Chapter 8

Right! Sorry for the delay everyone real life got rather busy and writing had to take a back seat. I know a few people want me to completely set aside the side story/sequel of Taylor in the Grail War until the main story is complete. To answer that I can only say I don't know what I intend to do with it yet. The main reason I wanted those first two posts of it done was for the conversation between Taylor and Rin about the possibilities surrounding Taylor absorbing Counter Guardian Shirou Emiya. It was the last major Fate plot hole that needed to be addressed. Granted, I didn't actually give a concrete answer about what happened there, but I did outline several possibilities which should placate the fans who insisted Alaya would never give up one of her Counter Guardians.

Now that it's out of the way there is less of a need to add to the sequel. I may set it aside until the main story is done or I may do what I originally intended and give it an update or two every time I finish a story arc. We'll see how I feel about it when I get to the end of this arc.

Still don't own anything but my car. Hope you all enjoy! Please leave a review if you like the story!

{}{}{}{} After Diner.

I sank slowly onto one of the couches and pulled out the Wards combat manual. I'd started reading it earlier but only read maybe half. So far, I wasn't very impressed. The book wasn't about tactics at all. Not even stupidly generic ones. It made some sense. Parahuman powers were too diverse and unpredictable for there to be any kind of standard team formations and strategies, but it didn't even try.

No, the whole manual was a hodgepodge of regulations, instructions on after action reports, and descriptions of what kind of situations Wards were allowed to intervene in. It also constantly reiterated the fact that we were not required to take part in combat. Even more infuriating it insisted we speak with our team leader to find out if any capes in our area had a blanket retreat order. Granted, I'd lived in the same town as Lung, Hookwolf, and Oni-Lee. I got it. Some capes would kill you without batting an eye, and they wanted to keep kids away from those types. It still rubbed me the wrong way. If it was fight or let someone die, I knew what choice I would make. My conscience wouldn't let me walk away if there was something I could do.

There was a lot of attention given to the idea of acceptable verses excessive force. It was… honestly it was ridiculous. 'Demand the villains surrender prior to taking any action unless failure to act would put someone at risk of injury or worse.' I understood we were supposed to be law enforcement and all that, but, really? Giving away my position and the element of surprise is supposed to be standard procedure? Yeah, no.

The PRT's idea of excessive force was almost as bad. Broken bones are excessive. Serious lacerations are excessive. The list went on to include a bunch of other more esoteric injuries but the general idea was they wanted us to somehow subdue villains as nonviolently as possible. But of course, we weren't allowed to carry tasers or containment foam unless we happened to be a tinker. Because kids carrying any kind of weapon when it wasn't directly related to their power gave people the impression of child soldiers.

"Put people out on the street to stop crime, and then make them do it barehanded against people with guns and worse." I mentally groused. "Is it any wonder capture rates are so low?"

Shirou hummed back at me. "True, though the nature of my abilities should give you the wiggle room to do more than get into fist fights." He snorted derisively at the idea. I had to agree with the sentiment. I'd put in too much effort getting here to be restricted to punching when I had the Unlimited Blade Works as my armory. "You should probably finish reading it though. You're expected to meet with the PR team tomorrow. I'm not sure what to expect from them, but knowing more can only help."

"Yeah… but maybe this isn't the best source…" I trailed off as footsteps coming from the kitchen broke my train of thought.

"Ahh, that thing." Jason's voice was tinged with exasperation.

Glancing over my shoulder I caught the grimace on his face as he eyed my manual like it had personally offended him.

I raised the small book and gave it a little wave as I caught his eye. "Does this thing actually give any good advice?" I asked. "I'm more than halfway through but it hasn't mentioned what kind of situations justify taking off the kiddy gloves. So far, I've just gotten the impression that they'd rather I fight villains with a Nerf sword, or run."

With a sigh Jason plopped down in a chair to my left. "There are three and a half pages near the very end that cover that. They bury the whole thing in a heaping pile of legal mumbo jumbo, and reminders that you are encouraged to run from dangerous situations." He scowled at the little book in my hand. "It all boils down to this though. If your backs to the wall and you think someone intends to kill or maim you? You do whatever you have to do." He looked me dead in the eye as he said it, and his tone of voice brooked no argument.

"If it comes down to that the PR department will do absolutely everything they can to bury it." He growled. "That can include sticking the hero in some out of the way hick town for a few months to let the media circus die down before transferring them to a different city." He shook his head looking absolutely disgusted with the idea. "And they'll put you through the wringer trying to decide if you actually were justified or not. They think you weren't? Your carrier is basically over right then and there."

Jason frowned then shook his head again. "Sorry that got away from me a bit. Look, they will rake you over the coals and give you the third degree if you cross the line. That being said, at the end of the day your safety, the team's safety, and the safety of civilians, is a higher priority than some random villain."

I shook my head slowly trying to rap my mind around the idea. "So, what? If there not shooting at me…" I trailed off as Jason waved a hand back and forth.

"Getting shot at wouldn't cut it as an explanation for 'excessive force'." He groused, actually making the air quotes.

Shirou spluttered in the back of my mind as my jaw dropped.

"People shooting doesn't? Are they out of their minds?!" I shouted.

Lilly and Dani poked their heads out of one of the bed rooms, and Fred, the team's tinker, wandered out of the kitchen carrying a plate of lasagna and chewing on a piece of garlic bread.

"How does getting shot at not rate taking off the kiddy gloves and at least handing out some broken bones?" I growled

"Uh oh." Dani mumbled before she bounced through a wall and back out of sight. Lily looked back and forth between Jason and I before grimacing and edging back through the doorway she'd just exited before slowly closing the door. Fred, mumbled something about tinkering and power walked for the door covered in hazard warning symbols.

Jason sighed and sank back into his chair fully. "Ok. I might have been overstating things. It would justify some broken bones. More than that though? It would take a hell of a lot."

"I'm not bulletproof!" I hissed, waving the manual. "Even if I reinforced myself to the max, I doubt I could stop a piddly little .22 without armor! If someone's shooting at me that's, uhm, assault with a deadly weapon, right? The police shoot back when that happens!"

"I know." He groaned. "Believe me, I do, and I'm not the only one. It's not like this in every city. In Chicago getting shot at is all the justification you need to explain busting heads and breaking bones. And they can't seem to go four months without some villain getting iced. It's the only way to keep the city from imploding. Though they try to transfer the Wards out of there to other cities whenever they can."

"So, what? It's a regional issue?" I honestly didn't get it.

"Sort of?" He shrugged. "The manual is standard. How closely it gets followed depends on who's in charge of the city. Nominally the Wards take orders from the head of the local Protectorate, or whoever they put in charge of us if they're too busy. That being said, the Protectorate team leaders answer to their PRT counterparts. So who we answer to in practice can vary from place to place."

He shifted a bit in his chair. "Here in New York, that's Legend. He's too busy for much direct oversight, but he's the head of the Protectorate as a whole and a member of the Triumvirate besides. Challenging him on Wards policy would be career suicide." Jason stopped and rolled his shoulder. Some kind of nervous tick maybe?

I nodded to show I was following the explanation and motioned for Jason to keep going.

"Legend… don't get me wrong. He's a great guy, and his hearts in the right place, but he doesn't want any of us to be in an us or them situation."

"That's…" It was naive. I'd signed up to be a hero knowing it would happen at some point. Yes, I'd rather take people in nonlethally, hell, nonviolently if I could manage it. But I could guarantee that wouldn't always be possible. To deny it and not prepare for the worst was just… that couldn't possibly make things better when it did inevitably happen.

"I know." Jason grumbled and rubbed at his temples. "The way the Wards are set up here is part of it too. The clubhouse keeps the really little kids out of fights altogether. Army has to hope they stumble across something if they want to do more than just walk around in costume. That or be lucky enough to be close when something does go down. But that just makes him mother hen us and the Lancers all the more. Plus, the head of the PR department is based here, and he's on board with Legend's agenda because us not looking cuddly makes his job harder." Jason waved his hand around as he gave of an aggravated huff.

"Topping off the whole shitshow is the damn Youth Guard. We have a lot of Wards in New York and that makes them pay us extra attention. Wards in a situation where they have to kill someone is all the justification, they need to come down on everyone like a ton of bricks. Nobody wants to deal with their shit."

"I knew there would be heavy restrictions, but I never imagined they'd be this bad." Shirou muttered sounding only a little less exasperated then I felt.

"... You said I'd be able to fight here. That I'd actually be able to do some good… was that a lie, or?" I trailed off not even sure I knew how to properly ask the questions that were still forming in my mind as I struggled to digest the new information.

"We do get our fair share of fights." He reassured. "Not near as often as the Lancers do because people know to book it before backup can arrive and bury them. But trust me, we are not just here to look pretty." He grinned as he delivered that last line. "After all, that's what the PR punishment detail is for."

I huffed out a little half lough as I cracked the smallest of smiles. "Ok, but if that's true what the heck am I supposed to do when people start shooting at me?"

"Get behind cover." He answered promptly. "That's the first thing you do. Then you let me tank the bullets or let Danny draw their fire while ghosting. When the guns are dealt with, we'll give the all clear and you can have your turn."

"That's… I hadn't thought of that." I mumbled abashedly. Up till now I'd never factored a team into any of my strategy sessions with Shirou. It had always just been my abilities. But if I could count on them to handle gunfire for me…

"Sorry, I… Shirou's been the first person I could rely on in… well it's been awhile now." I shook my head before rushing on. This was not a pity party, and I'd be damned if I let my team leader think I was fishing for some. "I know I'm part of a team now, but I'm not used to thinking like that. It's just been 'how could I deal with lots of guns' not 'how can the team deal with them.'" I gave Jason a week grin. "Everything I could come up with on my own either left me pinned down, which is a bad plan, or it would have meant cutting loose, at least a little bit." I shrugged and looked away.

Jason just shot me a comforting smile. "It's ok." He reassured. "You might have had your powers for a little while now, but you haven't had any training with how we do things. We'll get you up to speed."

"Thank you." I said warmly. Jason smiled back before heading off to the room the girls had disappeared into.

"Guess we still have a lot to learn, Shirou."

"Mmm. I suppose we do." Shirou answered thoughtfully. "We knew it would be different from my experiences, but I don't think we quite understood how much so until now."

I hummed agreeably. "We'll figure it out though. We've come this far. I'm not about to give up now."

I could feel Shirou's smirk. "Good." Was all he said before settling into silence as I went back to reading the stupid manual.

{}{}{}{}

The air is blisteringly hot. Dry heat, not a touch of humidity. I'm laid out flat on the roof of a building a little way back from the edge with a sniper rifle snug against my shoulder as the noon day sun beats down on my back. All around me were battered buildings in shades of grey and brown. Between the buildings the ground is as much sand as it is dirt. What little grass grows here is all brown and scraggly. All this is seen through my left eye. My right eye is looking through the rifle sight.

I'm waiting, watching. Three men wearing cloaks and turbans. Each one is carrying an AK-47. A car pulls up and the men quickly stand at something resembling attention. A fourth man steps out of the back seat of the van, older, with a grey beard, and noticeably better clothes. I make a minor adjustment and take a slow breath. Then pull the trigger. The rifle kicks and the bang of a shot fired pushes harshly against my ears. The older man collapses as a small spray of red coats a bit of the van behind him. The others are turning guns rising. I fire again, and again, and again. The gunmen go down. The van starts moving but I don't have a shot at the driver. Unimportant. The man isn't armed. I let him go. Moving quickly, I sling my rifle over my back and start running.

{}{}{}{}

Gasping I shot up in bed. Frantically I looked around the room before coming back to myself. My room in Siege squad's barracks was plain. I hadn't had the time to customize anything about it yet. Just my bed desk and a small dresser for clothes. But there were little touches that marked it as mine. A half dozen butterfly knives in different color schemes with a mixture of practice and live blades were scattered about the room on various surfaces. My dartboard, the same one I'd been given more than two months ago rested on the wall opposite my bed. It was showing a lot of wear and tear at this point and sported a mixed handful of actual darts, throwing knives, throwing stars, and even a sharpened metal playing card.

With one more explosive sigh I flopped back onto my bed.

"The dream cycle again?" Shirou asked.

"Yeah, looked like the Middle East. Did you use sniper rifles often? That's the first time I've seen you use one." I asked rubbing at my eyes. I'd gotten used to disturbing dreams of Shirou killing people. They usually hit me once or twice a week. But they almost always unnerved me and had me waking up ready to fight for my life, or run. Not fun, but I had gotten used to it.

"Hmm, when I was alive, I used them often enough. They drew less attention then arrows fired from more than a mile away. After all, anyone, or any faction, can use a sniper. Arrows tended to stand out in the twenty first century."

"Right, makes sense. Just never really thought of you as one to use anything that couldn't be found on a medieval battlefield." I mumbled as the last vestiges of sleep finally faded.

Shirou didn't bother dignifying that with a response beyond a scoff, so I groaned and rolled out of bed. Might as well get a start on the day. I needed breakfast. I was meeting with the head of the PR department at ten. Why the man wanted to handle my case personally was beyond me though. Someone in his position ought to have at least a few people working for him he trusted to handle new capes. Hopefully once I was done with that nonsense, I could tempt Lily into a sparring match when she came in tonight.

I had a lot of reservations about fencing, mainly that it was a dueling style and not suited for dealing with multiple opponents. But Lilly had made it work for a couple years before getting her arbalest. Hopefully she could give me a few pointers. Even if it wasn't what I wanted for my go to style I wasn't going to turn my nose up at a chance to learn something useful. And any combat practice was better than none. Maybe I could convince her to let me try my luck with a few other weapons as well.

Humming thoughtfully, I stretched out and made my way to the little kitchen area. Something to think about for later. Eggs and toast sounded good. Nice and simple. Just because Shirou wanted to pass on his cooking skills didn't mean I was going to go all out all the time. Sometimes simple is best after all.

{}{}{}{}

Glenn Chambers office was spacious and filled with an eclectic selection of superhero merchandise, photos, and even a few costumed mannequins. It was almost exactly what I had been expecting when I'd been told I was set to meet the head of PR. The one thing that truly seemed out of place was the rather round man sitting behind the desk wearing a tight fitting, neon green t-shirt, that depicted Myrridan.

"Ah, our newest Ward! Come in, come in!" He didn't quite shout. It was more that he just projected his voice to carry. "Have a seat. I'll be with you in just a moment."

The man, whom I could only assume was Glenn, turned his attention back to the woman standing at the edge of his desk as he tapped at something on his desk. As I got closer, I realized they were posters.

"Take these back to marketing and tell them I want them using brighter backgrounds. I'll be busy for the next hour or so. So be sure to tell them to have plenty of mockups ready. That should be more than enough time."

The woman nodded rapidly before collecting the posters and power walking out of the room.

"Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you miss," He trailed off expectantly even as he offered me his hand to shake.

Shaking it I could only shrug my shoulders as I settled into an empty chair. "Haven't really got a name yet. I kicked around a few ideas, but I was a lot more concerned with getting the hang of my powers. Well, that, and dealing with all the shrinks."

"Ahh, yes. That unfortunate business. Well you're in luck that's one of the things I'm here to help you with." He gave me what I suspect was supposed to be a charming smile. Between how he looked and how little I trusted anyone that climbed this high in any sort of organization… Yeah, no. If anything, it just put me more on edge.

"Right, not to sound too rude, but why am I meeting with you? Shouldn't you have people to handle this for you?"

Glenn hummed thoughtfully for a moment. "Normally? Yes. I often take time to work with the Wards individually, but that's often limited to correcting public relations issues. In your case though there are some issues I felt we needed to address."

"Such as?" I kept my voice carefully neutral.

"Well for starters I felt I should apologize. I was one of the people who pushed to turn down your request to be allowed to leave with your cape name and image." He said it so calmly. As if it was of no more importance than what he might have for lunch today.

"Taylor," Archer's voice cut through my rising outrage. "keep your head." There was caution and tempered anger in his voice.

I took a deep breath and bit down on my anger. Archer was right. If this prick had the kind of power to influence that decision, I didn't want to blow up at him. Not yet anyway. I might have signed on even without my escape clause, but I sure wasn't happy about it. I'd certainly given Legend a look when I signed my contract. My threat was still very much an option if things went bad here.

"Why?" I asked frigidly.

"Well the last time someone left with their cape name and costume was Mouse Protector." Glenn blew out a long suffering sigh. "Why my predecessor allowed that catastrophe is beyond me. She consistently comes in the top twenty in cape popularity polls even though she's been independent for years. Every time people think of her they remember that one of the original Wards left the program to work on her own. It's terrible for our credibility." He shook his head sadly. "No, I simply refuse to repeat one of my predecessors' greatest mistakes."

"... I take it back. The man's an idiot. Feel free to rip a chunk out of his hide."

I growled but otherwise manage to not start lambasting the man.

"The only way the situation could have been worse is if she had died shortly after parting ways." Glenn continued, and as he said that he eyed me sharply and I felt the pieces click into place.

"... Alright I definitely don't like him but, he's not an idiot." I admitted to Shirou.

"Mmph. No, I suppose not."

"That's a reasonable worry I suppose. Though if someone were to make a big enough stink as they left… I think a name change would do very little to actually limit the fallout." I countered sourly. "Being forced to change their name and costume would really just be one more thing the average person might find offensive about an already bad situation."

Glenn's lip twitched upward ever so slightly. "Perhaps." He waved a hand lazily through the air. "But one person getting into a mudslinging match with an entire organization? That sounds like a losing battle."

"Oh, maybe." I admitted with feigned disinterest. "Then again you just admitted that one of the most successful and popular capes in the country decided the Protectorate wasn't worth being a part of. Similar success from someone with a concrete list of grievances they're willing to air in public? I think that might be remembered, don't you?" I asked. Sugar and acid dripped from my words in equal measure.

The fat bastard actually had the temerity to chuckle. "Perhaps, but most independents don't last nearly so long. Besides, I find once people have made connections, they tend to have a hard time leaving a group."

"And if such a Ward were to die shortly after making a fuss and airing their grievances?" I was honestly morbidly curious what his answer might be.

"Obviously such a terrible tragedy could have been avoided if the poor child had still had backup from the Wards and Protectorate. Perhaps a few changes need to be made to the program to prevent similarly frustrated teens from following such a risky example." Glenn shrugged.

"I am very reluctantly impressed." Shirou stated honestly.

"Yeah, same. Man's a slime ball but he knows what he's doing." I grumbled back.

"Hopefully such an unfortunate chain of events won't ever play out." I said as blandly as I could manage. "And if I do end up leaving… well a long and successful carrier would certainly be excellent revenge."

"On a slightly lighter topic I'd like to talk to you about your, shall we say, built in instructor."

"Shirou? What about him?" I asked with just a bit of a warning edge to my words. "Shirou what have you gotten me into this time?"

"Don't look at me." He grumbled.

"Simply put? I would very much prefer you never mention him in public. We can spin nearly anything. Unfortunately, your situation is tinfoil hat bait. If it becomes public knowledge there will always be someone who insists you are actually insane, or a new Butcher, or that you consumed someone's soul, or something equally absurd. It's much simpler to avoid the issue."

Oh, was that all? "Sure, last thing I want is to end up back in an asylum because the public had a collective conniption fit." I agreed easily.

"Glad as I am you are so reasonable about this, please don't ever speak like that in costume." Glenn's tone spoke of personal suffering and minimal tolerance.

I shrugged not wanting to get into that conversation. At all.

"So, costume and name." I deflected. "I've actually got something in mind for the costume already. Well, I should say I have a starting point for my costume already. I want to base it on Shirou's old outfit. It's actually pretty good but I'm going to need a helmet or mask. And I'm not sure what kind of materials you have for the armored portion. Do you have a room I can change in? I can trace myself a basic copy. It probably won't be professional quality, but it should give you the basic idea."

"Hmmm." Glenn eyed me carefully. I wasn't sure if he was debating the point of even looking at some 'amateurs' idea of a costume, or if he was less than happy with my deflection. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. "In there. It'll be a bit cramped but there should be enough room to change." He pointed to a door off to the left side of the office.

Nodding I got to work.

Three minutes later I was back in front of Glenn's desk wearing Shirou's black and red outfit, plus the standard domino mask I'd been wearing every time I left the Ward's room. Glenn was now eyeing me as if I had gone from just another part of his day to something actually worth attention. It almost could have been gratifying if I gave a damn about fashion, or if the outfit had been mine originally. Instead it just annoyed me that he seemed surprised I had a decent costume idea.

"I'm not really a fan of the sleeves." I said frankly. "They look pretty cool, but they aren't really going to be enough to keep me warm during winter. And the tassels just seem goofy to me."

"Hey!" Shirou sounded only mildly offended.

"Mmm, yes I see what you mean. Perhaps a heavy coat for winter and a windbreaker for when it warms up." He jotted down a few notes quickly before refocusing on me. "Though I can see a number of other details we're going to need to change." Glenn murmured thoughtfully as he looked me up and down again. It was a strictly clinical look.

I shrugged. "What did you have in mind." I asked. He was the professional here… no matter how hard that might be to believe given his personal fashion sense. Besides this was Shirou's look. I wanted to use it as a base, not copy him exactly.

"The straps on the pants need to go. They don't serve any purpose, do they?" He asked the last bit rather sharply.

I shook my head in negation. "Not really."

"Then they need to go." He said decisively. "We want you to look like a hero, not a punk rocker." He hummed thoughtfully. "Though really, you have legs a model might envy. Perhaps turn the half cloak into a skirt and replace the pants with leggings…" He trailed of as he caught sight of my scowl.

"I'm not here to be a model, I'm here to stop criminals and help people. Pants are more practical and sturdier." I firmly rebuked. I might be proud of how my legs looked now, but I wasn't going to risk flashing my underwear to some criminal just so I could show off and end up on the walls and ceilings of creepy teenage boys. My ego did not need that kind of boost. Or maybe he meant something more like yoga pants?

...On second thought that would almost be worse than wearing stockings and a skirt.

"Besides, that would have the same problem as the sleeves." I picked at one of said sleeves. "Not nearly warm enough for the colder months."

"Yes, but a skirt and leggings would emphasize your femininity. That chest armor you are wearing isn't doing you any favors." He said critically.

I gave Glenn a very firm glare. I was an A cup. I would likely always be and A cup. But the armor would stay even if it made me look flat as a washboard. I could deal with having small breasts. What I could not deal with was having bullet holes in my body.

"Though with hair like that no one is going to mistake you for boy." He relented. "How best to display it though?" He tapped a pen against his desk. "Do you normally wear your hair loose like that?"

I nodded.

"We'll go with a ponytail for when you are in costume then. That one streak of white you seem to be developing might be an issue though. Is that a result of your powers?"

"Near as I can tell, yeah."

"We'll look into some hair dyes then. Otherwise it's going to give you away fairly quickly."

That was a fair point. I might have tried dying it before, but just getting a shampoo I liked had been an issue two days ago, never mind hair dye. I didn't really dislike the white streak in my hair, but I did like the idea of having a secret identity so that was really the end of the matter.

"Sure, I'll look for some the next time I go out shopping."

Glenn shook his head. "Don't bother. I'll have some sent along with your costume once it's ready."

"Alright, saves me the trouble."

"The domino mask doesn't really work with the look. We're going to want a helmet I think. Visor over the eyes, leave the mouth open, naturally. Hmm a whole at the back you can feed a ponytail through… What colors though…" he drummed his fingers against his desk. Red for the helmet itself, black for the visor, and perhaps some white accents along the side? Yes. That should work nicely."

"A black visor? Won't that mess up my vision?"

"No, not at all actually. It's one of the more useful tinker inventions, and thankfully one simple enough Dragon can mass produce it easily." Glenn answered absentmindedly as he continued to look me up and down even as he started to sketch away at a pad. "It's a sort of one way mirror. Very strong, hard to break, doesn't impede sight looking out, but completely opaque from the other side."

"Very useful." I admitted. "What about the chest armor?"

"Mm a bit trickier that." He mumbled now completely focused on his pad, scribbling furiously. "We have a tinker who makes a sort of leather like substance that should do the trick. Highly bullet resistant. Testing has seen it stop buckshot regularly, it's also rather flame retardant."

I whistled appreciatively. "That'll work just fine." I said grinning a little.

"That'll be better than fine." Shirou spoke up, sounding pleased. "That kind of stopping power with reinforcement on top of it? It won't protect your limbs, but it will certainly keep your important bits safe."

We sat in silence for a few minutes as Glenn drew something. Finally, the man gave a satisfied hum and spun the pad around for me to see. The drawing was a bit rough but clearly depicted me in an altered version of Shirou's outfit.

The pants and boots remained largely the same, minus the straps. Shirou's waist cape had been replaced though with an asymmetrical skirt that emphasized my slim hips. On my right side it would fall to just below my hip. Across my front it would maintain that length until reaching my left hip where it would start to dip dramatically to meet the fabric along my back which lengthened in an arc. The lowest edge would match Shirou's cape behind my left leg about three inches below my knee.

The chest armor remained largely the same, although with some slight modifications to make it better fit my build and subtly emphasize my breasts. Over that was a red windbreaker which had been cut off. Oh the sleeves were full length, but the body of it had been trimmed so it would rest at about the base of my ribs. Like that it would leave my developing abs, or rather the armor that would highlight them, exposed.

Finally, was the helmet. It was red and left the lower face exposed, with a simple black visor over the eyes. There were a trio of parallel white lines that began at the edge of the visor and presumably would rap all the way around the helmet. Protruding from the back was a long black ponytail.

Taking it all in I glanced up at Glenn a bit wide eyed. He grinned back in a very self satisfied manner.

"I know you shot down the skirt and leggings idea, but I think this over the pants is a fair compromise." He said it almost magnanimously.

I wanted to object, mainly because the idea of wearing a skirt over pants sounded silly… but it actually looked pretty good. It wasn't really any odder then Shirou's cape when I thought about it.

"It's good." I finally admitted. "I wouldn't have thought of it but it's actually really good."

Glenn hummed happily. "Naturally we'll want a full coat for the winter months, gloves too, and likely a scarf as well. But For warmer weather and indoor promotional events I think this is look will work very well. As long as you don't have any objections?" He asked arching one eyebrow.

I glanced over the sketch one final time before shaking my head and handing it back to him. "No objections from me. Though I would say that any gloves need to be fingerless or they'll interfere with my fighting… so I guess the winter jacket should have pockets I can stick my hands in… Maybe also include a lighter coat for when it's a bit cold, but not bad enough to need the winter jacket. Oh! And a helmet camera. I know were supposed to be careful, but, well… Most of my weapons are blades of some sort. I'd rather have video evidence in case something ever goes wrong."

Glenn nodded thoughtfully and jotted down a few notes along the side of the sketch.

"The camera is a good precaution. Though I must stress that you work with your team to develop less risky uses for your power. Having a recording of any fights is just as likely to work against you if it seems like you were acting recklessly." I nodded accepting the advice. I might not like how the Protectorate hamstrung us in fights, but I'd need to work with it regardless for now. "Well I must say that went far quicker than I had anticipated when you said you already had a costume in mind. Quite a few people can be very uncooperative when that happens."

"Shirou's old outfit is a good base to work from." I replied easily. "But I'm not him. I don't fight the way he does, I've got a different build, were not even the same gender. Making changes to make the look mine… it feels right." I shrugged unsure how to further articulate my point.

Glenn seamed to understand though and just nodded. "Right, well, your costume doesn't really lend itself to any particular theme so your options for names won't be limited by one either." He took a moment to search through the drawers of his desk before surfacing with a folder. He leafed through several pages before setting aside what looked to be a half dozen, more detailed, costume sketches. Then he passed me a sheet of paper with a list of names on it.

I couldn't quite fight off a grimace as I worked my way down the list. "These all seem…" I spun my right hand in a circle as I searched for the right word. "Generic."

Glenn huffed out a breath of air. Something between amused and exasperated. "And you think names like Legend, or Hero were any better before people had faces and accomplishments to go with them?" He asked seriously as he pointed his pencil at me. "No, I rather agree with you. Most cape names are quite uninspired and dull. It's up to the cape in question to make the name mean something."

I shot him an appraising look before glancing over the list again. "I'd thought about just calling myself Emiya, it's Shirou's family name. I suppose that would draw a lot of attention for being so unusual, wouldn't it?"

"You never mentioned that to me." Shirou sounded rather touched by the idea.

"Well… I wasn't sure what you would think of it. I didn't want to offend you." I admitted.

"I would be flattered if you did." Shirou declared firmly. I smiled lightly and sent a mental hug his way.

"A caucasian teenager going by a Japanese family name while in costume? Yes, that would put you right at the center of a great deal of speculation, and probably no small amount of jokes." Glenn deadpanned.

"I get the feeling Glenn isn't going to let you though." Shirou stated flatly with just a hint of irritation coloring his words. I could clearly feel much more than a hint of it coming off of his mental presence. I suppose he really had appreciated the idea.

I took another minute to go over Glenn's list of suggested names whittling away the worst options until only a few remained. At last I set the paper down on his desk and tapped my selection with a finger.

"Arsenal. It's not a great name, but I'll make it work."

Glenn nodded firmly. "Certainly, one of the better options." With that said he circled my choice and stapled it to his rough sketch and pulled out some kind of form and started filling it in. "I'm going to hand you off to our costume team now. They'll get you measurements and see to ordering your costume." He continued to fill out the paperwork in front of him before stapling that to the other sheets. With a nod to himself he hit a button on his desk phone.

"Martha, I need you to take miss Arsenal down to Violet for her costume fitting."

"Yes, Mr. Chambers!" A peppy voice filtered through the speaker. A moment later the door opened and the blonde secretary I'd passed on my way in entered.

Glenn stood and offered me his hand over the desk. I quickly stood and shook it.

"Well, Arsenal, it's been a pleasure meeting you. I wish you the best of luck."

"Thanks." I answered simply. I wasn't really sure how I felt about Glenn. He definitely wasn't someone I wanted to get to know better, and he'd shut down my escape clause and my preferred cape name. But he was clearly a competent professional who hadn't tried, to hard at least, to stick me in some outfit that would get in my way.

Taking my paperwork, I followed Martha out of the room. In the end I gave up on trying to understand the man. What mattered is that I was one step closer.