Sadde and Bell in Worm
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"Okay. So you were prepping something to take out Mincemeat, you grabbed the wrong gun, you devoutly hope he makes a full recovery, they will probably pressgang you into the Wards if they let you evade trial but I wouldn't say it's too unlikely."

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Exhale. "I do devoutly hope he makes a full recovery. I didn't mean to shoot him, he was just a drug dealer, I don't even agree with drug laws."

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"Mention that if it looks like they aren't buying it, otherwise this is a bad time to go into your disagreement with various laws."

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Sigh. Nod.

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"Last minute questions?"

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Headshake.
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"You okay to fly?"

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Hover. Nod.

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Lorica leads the way.

Behold: Brockton Bay Protectorate HQ.
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Brockton Bay Protectorate HQ: is Beheld.

Slight shudder.
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A bot lands on Glam's shoulder and sort of snuggles up to their neck, to the extent that a robot can snuggle.

In they go.

Chevalier's waiting, arms crossed forbiddingly.

"I've got Lorica's summary," he tells Glam. "I'd like to hear what happened in your own words."
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Confidence. Self-assuredness. Being slightly shaken for shooting someone it wasn't supposed to be

"I was making something to take on Mincemeat, then I ran into the deal and got the wrong gun. It was supposed to just be a, a stun gun, but then it wasn't. I'm really, really sorry, and I hope he makes a full recovery."
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"Do you have a plan for keeping your guns organized without mistakes in the future?"

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"Yes."

They do, though it's not exactly something they can properly explain without explaining the particulars of their powers.
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"Why didn't you anticipate the need for this plan beforehand?"

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Truth: "Recklessness. Not having properly thought about it." They sound rather embarrassed.

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"Still planning to go after Mincemeat?" asks Chevalier softly.

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Slight wince. "Not anytime soon."

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

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

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"Go on."

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"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."

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

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"Seventeen."

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"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."

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