OurPowers: Video

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Display Name: Galatea
Profile Photo: None
Notes: N/A

[Since the false universe had...ended? Collapsed? She'd felt its loss far ore keenly than she'd felt anything in her entire life. She couldn't remember it. She knew it had existed, but she couldn't remember what had happened - and why she felt such a profound sense of loss over it.]

[Whatever it was caused an ache in her heart, a feeling she'd never experienced before. She'd never had anything to really lose, before. Cadmus hadn't encouraged much of anything in the way of possessions. She was a weapon, made for a mission. And that had been enough.]

[Here, though, she'd begun to follow her own desires, and that had been fun and then there was...there was...something. Something warm, and perfect and its loss caused her such sadness.]

[And having nobody to talk to about that, and never having experienced these feelings before...]

[The video comes on, and she's clearly handed the device over to an onlooker. In the distance, there is a massive-looking robot, a good eight feet tall. It's surrounded by police cars, which it is firing into with an arm-mounted gatling gun. The story has been on the news, some mad scientist or other - the police have her in custody already - but her creation has been absconding with materials...until now.]

Just make sure they see, ok?

[The camera is held, shakily, a voice mentioning this is a bad idea on their part - but Galatea launches up into the sky, streaking for altitude.]

[She has no idea what these feelings are. But she's sure she knows how to make them better. And so it is that the robot looks up, single red eye glowing, raising its arm and firing into the sky as a white-clad blur slams down into it. The bullets do nothing to her, and the robot is driven into the ground. And then she starts to slam her fists down into its chestplate, the sound of them ringing off the metal drowning out everything.]

[One of the robot's arms manages to strike her across the head, and this creates a look on her face of even greater rage. She steps down hard on the shoulder joint, ripping the arm from its socket with a roar. And then strikes the robot across the head over and over again with it, until the face plate comes flying off - and then, breaking the arm over her leg and tossing it aside, she balls her fists and unleashes a blast of red eye beams directly into the robot's sensitive circuitry, frying through it in seconds. Only when the robot stops moving does she reach down, tearing the remains of the head free and then crushing it bit by bit between her hands, until it's just a lump of metal.]

[She steps away from it, floating a few inches off the ground, past the faces of police who are less thankful than confused - and a bit frightened. She retrieves her device, and before it shuts off, her voice can be heard again - and the especially keen-eyed may think they noticed a tear on her cheek.]

There. That'll show them.

Day. Saved.

Comments

[torchbearer]

[ this seems very healthy. ]

You okay?

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Yep. It didn't even scratch me.

[Very carefully interpreting that another way.]

I mean, bullets really. At least it tried AP rounds, but sheesh.

[torchbearer]

Yeah, I didn't really mean in the physical sense.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Pfft, what other sense is there?

[She says, with false bravado.]

[torchbearer]

Lots of different senses? Mental health isn't exactly new in this day and age.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Buddy, I just took down a robot. What's mental health about that? I mean, awesome, sure, but...

[torchbearer]

[ seriously . . . ]

Yeah, pretty sure taking down robots to feel good about yourself isn't the win you think it is.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Oh please, I'm just doing my job. Making a reputation, right? I mean, sure it feels kinda good to win. Who doesn't feel that way, though?

[Thing is, he's talking with a vocabulary she doesn't even possess. Cadmus hadn't much bothered with teaching her about self-care, or to evaluate why she's doing something.]

( private )

[torchbearer]

[ kyle sighs. should he care? probably not. but he kind of does. bleeding heart. ]

Okay, cards on the table. You don't have the first clue about being a superhero right? Lab-raised? Clone? Some weird planet that has Superman issues?

Re: ( private )

[fearfully_symmetrical]

H-hey! You don't even know me! Where do you get off saying any of this crap?!

[Because defensiveness will absolutely help.]

[torchbearer]

Trust me, I'm not enjoying this.

But also, you're not as subtle as you think you are.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[She grits her teeth.]

Yeah, well...shut up!

[Dammit she could have done better than that.]

[torchbearer]

Savage.

Look, if it's obvious to me, it's going to look obvious to anyone else. Why the act?

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[And the look on her face will make it obvious that she had no idea whatsoever that it was.]

Look, it's hard, ok?

[Her fists clench a few times.]

It's only me. It's only ever been me. I don't have friends, or...or co-workers. I don't even have people telling me what to do. I barely understood the last universe, and here I am in an even weirder one.

[torchbearer]

It is hard.

[ his acknowledgement is gentle. in his first month, his girlfriend was violently murdered. he had no one and no help. trying to pull himself out of that fugue took everything in him. ]

But people will help you if you let them. Do you want some help? Or some pointers?

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[She crosses her arms, defensively.]

I don't need any help. I'm invulnerable. It can't be that hard if someone like Batman gets to run around doing it.

[That was the one Waller had spoken about the most, anyway. Why is she parroting her? Her face shows the disconnect in the moment.]

[torchbearer]

Being invulnerable doesn't mean jack shit. Everyone needs help. Even Batman and Superman. No one starts with a manual.

Thanks for putting up with Captain Stubborn here

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[No one starts with a manual. It's that comment that sticks out to her. And just as suddenly as it arose again, the hard facade crumbled.]

Can...you keep a secret?

[Actual, real human empathy is so new to her. But all the more powerful as a result.]

[torchbearer]

. . . Yeah. It'll stay between us.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[She's quiet for a moment, brow furrowed, trying to find the words she wants.]

I've never been...you know, independent before. There were...orders, right? And that made sense, I was doing good but now I don't know what's good here, because...

[She runs out of mental track, throwing her hands up in frustration.]

[torchbearer]

[ yeah. he could see that. ]

Because there's no one here to help you figure out what's good or bad. I get that.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Or how to do either one the right way. I've got battle tactics up the wazoo, but.

[She sort of gestures vaguely, as it to take in everything she's been doing today.]

Clearly those tend to worry people.

[And dammit, she wants to be the hero. Like what Supergirl gets. Got. Gets wherever she is.]

[torchbearer]

Yeah, battle tactics aren't going to make you a lot of friends. I'm not saying they're not helpful, but there's a time and place for certain skills.

You just need to develop some new ones.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[She wants to bury her face in her hands. She doesn't want to even tell him any of this, but he's...he's someone to talk to. Who seems to know something, at least.]

What if I can't? What if it's too late?

[torchbearer]

You're here and you've already made the step to try.

That means it's not too late.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[She manages to huff a bit of a smile, summoning up a ghost of sarcasm.]

You say this stuff a lot, don't you?

[torchbearer]

Not as much as you might think.

But I'm not against the opportunity.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[She seems ready to say a lot more, but instead pauses.]

Ok, so, like, I'm not...good at this, obviously. I'm good at breaking things.

But if I wanted to get better at things, would you be...

[Ugh, the word 'help' sticks in her throat. She can't help it.]

A coach. I'm looking for...a coach here. If you're willing.

[Ugh she wants to hide her face or incinerate something, and she's not sure which one more.]

[torchbearer]

[ he just smiles. ]

Sure, I can manage that.

un: Bouncing Boy

[pinball_wizard]

Nice work.

[A little too brutal for his tastes, and clearly something was bothering her, but Chuck wasn't going to armchair superhero.]

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[She shrugs]

All in a day's work and all that.

>> action!

[hevenly]

[ Angela sees the video. At first, she doesn't think much of it. She'd followed the story of the mad roboticist as one follows local news stories that don't have much to do with them— only tangentially.

But when she sees the white and blonde streak tearing the robot apart piece by piece, dealing brutal blows as bullets ricochet harmlessly off of her invulnerable skin... Angela feels something inside her twist. It's like a hand has wrapped itself around her heart and is tugging her towards this woman.

She cannot put a voice to why this is happening, but she knows better than to ignore it.

Not even bothering to respond via OurPowers, Angela takes to the streets, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, using her heightened tracking senses to find her way to this woman who (hopefully) will hold some answers. ]

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[It should have done more. The feelings are still there, just...diluted. Great.]

[She makes her way upwards, then, though even flight seems not to have its usual magic. Part of her just wants to scream into the night, figuratively and literally, and just...see how high she can get before she's cast back down to Earth...]

[Instead, with a sigh, she settles on the high edge of a rooftop, perched like a bird, looking out at the moon.]

text | un: Nox

[a_gaggle_of_ghosties]

[He has considerable doubt that Rue Moore's nonsense is the real reason behind whatever this is, or even the primary one, but that's something he'd be keeping to himself for now. Not like he's likely to be even remotely qualified to help with anything else, anyway.]

Those of us who elect not to join either of the guilds will be viewed with suspicion for it no matter what heroics are performed.

Try not to take it personally, it only means you'll be giving them more consideration than they're willing to spare for any of us.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Yeah, I'm not a joiner.

And I'll take it plenty personally. If they want me to prove something, I can do that. I can do that a lot.

[a_gaggle_of_ghosties]

Arguably the wisest course of action. I'm not overly fond of the Society, and the Alliance has an insufferable gloryhound trying to grab the controls.

You can do as you wish, but I'd advise against setting any expectations. You just tore apart a war droid with your bare hands, at this point it would require less effort to terrify everyone than win them over.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[Ugh, she'd realized that one a while ago.]

Hey, if a few scared people don't commit crimes, I'm doing my job, right?

[a_gaggle_of_ghosties]

I would not disagree. When carefully managed, fear makes for a powerful ally. But there are drawbacks.

For one, it tends to terrify the people you're trying to help as much as the ones you're trying to punish. Though I suppose that only qualifies as a drawback if you care what they think of you.

In all likelihood it also attracts unwanted attention from the guilds, though they seem to be taking a hands-off approach to our affairs. At least for now.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Trust me, not like they could do much of anything to hurt me even if they tried.

[A bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but she's confident and how will he know any different?]

And it's not a hard equation. Don't do crimes, I won't have to pound you into the ground. They'll figure it out.

[slowmotionbuscrash]

Damn. Remind me not to get on your bad side.

Not that I would, since we’re both busy saving the day.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Oh, this? This was nothing. I mean, robots, right?

It'd take a lot more than that to give me any trouble.

[slowmotionbuscrash]

Robots are repairable. As long as they're not synthezoids or sentient AI. It's like Skrulls. They'll grow back.

So, what's up? This some sort of statement on how you don't have to join a guild to be a hero, or should I not ask in public?

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Never heard of a Skrull, but I've sure as heck run into stuff like it, I'm guessing.

And hey, just doing the job. Independently.

[slowmotionbuscrash]

Yeah, you can take care of a lot of shit solo. Teams are all right. Actual teams, like 4-8 people. The guilds are huge. Different vibe. Like if you made being a superhero a desk job.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

Ew. That sounds like the worst job I've ever heard of.

[Not that she needs a team. Not that she needs anybody.]

[slowmotionbuscrash]

I know someone who actually worked that job. Superhero help calls. Imagine trying to talk a boomer hero through anything.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[Something that ought to tell a lot about her is rather obviously in her response.]

What's a boomer?

[She pauses]

I mean, other than a missile submarine.

[When raised by a covert intelligence/military group...]

[slowmotionbuscrash]

One of the people born in the Baby Boom. Don't ask me the years - something something World War II and I don't care. They're old and generally suck. They walk around talking about the American way like it means anything good.

[fearfully_symmetrical]

[Man, they sure did. So much so that they'd provided all the funding for CADMUS and, well, her. To keep 'the American way' exactly the way they wanted.]

Oh, them. I know them. Pretty boring.

I'm more of an 'action and excitement' kinda person, y'know?