Funny story about the pager-- you got it when you were ten. You asked for a Wayne Tech device that year for your birthday, all high on the little indignation-- a way to keep the other kids quiet, a little slice of peace in what was otherwise a whole lot of stupid kids. Dad thought he was being smart, got you a box for one of his little PDA things but put a discontinued pager inside. Damn near broke your heart, and for like an hour you were super pissed.
(Then you and the rest of the family went to the Hall of Justice and all was forgiven. Superman signed one of the cards they give out at the front desk-- you still have it in the front of your gym bag)
When you met Floros, you swiftly determined that the only way you could possibly do any of the stupider things the both of you planned was by setting up a signal with it-- unlike your phone, computer, or snail mail-- Anna couldn't work a pager.
Couldn't meddle with your treasure.
Inside your room, there are boxes. A great many boxes. Clear ones, cardboard, plastic. Otherwise it's a pretty generic room-- white walls, black carpet, posters. Whole nine yards.
Kinda makes you weird-- you'll confess to it. On the other hand, it's really hard to mess with your stuff; and no matter how hard your little sister tried, she'd never find shit. Oh, she'd stumble on some...shady things (Hiding your report card at the top: not your best plan) but never any of the really damning stuff-- not the handcuffs Floros wanted you to keep safe for her, not the map of the city's sewers that Buhr kept for his troupe, not even your pride and joy-- nunchucks. Not without knowing the poster system-- and that's knowledge you've shared with two people in the entire rest of the world.
Superman for your stuff.
Batman for Buhr, anti-social nerds.
Wonder Woman for Agathe, for hopefully obvious reasons.
Check in the box under that poster and you'd find their stuff.
Bringing up the device, you write up a quick message to Agathe-- Am stuck in jail. Please advise.
10:4 Good buddy, am on my way.
From inside the closet, there's a shuffle. A little thing, normally you'd just brush it off as a paper falling or something...but you just got done cleaning yesterday.
Sprinting to the closet door, sure enough your sister Anna is there looking like she just saw the devil. To be fair...you are pretty scary to have suddenly appear. You hoist her up by the front of her shirt.
"Were you dirtying my horde you-"
"You have a horde?" She looks absolutely delighted to have such dirt on you, her smile wicked.
The door opens and you both stand at attention. Fortunately, it's just dad standing out in the hall and a moment later you both let out a sigh as he walks in in his pajama bottoms and shirt, brown hair dirty. "Anna, don't be a snitch and stop spying on your brother."
Your sister, happy just to receive that light reprimand, races back to her room while your dad shuts the door behind him, gingerly stepping in. "Son, do you mind if we have a little...heart to heart right quick?"
"Sure. I got nowhere better to be ten o'clock."
"Oh good." He walks in, tired. There's rings around his eyes and he looks closer to fifty than forty. "Listen, I just wanted to talk to you about today. Despite...this thisness, I am proud of you. I don't want you to fight-- but if you have to fight, I'd rather you do it for a friend, to the sort of men you did it to, than because you were trying to be tough or to some poor kid."
"Dad, did I or did I not get my first suspension knocking about some of the kids who were trying to bully Buhr?"
He smiles at that. "Yes, and I was proud of you for that." His gaze goes distant for a second, and he almost seems to be looking over your shoulder-- before he shakes his head and smiles at you. "You know, twenty years ago today is when I met your mother? Prettiest girl I ever saw." He swallows, hard. "Look, James, all I'm saying is I don't ever want to reach the point where you have to exile yourself just to escape me and your mother. I know the urge to test the boundaries because I've been there too, lived it, learned from it. Just...feel free to talk with me about stuff, alright?" He gives you a dry look. "Ideally before Miss Floros drags you and Aaron into something stupid, again."
[] "Thanks, dad, but tonight I'm good." (I mean, you are)
[] "Well, uh, actually..." (Tell Dad the god's honest truth about what happened in the bar)
