"Identifying your gender does much less work in finding who you are than narrowing down your age, which the Wards membership does on its own," Chevalier points out.

"...no, it's not that. My cape identity is nonbinary. My non-cape identity is genderfluid."

"...I don't follow you."

"Sometimes I'm a boy."

"With the mask, I'm neither."

"Why—never mind, I'll talk to Branding about it."

They continue filling in the form, the gender part being ironically enough the only one they leave blank.

And Chevalier takes back the paper and says that Glam can go home and get some sleep, or crash in one of the empty dorm rooms, and the Branding lady will be in at eight in the morning.

"Critical condition, not dead yet."

They exhale in relief. "Okay. Thank you. I... think I'm going to check one of the rooms out."

The robot lifts off their shoulder, silently offering to lead the way. Chevalier looks at it and chuckles softly.

They smile and follow the robot.

The robot shows them a dorm room. It's pretty nice, if plain.

What does it contain beyond a bed?

There is a desk and a lamp and a wastebasket and a minifridge and a Wards Regulations Handbook and a chair and an ensuite bathroom with rather generic amenities.

The bot lands on their shoulder again.

They pet the bot again as they leave. "Are you sure I can't keep you? You're adorable."

"Lorica might make you a bot but not this design," says the bot.

"Why not?"

"It's not what I'm for."

"What are you for?"

"I'm part of the patrol support flock and perform generic colocation/attention expansion functions."