"Can't hurt to think about it.  If you're D-rank, you can still be a professional snuggler, pilot, nuclear reactor technician, that sort of thing.  If you're a sensor, they'll bend over backwards to accommodate you.  If you've got a a combat or support power, your whole life might change."  He's a little melancholy.  He alternates between staring through the back of April's head and looking at the muted video to get the braid just right.  It's pretty difficult from this angle, which is perfect for Tim's brain right now.

What should I have done differently, aside from almost everything?

"Important to pick a good," slow breath, "agency and partner." Slow breath. "True for any esper."

"You don't owe," slow breath, "anyone anything." Slow breath. "You can always leave."

"Don't need to be," slow breath, "a dungeoneer or a," slow breath, "professional partner."

"You can drive to," slow breath, "remote areas. Or babysit." Slow breath. "You always have choices," slow breath, "don't forget that. Or," slow breath, "just work a regular job."

Tim stares at his hands as they work.  Even if my power let me...could I really just be some guy again?  Not like I'm Skybreaker or anything, right?  Or even one of the medium names.  But could I really just let those nine people stay crippled?  Two of them combat espers?  No.  I couldn't.  He shakes his head a little bit.  "I don't think I could go back.  But, that's just me.  We don't know what your power will wind up being."  Man, this is the worst braid I've seen in my life.

"Nothing stopping you from scrapping what you have going and starting over," a sleepy Jamie adds. "Espers can go practically anywhere." 

Tim doesn't say anything, but he looks like somebody just drop-kicked his puppy.  Then he starts undoing the braid so he can start it over again.  Better, this time.

"...man," she realizes, "if I get a hair colour change I'm gonna have to grow all this out again..."

Parabola has to resist the urge to laugh. It would hurt her ribs!

"You can get," slow breath, "special esper hair dye." Slow breath. "I know good people." Smile.

Get your shit together, Tim.  "What makes it so special?"

"Color matching. Some," slow breath, "espers have different," slow breath, "hair different places. Like," slow breath, "one color in front," slow breath, "one color in back."

"It's less the dye," slow breath, "and more the stylist. Sorry."

"That makes sense.  Uh, what makes an agent good?"

"A good agent," slow breath, "has your best interests," slow breath, "at heart. Not what," slow breath, "will make them," slow breath, "the most money. But also," slow breath, "has your long-term," slow breath, "interests at heart." Slow breath. "They want what will," slow breath, "make you happy."

"This means they are," slow breath, "proactive. They try to get you," slow breath, "opportunities you'd," slow breath, "like. For me," slow breath, "I like dancing. Performing."

"But also not," slow breath, "asskissers? Sorry, I mean..." slow breath, "sycophantic. Like..." slow breath, "I don't want to say parent." Slow breath. "But...my first agency...they didn't want me to," slow breath, "do anything that wasn't," slow breath, "dungeoneering. Anything," slow breath, "not that was useless. 'Cause," slow breath, "that's what espers do, right?" Slow breath. "But also 'cause," slow breath, "dungeoneering makes," slow breath, "the most money."

"My second agency," slow breath, "was the opposite. Always," slow breath, "tried to give me," slow breath, "what I wanted. Said I wanted. Better, but," slow breath, "it's also a doctor's," slow breath, "job to tell you what," slow breath, "isn't good for your health." Slow breath. "So I thought the things," slow breath, "I was asking for were," slow breath, "good ideas. And they weren't." Slow breath.

"You want an," slow breath, "agency that...my friend would put it as," slow breath, "optimize over your nth order preferences". She resists the urge to laugh, and makes a big smile instead. "Basically, it gives you truly want," slow breath, "not just what you say you want." Slow breath. "And tells you when," slow breath, "it's not a good idea."

"Does that make sense?"

"I mean it makes sense but it has me questioning if there's an agency like that out there, anywhere, at all."

"Great Pacific has been," slow breath, "really good for me, but," slow breath, "it's very...Particular? Has a culture."

"Very...LA influencer. You know?" Slow breath. Good because," slow breath, "they specialize in," slow breath, "performers, influencers, models," slow breath, "that kind of stuff. I get," slow breath, "good dancing gigs. But if," slow breath, "you don't want to be a star," she would punctuate this with jazz hands but she is Not Moving right now and instead tries to instill that into her tone, "or don't want to be Famous Tee-Em," slow breath, "not so good. If you," slow breath, "want to be on," slow breath, "the cover of Vogue, good!" Slow breath. "One of my coworkers," slow breath, "got on GQ."

"You should," slow breath, "try talking to," slow breath, "espers who joined or left," slow breath, "an agency you want to join." Slow breath. "And why. It's public," slow breath, "information. On databases. Don't," slow breath, "just sign with the first one," slow breath, "or the one with lowest rates."

Tim pauses his braiding operation.  Buster Keaton, he is not.  It's clear to anyone who can see his face that he's thinking, and he's not really thrilled.  But it's equally obvious that he's not really in a chatty mood at the moment.

Hmm.

Parabola would notice except for how she has her eyes closed right now.

At this point someone Tim will recognize is rolled up, one ankle wrapped in medical tape with writing on it which she is trying to take a photo of. She is helped out of the wheelchair and sits inside the circle with her injured leg stretched partway out in front of her.

She thankfully notices Jaime seems to be trying to sleep and lowers her voice a little "Hey Aumento. I stepped in a hole. In my defense it was really dark in there." She hasn't forgotten Tim's wallet name she just has a pretty strong prior of not using other espes' wallet names in public without permission. "At least I got Uisa's autograph. Actually can somebody help me take a photo? I'm not supposed to move this ankle and I want a proper selfie with it."

"I could...?" Sean is pretty solidly the most mobile of this little crowd - but, "Oh right, I don't have my phone because no phones in the superpowers pit."

She has to spend willpower not to laugh, again.

"Once we're healed," slow breath, "I can do it. I'm good at," slow breath, "taking phone pictures."

"Also, I didn't," slow breath, "realize that was Uisa! I was," slow breath, "really out of it. Wish," slow breath, "I got one too." Sad!

"Who's Uisa?"

"Healing esper over there." She tries to point with her eyes. It isn't very effective.

"Really famous." Well, famous if you keep track of esper society, which Parabola does. "From," slow breath, "Korea. Really good power."

"She took care," slow breath, "of me."

"Yeah, she's probably like, the best healer in the world right now. And thank you. I'm Kuroko, who are you? Oh, and I should hand over this phone so I'm not tempted I guess."

"The stealth esper! Hello!" Slow breath. "I'm Parabola."

"Ooooo, you've heard of me!...Sorry I'm a bit backlashed right now. My partner is being carted around the city doing sensoring."

"I'd say 'try me' but I'm running out of free hands. ...I'm awakening and want all the guiding I can get. Hi, I'm April."