Eventually, a runner came to notify us that our transportation was here. As I stood up and turned on my usual perks, Rebecca flicked me on the back of the head and quietly said, “it’s part of our job to have some form of public presence, so please turn those off. I know you might be more comfortable fitting in amongst the helpers, but it’ll be good for you to get used to this sort of thing.”

I gave her a frown, but relented. As I opened my mouth to ask, she cut me off- correctly guessing what I was going to ask- and continued, “the mask is fine. I get that you want to maintain a very clear divide between your private and MG life.”

With a small frown, I replied, “fine. But I can’t promise to be entirely cooperative with any spontaneous interviews or grandstanding.”

Giving me a small smile and sigh in return, Rebecca asked, “can you at least try not to get on the bad side of more people in positions of power? Your previous stunts haven’t helped in that regard.”

“I can try, but when I have to improvise or involuntarily make a public appearance, my default is petty spite- which probably isn’t helped by being able to hide my real identity and lack of legal accountability. The people also love it.”

A bit exasperated, she warily ventured, “what people?”

Adopting a much more cheery voice, I explained, “my introduction speech has garnered a lot of attention. Like, more than what would be normally expected. While most people that are required to give an ‘official’ opinion state they think I went too far, all of the anonymous discourse found it very entertaining. I’ve also heard our colleagues enjoyed it.”

As I said that, everyone started moving, so we had to follow along. I didn’t miss how everyone conspired to move me to the front with the other MGs despite my best efforts. At least no one was being allowed to come up to us by the team of security clearing a path.

I joined in on waving or nodding back to people- inwardly stewing in annoyance. I had to stop the tip of my tail from flicking in reaction to my emotions, which was slightly concerning because I shouldn’t have the instincts to do that. I quickly checked its systems, however, there were no control programs running besides the normal one.

Dripping with venomous politeness, I pointedly thought-asked Cleo, “why is my tail moving like that when I don’t specifically stop it from doing so?”

{Well, when imprinting the necessary motor control you needed, it was easiest to copy and mix some templates from animals that have tails or similar: moneys, cephalopods, and some others.}

“Are any of those others cats?”

{...I believed that basing your idle behavior off of felines was more appropriate than canines. Wagging with a tail that long would cause too much torque and take up too large an area.}

“Why wasn’t letting be still an option? This is kinda embarrassing.”

{...No comment. Should you like it changed, please remind me when we next have to tinker with your brain and I’ll try to fit it in.}

I let out a sigh and was once again happy that no one could read my facial expression before I tried to put it out of mind. It didn’t help. I couldn’t help but wonder how long my tail had been doing stuff like that without me noticing. Did everyone just assume it was normal or not worth commenting on- maybe they thought I had a hand in setting it’s behavior up.

Dipsite the size of our group, we had made good time, so even if I wanted to worry about my prosthetics any more, there were more pressing matters. It was possible that I was the only one who knew about the mayor’s antics, but letting the others know I knew would give away that I had not just gone for a walk- so I tucked in behind the other MGs and waited for a cue on what to do.

As our handler saw the setup and crowd, they let out an annoyed sigh and muttered something to the effect of, “why does this happen every time?” Then, as they stepped to the very front and turned around they instructed, “we’ll have to just put up with this. I’m sure most of you are used to this sort of thing, so let’s act like it was properly and officially planned and discussed.

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“Someone tell our host they have half an hour before I ask SWAT for an escort to our accommodations.”

The level of passive aggressive spite in the short tirade made me extremely pleased, and caused the runner to scamper off like someone wanted to bite their head off. At the direction of the aides, our little group of MG backed around the corner a few paces and transformed into our costumes.

The level of casualness with which the others did so made me wonder if I was the only one to have… less than positive emotions associated with transforming.

Rebecca and Kay looked much the same as last time I had seen them in costume, and Chris looked like what one would expect with the cover name ‘Paladin’: almost exactly the same gleaming full plate as the other five with the same name. To look slightly different from the others, he had a Roman-style red mohawk-thing, lots of red and gold ribbons, and a sword that looked like a particularly ridiculous MMO weapon.

Carlos wasn’t a lot better in terms of eccentricity- but adopted an appearance from the other direction in the timeline. He had a long trench coat with a high, RGB-lit collar. All over the coat were patterns of metallic plating definitely more ornamental than functional, especially with the consistent use of RGB lights. Under the coat, he wore clothes that were much more reserved- lots of blacks with velcro and molle holding various gadgets and pouches in place.

My own costume was much more plain in colors if not appearance. Once I was no longer blinded by the massive ULE fluctuations created from changing into costume, I checked to make sure everything had exchanged with my normal clothes correctly.

I was wearing a knee-length white dress made from innumerable irregular polygonal segments of some sort of white plastic armor connected to a black fabric backing. The geometries and weights of the segments caused them to fold and lock along the seams in such a way that it always hung close to my body without being at all tight or heavy. Since that would only be slightly ridiculous by normal standards, a thin black mesh was draped over the whole thing to induce patterns through the moiré effect when coupled with the previously noted backing.

For my arms, I had a set of detached sleeves in the same white as the dress- but not the same materials- worn over long gloves black enough that they apparently hid any contours or details by not really reflecting light.

Finally, I had a pair of very normal, very comfy, black sneakers- anything not monochromatic would ruin the aesthetic according to Cleo. They were originally high heels, but I was able to have that changed through simple and persuasive arguments like: “if these don’t break my ankles, I’ll do it myself,” “I haven’t worn something like in ten years,” and “if you don’t change them, I’ll throw them in a volcano.”

When my mask was taken into account, nearly my entire outfit utilized some form of optical illusion in its design. While I didn’t have issues with how it looked, I also had very little input into its design as Cleo refused any major changes that couldn’t be justified to fit their arbitrary and ever-shifting requirements.

When we were done, one of the aides came over and did final checks and adjustments like some sort of makeup artist before we were guided out to meet the crowd.

Rebecca said some generic token thanks and exchanged some meaningless words with the mayor- carefully framed in front of the ‘New Salem Airport’ sign- with the rest of us mostly sat there trying not to look bored or annoyed. Well, the others were, I didn’t have to bother with controlling my facial expressions and was frowning the entire time.

This might have led me to create a feedback look of annoyance even before the actual speech started, so by the time it actually did get going, I had slipped my phone out of a pocket and maneuvered myself where I would be just in frame of the cameras. As the mayor talked, I copied and discreetly displayed their words on my phone for the camera- adding alternating capitalization and random misspellings, of course.

I wouldn’t be mocking the endless drivel without doing so.

As soon as people noticed what I was doing, a few of the cameras moved to cut me out of the shot, while a few others moved to focus on me. Which ones did which was almost clearly defined by who owned them: more ‘traditional’ and ‘professional’ media organizations didn’t want my shenanigans causing friction when it came time to file tax write-offs. The ones that turned to focus on me were owned by other organizations who wanted a story that would let them get closer to the opposition.

Before I decided to do anything more drastic, I noticed that some of the aides off to the side getting everything packed away with our transports pulled out their phones and immediately stiffened up. One came running up to our handler and engaged them in a whispered conversation- and from their body language, I gathered it was something to be concerned about.

As the latest phrase of the mayor’s speech came to an end, our handler stepped forwards and loudly announced, “while this has been a nice distraction, unfortunately it’s time for us to do our jobs.”