Kenzie and Rain continued their back and forth, while Tristan pulled over a chair, and Sveta pulled her lower body apart, seating herself on the stool without requiring me to move my foot. I could feel some touches here and there, but not as much contact as I might have expected to have with my foot stuck in my best friend’s midsection.

“Can you raise it?” I asked.

She scooted a bit closer to me without getting up from her seat, tendrils pressing against the ground to lift up her body and the stool. Tendrils found my ankle and calf, becoming a sling that felt a bit abrasive around the edges. Even those edges folded back and away.

“Thank you,” I said.

Tristan leaned over the table, heavy armor on a table that looked like it was made of a wooden door with legs tacked on. It creaked precipitously. “I’ve been thinking about how that went.”

“Badly?” Sveta asked.

We’re not talking about how Tristan’s doing, then?

Tristan went on, leaning over the table with bright eyes in the fairly gloomy workshop space, a serious expression, and a tone like he was ready to dive into this, “It reminded me of one fight that Byron and I got in… that I got in, really. Against Paris. I didn’t give Byron much of a chance to participate. It went badly then too. The kind of bad where you kick yourself after, because you know you could have done better.”

“Could we?” Sveta asked. “I mean, I made small mistakes, but…”

“Big picture,” Tristan said.

“Big picture, we each did what we do best. You made bridges and kept buildings from falling down, you supported things, Victoria and I kept our strongest capes in the fight and evacuated people. Rain has limited powers after last night, but he’s a walking toolkit, and he helped keep people safe.”

“It feels like we went into it emotional, tired, and raw,” Tristan said. “We lost sight of broader objectives.”

“I was just talking to Natalie about broader objectives for next time,” I told him. “I don’t want to dwell on what happened last time, so much as I want to make sure we have a game plan for next time.”

“Some of the others were talking about their own plans,” Sveta said. “Some power interactions, some tinker devices. Someone mentioned a bomb. There were bigger plans, but I think everyone’s thinking about things.”

“Okay, wait,” Tristan said. “Before we brainstorm on that stuff, I want to say, I don’t want to let go of the Paris thing.”

“The last fight we had?” I asked.

“No. Look, we fought him more than the once. First time, we went in raw—”

“Phrasing,” Rain commented. He was a few feet behind Tristan.