Sure, she'll go meet Sadde. Assuming she doesn't hear anything sketchy nearby, of course.

No sketchiness. "Hi! How've you been?"

"Good. You?"

"Good, too! I got a job. It's boring and menial but works while I study to try to get into university."

"Ooo."

"Yeah." He has some non-stolen food! "That one guy I told you about—Hollister, dunno if I said his name, his last name is 'Avenue' and he says his friends call him Hook-up Hollister but I think that's probably what he wants his friends to call him—got me the job, and I said I was helping a friend out—I didn't tell him about you specifically or where I was going or where you lived—and he's been helping me get stuff. I... don't know if food is the best way to help but it's, you know, everyone eats, so."

"...met, Hollister. Couple days ago. Uh." She takes the food with an automatic 'thank you' and continues thinking.

"Oh? He's cool. How'd you meet?"

"The tower?" she gestures in the Defined Tower's general direction. "He was, helping the girl who put up the... art, and there was a Picasso; I went to, get them out. First superheroing," she grins.

"...someone went to the Defined Tower and put art there? That's so cool! And, congrats on the superheroing!"

Yes, she's very pleased with herself, but then she goes back to thinking. "Told them, about the power - had to - and they're worried about more, capes, villains. Told him how to find me, to prove... it, for bosses. Dunno what happens if you, tell him you, know me too."

"Hm... Like I said, Hollister is cool. He actually, you know, cares about people, he got his job at Orientation because he figured that'd be a good way to help folks, get to know them, get them up and running when the world throws them a curve ball like this. I don't think anything—bad would happen? I just, you seemed to not want me to talk about you to other people, so I didn't."

Nod. "Please don't."

She sighs. "Hollister... seems, okay? But... might," deep breath, "hurt, me, and think it helps. So."

"Yeah... that makes sense. For what it's worth, though, if you—tell him, or ask him directly about something, I'm pretty sure he'll listen. 'Least that's the vibe I got off him."

"Maybe. But it's - very bad if not."

"Bad how?"

"Before here, I, escaped, from an institution."

"—oh. Like—mental institution of sorts?"

"Yeah."

"People don't... know, how, bad... they are. Very. Not, the kids; the staff. I-" she goes vacant for a moment, swaying precipitously, and then comes back to herself a bit and sits on the floor.

He sits, too. "I'm sorry."

She's quiet, staring at the far wall.

He waits to see if she'll say anything.

"Was going to... go back," she says after a few minutes. "Rescue other kids. Glad, there's a, copy, to do that. Wonder who'll... die, break, worse, before she's ready, but, always, wondered that."

"Ready? You mean you don't think she'll do it until something like that happens?"

"We're fifteen. And it's... not a year, yet. Don't know how - what winter needs. Gotta know, how to take care, ourselves, before we can, take care of anyone else. Couple years, long time."