There was something to be said about the fact that the hospital was still in construction while it was running.
Better than the alternative from yes minister.
There were patients in the waiting room, sitting in the chairs that had been bolted to the floor, and the unhappiness of needing a hospital visit was compounded by the fact that a third of the way across the room, behind a plastic sheet that had been taped to walls, ceiling and floor, a team was using power tools and calling out in loud voices as they built the rest of the room.
Or maybe not.
“Visiting hours are open. Patient’s name?”
“Fume Hood. I don’t know her real name.”
Daw.
Question is, are they ex-violent, ex-racists? Gets muddier.
DONATISM. *waps victoria with rolled up newspaper*
Respect the amnesty.
“She’s hurt by what happened. It’s hard, to put yourself out there, face your shortcomings, try to be better, and get shot for it.”
“There will always be bad guys. They will always be out there. There will always be murders, there will be theft, there will be drugs.”
"There will always be disease, and poop you have to flush twice, and unhappiness, and high-fat cheeseburgers." The last one doesn't fit
The blob of paint on the door fell to the ground as well. Both moved along the ground as I entered, spattering against the back of Tempera’s shoes and the back of her overalls.
Paint cape is a weird one.
“Hey, patrol girl with a name I can’t remember,” Fume Hood said.
=3
“Victoria. Right. Thank you for helping to hold my blood in,” Fume Hood said.
This is a really weird but truthful way to put it.
"Hey thanks man, I almost lost my blood back there but you grabbed it for me before I dropped it, such a clutz."
“I’ve got too much as it is. Turns out that the key to popularity and acceptance is to get yourself shot.”
Yay!
“If you guys keep showing up with flowers or to make small talk, you make it awfully hard for me to fuck off and go back to being a villain.”
I know these feels from quitting drugs and being suspicious of those sober types around me suddenly popping in more. It's not pleasant.
“There are a few other things to do,” I said. “One way is to essentially run a protection racket that isn’t a racket. It’s easy for that to go wrong. There’s a higher level effect, which is easier to pull off when, say, a city has a downtown area and the shop owners gather together to pay a wage to the hero that draws attention and has a positive influence on their area…”
“Things have to be stable before that happens,” Tempera said.
Gosh. Like a mascot and security all in one. Imagine if Mascots at stadiums handled security with superpowers.
I have a horrible suspicion that Victoria is going to go;
"Hey wait a minute, Taylor Hebert! Brilliant! I'll just go undercover in a villain gang! WHAT COULD GO WRONG?!"
The mask wasn’t the quality sort I was used to, more of a Halloween costume. The top I wore was a men’s small, a little too big in the shoulder, while it simultaneously squashed my chest.
This kind of thing can't be healthy for her dismorphia.
There wasn’t much likelihood that Juan had powers, but he’d had a bad day, and this was okay.
The entire series of scenes is adorable.
Me:
I know your caseload is full, but found a kid with some power-related troubles. Contact is reaching out to Wardens soon. Maybe you can keep an eye out to make sure all goes smooth?
Feels.
My phone buzzed again.
Jessica:
A patient canceled for later this week. Do you want to meet for a late lunch? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.
YAMADATIME.