Tom

One nice thing about having more space than you really needed was that you had spares. Lady Obsidian had suggested we use the second training area to teach combat and let the new guys cut loose in. It would allow calibrations to personalized to their powers and styles. We had already made a few. 

We even set the service bots to apply a nice layer of paint over night. There was only one problem.

"Why is this room Magenta?" I blinked. 

The walls were not only strong enough to withstand superhuman blows of raw night legendary power, they were also bright, garish, magenta. Every single square inch looked like someone had eaten tones of red, purple, and pink flowers, and then vomited back on the walls in an even stream.

"I should know?" She said, but even as she countered, she pressed the control pad we were using in lieu of Mabel. It was slower, but it took orders, "How'd you pick the color?"
"Went right down the alphabet, was going Mahogany or something?" I answered.

"Is it possible you didn't scroll down enough? orrr," Ariana stretched the word in that tone you get when you're trying to interject something that isn't going to make the listener sound good, "maybe it rolled back a little and you pressed without looking at the last moment?"
 
I wracked my brain trying to recall. With Mabel gone, we were finding a lot of the devices we took for granted needed a bit more focus and concentration. Was it possible that I had put in the wrong color or misread the machine? Yes. Was it likely? Uhm, I thought with discomfort, yeah.

"It's Pinprick's fault," I told her straight faced.

"Pinprick's on the away team," She reminded me, "Hasn't been here in awhile and won't be back for awhile yet?"
"That's what makes him the perfect Scape-Goat," I smiled.
"Uh huh," She looked at the magenta walls and tapped one foot, "Darn Pinprick, look at this."
I smiled, "I love you."
"You better," She said, and for a moment the look she gave hinted at a smokey promise to celebrate that declaration. The odds of a kiss were definitely on the rise.

And then shot down like a clay pigeon at a shotgun range.

"Why is this place all tarted up?" a voice asked.

"It looks like we're in Prince's tomb" another said.

Aspirant, Bramble, Hussar, and Trailblazer had entered into the room. I noticed Aspirant's cape seemed off. It was fluttering a bit more to one side than the other and fluffed out at that. Hussar moved with easy confidence and took point. I suspect he was glancing back now and then to check his curvier fellow team mates out.

Well, I guess I couldn't throw stones at fraternizing with a team mate given I was in a very serious relationship with one of my own. Still, I made a mental note to make sure he wasn't making the girls, pardon me, women, uncomfortable.
Trailblazer seemed to be chatting quietly with Bramble. I suspect Bramble's earlier comment of support to Trailblazer about adapting to full power had broken the ice a touch between the two, which was fine by me.
Valerosa directed with a firm tone of command, "Okay, everyone fall in, look lively, and listen up."

If she had added added the order to stand at attention I am not sure I would be able to resist calling her 'Sarge', and that would make dinner dates awkward. Fortunately, they didn't, and the four rookies stood more or less together in a bunch.
"This is a training room for combat practice and power development," Valerosa continued once they did so, "It's an environment where you can cut loose with your powers with no risk to innocents, and hopefully less risk to each other though you still need to be aware of your surroundings and your team mates as you utilize the area. You are allowed to make mistakes in here, so you won't make mistakes out there."
"Now, any questions before we really get going?" I asked.

Aspirant and Trailblazer's hands both shot up, in that up from the elbow kind of way that indicates you feel a bit silly raising your hands but you're not sure you shouldn't so this is a compromise kind of way. Hussar and Bramble both flat out spoke, he louder than her, rather than wait on being called on.

"Why IS this place this girly red purple?" Hussar asked, confusion writ upon his brow.

"What's with the magenta?" Bramble said at the same time, having the advantage, as women often do, of actually being able to name to name the shade and hue.
Valerosa raised a brow then looked at the other two, "Is there any chance the questions you two were about to ask were on another subject besides the magenta color of the place?"
They shook their heads a bit sheepishly. No, there was no chance of that.

"There's a very good reason for everything we do," Valerosa said with smooth confidence that was, frankly, impressive in how conjured from the ether it was, "And trust us when I say it is all tied to the purpose of making you better superheroes."
I nodded, "Exactly," and hoped no one noticed that she had not really answered the question.

Then my girlfriend, my lover, the other half of my heart, threw me under the proverbial bus so fast I could almost see the bomb the movie villain had strapped to the underside of it.

"Explain it to them, Co-Captain Eel," She added.

I shot her a brief 'Are you crazy?' look that I hoped the others didn't notice, and then switched to a nod imitating her confident manner of speaking, albeit with my own accent, "A superhero has to be prepared for the strange, the unusual, and the unexpected at all times. You may find yourself fighting in the ocean depths, a steampunk style underground villain lair, or on the surface of a strange world where the very sky is not the color you are familiar with but rather say," I gestured, "Magenta. You must be aware of it, but you cannot let it distract you from your mission ,or the continued focus on the safety of innocents and your team mates. Your lives may, no, make that will depend on your ability to adapt and adapt quickly and find focus where it is needed."

In certain circles, what I was doing would be called 'Laying it on thick'. There are far less polite terms for it. 

"Huh," Hussar nodded, "I guess that makes sense."

Trailblazer thought about it, then nodded as well.

Bramble? Her wooden features shifted to a kind of squint headtilt combination that showed she was not quite ready to ride this train of thought to the destination I had offered up.

It was Aspirant who ruined everything, "You two do know I'm a telepath, right?" He said.

"Wait, are you in my head?" I asked.

"Yeah, you said this was the place to use our powers and I figured that meant that it was okay to-" He coughed as, apparently, he read my displeasure at this intrusion into my psyche and course-corrected ,"And I see that I was wrong with both of you. Sorry about that."

"Have you been reading all our thoughts?" Trailblazer said alarmed.

"Only the team captains," He assured, "And only because I kind of thought that was approval." He glanced over to see Valerosa giving him a look, 'Which I see now it clearly was not."

"Forget that," Bramble waved it off seemingly unconcerned, "I want to know, how legit is this whole 'It's Magenta to teach you preparedness thing'?"

"Not even a little," Aspirant mumbled but not so quietly that she couldn't hear him.

I sighed, "Fine. There was a mix up with a device, our usual A.I. has taken residence elsewhere and Godspeed to her, so this came out Magenta. But my argument was not complete B.S. as I can assure you, it took us off guard too and we're adapting as good heroes have to do. Just, try not to let it distract you."

"And Aspirant," Valerosa said in a no-nonsense tone, "No reading other people's minds until we say it's time to use powers on each other, okay? If I want to become super strong that's fine, but if I grab someone in here and juggle them without explanation, it's a little rude, okay?"

"Noted," He responded and I could see a light blush of color up his cheeks, "Sorry, Captain."

Again with the Captain thing. I hoped the kid was out of my head now or there might be a wistful envy flare shot up into my consciousness that he couldn't miss.
Regardless of that, it was now my turn to ask a question, "Aspirant, what is that behind your cloak?"

"Oh, this," he reached behind his cloak and pulled out something that looked like a cross between a chrome retro-hair dryer and a sawed off shotgun with a small panel of lit up grids on the side, "I got it from this supervillain I managed to defeat. See, I know there are robots and things out there that I can't use my mental powers on so I figured while I was in the states, this baby would give me some protection against them." He waved it around. "Looks good, huh?"

Within my blood and bone, the ghost of every great uncle who had ever gone hunting cried out in alarm. At least, I could visualize them doing so. I don't really have spirit powers, it's just something that happens in certain Southerner bloodlines mostly due to indoctrination and gun safety lessons being right there behind the ten commandments and slightly ahead of fifteen ways to hide a bottle full of illegally fermented goods.

"Hey, careful waving that thing around," I said looking at the odd thing, "Does that weapon even have a safety?" 

"Actually, I'm not sure," He admitted and touched the side, "I was hoping you guys would have the tech know how to-" And the damn thing went off.
It turned out it was a ray gun capable of projecting a barrage of concussive force energy pulses. I know this because it shot such a pulse at an angle, hitting the ceiling, and somehow, despite being an energy weapon and not your standard launcher of physical projectiles, had enough kickback to slide Aspirant onto his ass and, as the pulses lowered along with his aim, shoved him across the training area. 
As he desperately fumbled for a way to turn the gun off, the rest of us of reacted in our own way. 

Trailblazer was already streaking in seemingly random patterns, which if Aspirant had been aiming for her, might have been a good strategy. However he wasn't really aiming at anyone so odds were still the same of her getting hurt.
"Christ!" Bramble called out, and I saw the bark like material covering her grow and expand out of her hands to form something akin to a make shift tower shield.
"I got this," Hussar declared and flew forward with impressive speed and guts. 

He was, of course, the only one pegged by the damn thing, and as wings don't exactly help you hold your ground (For one is not ON the ground), got swatted like a pigeon hit by a drunk tennis player! A drunk tennis player on steroids at that!
"Get behind me!" went two voices at the same time, and I realized Valerosa and I were the speakers! She could have evaded this by going intangible but, of course, was instead going to provide cover for the most fragile members of the team. 
And while intangibility wasn't an option for me, I also had just gone to meat shield mode. Most 'strong guys' on a team are also the human bulwark types, and we take the punishment that other members of our team can't always handle. It's a weird mindset, but you get into the habit pretty fast.

I realized Valerosa was the better choice for retrieving that weapon, "Go intangible, I got them. You can close."
Valerosa nodded and said to the others "Hussar, get down here and get ready to shield the others, plant your damn feet and brace," And she moved forward shifting to a ghost like state and running as fast as she could towards the telepath yelling "Use both hands and aim it at anywhere people aren't!"

Blam blam blam!
"I'm-" Every third word of Aspirant was cut off by the blasting sound, "- can't hear" Blam blam! "-saying!"
"Bramble, turn that shield into a wall if you can," I directed, then looked at Aspirant and tapped my own head in an exaggerated fashion. Hoping he'd realize I was giving him permission, nay, insisting that he form a telepathic link and fast so we could talk over the noise.

And boy did he.

The first thing I felt was a wave of fear and humiliation. For some reason I figured telepathic contact would be mostly a voice in your head. I had done similar things before, but this was more raw. There was little separating the words from the emotion, and in fact, the emotion came first. These weren't my feelings, they were Aspirant's, but I felt my blood pressure spike and my nerves jangle as if it were my own.

'Stay calm', I thought as hard as I could. You ever intentionally monologue in your head? Most of the time we don't go around with little thought clouds, at least ,I don't, no matter what the comic books of old suggested. Now? I admit, I kind of visualized that happening.  'If it helps, share the fear with me, Valerosa is heading towards you, now don't.. no don't aim where you look' I winced physically and mentally as a blast streaked towards Valerosa.
And I was so grateful when the pulse went clean through her intangible form without harm.

'Sorry, sorry' Aspirant thought at me, 'What do I do?'

'For now, do what she tried to tell you, point it at a wall far away that has no one in the way, now it's going to shove you back, but that's okay or at least manageable' I directed even as more blasts came our way. I stepped in front of one and took a hit that definitely stung but I heard Trailblazer thank me.

Then the pulses shifted as he did as I directed. Sure enough he slid to the left of the far part of the room as he hammered the right with that weapon. I could feel his fear still and yes, he shared it with me. It seemed to give him resolve as he tinkered with the display buttons.

The erratic pulses now came out in a concentrated narrow steam, which I suppose some might see as an improvement. Aspirant was slammed against the far wall.
'Hold it as steady as you can' I told him 'Valerosa is on her way.'

I could feel something new, pain, the pressure was not comfortable and he probably felt like a sumo-wrestler was sitting on his back.
But Valerosa was there, she turned solid from the side, and rather than pushing a button, pulled at a tab causing a battery to fall out.

Aspirant looked relieved, impressed, and a bit embarrassed, "Ah, thank you."

"De Nada," She said and continued to hold out her hand "Give me the gun."

"But," He said, "Killer Robots without minds, squishy telepath."

"Give me the gun," She repeated, slower and no nonsense.

He sighed and handed it (minus the battery, obviously) over, "I figured it would be okay here, I mean, this is America right? When in Rome?"

"Stereotypes are wrong, Aspirant," I said in a firm tone, "It's wrong to judge any group of people by overdone portrayals on television and movies and the like, " then I added, trying not to smile, "Also, this is California and all Californians are avacado sucking hippie peacenicks scared of anything that goes bang." 

A group of chuckles slowly broke out among the trainees and then doubled as my Californian  girlfriend and co-Captain bumped me with an elbow. The joke had diffused the tension, which is actually what I was shooting for.
It worked. 

I have to admit, I was surprised. Despite my best attempts, I am not the funny guy of the team- well, not when I'm trying to be.

"Can we vote on that he never gets to use that thing again?" Bramble asked.

"This is not a democracy," Valerosa says, and looked over the telepath, "Aspirant, we're taking this away now, and going to study it. When we figure out how it works, maybe we'll help you learn how to shoot it. But for now, no raygun for you."

'But I like the gun' came the thought in my head that was not my own. Yup, we were still linked. And I could feel a disappointment. While embarrassed, and scared that it had happened, the endorphins after the even had him realizing it was, after the fact, kind of fun.

Ahem, I thought at him hard, might want to disconnect.

Oh, Shi- and it stopped.

"Sorry about that," He said rubbing the back of his head.

"Sorry won't keep people alive," Valerosa said, but then, it may not have been directed at her. Not that she would realize that, "When you blast, and miss out in the city? Whenever you miss, you risk hitting an innocent."

Aspirant sobered and nodded, "I understand."

Hussar looked bored. Trailblazer looked sympathetic now that the  shooting was over, and Bramble shifted her weight from one foot to the other in what I guessed was nervous energy.

"Okay," I turned to them, "Let's see what the rest of you can do."
 

7 digital libraries you can visit from your couch
 
https://www.cnn.com/2020/04/19/us/digital-libraries-from-your-couch-trnd/index.html
 
 

7 digital libraries you can visit from your couch
 
https://www.cnn.com/2020/04/19/us/digital-libraries-from-your-couch-trnd/index.html
 
 

7 digital libraries you can visit from your couch
 
https://www.cnn.com/2020/04/19/us/digital-libraries-from-your-couch-trnd/index.html
 
 

7 digital libraries you can visit from your couch
 
https://www.cnn.com/2020/04/19/us/digital-libraries-from-your-couch-trnd/index.html
 
 

In such condition there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain, and consequently no culture of the earth, no navigation nor the use of commodities that may be imported by sea, no commodious building, no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force, no knowledge of the face of the earth, no account of time, no arts, no letters, no society, and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death, and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
 
Hobbes; Leviathan

In such condition there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain, and consequently no culture of the earth, no navigation nor the use of commodities that may be imported by sea, no commodious building, no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force, no knowledge of the face of the earth, no account of time, no arts, no letters, no society, and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death, and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
 
Hobbes; Leviathan

In such condition there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain, and consequently no culture of the earth, no navigation nor the use of commodities that may be imported by sea, no commodious building, no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force, no knowledge of the face of the earth, no account of time, no arts, no letters, no society, and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death, and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
 
Hobbes; Leviathan

In such condition there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain, and consequently no culture of the earth, no navigation nor the use of commodities that may be imported by sea, no commodious building, no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force, no knowledge of the face of the earth, no account of time, no arts, no letters, no society, and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death, and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
 
Hobbes; Leviathan

In such condition there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain, and consequently no culture of the earth, no navigation nor the use of commodities that may be imported by sea, no commodious building, no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force, no knowledge of the face of the earth, no account of time, no arts, no letters, no society, and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death, and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
 
Hobbes; Leviathan

I'd have to dig for the books again, but I believe the axes were also for fighting under very specific conditions where other weapons were essentially useless (either in a hyperspatial tube or while inertialess).  It's been a while...

I've read at least one article where "grab 'n go" was the plan...
 
The Ohio restaurant/bar closures are only for 'dine in' - you can still order carry out (for the locations which provide that option).

On the plus side, at least we only do this every 4 years.
 
We have to deal with Christmas every year.

On the plus side, at least we only do this every 4 years.
 
We have to deal with Christmas every year.

On the plus side, at least we only do this every 4 years.
 
We have to deal with Christmas every year.

Like the GOP managed to stop Trump in 2016?
 
I'm certainly not a fan of Sanders, but I strongly suspect he's tapping into the same vein that got us Trump in the first place.
 
People aren't happy with the way things have been and offering "more of the same" isn't going to be a strong contender.  Almost the standard rule of advertising, you have to be offering "NEW! and IMPROVED!" or you're just background noise.
 
Trump is guaranteed neither defeat or victory in 2020, but if the Democrats want to win they're going to have to offer more than "I'm not Donald Trump" as their central campaign theme.  Not being a registered member of either party, I'm just waiting for the Dems to stop playing musical chairs so we can move on to the main event.

Like the GOP managed to stop Trump in 2016?
 
I'm certainly not a fan of Sanders, but I strongly suspect he's tapping into the same vein that got us Trump in the first place.
 
People aren't happy with the way things have been and offering "more of the same" isn't going to be a strong contender.  Almost the standard rule of advertising, you have to be offering "NEW! and IMPROVED!" or you're just background noise.
 
Trump is guaranteed neither defeat or victory in 2020, but if the Democrats want to win they're going to have to offer more than "I'm not Donald Trump" as their central campaign theme.  Not being a registered member of either party, I'm just waiting for the Dems to stop playing musical chairs so we can move on to the main event.

Like the GOP managed to stop Trump in 2016?
 
I'm certainly not a fan of Sanders, but I strongly suspect he's tapping into the same vein that got us Trump in the first place.
 
People aren't happy with the way things have been and offering "more of the same" isn't going to be a strong contender.  Almost the standard rule of advertising, you have to be offering "NEW! and IMPROVED!" or you're just background noise.
 
Trump is guaranteed neither defeat or victory in 2020, but if the Democrats want to win they're going to have to offer more than "I'm not Donald Trump" as their central campaign theme.  Not being a registered member of either party, I'm just waiting for the Dems to stop playing musical chairs so we can move on to the main event.

Like the GOP managed to stop Trump in 2016?
 
I'm certainly not a fan of Sanders, but I strongly suspect he's tapping into the same vein that got us Trump in the first place.
 
People aren't happy with the way things have been and offering "more of the same" isn't going to be a strong contender.  Almost the standard rule of advertising, you have to be offering "NEW! and IMPROVED!" or you're just background noise.
 
Trump is guaranteed neither defeat or victory in 2020, but if the Democrats want to win they're going to have to offer more than "I'm not Donald Trump" as their central campaign theme.  Not being a registered member of either party, I'm just waiting for the Dems to stop playing musical chairs so we can move on to the main event.

Like the GOP managed to stop Trump in 2016?
 
I'm certainly not a fan of Sanders, but I strongly suspect he's tapping into the same vein that got us Trump in the first place.
 
People aren't happy with the way things have been and offering "more of the same" isn't going to be a strong contender.  Almost the standard rule of advertising, you have to be offering "NEW! and IMPROVED!" or you're just background noise.
 
Trump is guaranteed neither defeat or victory in 2020, but if the Democrats want to win they're going to have to offer more than "I'm not Donald Trump" as their central campaign theme.  Not being a registered member of either party, I'm just waiting for the Dems to stop playing musical chairs so we can move on to the main event.

Like the GOP managed to stop Trump in 2016?
 
I'm certainly not a fan of Sanders, but I strongly suspect he's tapping into the same vein that got us Trump in the first place.
 
People aren't happy with the way things have been and offering "more of the same" isn't going to be a strong contender.  Almost the standard rule of advertising, you have to be offering "NEW! and IMPROVED!" or you're just background noise.
 
Trump is guaranteed neither defeat or victory in 2020, but if the Democrats want to win they're going to have to offer more than "I'm not Donald Trump" as their central campaign theme.  Not being a registered member of either party, I'm just waiting for the Dems to stop playing musical chairs so we can move on to the main event.

Thanks for the laugh -- but you're making me miss HC and some of the games we were in even more...

It was all planned and arranged; we had a big farewell party raring to go for those of the New Samaritans that were going to depart to Port Cascade. A huge ass cake shaped like that city's skyline had been made, big enough that everyone would get at least one piece, and the various beverages were chilled. Decorations were slapped up.
 
In less than an hour, it was going to be quite a party. 
 
"Looks good, Mabel," I said, for Mabel had done most of the work. Her database might have been put in a shapely single unit instead of the base itself, but she still had plenty of recipes in her head.It was taking her time to adjust to doing things with her new hands, rather than waldos and other extensions of the headquarters. Every once in a while I caught her cheating, remotely using a waldo as a third (or fourth, or fifth arm) but she gave a warning look daring me to say anything about it, so I didn't.
First of all, because I'm a Southern Gentleman and I show respect to women in my life. Secondly? She was one of the few people in the city who had a chance of putting me through a wall, literally! And she might even feel guilty about it, after all, an hour in the tub and I'd recover from it fine, right?
For all the admiration her form inspired, upon reflection I had to give serious respect to the work done on Mabel's face, and it's capacity for expressions. Her lips, eyes, and even nose gave those tell tale expressions that were as much a part of human communication as words. And never having had a face before, she was betraying her mood more than she knew.
 
She was nervous, possibly scared. But about what?
 
Well, I couldn't claim to relate to having a brand new body, but I could relate to some other things. Maybe it would help.
 
"It's okay to be nervous about a big move, you know," I said, " I was, when I came here. Well, I was also excited, but, you know, despite the fact North Carolina actually does have cities and I get snippy about the 'hayseed' jokes,  Costa Sagrado was still a whole new world for me. I had hopes and dreams about this city and showing folks here what I could contribute, but that made the worries about falling on my face all the more tense. When you're a hero, people rely on you. But you've got what I did, support from a great team, and they are going to help you out and cheer you on, Mabel. You'll be great."
She looked startled, as if wondering where I got telepathic powers from, then gave as close to a blush as possible given her surface tone didn't change color, "I swear I will get the hang of having a face instead of just a display image and a voice. Gave myself away, huh?"
"Enough clues that I felt comfortable guessing," I admitted, "Nothing to be ashamed of. You've always been a part of the team, you know? You even saved my ass more than once by remote piloting."
 
"But there's nothing remote about it now," Brazen nodded, miming taking a breath, "I'm putting this beautiful body into the thick of it, and it's all me, baby. That is a bit intimidating. I would be lying to say I wasn't scared, both of screwing up, and by experiencing real pain. Maybe I'm a wimp and don't know it?"
 
"Ffftt," I scoffed, "You've faced dangers before, intruders that would have tried to dismantle you, threats to the city that you were in, and more. I've got faith in you. Besides, you want this. Like I did. I think that drive is stronger than your fear."
"You know," She said with a fond look, "You're not bad at pep talks. Might serve you well in this co-Captain thing."
"Thanks," I said, flattered, "I hope so."
"And I really think it was nice how you shared your own feelings about coming here. I can just imagine you, coming to  Costa Sagrado for the first time, full of excitement, and hope, wishing you could be... part of our world."
I grinned at the memory, "Yeah, it was something and I-" I caught on and groaned, "Really?  Little Mermaid jokes after I opened up to you?"
Mabel gave a giggle, "Well, you were trying to make me feel better, think of this as helping because I do feel better?" 
I rolled my eyes, "Sure, sure, I'll take it as a win," then I looked her over, "Glad it does."
"Thanks. This new body is already like a big move, now another one is coming up, there are so many things I want to do, I barely know where to start. Not just heroing, though that's a part of it," She said handing me a cold beer, "Things having a feeling body can offer."
"Sun on your face, wind in your hair," I raised the beer in a toast to that, "A nice soak in a hot tub, oh yeah, it's very nice," I started to drink.
"And Sex," Brazen said, "I'm really curious about sex. I've been studying."
I can breathe water, not beer. So I choked as the local brewer's best went down the wrong pipe.
 
"What?" She said, "You're surprised?" 
"No, I guess, it's just-" I coughed again then said, "I had a slightly conservative upbringing."
"You're a prude when it comes to women talking about it?" She raised a brow. Again, amazing expressive capability.
"Yes," I said with a nod, "I am old fashioned and prudish in some very hypocritical areas. Please forgive me, I'm just a man."
"Oh, Caleb," She fussed, "I am so let down. I thought we could talk as peers. You're dating one of my best friends and thus are totally off limits, so I figured we could talk. Maybe you could answer some questions about your own biological experiences?"
I wondered if I could hit our own little version of the trouble alert without Brazen picking up on it. Where the hell were the other women of the team? 
I answered honestly, I was a grown, emotionally mature, adult man, I could do this, "Speaking just for myself, it's great but ultimately, without emotional empathy? It's only half of banquet and you'll never know what you're missing until you find a special someone to-"
Then the Alert did come on. 
There was an emergency.
"Oh thank God," I blurted without thinking.
 

Of course ,superheroing being what it is, at least one bit of advice was sprinkled liberally during a fight. Superheroes, and heck, supervillains, can be a talkative bunch. Banter is part and parcel of the exchange. There were strong silent types to be sure, but try as I might, I never ascended to those stoic ranks.
 
My grandpappy had once advised that it was better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than open your mouth and remove all doubt. Good advice.
Wish I could bring myself to follow it.
 
"Can you believe this guy?" I asked on the com as I traded blows with XTC. The villain hadn't taken his name based on some drug craze, the initials actually stood for 'Extreme Terror and Carnage', "And when we met, you thought Eel was a bad name."
 
Viewpoint and I were not friends actually, though I liked who he had become, I just hadn't put in the time to really befriend him like I did the original team. That said, it had occurred to me that if I was going to be a co-captain for him and the others, I might want to start being a bit more social with him; so when a standard patrol came up for Viewpoint, I went with him.
 
As big a dry spell we'd had recently, neither of us was expecting an actual supervillain, not even one with dubious taste in code names.
"Still not crazy about it, Eel," Viewpoint lowered his shades needlessly to blast the villain with beams of pure energy, "But yeah, XTC does smack of trying way too hard. Though I give the guy credit for one thing. He does not want to stay down."
 
XTC was strong, not as strong as me, but strong, fairly tough. His real power seemed to be hyper-recuperation. No sooner did you think you had him on the ropes, when the guy would spring up ready to go again. I had punched him a distance of at least twenty feet three times now and each time he got up like some weird Scrappy-Doo with the body of a Pro Wrestler throw away to come up again.
Viewpoint's powers were proving about as effective as my muscle. Which is to say, quite handy to knocking him down, frustrating for keeping him down. 
 
"Yeah, this is getting farcical," I said, "Mind Shearing this George?" George was not Viewpoint's name, and in fact, had I said that loud enough to be heard, it wouldn't have betrayed much of anything. A lot of Lady Obsidian's battle commands were based on famous Jazz Musicians. Okay, famous in jazz circles. I had to look some of these guys up, but in a nutshell George Shears was a blind jazz pianist of English birth. The code ward was a clue to neutralize your foe's senses, if you could.
Viewpoint? Viewpoint could!
 
"On it," And he motioned XTC towards him in the universal gesture of 'come get some'. XTC needed no prompting!
"You think I'm a joke? You will respect me!" And he charged towards Viewpoint. 
 
If it seemed like we were taking XTC lightly and that he might have a right to protest, well, not really. I learned long ago that even rookie villains could get lucky, pulling stunts not in their best interest where a pro would  show a bit more savvy.  Viewpoint was taking a chance here, and unlike myself, he was not blessed with enhanced durability against physical trauma. This didn't go right, XTC could get a lucky slam into him and cave in a rib at the very least.
 
Once again, Viewpoint's eyes flared, this time with an immense brightness I knew better than to look into myself. XTC didn't realize he should take similar precautions, and he clutched at his face!
 
"Mother @#$#er, I'm blind!" He snarled.
 
See, this is how I knew XTC wasn't a professional villain. Not the cursing, that varies a lot. It was the announcing his new vulnerability for both of us to hear. I mean, I knew that was the case anyway, that was the plan after all, but calling your weaknesses out is a very rookie move.
The blinding only caused XTC to veer a little off course, but with his arms out stretched like that he still might clip Viewpoint with all the power of a runaway pickcup truck. Fortunately, I wasn't slacking on my side of the job.
 
I had already started moving towards him even as the blast went off, and interposing myself between XTC and Viewpoint, I tackled the former to the ground. Not only am I stronger, XTC had no proper balance when I collided into him. He went down like a sack of wet cement from a hard drop! 
 
"Cheating son of a -" He grunted as I put him in a full nelson and pinned his unseeing face into the street. 

"Careful now," I warned as I held him, "You really want to insult the mother of the man who's got you in this kind of grip?" 
 
Not really caring what his answer was, I said to Viewpoint "We got an ETA on when the Authorities with the suppressors will be here?"
Viewpoint looked at me startled, "You didn't call it in?"

"No," I said surprised, "I figured it would be a given with-" And I realized my mistake. Mabel wasn't on the Com. She was not the omnipresent, ever reliant and always on the clock A.I. anymore. She was now sporting a new body and plugged into our coms when she wanted to be. In short, she had a life.

"Damn," I muttered, "Sorry, Viewpoint."
 
"Don't apologize to me, feel sorry for yourself. It can take up to an hour for folks to get here with the right gear and ah, I ain't holding him, you are," Viewpoint pointed out.
 
I made a face, "Well, sloppy of me. Talk about rookie moves." Even as I made the call.
 
"It's not a rookie move at all," Viewpoint corrected me, "It's habit, and that's a sign of established patterns. It's your experience actually working against you."
 
"Yeah," I said pondering exactly how long I could hold onto XTC. I was stronger, but given this guy's near inexhaustible stamina, I could be feeling a bit tired before the authorities showed. Then again, I once held up a building long enough to evacuate, so I'd probably be okay, "I suppose you have a point." I grunted.
 
Mind you, despite being so close to XTC, at most he was hearing a mumble. Our com systems had a sub harmonic thing going for security reasons.
 
Viewpoint re-positioned himself, getting a clear shot to blast the contained villain without hitting me if he need to, and continued, "You mind if I give you my viewpoint?" A weak smile. His play on his own hero name had been used in numerous commercials. He'd cut down on it when he became a legit hero, but the fact he used it now was kind of guy code for guiding me into something more serious. A little self depreciation as a way to soften what might be hard words.
 
I spocked a brow at him, "Go ahead."
 
"You're gonna have to change things up," He advised me, "You've got a new team forming under you, not just Slime, Pogo and me either."
"I know that," I started to say, when abruptly XTC tried to flip me off! No, not a rude gesture, he bucked trying to break my grip on him hoping I got distracted.
 
I made some cracks in the granite by whamming his head against it delicately, "Stop that," I told him out loud, "or I'm going to get annoyed."
XTC groaned, then cursed, but he held still.
 
"I know that," I repeated to Viewpoint wondering where he was going with this, "I hope to guide the rookies in easy."
"Different people, different team," Viewpoint continued, "You're not Lady Obsidian."
"Gee, thanks," I said feeling oddly challenged by the obvious statement.
 
"You try to be her, you're going to flop. More importantly, these rookies aren't the crew you're used to. It's not just the whole social dynamic that's different, it's the components that make up the whole."
 
Pretty fancy talk from a guy who used to sell burgers on TV, I thought, but I told him, "I've already gotten the every hero has their own baggage talk from Lady O."
 
He nodded, then shook his head, the later catching me off guard, "Good, but not exactly what I mean. I'm talking about your baggage and their baggage all having to share the same cargo space. You've got your character flaws, and you need to own up to yourself about them so you can compensate for their flaws that will hit those buttons. This is going make the team different, make requirements different, and I dont' mean powerwise."
 
"You know, Viewpoint, given your own past history, I'm not sure you get to judge people," I said a bit testy. I had felt unsure about teaching as it was, and this wasn't helping my concerns.

Without lifting his arms, he held up hands in a no harm no foul intended motion, "Trust me, I get the hypocrisy involved here. You got the mote, I got the beam," he said using biblical terminology which surprised me. I guess I never thought of him as religious, and maybe he wasn't, but clearly he knew enough to borrow the metaphors, "But right now, I'm responsible for me, and whatever team mate I'm with at the time, you're going to be leading and teaching 24/7 more or less, or at least on call for the same. Higher stakes, higher standards. And also, you got to consider the ego conflict of being an echo."
 
I blinked, that last part had totally thrown me, "The ego conflict of being an echo?"
 
"Sorry, went through a period of a lot of self help books," He chuckled, "You know celebrities, we go through fad enlightenment like most people go through diet plans. What I'm trying to say is-" His eyes darted to the once again squirming XTC "Pardon, mind if I chip in?"
 
"Gonna tear you apart!" XTC tried to lunge.
 
"Oh go ahead," I said, "I'm feeling a bit conflicted about slamming this moron while he's 'technically' helpless. It sends a wrong message to any kids watching."
 
Viewpoint's energy gaze hit with amazing accuracy avoiding my arms and catching XTC with a strike that dazed him. 
"Thanks," I took the brief moment to reposition, hoping that the guys would get here soon, "You were saying?"
 
"What I'm trying to say," He resumed, "is that you do well to take what you learned and observed from Lady O about being a teacher and a leader, but if you try to be her, you'll just be an echo at best, and that's gonna eat away at your ego. And like wise, if you  exepct these kids to be Pinprick, Tornado, and Arctic Fox next gen? They won't compare even when they don't screw up. They'll just be echos."
"Don't you think they should be so lucky to be half as good as some of the others that we know?" I said, kind of sticking up for my friends, but trying to keep an open mind
.
"Young bloods don't settle for that, and when they do, it can turn into a lot of self loathing fast. That's a lot of maturity to ask of anyone. When I was a kid? You think I didn't want to be the good guy? Like Mr. Mega or Tour D. Force? You don't want what happened to me happen to these rookies."
 
"You" I said cautiously, "You're a good man now, and a good superhero."
 
"yeah, but before that I deliberately confused selfishness with wisdom and cynicism with insight, largely because I grew to resent trying and failing to emulate the greats so I just told myself they were fools and I was a fresh and happening new type of hero being a rebel."
I was curious, it's hard to feel attacked when you realize someone is at least as hard on themselves as you, "Why do you think that was?"
"Because, after a time of trying to climb on the top of the pedestal to join the idol you put up there, time and time again, slipping, falling, then trying and failing again to reach it," Viewpoint looked thoughtful, "After a time you just want to knock it over instead. It's small, it's petty, but it's human."
 
It was good advice, and I get why he was saying it. Not to but in on my or Ariana's soon to be authority, but because he wanted to spare those kids the same mistakes he had fallen into. And maybe spare me as well. But the reminder I would have my own baggage, while not his emphasis, was also valued.
 
"What do you think my flaws are?" And I slipped, asking out loud feeling oddly introspective for a moment.

"You're a candy ass suck up to the authority of the status quo!" XTC managed to arch a leg up to kick me in the back, dislodging me enough to turn my full nelson into a half nelson. Half was enough for me to hang on as he tried to rise.
 
Rather than settling for reestablishing a full grip, I took my free left hand and hammered the soon to be uglier side of XTC's profile with several rapid fire punches, "SHUT THE THE HELL UP!" I said , a punch with each syllable "AND STAY THE HELL DOWN OR I WILL BEAT THE LIVING #$#$# OUT OF YOU AND SEE IF YOU REGENERATE TEETH!"
 
Finally, XTC went limp with a groan.
 
"Well, for one thing," Viewpoint observed, staring at the bruised villain in my grip, "When pushed too far for too long you have an angry mean streak."
 
I had to raise a brow, "What makes you think that?"
 
But the authorities finally arrived, and  I guess Viewpoint didn't think he had time to answer.