"...not so far," they admit. "But the mistakes I've been making mostly revolve around not stopping to think about things and to listen to other people, and acting as if I know better than anyone else. This plan is more along the lines of 'assume Boots knows what he needs better than I do.'"

"...and wants to tell you all about it because we're such good friends."

Glam laughs a bit and shakes their head. "Good point!"

She extends her hand. "Hi. It's nice to meet you. My name's weird."

"We're not such good friends. So we could start with being just friends."

Shrug. Only the barest of the furrows of the brow, because she's getting used to the pain. "Why not?"

"That's not a reason."

"Because I want to. Because I like having friends. Because I think we could be good friends, and I think that might make you happier. Because it'll make me happier."

"I do! What do you like to do, James?"

"Nothing lately. Can't do wrestling anymore. Had to fake an injury."

"Oh. That sucks. I've never wrestled."

"No shit."

She laughs. "That obvious, huh. I mostly like running."

"I can't do that either. Not out of costume, I mean."

"Are there rules about doing that in costume during your free time?"

"There are if the Youth fucking Guard thinks I'm patrolling when they cut down all our hours."

"Wow, that's so fucking dumb. Goddamn pricks."

"Don't have to tell me twice," snorts Boots.

"And of course if we tell them we're not patrolling they don't believe us, 'cause of course they know more about our fucking lives than we do."

"Ah-huh."

"The sea and inland?" blinks Boots.