It's the anniversary. Glam would very much not like to celebrate.
It’s their last day on Winslow High—they’re being transferred to Arcadia on Monday—and also their last day without a patrol schedule assigned.
And the PRT released a small announcement on its website about Glam joining the Wards. Now their wiki page doesn’t get erased, of course—they’re no longer speculative. They wonder what it’s got on them.
"Sorry! I didn't expect it to be that bad! Is it broken? Should we go to the infirmary?"
Boots, being particularly disadvantaged at dealing with Rewind in particular, puts his mask on and otherwise stays put.
Lorica goes up to her, a couple of bots hovering overhead. "What are you turning yourself in for?"
"Honestly because the alternatives are dancing to that fucker Lung's tune" she pronounces it 'loong' "or running from him forever, and he's way too murderous for my tastes. I don't actually want to turn in, though. Don't you guys make deals? I never even did a lot of bad stuff, I wanna join up, if it'll keep him away. Oh, you guys've been calling him Fireball, by the way."
"Lung, okay. He's been trying to get you to work for him?"
"You may not remember but after you guys knocked me out," and she shoots Glam a venomous look, making them grin, "he grabbed me and took me with him. I had to pretend I was going along."
"Well, after we have stood here for ten minutes we can take you to the Director."