"Ah." Saturday looks - disappointed? Resigned? Like someone hearing a story they've heard before, a lot, and discovering it's just a boring and awful when aliens do it. "The nail that sticks up, gets hammered down, eh? People are like that. My best friend caught tons of shit for being smart an' shy 'til she turned up magic, an' then it got worse cause they were scared of her."

A little ork girl appears briefly in the center of the room, teary-eyed and fearful, looking at them like she doesn't know if she's going to get hit or hugged. She's gone as fast as she appears, as Saturday politely takes hold of her mind and banishes the memory.

"It worked out in the end. She came to the Center an' we met an' nobody fucks with my friends, now or ever. I sorted it, an' when we grew up a bit she could sort it herself. So that's all right."

She leans back a bit on the bed, thinking about what Brainy mentioned before: his fear of himself, of what he could become. It makes a little more sense now, in that not-making-sense way things do when they go straight to the bone. Be hated; hate in return. The only way out of that game is deciding not to play, and sticking to it no matter who tries to make you or how.

"Gettin' your kid out an' breaking that cycle is a good thing. Doesn't make all the rest worth it, but it's something to be proud of. Lotta people who didn't even have it this bad can't manage as much."