[color=fff200][h2][center]Hornet[/center][/h2][/color]

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[b]Protectorate HQ, Changing room, 8:37 AM
June 19th, 2021[/b]

Jessica held her helmet between her hands, stared into the glossy black eyes as she hesitated to put it on, and wondered if it was too late to change the design of her costume. The original drafts she had seen, after sending in some rough sketches and some notes on what she wanted, includes a helmet that was just a blank yellow plane, featureless and inhuman, and Jessica had rejected them on the basis that it would be too intimidating. She’d thought that the eyes and the black lines here and there to break up the expanse of yellow would help it look more like a face, but now those shiny black eyes bore into you and you could see yourself in them if you were close enough and maybe that was worse. The effect was more intense that she expected and she couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to be stared down by someone wearing this.

Letting out a sigh, Jessica put the helmet down on the bench next to her and procrastinated having to put it on by checking the rest of her costume for the fifth time.

Wearing her costume still felt strange to her. It was heavy with all of the armour on it, but not as much as you would think; the plates at her chest and back weighed on her shoulders more than a regular t-shirt would but less than her school backpack did when it was full of books, the gauntlets on her wrists made every movement of her arms feel like the swing of a pendulum and her helmet added a weight to every nod and turn of her head that felt uncomfortable. But overall the whole ensemble didn’t weigh so much that it felt like a burden to walk around in it. More distracting than the weight was the inflexibility of it all; not that it was restrictive exactly, whoever had designed and made this had been sure to provide her with the normal range of movement she would have without it, but she could still feel the rigidity of what she was wearing every time she moved and it was… distracting.

Everything she wore felt new, like the stiffness new clothes tended to have, because it was. The feeling was like a reminder that she didn’t quite fit yet, that she hadn’t had time to settle into her costume or the role that came with it; she’d barely triggered two months ago and now she was supposed to be a Ward and in a couple years she would move up join the Protectorate and then Jessica would have stand alongside people like Grandmaster and Axiom and [i]Trinity[/i]. Barely two months since she’d gotten hurt, since her friend had… since she’d triggered. It didn’t feel like enough, even though a week ago it felt like too long. Two months of getting used to her power, of training to fight and defend herself, of getting a crash course in PRT protocols and rules and all of the jargon that came with being a Cape.

Two months of recovery.

It felt like too long at the time. It didn’t feel like enough now.

Picking up the helmet again, Jessica didn’t risk getting caught up in its blank stare again and just slid it over her head and felt its uncomfortable weight setting into place.

Everything she wore felt heavy and rigid. Because she was wearing armour; [i]bulletproof[/i] armour, because now she was in a situation where that was a thing she needed. Her power made her invincible in short bursts, made her super strong and let her hop around the place so long as there were people to hop to; but that wouldn’t be enough, so the armour was there to catch her when all of that failed to keep her safe. Because being a Ward was dangerous, because the city was dangerous right now even if you were just a normal person, because even though Confessor was dead and gone Bridgewater was still a mess and the gangs were out of control. Jessica had triggered in the first place because things were dangerous and the whole reason she was being introduced as part of a whole new team, and not just as a new Ward member, was because all of the old Wards were [i]gone[/i]; either quitting and moving to a new city or dead at the hands of Confessor. Dead along with who knows how many civilians and who known how many more killed or hurt in the instability that followed.

Turning to the floor to ceiling mirror in the changing room, Jessica got a look at herself in full costume for the first time. It felt strange to wear and the helmet was still intense up close, but she had to admit that she liked the way it looked;  the sleek lines and smooth planes of the armour, the stark contrast between the black of the under suit and the yellow on top looked good. Even when you knew what to look for, between the full-face helmet and the way the armour hid the shape of her body, there was no hint of who was wearing it underneath; even if the mirror she could almost forget it was herself she was looking at. The only thing ruining the image was the slouched, hunched posture as she leant forward, so she straightened her back and tried to inject some of her usual confidence into her posture. When the effect was less pronounced than she liked she stood up as well, standing tall and with her head up and facing the mirror head on.

It looked better.

It looked like the Hornet she had seen in the costume drafts.

It looked like a Ward. Even if she didn’t feel like one yet.

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[b]Protectorate HQ, Meeting room, 8:56 AM
June 19th, 2021[/b]

Hornet hurried down the corridor towards the meeting room, her efforts to arrive early this morning still ended up with her being late with how long it took to get into her costume. As she approached the room itself and the people within came into range of her power, she could feel how many people were already inside; four, five, six, how many new Wards were they supposed to be getting?

There were nine people in the room total, the final three standing at the back of the room coming into range last. She resisted the urge to speed things up by teleporting into the room, figuring that jump scaring one of her new teammates was not the kind of first impression she wanted to make. Instead she just walked up to the door like a normal human being and opened it just wide enough to quietly slip inside without being noticed. Though given how brightly coloured her costume was compared to basically everyone else in the room, it was inevitable that at least one person was going to turn in her direction.

[color=fff200]“Sorry I’m late.”[/color]