Episode: 4.4

--- Sol ---

“Alright, so of those twelve, which are considered the combat classes?” he asked, watching Ellie on his right.

“Uh, Bruiser, Scrapper, Blaster… and Marksmen!” Ellie bounced as she remembered the answer she wasn’t classed as.

“Good.” He nodded, before turning towards Luna on his other side, “So, which go into tactical, and support, Luna?”

“Tactician, Infiltrator, Puppeteer, and Slaver are tactical. Medic, Guardian, Transport, and Overwatch are support.” Luna listed both categories easily.

“Right… How about a hard one?” (Well hard for a kid still learning.) “Ellie, what’s the difference between the three class types?”

“Oh! Combat is about beating stuff up.” She punched the air a few times to emphasis that. “Support is helping people.” Honestly, he’d have been disappointed if she didn’t know that one.

“And the third one?” He knew the last one was the one that was going to give her trouble, but the sooner she learned this stuff the easier it would be for her.

Ellie’s smile dimmed a little as she began to think. Her eyes slowly drifted towards Luna, and- He promptly stepped between them, so his two little lights couldn’t collaborate and cheat on this little test.

“Tacticians are…” Ellie looked around a bit as if searching for the answer, “the ones who… do stuff?”

(Well, technically they all ‘do stuff’.) He didn’t feel right pointing that out to the daughter who always tried the hardest.

If it was Sophie or Luna, he’d totally point it out.

And on that note. “Does my little Puppeteer have the answer?”

“Tactical classes change the way a fight works.”

He tilted his hand a little to each side. “There’s a little more to it than that.”

Rather than changing the answer, Luna glared at him, with all the force she could muster. Until after nearly three minutes of glaring at him she let out a sigh, “Tactical classes manipulate the battlefield to their advantage by changing the standard rules of combat through: stealth, crowd control, reinforcements, or manipulation of their enemies.”

“Much better.” He nodded, before rubbing the top of her head just to mess with her.

Luna leapt away from him, and hid behind her sister, before straightening out her hair, even as she gave him with an (adorably) distrustful glare.

“Why is this stuff important again?” Ellie asked, kicking a rock as they waited.

“You two want to be heroes,” (blegh) “which means you need to understand the terminology heroes use. And regardless of if you remain independent, you still need to pass a license test.” He pointedly avoided the fact that half the heroic masks in the world lacked said license, since that was the very reason cops tried to arrest them half the time.

“But that’s years away, you’ve got to be like… Sophie’s age to get one of those.”

She was right, so he gave her a shrug. “Maybe, but it’s still useful to know this stuff on your adventures.” (Well, it’ll help Luna keep you out of trouble anyway.)

“How so?”

“Luna, if a pure Blaster and a pure Bruiser are the same rank, who’s more likely to win, and why?”

“Blaster, they have range to avoid the Bruiser’s offense power as well as the general firepower to pierce through the Bruiser’s defenses.”

“And the Blaster versus a Puppeteer?” He thought it over for a moment, before adding, “Since it’s one of your classes be a little more detailed.”

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“If a Puppeteer were to duel a Blaster, it would depend upon the Puppeteer’s sub-type…” Luna began, with a tilt of her head. “If the Puppeteer is a minion master, they will most likely lose due to the fact the Blaster, can act as an anti-army class, and simply bombard the minions from afar. That said, if the Puppeteer is capable of generating a couple of specialized units, they can outmaneuver the Blaster, but if the maneuvers become too complex that would count as a Puppeteer/Tactician hybrid, rather than a pure Puppeteer, which may defeat the purposes of the exercise.”

“See, useful.” He tried messing with Luna’s hair again, but this time she stepped out of the way before giving him a victorious glare.

“So, it helps you figure out who you can beat up?” Ellie oversimplified.

(Technically, that’s not wrong, but it’s still more wrong than right…)

He glanced towards Luna with a raised brow, earning an eyeroll from the ten-year old.

“Combat classes help figure out the best way to deal with a given enemy, based on your own combat capabilities.” Luna corrected.

He’d give her credit, at the very least Ellie thought it over before arguing. “But Luna makes the plans, so why do I need to know?”

“In case you have to make any plans.”

“But Luna makes the plans.” Ellie repeated, as if that was answer enough.

(And for a ten-year old it probably is…)

He ran a hand down his face before shrugging at his most stubborn daughter. “You’ll get it… at some point… hopefully.”

“If you say so Sol…” Her tone did not encourage him.

With that topic done, the blonde-haired girl looked around impatiently, before turning to the high school behind them. “Why does the high school get out so late?”

“They’re getting kids ready to work nine to five like most adults.” He offered his half-assed answer.

“But you don’t work nine to five?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you kid, I barely understand how the system works on a good day.”

Ellie didn’t look happy with that answer, or at least as unhappy as a perpetually optimistic ten-year-old could be. She remained this way for approximately thirty-six seconds before her eyes went wide and she started waving her hands in the air.

“Lizzy, Lizzy over here!”

He turned to where his daughter was looking and watched as an extremely pale ten-year-old in a white dress, with long black hair, ran up to them with a smile on her face as she began making several gestures to his daughters.

Now, normally he’d be happy to see any of his kids interacting with kids their own age. The only problem was… (if Lizzy ‘s here then that means…)

“Hello, Sol.”

He froze, before turning towards a pale woman with long dark hair, and a set of black sclera eyes and glowing white irises. Idly he noted the sound of the high school bell ringing behind him and couldn’t help but remember that saying about the bell tolling.

“H-hey, A-Anna.” He silently cursed himself for that stutter.

(Damn it, don’t mess this up.)

The Deadwoman glanced at the high school behind them, “Waiting on your older two?”

“Uh, yeah…” he nodded. “Usually do around this time, like to see them for a bit before they go off and do… high schooler things…” he trailed off a little awkwardly, before latching onto the first topic he could think of as he noted the bags in her hands. “Going shopping?”

“Yeah, there was this new Asian dish I heard about that I wanted to try.”

“That’s good. It’s, it’s good to have things you enjoy, but I’m not much of a cook myself…” He felt a little anxious admitting that, but felt he had to continue on regardless. “It’s, uh, it’s usually cheap dinners and simple meals for us at home…”

“Oh, well sometimes it gets a little lonely with just me and Lizzy.” The Deadwoman confessed a little sadly, before giving him a smile. “If you and the girls ever feel like having something a little… experimental, well I wouldn’t mind coming over and cooking you something.” She took a step closer, as felt his heart begin to pick up. “I’ve been told my deserts are to die for.”

He really did not like the way that sentence made him feel.

“I’ll, uh,” He swallowed down the various feelings in his throat. “I’ll ask the kids if they’d, uh, they’d like that…”

Anna smiled at him. “I’m sure they will.”

With that she called to her daughter, who’d been talking with his girls, before taking her hand and turning to leave as both the mother and daughter waved goodbye and continued on their way.

While they did this, he tried very hard not to notice the slight sway of the mother’s hips.

(I just can’t talk to that woman…)

“Putting the moves on the neighborhood mothers again, Sol?”

“I’m not putting ‘the moves’ on anyone.” He growled turning to his eldest daughter, a blonde in her late teens, wearing a button up blouse and jeans, with her hair tied up in a ponytail, and two sapphire blue eyes.

“Well, they were fairly poor moves.” Sophie nodded with the same sarcastic grin he just knew she got from him.

“Yeah, there’s no way she’ll be our step-mom like that.” Ellie agreed crossing her arms over her chest, as Luna simply gave him a succinct nod next to her.

He glared at his (traitorous) daughters. “It’s not like that, and all three of you know it.”

“Maybe,” Sophie admitted with a shrug, “but you can’t say she doesn’t like you.”

(Does she though?)

He shook his head before that thought could spiral, “It doesn’t matter.”

(It’d be easier if she didn’t.)

Once more ignoring that thought, he glanced around, before frowning as he noticed someone missing. “Where’s Nico?”

“They said they had a thing over in Mècanique, and that they were already late.”

That made him frown, as he scratched at his neck. “Well, that kind of defeats the purpose of me picking you two up if they just take off…”

Sophie shrugged. “It’s not that bad. They said they’ll be back by dinner, if everything goes right for them.”

That got a chuckle out of him. “Things rarely go right where Nico’s involved, in all honesty we’ll be lucky if they just burn the country down.”