"Welcome all to AegisCast. I'm your host Aegis, and we have here my best friend Darryl. Today, we've got a whole bunch of things to talk about, the first of which is 'Aegis, why do you have a podcast?' It's a good question, and one that I deeply want to get into, but first a word about our sponsor, Raid Shadow- Nah, I'm kidding, there aren't any sponsorships for this podcast."

Darryl tried to hide a laugh, and I raised an eyebrow at him, "Nah, nah man, laugh. We're allowed to have fun with this my dude."

I turned my attention back to the subject, "As to why a podcast? Well, fundamentally, I've realized that I need a platform to operate from, one that I can have control of, and can talk with people on. It's pretty simple, but I'm starting to notice a trend that simple works really well most of the time.

"So let's get into the meat of today's discussion: Homelessness. I took off the cowl because of Fred, and so we should start there. So let me introduce the very first guest, a Portland native, Fred!"

I motioned across our table to where Fred sat, his pit mix happily wiggling and it's tail slapping into Fred's chair, "Um, hey, thank you for having me here, and thank you for food man. It's too much."

I nodded, and I shuffled a little, "So Fred, let's get right into. Can you tell us a bit about yourself? And how you became homeless in the first place?"

Fred took a bite of his sandwich, and considered for a moment, "Well, I mean, I was never exactly rakin' it in, but things were pretty decent. I worked construction, and for a long while, business was boomin', 'specially with everyone comin' to Portland, y'know. So I didn't really pay the rent increases no mind at first, I mean, I had a full-time job, things were good. We went over to My Father's Place on Wednesday nights for the board game nights."

"The bar in downtown, right?" Chimed in Darryl, making sure the audience knew what was being talked about, and he did some editing work to bring up a picture of the bar for the viewers so they could see it.

Fred nodded, "Yessir, young blood. Things were goin' good, and then the work dried up. I was with a local construction company, and helped build a bunch of the new apartments around town. Eventually, some bigger companies came in, and what were supposed to be local apartments got bought up by some company from back East, and they wouldn't hire us. It sucks, but we got ourselves some side gigs, and I started doin' Uber, so it was workin' out, 'til my car broke down."

Hm, need to focus in, "You mentioned your rent went up. Can you talk about that a bit more in-depth?"

"Oh sure, king. I got a place with a buddy o' mine, on out on Sandy. It was out away from the city, but that made it cheaper. We were rentin' for about 900, and it was pretty good. Place had a little gym, pool, hell, it had a sauna, and this little steakhouse bar just outside and a Subway. First rent jump went to I think 1250, and yeah, things got tighter, but the city was talkin' bout how they were raisin' the minimum wage, and put in a clause to limit the rent bumps."

Darryl punched in numbers on his laptop, and I made a mental note that I needed to upgrade his rig. It was decent enough for basic schoolwork and whatnot, but I could literally hear the laptop pushing trying to keep up between it running the video, audio, and Darryl interacting with chat. However, Darryl did come up with some info, "Looking online through apartment listings, and that same apartment that you live in... what, eight years ago for 900/month, now rents for 1800 a month, plus bills and a parking fee. Also looks like they added on a $50 pet rent fee, so figuring for average usage, you would be looking at... north of $2,000 a month before you've bought groceries. That's so fu- Oh sorry."

"Dude, it's the internet, there is no swear jar," I chuckled a little bit. Darryl's slip-ups actually helped. This is a big subject, and having some quick bits of levity would help keep everyone's attention a bit. Turning my attention back to Fred, "Now, of course, this is Portland. There are programs in p-"

He was already shaking his head, "Them programs are bullshit! Oh yeah, we'll help you out with food stamps, but don't you go gettin' a job, or we'll be killin' that first thing. Unemployment? It pays like, one-eighty-five a week, and you gotta claim any work you get before you get paid for that work, so if you get screwed, you're just out the money. Man, that shit won't even cover my rent, and it's not like the stamps actually get you enough food t'eat either. And oh yeah, there's low-income housin'. Applied for that shit back in 2018, and I still ain't heard back from 'em. Shelters? Well, basically, I'd have to give up Samson here. I've had this guy since he was a pup, so what, fuck him for bein' a dog? And he's a pit, so apartments don't want 'im, he's a 'dangerous breed'! Motherfucker, this dog's afraid o' squirrels! And that's only the surface level shit-"

Fred launched into a fifteen minute long rant about every facet of how bad he was getting screwed. It was.. it was a lot, and I'll be honest, I was the least productive member of the team as I listened. His wasn't even near the worst story, and again and again, Darryl was confirming any information, popping up images, linking to relevant articles and statistics for the viewers. I meanwhile, was just sitting back in my chair, listening to every horrific moment of it, asking some follow-up questions, and then getting the confirmation of the accuracy of what Fred was saying from Darryl. It was all so fucked... I mean, how do you even say it better than that?

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We wrapped up the podcast, just over an hour, and I'm not sure I remember most of it past Fred's story. When we finished getting everything shut down, I asked Fred to hang out a moment, "I wanna hire you."

Fred considered a moment, "Whatta you need built, player?"

I shook my head, "I need someone who actually understands what it is to be homeless, someone who's been there, and that can articulate it."

"Man, I ain't articulate. I'm pretty sure I was swearin' every other word at a point."

I'd read something about this, "I know, and that's better. There are multiple studies that show that people who swear are more honest than people who don't, and I don't want tragedy porn, where I pick people for the 'optics'. I need someone to help me. I can learn, but only by experience, and I'm not homeless. I can't really learn that, and trying to would just be... it would be a mockery. That's not cool."

He reconsidered, "You really are gonna try to do it, aren't you? You're gonna try to end homelessness."

"Yeah, but there's so much conflicting information out there about what the problem is, and after listening to you, I get it: It's all of it. It's all some insane back-building loop of misery. I need you as a consultant, and I can pay. I can get you a place, we'll call it a corporate apartment, and yeah, Samson too. It won't be the lap of luxury, but I need help, and failing all else, you're an adult with a driver's license, and nothing better to do with your time right now."

First step from there was getting Fred into a hotel while I worked on getting him an apartment. I ended up putting him in a Super 8, since they offered a full breakfast, had no issue with dogs, and solid enough wi-fi. Next step, we got him some groceries, proper dog food and treats, and upon inspecting his belongings, we trashed most of it, and just bought him some new clothes, and while we were at Target, I also bought Darryl a laptop, cause the sound from his old one was coming in over the mic. It was Target when things went... sideways a little. Darryl took Samson to go play in the dog park, so it was me, Fred, and my mom, who was driving us around. She'd been slightly worried about the idea of me being around a random homeless man, but I did manage to impress upon her that I was, in fact, an actual superhero, and could outrun cars on side streets.

The manager at Target spotted me coming through, and it made a lot of things easier, cause she was only too happy to help out with a whole host of things. I got why, I was a celebrity now, so it didn't matter who I was, but the what. I was "with" the H.A.A., and as I started to realize, the only superhero in the whole of Oregon. Anna and Adam weren't natives, Anna being a transfer like most of Portland at this point, and Adam's job had him moving around the country to do evaluations and awaken powers. If I were a normal kid, we'd have been treated like we were about to rob the place, but since I'm Aegis, I was a publicity and autograph opportunity.

But what went wrong was in relation to Fred. We got the shopping done well-enough, got him a full set of proper clothes, shoes, full work-up, and I set up a barber appointment for him. There was a place downtown across from a cupcake place that not only did a proper hot towel shave, but also offered whiskey and cigars to their patrons. I figured... he's been through a lot, and he could use it. I was setting it up while Fred was getting changed in the bathroom after we checked out. Mom seemed concerned, as he was taking a while. I said I'd go check up on him, and went into the men's room, when I heard it: weeping, "Fred, you okay man?"

He stepped out of the stall, wearing his all new clothes, and wiping his eyes, "Sorry man, I'm good."

"You don't have to be, you know. I cry, too."

He shook his head, "You don't have to make me feel better, man."

I furrowed my brows, "I'm not tryin' to. Two weeks ago, my entire life got thrown off a cliff, and I can't really talk with anyone about it. Even other supers out there, they've got powers, yeah, but their powers are limited, like Crimson said, they can put them down, walk away. For me, though, it's... everything, and there's just so much pressure. So please believe me, I get things being too big."

He started to slowly weep again, "It's just, these clothes, they're the first clothes I've gotten in over five years that someone else ain't worn before me. For real, whatever you need, I got you. I just-"

Fred started crying again, and I went on the instincts instilled by my mom: I hugged him. It was the final crack in the dam, and he cried, hard. Thank God I worked out, cause his knees buckled, and his whole body shook. I'm not sure how long we were there, but I didn't feel saying things was a thing right now. I helped Fred gather up his stuff, throw out his old clothes, and we caught up with Mom. She didn't ask any questions, at least not until Fred was situated in the barber's chair, "Marcus, is Fred okay?"

"No. It's more than the homelessness itself, Ma. I'm pretty sure that I'm the first person to hug him since before this began, and that can't be good psychologically. He cried cause he was wearing new clothes. Every time I look at this thing, it's more of a monster than the last time I looked, like a hydra. It feels like, even if I take out one problem, the problems'll multiply. I mean, how do you deal with that?"

My mom regarded me for a moment, "Well, the trick to the hydra is burn off the stumps so they don't grow back, but the key to that is knowing to do it. I know it's huge right now, sweetie, but you just need to make sure you do your research. You can do it, I have absolute faith in you."

I needed more resources. Yeah, money was a part of it, but I need legitimate resources. Fred was part of that, I physically couldn't do all of this myself. I'd need to incorporate, to become a stronger entity for the changes, but most of all, I needed a lab. I needed to be able to carry out experiments, and in turn, get a better idea of the potential solution. But where the fuck do you get a lab to experiment on homelessness?