She followed Terminal down another long stretched out corridor, while the layout wasn’t confusing, Juniper felt disoriented by the circular architecture, Terminal led the way with casual ease, stopping only when they reached a heavy door. He pushed it open, ignoring the suited individuals walking by.

  He gave her a soft smile, gestured for her to get inside. She did so, with caution. Inside the room, dozens of eyes were latched onto Juniper. She entered reluctantly, and a large group of people sat waiting eagerlyFor her?

  Her shoulders shrunk.

  She wanted to turn back at the last second and hide behind the massive doors. Terminal shut the door behind them, his expression was unreadable under his messy bangs. She moved behind him, pretending to stroll into the room, The tactic was to try to hide behind him, except he was slightly shorter than she was.

  She’d peek out like an ostrich.

  Most of the faces were very familiar. Three particular people stood out completely. Strangers to her. A few looked pleased to see her, the others…not so much. Interest, disinterest, some neutrality.

  She froze up, her nerves twitching.

  [Say something, or they'll assume you're mute. Or worse, a mime.]

  She had a lump in her throat that she was absolutely sure would cause her to croak at any moment. Can’t she just walk out of here? Get on her scooter and never come back.

  [No escape now.]

  “…G-good morning?” she forced out.

  The response was…underwhelming, a few murmured her obligatory greetings, but most didn’t bother. Those that did speak, spoke over each other, voice blurring and humming like two mismatched radios. She had never seen so many capes in one room before, she felt ‘threatened’ by their presence. Even though none of them have even lifted a finger

  “Please, Juniper, feel free to take a seat,” Evelyn said, gesturing to the long table. A suggestion that felt more like a command.“This is our briefing room, capes only, of course.”

  She snailed towards the chair, body scrunched up stiff, hyperaware of everyone’s breathing in the room. Her ears heard it all, annoyed grunts, deep breaths, and at least one snort.

  And underneath the mouth breathing were whispers.

  “You never said she was this meek, Francesca.” The voice had a playful angle. Dark lips, pigtails, pale foundation, and a smirking mouth—Juniper didn’t like the look of her. Whilst she appeared gothic, just almost, her expression put her on the edge. She had the aura of a mean girl.

  “She’s not meek, Morrigan. Just shy.” Francesca’s reply was curt and assertive.

  Juniper, who was already tense, was on the verge of shaking. Hearing people nearly openly speak about her behind her back, irked her. Even her siblings had the decency to at least openly say what they thought about her in front of her. But she needed to get it through her head, she wasn’t at home.

  Francesca was kind at least. Too kind, but Juniper chalked it up to her personality.

  “Hmm, perhaps I’ve found a new dress-up toy,” Morrigan murmured, tilting her head. “Since Annemarie left my grasp.”

  [Just another freak, Jun. May I suggest asserting your dominance with a death stare.]

  Francesca shot her gothic friend a glare. “She has you moron. She can probably hear you from across the building.”

  Morrigan pressed a hand to her lips in mock surprise. “Oh, dear. How ” She flashed Juniper a wide, stretching smile—one that went a bit too far for comfort, predatory.

  Barely a minute in, and her supposed senior was already threatening to haze her or use her…It reminded her of high-school, just vaguely. She always stood out, and was kept out of ingroups and cliques

  [The start of a toxic work environment; buckle up buckaroo]

  “Juniper, if you, can introduce yourself briefly?” Evelyn’s voice pulled her out of her mental session. “Just your name and why you’re here.”

  .

  [Just keep it brief.]

  She exhaled sharply. Drawing in some locked-away energy from within.

  “I’m Juniper or M-Mimicry, my cape name, f-for now, I guess. And as for why I’m here…” She hesitated, then glanced at a closed-eyed Annemarie. “I… got roped into this.”

  A slow turn of heads. Very awkwardly lingering and all landing on Annemarie.

  She stopped chewing her gum, the bubble she formed popping, looking vaguely annoyed. She started scowling and everyone turned away.

  “Hmm—what, no aspirations? No, I wanna break the skulls of criminals I find on the street. Not even a tragic backstory? Share a little, would you?.” A man leaned forward, dressed in what looked like a bird-themed onesie. Complete with fake feathers on the arms. The sheer ridiculousness of it made her do a double take.

  “Yeah, come on, Ms. Pinewell,” Morrigan added, practically dripping with overenthusiastic amusement. “First impressions matter, after all! This is team-building.”

  “I believe Juniper’s just pragmatic, I can relate to that” John, the metal-clad swordsman, spoke for the first time. His voice was cool and level-headed. “No need to force her into something she doesn’t want to.”

  Morrigan pouted dramatically and became all giddy “Aww, but I wanna know how she got her powers! Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”

  “No, no, no.” Francesca cut in, voice on the edge. “Morrigan, that’s personal. Drop it.”

  Evelyn leaned back in her chair, fingers idly tapping against the desk, neither stopping them nor encouraging them. For a leader of an organization, she was surprisingly lax and passive. Or was this the game she chose to play?

  Juniper swallowed. If she had to get this over with, she’d do it her way. No need to amuse them the less they knew the better.

  “…I got hit by a car on the way to the grocery store. Landed in the hospital, woke up with powers.”

  A pause.

  [Oh, you’re gonna it? You were literally yanked by the closest thing to cosmic destiny and thrown into the deep end. But sure, car go bonk.]

  Morrigan barely held back a childish giggle. The big man next to her, however, looked entirely unamused.

  “Really? Car accident, huh?” Morrigan mused. “That’s kinda… lame. No marks, you got any scars I can see.”

  Juniper’s teeth clenched. This

  “It’s supposed to be a traumatic event, you Not a joke,” Francesca snapped. It calmed her at least knowing someone looked out for her.

  “Oh, calm down Franny. I’m just trying to get to her.” Morrigan rolled her eyes. “I got my powers after I orgasmed during an earthquake. My future life flashed before my eyes. I was pinned against–”

  A wave of groans rippled through the room, cutting her off. The way she expressed it, made it seem that she fabricated responses constantly. Like she unloaded regularly.

  A few faces slapped, and the big man turned up his nose. Terminal looked briefly confused, but she a lit-up fire in his eyes. Calculating, accessing, working out the mathematics of the event.

  Even Evelyn pressed two fingers to her temple.

  [ ( ??? )y that’s a thing I know now]

  Juniper, meanwhile, was trying to pretend she hadn’t heard that. What didn't bother her couldn’t make her worry? Who cares how some hedonistic bitch got her abilities. She couldn’t compare, her legs were broken, she whisked from the whip of death just barely.

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  A man—the big man—stood up. He strode over, extending a large, calloused hand toward her.

  “Ms. Juniper,” he said with stoic and rigorous effort. “Name’s Brutus. Persona non Grata I keep my personal life out of cape affairs.”

  She took it. His handshake was firm but not crushing. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” She did her best to formal because that was the vibe he gave up.

  Was that thing? Could she do that, did Evelyn keep that from her. No. It would a “you never asked, so I never brought it” discussion. She’d have to live with it. They were only a handful of souls in the room.

  She nodded, doing her best to erase the last thirty seconds from her memory. “Likewise, sir.”

  Brutus turned to Evelyn. “Commander, I’m a minute over my clock. No overtime today. I’m off.”

  Evelyn nodded, and just like that, he left. Was he running away, from the awkward group topic in the room? Was this too Juvenile for him? The guy in the bird onesie propped his feet up on the table, looking bored out of his mind. Slippers. He was wearing full-on slippers at ‘work.’

  Evelyn coughed lightly. “Right. That went completely off track.” She swept her gaze across them. “Everyone, introduce yourselves. Cape names only. Let’s keep it brief. Give Juniper something to work with.”

  One by one, they went around the table. Pointing and shifting.

  “Titania,” Francesca said.

  “Metal Ronin,” John followed.

  “Voidwaltzer, but you already know that,” Annemarie said.

  “This is Terminal,” Evelyn added, nodding to the boyish figure beside her.

  Then, she pointed at the goth.

  “Morrigan,” she purred. “Pleasure to meet you, Juniper. I do hope we’ll have lots of fun together.”

  [Keep her away. Recommend maintaining a six-foot perimeter and carrying a spray bottle]

  “You may call me Praemor,” the bird/eagle onesie guy grunted, looking like he cared approximately zero fucks about being here. His attire said everything. He had special privileges, his power likely tied into it.

  Evelyn exhaled. “This is Battle group C, Juniper.”

  “C?” she echoed.

  “There are more elusive members,” Evelyn said smoothly. “And at least two more groups under my command. You’ll meet them if and when it becomes necessary. They operate differently, if you can everyone here, they are known to do the more morally questionable things, this group wouldn’t.”

  The atmosphere tensed up at their mention. Looks like a canned topic for miserable times. Francesca tightened at this visibly disturbed.

  “These are the people you’ll be working with, on and off” Evelyn continued. “For the foreseeable future.”

  Juniper studied them.

  Battlegroup C not the first, not the second. What did that make them? The Brutus dude just left without A care. Which means Evelyn either didn’t have much sway or control, or he was respected enough to dictate what he wanted. Francesca kept things stable by the looks of. Morrigan was being tolerated, not respected. And Evelyn, her boss, was judging without interfering. A weak link? A leader at all? Or, just an organizer.

  Most were tolerable. Francesca, John, Brutus. Terminal seemed okay, he needed some socialization lessons, but she was the last person who needed to offer them.

  Annemarie? Tolerable, and shared history. She had ‘sapphic’ affections for Juniper, and she displayed them in all the most questionable manners.

  Praemor? Weird. He was wearing a fucking onesie, It unnerved her.

  Morrigan? Hell no. A predator of some kind, better not try to dissect her at all.

  Best not dwell on it any further. Get to know if she was to.

  “Truth is, this team resembles a PR group more than anything else, you do the goody two-shoe stuff when everyone is looking,” Evelyn went on. “Others… do what needs to be done.”

  More silence.

  Annemarie looked like she wanted to kick the wall open. “Big Sis, can I go now? You did your awkward team-building thing. It failed. Right away”

  Evelyn looked emotionless as they listened to her. “Alright, you got to meet her. Anybody who wants to do something else, please fuck off.”

  Almost everyone walked off. No one out of by her informal use of language.

  Annemarie strolled out with a knowing glance, she winked at Juniper but didn’t look amused. Terminal just looked thrilled to be included, but he stood up as well. Francesca came around and gave Juniper a squeeze and a tugging hug.

  “Sorry, I’d like to show you around, but I got an errand to run.”

  “It’s cool, thank you.”

  Francesca walked away, her body rising in height and mass slightly with every step. Did it fluctuate at any time of the day.

  Morrigan, unfortunately, scooted closer. Eyes on Juniper.

  Juniper, unfortunately, noticed.

  Leaving only three of them

  “… If I can ask,” she said, ignoring the goth girl inching toward her, “Why keep such a small roster of capes? I know you said there were others.”

  Evelyn lit a cigarette. “To tell you the truth? I don’t want them known, explicitly, they offer me ‘political leverage.’ They, the others, don’t typically operate in the city. When they do, shit gets messy. You’ll see em when you see em. That’s all you need to know for now.”

  She took deep breaths through her nose, then exhaled the puffing smoke..

  “

  Morrigan’s smile widened.

  Evelyn handed her a written down schedule, with important dates marked on it, some bullet points, and criteria expected from her…

  She glanced at the paper, expecting some vague assignment but on some of it was detailed, painstakingly detailed. It even lead all the way to the end of the month.

  Her eyes skimmed over it, eyes moving from line to line. The whole thing was tailored to her, like someone had spent way too much time making sure every hour of her next two weeks was accounted for.

  What stood out was the following.

  Tuesday/ W: Training and diagnostics.

  She frowned.

  They were scheduled right away, even before she could settle in. They weren’t just boarding her, they were setting a baseline. Going forward, her life was going to be abrupt.

  Juniper frowned, stomach twisting.

  Friday: Preliminary cape run under supervision.

  This was her big day, apparently, where she had to prove her ability on the field. Make easy money too.

  Evelyn had briefly shown her a digital request board filtered for capes. She was expected to contribute to OBB’s rep by doing a few missions a month. Whatever that mission entailed.

  In all honesty, that was the only normal thing about this entire setup.

  Saturday: Half-day off. Training in the morning—specifically sparring.

  Evelyn expected her to find a training partner. Not that she minded sparring, but looking around the room, no one here seemed like a match for her. Annemarie was the closest she had to an equal in pure ability, and even then, Juniper wasn’t sure if Annemarie wouldn’t wipe the floor for her.

  Next week Wednesday:

  She was expected to appear for inquiries about the Caldera case. Great. Because stopping a murderous pyromaniac meant getting grilled by people in suits who’d rather she hadn’t interfered.

  Evelyn must’ve noticed her expression. “Don’t worry about next week wednesday. The whole Caldera thing caused bureaucratic nonsense, it’s a bigger mess than you think it is, you played a large role, and they, as in the SCRA board, and the eight wants to see you. Don’t worry,I’ll be there with you all the way.”

  “The eight? Theeee eight?” Juniper repeated.

  Evelyn nodded. “Yes, you have done more than caught their attention, you’re a person of interest now, VIP.

  If there was a way to unnerve Juniper then put her in front of overly powerful and large players. These capes, were not to be trifled with.

  The events looped for the next week, except with added jobs to do. There were no more lounge days and game days. There was no hiding from people, she was being inducted into a community, she would have a social life too. No more room for reclusiveness.

  A part of her wanted to complain, to point out that she wasn’t officially part of OBB yet, that this wasn’t some military draft. But she already knew how that conversation would go. This was a power move made by her boss. Evelyn was good at making things feel like an offer when they were just an ultimatum in disguise. Protesting would but her in a tug-of-war, a struggle.

  Morrigan had started arranging glasses while Evelyn retrieved a bottle from the cabinet. Containing darkened liquid that was probably expensive.

  She held it up.

  Morrigan poured with the kind of joy usually reserved for birthdays or funerals.

  Juniper hesitated.

  “A gesture of respect,” Evelyn said, voice as smooth as the liquor looked. “Please.”

  Juniper took the glass reluctantly, swirling the whiskey before taking a long sip.It burned. Attacking her throat, like it was set on fire. She coughed, her throat stuck, lungs briefly contemplating mutiny and evacuation...

  Juniper had expected more from today’s call. Maybe a mission. Potentially an immediate test to prove herself. Not a clown meeting with questionable social dynamics and a side of casual drinking.

  But she guessed this was Evelyn’s way of easing her in. Making her comfortable before the shit hit the fan.

  “You don’t drink, do you?” Evelyn asked, a coughing Juniper.

  “No,”

  “One day, you will, once you see all the shit you shouldn’t.”

  Juniper doubted it, the thing she would possibly do if she saw the worst possible imaginable thing was climb into a hole.

  “Well, That should be about it, If you do a successful preliminary run by Thursday, I’ll give you access to the cape market, and the R&D floors,” Evelyn said, standing up.

  “Cape market? R and D?”

  “You'll need a suit won't you, a falsifiable identity. You'll need to buy your own equipment, organize repairs, or even inventions if they are sensible enough. Unfortunately, I can’t be everywhere, you’re going to have to be responsible for your own activity most of the time, typically, I’ll request something from my subordinates twice a month. So after week 2, I won’t be holding your hand. I’ll be expecting to produce results.”

  That eased juniper, she didn’t want constant oversight.

  “I’ll be busy the rest of the day. Please, Let Morrigan show you around the base.”

  Juniper grimaced. She started shivering. When Evelyn walked to the door. Leaving her all alone with the gothic women.

  “Wait.”

  Evelyn paused, glancing over her shoulder.

  “There are a few personal things I’d like to speak about.”

  Evelyn’s expression didn’t change. “Reserve them for later, or send me a private message if it’s confidential. I have other work to get to.”

  Juniper scoffed, more at herself than at Evelyn.

  Nice enough to lure her in, then all business. Detached. Calculated. Competent.

  She exhaled sharply—then flinched a hand touched her shoulder.

  Her black-painted nails tapped against Juniper’s jacket like she was testing the fabric. Juniper reeled back.

  Her eyes were bright. Smirk wide. “So, ya want a tour?”

  Did she have a choice? “I…I don’t know.”

  Morrigan waved a hand, brushing off the earlier tension like it was nothing. “Don’t sulk,” she said, voice light but undercut with something sharper. “Everyone gets their little wake-up call eventually.”

  “Sure,” Juniper muttered, feeling a sweat break on her neck.

  Morrigan hummed, pacing around her like she was appraising her. “About the ‘toy’ thing,” she said, voice casual, “I meant nothing by it.” She moved behind Juniper, slow and deliberate, tilting her head.

  “Okay?”

  “I meant… a project. A fresh coat of paint. You could be more than what you are. Appearance wise, at least, I mean? I could redo your whole broody, angsty, teen thingy you got going.”

  “I honestly don’t care what you think of me.” Juniper said under her breath. A lie. She did care. “I didn’t come here to gauge your approval.” Juniper’s own patience snapped. She bit her tongue. “And sorry, but I’m not some doll for you to experiment on.”

  Morrigan laughed. Not an amused laugh—a mocking one.

  “I get it, Jun. You’re not used to people looking at you, huh? But that’s the thing. They will. Whether you like it or not. People look, they judge, and they decide what you are. And if you don’t decide first, they’ll do it for you.

  Juniper clenched her jaw.

  “You should think about that. Perception is everything in this game. Especially when you’re out in the field.” Morrigan’s smirk widened.

  She grabbed Juniper’s hand forcefully, dragging her out of the Chair. “Hey! What are you doing.:”

  “Come along…” she moaned. “ Let's give you a grand tour of most of the base.”

  Juniper tried resisting, but Morrigan’s grip was firm..

  [GRRR….WHAT ARE YOU DOING BITE HER!]