Over the next few days, I got everything ready for my parents. The one thing about living in what was essentially a fancy military base, was that visits were very controlled and planned- or maybe part of that was because an MG was personally interested in every step of the processes.

Regardless of the reason, I felt much better about this once I was able to scope out and beef up the security of the guest-house my parents were going to be staying in for the few days they were going to be here. There wasn’t actually all that much on the island, so pleasure visits were better done the other way around- which my parents likely knew. I would not have been at all surprised if the real reason they were dropping their business to come over to me was to make sure I was doing alright.

For in between the grilling of myself and those in charge of things by my mother, I had put together a small list of things to go see and do. Again, a small military-island-town didn’t make for a good vacation spot, but the people who lived here needed some things to keep themselves entertained.

Finishing my preparations didn’t help with the anticipation-fueled anxiety, but eventually that didn’t matter since time was up.

I was watching the radar screen and listening in on the communications as the plane came in. As a technically civilian I was technically not allowed in there without permission, so to at least look like I respected the leadership I waited by the front gates. Of course, unofficially I had given myself access to as many of the digital systems in the base as part of my last round of precautions. From the sounds of it, everything was going great- in fact, the pilot was extra happy and extended an offer for some good booze courtesy of “one of the generous passengers.”

Since I had access to the flight’s documentation, I knew that the only passengers were my parents and that their luggage did not include any alcohol as per the rules- at least officially. A closer look at that list revealed shipment labeled “aged, food-safe, scented cleaner.” One guess what that was.

After touchdown, there was an uncomfortable half and hour before I picked up my mom and dad at the edge of my perception. I had debated forgoing the obvious prosthetics for the duration of their visit before quickly realizing they would have already figured out I was Devil and found my debut non-interview that went along with that. As far as I knew, there was nothing out yet about my new arm, but since I couldn’t really hide it, I decided to act like everything was normal- with the hope they didn’t ask.

Pushing aside the last-second fears, I stood up and tidied myself up before stepping into view and waving.

My mother immediately perked up and started lightly jogging towards me while my father turned to the escort, gave him a pat on the shoulder and said, “well, that's our cue. Thanks for the great flight. Have a good time with the boys tonight for me- just make sure to not get too rowdy.”

After a round of hugs and greetings, we hopped on a golf cart and were driven into town. It would only have been about a five minute walk, but the thought was nice. Since it had been a good number of months since the last time we had seen each other in person, my parents and I had a silent agreement to not talk about the heavy stuff as we caught up.

Once we were left to wander around town, my dad tested the water and asked, “so how’re you finding it here?”

After a little pause to think I casually answered, “oh, it’s pretty nice- good scenery and amenities. I am also definitely getting more exercise than ever before. Everyone is quite nice for the most part and I just don’t interact with the people I find annoying.”

With a small snort, my mother sighed, “if only I could do that. There are so many unbearable people I have to work with.”

Chiming in with his own opinion, my father also complained, “at least they’re paying you and following your directions. All the assholes I’m around are on other teams- which I guess limits my interactions with them.” Turning back to me he expanded his query, “had any problems you need our help sorting out or want advice on?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I involuntarily winced before deciding to cut to the heart of my worries. “Are you guys actually alright with me doing this? I mean, I’ve already messed myself up badly a couple times…”

As I nervously waited for an answer, my parents glanced at each other and nodded.

Making sure I was looking at him by gently holding my shoulders, my dad firmly explained, “Silvia, I race motorcycles as optimized for speed as the rules allow. The only protection that gets offered is a nice suit and helmet. Your mother takes jobs as a lawyer for very unpopular clients. We’ve been getting death threats since before you were born and have had a few scarily close to being followed through on. However, we feel safe because we are aware of the dangers and give them a lot of respect.

“If you want to risk your life doing this, it's only difference from what we do is the directness of the threat and the response you’re allowed to take. As long as you knew the dangers and were comfortable with them, we would have fully supported whatever you wanted to do with your life. Honestly, it’s actually a relief that you’re an MG and not trying to become an astronaut for the Mars mission.”

Cutting in before I could splutter a response, my mother continued, “We dropped everything to come make sure that you really wanted to do this. We were scared that someone was forcing you into being an MG or keeping you here against your will. That’s it. The only thing that hurt me about your decision was that you didn't feel like you could share it with us.”

“I mean… I just didn’t want to… You guys have to deal with so much of my stuff,” I stammered between deep breaths to stop from breaking into tears.

Chuckling lightly, my mother exasperatedly reassured, “honey, it’s our job to deal with all your concerns and fuckups.”

To cover my impending breakdown from all the stress going away, I pulled my dad into a hug. It didn’t help that much. The grunts of surprise and pain from my victim along with him breathlessly asking, “can you ease up a little? I think you might not realize just how fragile my old bones are compared to your new strength,” definitely did as I shifted from sobs to choked laughter.

After taking a few minutes to calm down I started leading them over to SEYA to tour around there. On the way, my parents asked a bunch more questions about how things worked and what I was doing specifically. I hadn’t been paying all that much attention to what was going on in the periphery around me, so I had to accelerate my thoughts and dig through policy documents to answer. There were a few things that surprised them; the free access to get basically anything we wanted and the extent of our legal protections were of particular interest.

Adopting a fake grumpy voice, my dad joked, “damn governm’nt spending ma’ stolen taxes on fundin’ a bunch o’ kid’s vices so they can send ‘em at their escaped biological weapons project.”

“Well, supposedly, the Semiseelie try to pick people that aren’t inclined to causing image issues.”

At the mention of my partner, my mother asked, “speaking of that, where are they?”

With a thought and some ULE, I was able to get Cleo to manifest- who chose to do so on top of my head, of course. This put them at eye level with my parents, who both reached over to pet them.

“Oh, its so cute!” My mother cooed while my father agreed with a quick, “looks like the cat we had when she was younger.”

{I chose a form that would be comforting to Silvia due to the stress of the job.}

“And how has she been to work with?”

{Quite pleasant, but a little scatterbrained at times. It has been very fun seeing her growth in power and as a person.}

Objecting, I tried to cut in, “that makes be sound like I-”

{She might never admit it, but I could tell she really enjoys helping people and has a tremendous amount of courage in the face of our enemies. It’s also quite entertaining to see how much of a show-off she can be when hiding behind her character as Devil. Especially considering how she spends so much of her time locked up in her room-}

Cutting the flow of ULE to my Semiseelie, I turned and started marching a little faster to hide my bright red face.

Jogging a little to catch up, my father chuckled, “they seemed nice. I wish we could have talked for longer.”

“They. Sure. Are.”