Slight wince. "Not anytime soon."

"What are you planning, Glam? Where do you see yourself going?"

Pause. "I am in the process of figuring this part out."

"Go on."

"Er."

They tend to be good at verbalizing their thoughts. The problem is, verbalizing their thoughts here is not allowed, and verbalizing a fictional version of them—

"I want to help people. I have a versatile power that has intricacies mostly if not completely worked out and that need thought, such as the one that caused today's—problem." Their voice breaks a little at that word. "Figuring out how to most effectively do the former with the latter is where I'm currently at."

Chevalier sighs. "How old are you, Glam?"

"Seventeen."

"You are... almost exactly... the sort of person the Wards were designed for originally. I should know, I was one of the first. You need... mentoring. Training. Why haven't you already signed up? Velocity gave you the pitch."

"Because I haven't yet figured out if the balance of pros and cons of joining the Wards is the best amongst the options I've considered."

"I'm gonna give you a choice," Chevalier says. "But if you turn me down it's not going to be open again. You can join up now. We can navigate the legalities for you, make sure you don't wind up in prison over mixing up your guns. Or you can leave - and if he presses charges or his family does or the state does, we won't be able to help you. All we'll be able to do is chase you down if you don't turn up for your trial. You can bet that he won't go after you, that his folks are out of the picture, that the state thinks he's expendable, that the jury will like you -" Beat. "I wouldn't bet on it."

Think think. "The list of pros just got an addition to it, didn't it." Think. "I have a question that might sound very aggressive or needlessly hostile or something but I'm not sure how to phrase it otherwise and I'm not even sure if it'd affect my decision, and I don't wanna sound like I'm purposefully butting heads or provoking you."

"I've probably heard worse," Chevalier says.

"Sure, but I'm apparently a prospective—okay, anyway." They shake their head. "Would you have said that you wouldn't bet on it even if you would bet on it but thought that was a good way to get me to join?" Pause. "I'm basically asking if what you just said was the truth or what you believed would be most likely to convince me. One of the items in my cons list was the, I really don't like being managed, and I especially dislike being lied to or misled in the process, well in general, and relationships with other parahumans already tend to be rocky by default, we're not selected for personal compatibility and frequently have particularly combative or otherwise not very amicable personalities because horrible trauma and—um. In the interest of honesty, I was tempted to join, but the thing you said made me want to join less, even as it added a big con to the other options' lists."

"I haven't heard anything new since Lorica told me he was alive upon boarding the ambulance."

"You can have an hour. In this building."

"Yes."

"Okay. Thank you."

Chevalier shows Glam to Lorica's workshop and leaves them alone there.

"Hi."

"...so it kinda went about as well as it could, considering." And they tell her everything that they and Chevalier talked about.