Which wasn’t to say it wasn’t cute or cohesive. These guys had apparently spent years without much luck on the villain hunting front, but they’d at least spent the time to find costumes that were pretty darn good for the slapdash sort. That her costume was simple and effective was a point for her, in particular.

She was laughing a lot as she talked to the others—and there was something about the timbre of her laugh that made me wonder. A very kid laugh.

People had noticed my arrival, and as caught up as the three were in their own discussion, they caught on that others were looking at me.

The youngest one jogged over. The oldest moved by sliding herself along the ground—like a chess piece might move, or flight that couldn’t lift her off the ground.

And the frame—it was last to start moving my way, but first to arrive, by only a second or two. It lurched, lunging a few steps, putting one leg out forward, letting the leg telescope somewhat with springs clearly at work as suspension absorbed the frame’s full weight, wobbling like it might give way. The entire body swayed and shifted to compensate as pink liquid sloshed in the oversized syringe while it proceeded to lurch into motion again.

It made me nervous, on a few fronts, because I couldn’t shake the impression that one of those feet would bend too far, snap, and all of the tense springs within would shotgun out to impale bystanders. Because he moved like he was in attack mode, and I was the one intruding on their turf.

“Hi!” the sixteen-ish-year-old girl with the cap said. “I’m Finale.”

“Hi Finale,” I said. “I’m Victoria, or you can call me Antares. Either way is fine.”

“That’s Withdrawal,” she said, indicating the guy. “And that’s Caryatid. We’re the Major Malfunctions.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said. I extended a hand for her to shake, and she clasped it in two of her own, giving it a firm shake.

Withdrawal had to shuffle the syringe over to one shoulder, balancing it precariously there while he extended a mechanical hand across the four foot gap between him and my hand. Caryatid was more formal, less unusual, giving me a firm shake.

“Thank you for coming this far out,” Caryatid said, sounding very normal for how rigid and aristocratic her outfit was.

“It’s not an issue,” I said. “I can fly, so getting here is pretty painless.”

“I’m jealous,” Finale said. “Flying.”

There was something so guileless about the statement that I was left short on responses. I smiled at her and was about to respond when Withdrawal beat me to it.

“Do you remember what we talked about, when it comes to powers and where they come from?” he asked.