, I was distinctly non-threatening in appearance. Especially since I was still in my pyjamas. As nice as they were, for pyjamas, they were still rather the opposite of intimidating. They were also mostly black, which was precisely the opposite of the mostly white outfit any particularly traumatic memories of me she had would have been formed in.
Which was why I hadn't changed after belatedly realising I was still wearing them. In hindsight, that probably made the entire thing I'd just pulled all the weirder for Clockblocker, but it wasn't like I could just go back in time and undo it. He knew what he was getting into when he decided to engage with me less than a day after everything that went down in Coil's underground lair.
Or did he?
Now that I was actually thinking about it, there was no reason he would have been given all the details. That a Ward kidnapping had happened and the perpetrator killed, maybe, he did have a right to know there had been a threat and that it had been resolved. And it would have been difficult to keep who, exactly, had been kidnapped secret long term if they did share that. Who exactly the culprit had been, well, if any supervillain could disappear without a trace and have nobody question it it would have been Coil, but now the Wards had strong reasons to be paying attention. But probably no more than that. The rest was both disturbing and intensely personal in ways that really shouldn't be shared without permission.
And even what could be shared wouldn't have been a top priority to share. It was important, but not that important. Not compared to at least some of the million and one things that needed doing in the aftermath of a disaster like Barracuda's attack. It easily could have waited until somebody high-up had a free moment to share the news in person, make sure they took it alright.
… Armsmaster specifically mentioned he was checking up on all the Wards. Whether or not "checking up" was his primary goal, it would have been the perfect opportunity to have that conversation. And of course he wouldn't have mentioned it to me, he'd been very careful to not bring up the kidnapping directly.
Maybe I owed Clockblocker an apology.
I wasn't entirely sure of that, he did still start things and I felt I had some fairly understandable reasons for not being at my best, but apologies are one of those "rather have it and not need it" things.
Needed apologies left ungiven aren't usually the end of the world, most aren't necessities in that sense, generally not unless they involve outright violence, abuse, or atrocity, but they do lead to bad feelings and generally make relationships worse. And they're bad form as well. It behooves one to acknowledge one's missteps properly.
Plus both capes and teenagers tend to be the sort of people who don't take such missteps well. Slights tend to be met with retaliation (which in its turn is met with further retaliation), particularly among the more immature among us. This, combined with the fact that capes and teenagers also tend to be the sort of people who make such missteps and the sort to not apologise does a lot to explain why both cape and teenager societies are so generally messed up.
It's not a problem I have a good solution for, but it's also not a problem I wish to contribute to more than necessary. Certainly not with people on the same side as me.
And there are worse things than unnecessary apologies. Just as necessary ones serve as an olive branch, unneeded ones serve as an open hand, demonstrating willingness to give a little for the other person, even in situations where it's not strictly obligatory. They show care.
So I determined that I would apologise to Clockblocker, whether or not it was strictly necessary.
And so I determined that I would apologise to Sophia. I'll admit, the similar methodology was no coincidence: my course of action with her was directly inspired by my considerations on the Clockblocker matter, and I didn't really think about them separately as much as I could have.
And frankly should have.
If I had, maybe I would have worked out what I was apologising for. There's a lot to be said for at least opening with vagueness and letting the other party decide what part's the most important, but it would have been better to have worked out the most important part for myself as well. For my own part and for what I could guess of the person I was apologising to's, at a minimum.
But, well, I had enough emotionally exhausted insouciance to take the first seemingly viable route that occurred to me. That's not the sort of state of mind that leads to thinking things through. Not once said seemingly viable route has been found, anyway.
It does, however, encourage one to put in one's all, so rushing up with great big teary puppy dog eyes, arms thrown as far open as they would go and a hearty "I'm sowwwy" it was.
I am only slightly exaggerating. My pronunciation was better than that, and my arms were still at an obtuse angle instead of the vast reflex monstrosity they were capable of, but otherwise I was the very picture of "adorable sad child wants you to forgive her".
Frankly, even with those questionable points of restraint it was probably still more than a little overwrought. I honestly don't think it would have been believable if I hadn't been genuinely at least somewhat overwrought and in possession of some very good reasons to be overwrought that everybody present was painfully aware of.
As it was, well, sometimes you just don't call somebody out on being dramatic no matter how dramatic they're being.
Though the pyjamas probably didn't hurt either.
39-5 Insulation
New
- Location
- The House of Moon and Star
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Honestly, I don't think Sophia had any more idea what I was apologising for than I did. I am not, in fact, one hundred percent sure she noticed that I was apologising at all. She was, however, very supportive, if mostly in a literal, physical sense wherein she was supporting most of both our weights.
It was evident that, physically speaking, she was fine. More than fine, really, she was about as physically fit as it was possible for a girl her (physical) age to be, at least without steroids or helpful parahuman enhancements. Which wasn't exactly a surprise, given Panacea and Shadow Stalker's track records, but it was nice to know nonetheless. She certainly had some very nice shoulders to cry on, even if that was only possible because she was leaning forward.
She was tall, and I wasn't, is what I'm getting at.
Less conveniently, she also had very strong arms, with an equally strong grip, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Tight hugs, even too tight limpet hugs, just weren't something I could bring myself to worry about at the time.
I don't think my shoulders were as nice for crying on as Sophia's, they were actually kinda pointy, but they seemed to do the job well enough. Actually, given the amount of tears on me as I was being used as a teddy bear, they may have been doing the job a little too well.
Fortunately, a responsible adult (for a given value of "adult", given that his Wards graduation was less than a month ago) stepped in before we died of dehydration, though not before I, at least, was considerably dehydrated.In hindsight, I probably should have had something to drink with my "breakfast". Probably would have, if I hadn't gotten distracted, but there's no use crying about unconsumed milk.
There had been more than enough crying already anyway.
In all honesty, I wasn't sure what, exactly, I was sipping through my oddly satisfying neon-blue curly straw. Something sweet in a slightly different neon blue, tasting of some unidentifiable artificial fruit flavouring and the slight vaguely salty lingering of added electrolytes.
I hadn't known that was even a thing here, but apparently it was, and mundane enough for nobody to comment on it. That would probably have been more helpful for figuring out how the timeline for Earth Bet differed from the one other me came from if I knew when said other timeline actually started using electrolytes in drinks.
I mean, it feels really modern in almost a science fiction sort of way, but it's not like it actually requires any sort of technological sophistication to pull off. Not once you have the means to mine salt, anyway. Sure, you can go fancier, but I'm reasonably sure that it's not strictly necessary.
"Are you okay, Jacqueline?"
Right, I was still in a room with people. People with reasonable concerns, even, some of them about me. Sophia was looking okay, for a generous value of "okay", but I wasn't.
So I looked Triumph in his overdramatic lion mask and let my eyes tell him was lying when I said I was. I don't know if he got the memo or not, but I wasn't about to tell the truth where Sophia could hear it.
Either way, he nodded and gave us some space after that. Not enough for us to be properly alone or unsupervised, but enough to have a quiet conversation without being overheard, assuming his sound manipulation didn't extend to super-hearing.
I didn't have any particular reason to think it did, but it was a fairly logical extension of what I knew about his powerset, if he could amplify sound, limit what areas it went to, dampen it, and unleash massive burst of it by shouting, he could probably detect it a bit better than the rest of us. It would certainly make more sense than the Brute package he got with it. Wouldn't be hard to hide, either, given that he was immune to loud noises, the usual weakness of those blessed with superhearing.
"What is with that mask? He's literally gilded the lion."
He quirked just enough to let me know he was, in fact, listening, but didn't comment.
My actual intended audience, on the other hand, was more responsive, if not precisely receptive.
"Lily."
Just as planned. For both, though with Triumph there weren't really very many possible outcomes and I would have said that for any of them. Either he responded and showed he was listening and wanted to be involved or he didn't and showed he wasn't. In this case, he was listening but intended to stay out of it for the moment.
What I was doing with Sophia wasn't much more complicated, but it did have a failure condition. Distraction only works if somebody lets themself get distracted, so it was good to see Sophia was doing just that.
That meant I just needed to keep it up.
"My name's Jacqueline, actually. Don't worry, you're not the only one to get it wrong lately."
Seven at the hospital alone, in fact. Most of them weren't notably persistent or dramatic about it, but still. Not that that was the point. The point was getting her to take the bait, and I was rewarded with her sighing, shaking her head, and trying further to correct me.
I was very careful to keep just how adorable I found it from reaching my face. I was already tamping down my amusement, so it didn't take all that much additional effort, but it was still something to keep in mind. Wouldn't want to give the game away that easily.
"No, Jacqueline, I mean it's gilded the lily, not the lion."
Taking a sip before responding may have been just a touch too sassy, I'll admit. But it was definitely satisfying, and I don't just mean the surprisingly refreshing flavour.
"Triumph doesn't have any lilies, though? He doesn't seem to have any flowers at all."
Sophia's ensuing sigh was also satisfying. But not as much as the way she, too, took a sip from her own curly straw before she started to explain further.
It was good to see her looking to her own wellbeing, if only in the smallest of ways. Now it was just a matter of maintaining the proper level of distraction.
What I didn't consider at the time was that it was a matter of maintaining the proper level of distraction for both of us. Given that I'd already gotten distracted from this conversation once, that was perhaps rather foolish of me.
It was evident that, physically speaking, she was fine. More than fine, really, she was about as physically fit as it was possible for a girl her (physical) age to be, at least without steroids or helpful parahuman enhancements. Which wasn't exactly a surprise, given Panacea and Shadow Stalker's track records, but it was nice to know nonetheless. She certainly had some very nice shoulders to cry on, even if that was only possible because she was leaning forward.
She was tall, and I wasn't, is what I'm getting at.
Less conveniently, she also had very strong arms, with an equally strong grip, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Tight hugs, even too tight limpet hugs, just weren't something I could bring myself to worry about at the time.
I don't think my shoulders were as nice for crying on as Sophia's, they were actually kinda pointy, but they seemed to do the job well enough. Actually, given the amount of tears on me as I was being used as a teddy bear, they may have been doing the job a little too well.
Fortunately, a responsible adult (for a given value of "adult", given that his Wards graduation was less than a month ago) stepped in before we died of dehydration, though not before I, at least, was considerably dehydrated.In hindsight, I probably should have had something to drink with my "breakfast". Probably would have, if I hadn't gotten distracted, but there's no use crying about unconsumed milk.
There had been more than enough crying already anyway.
In all honesty, I wasn't sure what, exactly, I was sipping through my oddly satisfying neon-blue curly straw. Something sweet in a slightly different neon blue, tasting of some unidentifiable artificial fruit flavouring and the slight vaguely salty lingering of added electrolytes.
I hadn't known that was even a thing here, but apparently it was, and mundane enough for nobody to comment on it. That would probably have been more helpful for figuring out how the timeline for Earth Bet differed from the one other me came from if I knew when said other timeline actually started using electrolytes in drinks.
I mean, it feels really modern in almost a science fiction sort of way, but it's not like it actually requires any sort of technological sophistication to pull off. Not once you have the means to mine salt, anyway. Sure, you can go fancier, but I'm reasonably sure that it's not strictly necessary.
"Are you okay, Jacqueline?"
Right, I was still in a room with people. People with reasonable concerns, even, some of them about me. Sophia was looking okay, for a generous value of "okay", but I wasn't.
So I looked Triumph in his overdramatic lion mask and let my eyes tell him was lying when I said I was. I don't know if he got the memo or not, but I wasn't about to tell the truth where Sophia could hear it.
Either way, he nodded and gave us some space after that. Not enough for us to be properly alone or unsupervised, but enough to have a quiet conversation without being overheard, assuming his sound manipulation didn't extend to super-hearing.
I didn't have any particular reason to think it did, but it was a fairly logical extension of what I knew about his powerset, if he could amplify sound, limit what areas it went to, dampen it, and unleash massive burst of it by shouting, he could probably detect it a bit better than the rest of us. It would certainly make more sense than the Brute package he got with it. Wouldn't be hard to hide, either, given that he was immune to loud noises, the usual weakness of those blessed with superhearing.
"What is with that mask? He's literally gilded the lion."
He quirked just enough to let me know he was, in fact, listening, but didn't comment.
My actual intended audience, on the other hand, was more responsive, if not precisely receptive.
"Lily."
Just as planned. For both, though with Triumph there weren't really very many possible outcomes and I would have said that for any of them. Either he responded and showed he was listening and wanted to be involved or he didn't and showed he wasn't. In this case, he was listening but intended to stay out of it for the moment.
What I was doing with Sophia wasn't much more complicated, but it did have a failure condition. Distraction only works if somebody lets themself get distracted, so it was good to see Sophia was doing just that.
That meant I just needed to keep it up.
"My name's Jacqueline, actually. Don't worry, you're not the only one to get it wrong lately."
Seven at the hospital alone, in fact. Most of them weren't notably persistent or dramatic about it, but still. Not that that was the point. The point was getting her to take the bait, and I was rewarded with her sighing, shaking her head, and trying further to correct me.
I was very careful to keep just how adorable I found it from reaching my face. I was already tamping down my amusement, so it didn't take all that much additional effort, but it was still something to keep in mind. Wouldn't want to give the game away that easily.
"No, Jacqueline, I mean it's gilded the lily, not the lion."
Taking a sip before responding may have been just a touch too sassy, I'll admit. But it was definitely satisfying, and I don't just mean the surprisingly refreshing flavour.
"Triumph doesn't have any lilies, though? He doesn't seem to have any flowers at all."
Sophia's ensuing sigh was also satisfying. But not as much as the way she, too, took a sip from her own curly straw before she started to explain further.
It was good to see her looking to her own wellbeing, if only in the smallest of ways. Now it was just a matter of maintaining the proper level of distraction.
What I didn't consider at the time was that it was a matter of maintaining the proper level of distraction for both of us. Given that I'd already gotten distracted from this conversation once, that was perhaps rather foolish of me.
- Location
- Attached to a wall
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Gilding the Lily is a new expression for me.
And Jacqueline is once more saving the day by showcasing her Thinker rating. She deserves to be at least a Thinker 0 at this point even without powers propping up her Social skills.
And Jacqueline is once more saving the day by showcasing her Thinker rating. She deserves to be at least a Thinker 0 at this point even without powers propping up her Social skills.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The medical use of electrolyte drinks seems to date from the 1940s but I think the non-medical use started around the 80s.
nicoo
Malfunctioning neurochemistry, please be kind.
- Location
- Europe
- Pronouns
- They/She/Meow
That should be "gilded," shouldn't it? Though maybe now I'll dream of gliding lion... hypersonic glide ve-lions?
- Location
- The House of Moon and Star
- Pronouns
- She/Her
From my research (such as it is), they were invented for at most borderline medical purposes in the 1940s, specifically for athletes and recovery (for one team). Either way, they're firmly pre-Scion, and I knew that before I included them. They just really don't seem like they should be, and that lets me throw in a few small character moments for Jacqueline.
I've checked a few times now, and it does say gilded. Gliding lions aren't in the story yet, although with Triumph's sound manipulation he probably would have a substantial advantage in the area compared to a baseline human.
It's when you add a bunch of unneeded extra decoration/pomp and circumstance to something already good and ruining what's already there. It's frequently attributed to Shakespeare, but is actually a mashup of two of his metaphors, gilding refined gold and painting the lily. Personally, I think the "gilded the lily" version sounds better, and of course it's the version Sophia is more likely to have actually heard and the version that actually fits the pun.
Technically, Jacqueline has been rated as a Thinker 0/1, albeit for "a level of calm, clear thinking, and clarity of purpose well beyond the norm for the subject's known age, level of training, and experience" rather than straight intelligence. Though this is because it's suspected to be maybe powers related, not in and of itself something to be noted on the scale.
Ultimately, 0 ratings seem to occupy a weird spot in the rating system. The one canon example I can find is Saint's Teacher-granted ability to use and maintain Dragontech, and given what he's done with it by the normal system that should be at least a 3 at a very bare minimum, more realistically a 4 or 5. 0, then, by my interpretation is where they categorise things that are the result of powers but are not strictly powers themselves, with Jacqueline's 0/1 representing uncertainty to whether it's a pretty unimpressive power, a relatively unimpressive facet of a different power, a result of a power, or just her being better at it than expected.
0 is then the correct rating for Jacqueline's social thinking, given all the extra experience and study, but that's not something the PRT is aware of.
More broadly, the rating system isn't really meant to deal with assets parahumans have that aren't parahuman in nature. Hard work, determination, ambition, non-mind control obtained PR and allies, intelligence, reputation, ruthlessness, creativity, escalation, and mundane money, resources and the leveraging therof, none of these are directly touched upon in a Cape's rating, but in canon Skitter's impressive track record had at least as much to do with those as it did her actual powerset. In fact, there are very few capes who can even be argued to not rely on any of those things that don't show up in the rating system, and those I can think of are either vastly inhumanly powerful even by cape standards or are those where said things arguably are part of their powers.
nicoo
Malfunctioning neurochemistry, please be kind.
- Location
- Europe
- Pronouns
- They/She/Meow
Sorry, I must have been really tired, as I kept reading "glided" both in the story, and when quoting to reply 😓
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Ah, Gatorade. I didn't remember that. I looked up Pedialyte and Oral Rehydration Therapy. I think the rebranding of Lucozade into a sports drink is what I was thinking of.