Secrets Stalled

“The key to hiding your identity–” Jester Bee groaned, slouching in her seat as the Sage froze on the screen.

“Every time,” she muttered. She’d find it comical, a facet she normally appreciated, but it happened whenever he started to reveal the profoundly important secrets.

“What’s the matter,” a deep voice taunted behind her. Jester Bee granted he’d gotten the tenor of a jeer nearly perfect. Nearly. The boy’s voice breaking marred the perfection.

Rounding in her chair, Jester Bee grabbed its back and scowled at Siege Armor. “Ya got something to say to me?”

Siege glanced away. The briefest of flicker she would’ve missed if she hadn’t been watching. “Yeah,” he said with lying confidence. “If you weren’t a villain, you wouldn’t be concerned about hiding your identity.”

Jester Bee snorted. “Oh, so Storm Trace shouldn’t have been concerned? Or Arctictronic? Pyroaxe?” She rattled off several more names before Siege slunk into his seat. She’d named all the heroes who’d been exposed.

And died.

“Paranoid nutjob,” Siege muttered.

Standing Jester Bee clenched her left hand into a fist which lengthened into a point. “I’ll show you–”

“That’s enough.” A force washed over her and Jester Bee, dropping them into their seats. Her head lolled beneath abrupt exhaustion. Glancing at the screen, she saw the stream hadn’t simply unfrozen.

The Sage stood at the front, shaking his head. Snorting she dropped her gaze again. Jester bee never appreciated gramps transferring himself to interfere in her disputes.