[Smells Like Teen Spirit]—❈—17:: Chauffeuring and Other Business

Sorry I vanished on you all the last week. I write with my phone, and the screen broke, so I took it in to get fixed and they held onto for a week, and gave it back to me unrepaired when I complained that they were taking too long.

Fortunately, the crack in the screen actually doesn't affect performance at all, so... 🤷🏾‍♂️

Anyway, here's the chap.

—❈——❈——❈—

Monday, March 21, 2011

I head home after school, to our new (to us at least), mostly unfurnished house.

Mom isn't in, likely out getting stuff for the house, so there's nothing to really keep me there for longer than it takes to shower and change before portaling to my new workplace at The PRT HQ.

I step out of the portal into my designated portal spot into The PRT HQ to find the Protectorate hero Velocity waiting for me.

This is expected; I'd been informed beforehand that he'll be handling my training for the day.

Over the next month, I'm to work with a different member of the Brockton Bay hero team (both Wards and Protectorate) each day. Not only so I have heroes (like myself now, I suppose) showing me the ropes, but also so I can be acquainted with the people I will be working with in the future.

"Musa, hey," Velocity says in greeting, and I say hey back.

I zip up the portal behind me.

“What are we working on today?” I ask the red-clad hero.

“Crowd control,” he replies.

I guess that makes sense, seeing as it's Velocity's major role with The Protectorate.

As I begin to ask Velocity for more information, like where—and how—we'll be doing the training, my new phone, given to me by my new employers and supposedly unhackable by all but the best tinkers/thinkers, chimes with a new message.

I check and see it's from Dennis: it's a picture of a bedroom, underneath which is a note; 'need a ride on the portal express. Pretty please.🥺'

I blink. Seriously? What am I, his personal chauffeur? And puppy eyes emoji? Freaking seriously?

"What's wrong?" Velocity asks, seeing my expression.

"Uh, my teammate, Den— Clockblocker," I correct, remembering the protocol before I break it (never use a cape's civilian name unless in the presence of that cape and unmasked). "He's asking for a ride on the 'portal express'"

I can't help but add the finger quotes.

Velocity 'ah's in understanding, then he observes me for a second.

"You want to say no?" he asks without judgement.

"A little," I admit.

I mean, I certainly don't want to start something I can't finish. Humour him today, and he might ask again tomorrow, and then who knows? Maybe Chris decides to get in on it, and next thing you know I'm the team chauffeur.

On the other hand though, let's be honest, opening portals barely costs me anything and is hardly a bother.

Plus, he used the puppy eyes emoji. I'm going to hell if I say no to that.

"You're going to do it, aren't you?" Velocity asks, holding back a smile.

I huff out a dramatically putupon sigh. "I'm way too nice for my own good," I say, and focusing on the room in the picture, I open a portal.

Dennis steps out almost exactly ten seconds later.

"Thanks, man," he's saying before even stepping out fully. "Taking the bus to work is totally not cool when you're a superhero."

My eyebrow climbs. “But no one on the bus knows you're a superhero,” I say slowly.

The redhead gives me a weird look. "Yeah, but I do."

"So, basically, you just bugged my life to protect your fragile ego," I point out.

Dennis pats me on the back. "That's what friends are for. Hey, Velocity," he says to the adult cape.

"Hey, Clock. When's your patrol?"

Dennis eyes the older cape suspiciously. "In an hour," he answers. "Why?"

“Just wondering if you wanted to hang out with Musa while we trained,” Velocity replies.

Dennis considers it for all of two seconds.

“Sure,” he agrees. “Why not?”

The next hour flies past.

Apparently, for The Protectorate, crowd control is more than just managing a crowd, it is more about keeping civilian casualty to a minimum during crises.

Despite this though, there's barely anything physical involved in the training. I don't know if it's because this is my first time or not, but Velocity simply takes Dennis and I to a room with a projector and plays several, both staged and real life, scenarios of crimes and disasters, and quizzes me on what the right thing to do is, when the right time is to do it, why it's the right thing to do, and how best to go about doing it.

Every time I give a wrong answer, Velocity explains why I'm wrong, and goes into detail on what the better option would be in such a scenario.

Velocity even quizzes Dennis too, letting us work together sometimes to figure out how best to handle a situation, and, at other times, when I get an answer wrong, having him be the one to explain why and propose a better alternative.

By the end, not only is my head swimming with new information, I'm surprised by how meticulous The Protectorate is about this.

And once again, I find myself wondering how this organisation has been as ineffectual as it has.

Because, the more I learn about The PRT/Protectorate, the less it makes sense that they fail so woefully at their jobs.

At this point, I'm starting to suspect, and suspect strongly, that it might be deliberate; that The PRT/Protectorate, or at least people high up enough in it to affect the actions of the entire organization, are deliberately failing at their jobs, or hindering the efforts of the agents on the ground.

That thought causes my brows to dip in a frown.

Could that be possible? I wonder.

Could there really be some shadowy conspiracy sabotaging one of, if not the most powerful organization in the world?

I shake the thought away. It's irrelevant.

The only thing that matters now is that I'm here, and like Mom said The PRT can help me do a lot of good.

I want to do that good. All the good that I can do. And if I have to drag The PRT along by the scruff of its neck, kicking and screaming, to do that good, then you bet your ass that I'm gonna.

Conspiracy or not.