Remnants

Scatter 1-1

Ruby Returns

Author's Note: Redone Chapter 1! So lets see if I can't fix this up a little bit :D

So real question here, I noticed that I, personally, use hand motions while I speak("speaking with my hands" as it's called)(apparently it's a french thing?) I tried to insert some of that in the chapter because I find it fits the whole show not tell methodology of story telling. Did it work out?

It was small. It stank of rot and decay. My head was pounding as blood poured over my eyes causing them to water up. The filth was getting in my cuts, it felt like my body was being burnt away. The cuts were going to be infected when, no if, I got out of the metal coffin. My throat was horse and dry from crying out for help since getting trapped here.

I could deal with the usual bullying. The name calling and the harassment was nothing new and ultimately things I could endure. The betrayal of my best friend was more painful, but Emma had been easing up so I let down her guard. How could I have been so naive? Sophia and her two minions had somehow filled my locker with used sanitary pads and other disgusting trash.

The winter break had already started for the rest of the students of Winslow High school, and the staff had already left for the holidays. The cold, biting air had already begun to invade my lungs as my breathing slowed down and my shoulders began to shake. To think I had the audacity to think that my holiday could start well.

I am going to die. I know that now. This was the end of my life and I was utterly powerless to do anything about it. My three tormentors have finally managed to beat me. All those people who had seen the event left me and forgotten that my life was in danger. Even the teachers and adults that we were supposed to trust must have known about this. Who could I trust now that their real faces were shown to me?

Space spanned out infinitely. Two beings that belied description existed. They moved away and back again. Thousands of flakes, each bigger than everything drifted away from the two.

Intersection

Destination?

Agreement

Trajectory?

Agreement

The last thought I had was of a fresh cut rose and a flash of red.

The light of early morning shook me from my rest. Around the room, I could make out several jars of water had crystalline structures of every colour, some even growing out of the jar into the air. I reached and picked up my glasses, the thick frames resting on my nose. The thin layer of snow outside the window was pretty.

Crap, it was almost morning and all of my jars were still out.

I was up in my room not a whole minute latter, a small storm of rose petals fluttering to the ground. I sighed as I held a cloth to the finger I cut to fuel the growth. Once the blood stopped seeping thought the rag, I got a broom and swept up the petals that I left behind. The rose petals that I left behind were a bother, but a small price to pay for being a parahuman. My first weapon was still laying on my bed when I returned from hiding the rose petals outside. If it wasn't for my gifts, then I would have been driven insane by now.

A set of elongated green pistols with sparkling blades attached at the end of the barrel were resting on the bed. The pair were the result of nearly a month and a half of gruelling working and experimentation. I wasn't often proud, but my creations were the exception. I had made a beautiful – and functional – pair of pistols that could fold into a pair of short blades.

The "Stormflowers" were much more dangerous and lethal then I was initially comfortable with, but with the prevalence of murder and rape in Brockton Bay it was better than nothing. The machine pistols were unique in that their bullets didn't have casings to eject, and as such I didn't feel the need to include ejection ports. They could also fold into a carrying form that was small enough to hide in most common clothing.

I sighed as I hid the first of my many projects. My progress towards becoming a hero was slow going. I still didn't even have a costume idea yet. The alarm clock on my dresser beeped as it read six o'clock. Time for another run then. A quick look in my dresser revealed my favourite outfit. Black pants and my dark red sweater.

Dad was already in the shower when I made it to the kitchen and prepared a simple breakfast of toast. It felt like I wasn't making progress. So little has changed since gaining my powers a month and a half ago. My hair has slowly darkened, it was growing in black at the roots. It wasn't enough for me to really feel different. My three tormentors haven't even been punished for that stunt before Christmas break. "No evidence", like it always is.

"Morning" Dad said as he walked in. He went and grabbed a mug of coffee from the machine.

"Morning. I'm heading out for a run." I said as I cleared the plate I had used.

"Don't forget to bring your pepper spray." Dad called out.

"Got it!" Running was an escape mechanism when I first started out. Since I discovered my speed, I've only grown to love running more. Sadly, with the morning as bright as it was, and people out and about, I couldn't use my beloved speed.

The air had it's crisp chill that morning. I pulled my thick jacket on and left my neighbourhood. With my first pair of weapons done, it was time to consider my options. The Wards program had support for tinkers like me, and nearly all of the wards were in Arcadia High. There, not only would I gain the education I needed to make best use of my power but I would be free of my tormentors.

On the other hand, they had some pretty strict requirements and restrictions placed on tinkers. That kind of limitation would be extremely suffocating, especially to me. I manly focused on bladed weapons, which were, by definition, lethal. If I wasn't allowed to create lethal weapons I might actually go crazy. My experience with teenagers was slightly coloured, but I feared that I would only be going into another hellhole of drama.

The only other options were New Wave, which required that their members reveal their real identities. While in a family filled with capes it was a fine idea, well not a good idea, but better than it would be for me to reveal my "secret identity". Dad wasn't a cape and he didn't really have an important enough position to get constant protection if it got out that I was a cape.

I was turning back onto my street again as the solution hit me. As a vigilante I could still make whatever weapons I wanted, but didn't have to reveal my secret identity. Of course I wouldn't have the benefit of a PRT team and not close to enough resources to really build what I wanted, but those kind of restrictions would force me to get creative. Actually, it sounded kinda like a fun little challenge.

Ideas spun around in my head as I felt ideas click together for weapons that relied more on the dust that I grew rather then the raw metals I wouldn't have much access to. I had been faintly aware that I could weave dust into my clothing, but now my mind was overflowing with ideas. I could make a whole suit that was completely energy proof with enough time and dust. Or, Or even something like a cool laser battery! But, that would be far to big... Not if I put it just so with a collapsing frame, with rotating barrels it would have far less bulk too. Kinda like an old miniguns, like those in the World War Two films.

It wasn't until I actually entered the school again that I returned to reality. These 'tinker trances', for lack of a better word, had been extremely distracting at school. Before the locker incident, I had been doing fairly well. My homework was never handed in, but I did above average on tests, so it kinda balanced out. However, now I have a hard time focusing on reality instead of retreating into my tinker powers.

My head exploded in pain as I lost traction on the stairs and feel down the first couple of steps. I didn't need the haughty laughter of Sophia to reveal who had tripped me. I picked my self up and groped around for my glasses. Ah, there they were. I quickly grabbed them and made sure to wipe of any possible grime that could have gotten on them.

"Jesus Hebert, can't even walk up stair anymore?" Sophia's laughter was obnoxious and annoying, and apparently her little clique of friends found it hilarious that I fell down when shoved. Great, and I had such a great morning until now. I stood up and ignored them as I walked to my only enjoyable class.

Computer studies was a very easy class for me to do well it. Maybe it was because it was my escape from Sophia and her gang, or perhaps it was just my natural calling, but even before gaining my powers I was in the advanced class. Since then my heuristic algorithms have only gotten better. While I wasn't a prodigy or even incredible by professional standards, my tinker abilities gave a very cohesive structure to my programs.

As such, the program that was assigned was fairly easy. It was simple to write up a program that calculated the total number of possibilities that could occur in making a subset of numbers. With my work done and saved to the network drive for grading, I still had forty five minutes to burn until this class ended. With that in mind I went onto the Parahuman Online forums and began going through some of the tinker related threads.

The conversations about Kid Win was interesting, but it didn't really reveal anything about tinkers I didn't already know. Sadly a lot of conversations on the boards ended up providing no new information at all. I guess not a lot is really known about powers. However, one thing I do know is that it is rare for a tinker to have another power, not counting for power 'ratings' directly related to the tinker classification.

Which is what made me weird. I had a 'Mover' classification for my speed, but it wasn't related in any manner to my tinkering. Speaking of tinkering, that dust weaving idea for my clothe could be really good. I do know that dust reacts to the 'soul' which I also used with my speed. Hopefully that meant that what ever clothing I made would be able to resist the speeds I could move at.

Also, red dust tends to produce heat when activated. With some careful weaving I could make it so that my costume would keep me warm or cool depending on how I made it. Hell, I could use black cloth and load up on several colours of dust to keep me safe. Blue and yellow should insulate the cloth, and make it repel water. Green to allow for proper breathing, and if push comes to shove, I could use it as a gas mask.

Maybe I should do more work with adding dust to steel alloys. While the green dust I added to the Stormflowers made them ridiculously sharp, maybe I should work with reds? I think I remember hearing that heat makes cuts smother. A small percentage of green dust to red dust will still give me the green features, but could cut though everything that capes could throw at me a little bit better.

I really like red. It was one of my favourite colours. Maybe I shouldn't make my entire costume red? Nah, red is far to amazing not to go overboard with it. It needed something to play off of, but what? I was ripped from my thoughts by the bell going off, sounding the end of the class. I was the first one out of the class, taking an entirely new route to my second period class.

I got to my next class without trouble, only for my desk to have glue smeared across the chair. Great another stupid prank, not even trying to hide the bullying anymore. Why would they when the teacher just ignored it? At least this one was avoidable. I sat at the desk behind my usual one and began to read ahead in my text book. World History was actually a really interesting class, but my grades wouldn't led you to believe that. They were much worse than they should be because of Emma and her little clique of friends. Well, little if half of the student population could be considered small. Which, you know, might be accurate.

We were going through the shipping crisis that had ruined the entire local industry, starting with the arrival of Leviathan. Perhaps we were spending so much time because of the effects it had on Brockton Bay's economy. However, even with the content being so close to home, there's only so many ways to talk about Leviathan before it becomes stale. I mean, yeah he is a giant sea monster that is nigh on unstopable responsible for some of the most deaths in the last century, but almost everyone here already knew that.

What had me interested was the tech boom that came along with the tinkers, particularly the Toybox and the Protectorate grant for tinkers. Of course, it wasn't going to be covered today, but reading about it was a touch more interesting then listening to Mr Gladly pander to the popular kids and making them look better then they were. You know, it sounded kinda patronizing when I phrase it like that. Oh well.

I felt like grinding my teeth, I could have been producing more ammunition for my Stormflowers at home, but instead I was stuck here. The greens would have grown enough for me to use them for some experiments. Thus far, The purple dust was the best shot for 'brute' class concussive rounds, owing to their telekinetic effects. Moving down the spectrum, Red would obviously lend it self well to incendiary rounds, but I don't think that would be very safe to use. Especially if they were faulty.

Actually, considering the amount of energy that the dust crystals held, I could also just throw some dust gems as a contact grenade. It would be wasteful considering how long it takes for the material to grow from my blood. Maybe I should look into alternate ways to grow dust? The microscopic particles in my blood expanded when exposed to air, so maybe I could increase the rate that I harvest the material without bleeding myself dry.

Dust used the "soul" to power or activate itself, so that was a field of study to look into. Perhaps I could try to use my "soul" to induce growth. First, I would have to gain the ability to manipulate my "soul" without activating my speed and the dust itself. I fought a yawn as I looked at the clock. There was still ten minutes for this class. I ignored another class, great. Another weekend working ahead might make up for the lost work, but I couldn't bring myself to care about this stupid school anymore.

Maybe I could go visit the Boardwalk before heading off to work on some projects. Yeah that sounds nice. I could use some tea right about now. It's not like the English classes her actually taught me anything anymore. Math was beyond easy with my freshly gained powers, so not a huge loss their either. Yeah, I think I would sneak out to go get something to drink and skip my afternoon classes.

I liked this little rustic cafe. It had nice lighting, very softly reflecting off of the clean flooring. The tables were some form of hardwood that was a soft brown in colour. Maybe juniper wood? I have no idea, but that sounded right. Moving on, the benches on the booths I sat at were nice and comfy, almost enough to drift to sleep after a long night of tinkering.

The prices were very fair, for how good the tea was here. The taste of the sencha was soft and subtle, with a little bit of a tangy aftertaste. Very good, to say the least. With moist muffins, I will have to spend more time in this homey little cafe to work on homework or something. God, this was so good it might as well be criminal.

Not to imply that I was doing homework right now. I was kinda lucky that my powers made some of the homework trivial, as that left me with a little more time to myself. Right now I was doing some free hand drawing, superficially for art class. I avoiding any weapons or tinker stuff like that, just focusing on landscapes. It was nice to just lose myself to the transformation of soft curves into climbing steeps of beautiful mountain ranges over a cold tundra.

It was a nice view, but it was missing something. Ah! It needed a name! So what to name to picture of natural beauty? Something sincere and low key. Nothing majestic to ruin the simple beauty it held. I flipped the picture over and signed my name while thinking. "The Climb" didn't quite nail down it's meaning to me. I needed something solemn, remote, but not cold. Unreachable but not distant...

The Watcher.

I scrawled out my chosen title for the piece feeling a small bloom of pride as I flipped the page back to the drawing of the tall, solemn mountain top. It was nothing special, just a little picture, but it meant so much more to me. It was a part of me, giving shape and form. I always loved sketching, but this is likely the best I've done yet.

I reached for my mug of tea, leaning back into my very soft seat. The warm liquid was a beautiful, simple pleasure to my tongue. A sigh escaped me as I let my cramped hand loosen up, releasing the small tension there with pops and cracks. I think I was going to need some new pencils actually. That would be so much easier than trying to use the tiny little nubs I have right now.

A woman walked up to me. She was of average height, a bit taller than me. Her jacket was damp, so it was probably snowing again. Her bright reddish blond hair seemed to clash with her pale skin. Bright green eyes sparkled over her sunglasses as she bent down and picked up a very familiar sheet of paper. On it's face was an intricate design of a combat android in an action pose. Wires stretched out of the short haired robot's back, connecting it to several single edged daggers.

"I think you dropped this," Her voice was cheery, kinda what you got if you crossed a happy dog and preening child. "Did you draw this? It's really good!" She shrugged off her jacket, threw it on the far side of the booth and plopped down across from me. Her short hair went together well with her nice skirt and neat "BOOP!" T-shirt.

"Um, yeah thanks," My voice came out soft and hesitant, but I felt a small smile creep across my face. "I liked that one too."

"Liked it? Are you joking? This is so~ cool! She's all like, in charge and kicking ass! Do you do comics? You should totally do comics!" Her voice was fast, that was certain. She was holding my sketch at arms length and kinda bouncing in place, something I'm sure guys would love.

"Do you want to keep it?" Her energy was infectious. My hesitant smile had already bloomed into a full, cheek stretching smile. I forced a small ball of anxiety down before it could get to me.

"Really? Thank you so much!" Her smile grew even bigger, how was that even possible? "This is so cool! I was just coming for a late morning snack but I get to meet this super cool artist!"

"It's the afternoon?" I tried to hold back my amusement, I really hope it didn't show on my face.

"Like I said, late morning!" I couldn't hold back anymore and broke into stifled giggles. "I'm Sam, great to meet you."

"I'm Taylor, the pleasure's mine." I gently placed my sheets in order so that I wouldn't forget them. "So, how's your day going?" That was the right pleasantry right? I hope so...

"Amazing! I got this really neat picture from my new friend." Sam's voice was giddy and she jumped up, out of the bench suddenly. "Buuuut I need to go get something to eat! I'll be right back TayTay!" She skipped up to the counter and began to have an energetic discussion with the cashier. She was definitely something else, but in a kinda refreshing way? It made more sense than endearingly overwhelming in any case. Sam came bounding back a plate with a piece of cheese cake on it. It was then that I realized something terrifying.

She was a People Person.

"They make the best cheese cake ever here." Sam slid back down across from me and practically melted with the first bite. Not that she had been that up tight before, but the effect was more than noticeable in contrast. "So you some freelance artist or something."

"Ah no, it's just a hobby." Sam's head snapped up, her mouth in a small 'o' as her eye brows rose.

"Whaa? No way, you totally need to sell this, it's so nice!" Heat rushed up to be cheeks as I looked away. That cause Sam to giggle. "So what do you draw then? You did so good on this action thing. Why don't I see if one of my other buddies like this and you can sell others?"

I fought the growing heat in my face and focused on the other side of the window. "I'm not that good." My voice was soft and hesitant when it came out.

"You're awesome! Like, this is so nice. It must have taken years to get this good!" Sam continued to go on, while eating the very appetizing desert. "I could never do this, not in a million years!"

"It's, uh, not that hard," I had to fight hard against the rising surge of emotions to stutter out even my meagre response.

"Well, I can't draw like this. Funny really, I work at Dynamite and can't do anything this good." Sam was less energetic now, but I don't think it counts when you were that excitable to begin with.

"Um, is that the new comic company?"

"Well, technically we are supposed to call it a 'Graphic Novel Publishing House', but I wont tell if you don't," Sam had her had out beside her mouth like she was telling me these grand secrets of the universe. That set me off giggling again. It felt nice to laugh. "You know, we are hiring right now. I'll see if I can't get you hired."

"You, um, don't have to. Not that I don't appreciate it or anything, but you don't have to go out of your way for me." Just kill me now. Like right now. Any moment now...

"Nonsense! I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't give you a hand, now would I be?" Clearly Emma hadn't heard that memo yet. Ugh, less depressing self focus, more not looking like an idiot.

"I guess that makes- Hey wait, we just met."

"Yup" Sam popped her p. "So friend o'mine, can I grab your number. Need to give it to the boss so he can hire you."

"... Why?" I felt like garbage, but I had to ask. No one has ever gone out of their way for me and I have a feeling that this is no different.

"I guess I can understand why you don't trust me. I am practically a stranger at this point." Sam's smile didn't disappear, in so much that it just changed. It was much sadder now. Guilt clawed at me inside. "We really do need another artist right now, our old one was shot and died in the hospital. That doesn't mean that I don't want to be your friend, or that I didn't want to get you that job. I'm told that I can be impulsive at times, and well, you looked lonely." She wasn't lying, although I don't think she would have tried either. She felt too genuine to lie like that.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm not that great a friend." I felt like utter garbage. Here she comes, and while yes she benefited, she was honestly trying to help and I act like a paranoid bitch. Sam's face glowed as she beamed at me.

"I forgive you! That's what it means to be friends." She grabbed my hands and shoved a piece of paper within. "Here's my phone number, can I have yours?"

"I uh, kinda don't have a cellphone right now. Would my email be fine?" She nodded and took another bite of her cake while I scrawled my email address onto a napkin. Almost as soon as I lifted my pen, Sam yanked the paper and studied it closely.

"Okay, I got it. So, what do you wanna chat about? I have like five more minutes before I need to head to work." She shoved the paper into her jacket's pocket while I carefully folded the one with her cellphone number into my pocket.

"Um..." Come on, there has to be something interesting in my life. Something, anything really...

... Shit, I have nothing.

"Oh, you're shy! I'm so sorry for putting you on the spot. Oh please don't hate me. I don't want to lose another friend." Sam had my hand grasped in her own and looked upset.

"Ah, no, it's fine. Everything is just kinda sudden, you know?" I made some kind of calming motion with my hands that seemed to work, both of them splayed out and gently moving backwards and forwards.

"Great! We should totally hang out more then." She gave me a happy grin. "We could totally go see a movie or something."

"That could be fun." I tried to be optimistic, but I think my voice betrayed something.

"Oh, don't be so sad! Movies are fun, and you'll have popcorn and laugh a lot." Her phone gave a nifty little jingle. Sam frowned and pulled it out. "Ah, the boss wants me back five minutes ago. Sorry, I'll mail you soon."

"Bye, have a good evening." I guess I have a new friend? One that is completely overwhelming, but I think that still counts as +1 friend. Too bad that I am still hovering at like -33 friends right now. I finished my tea and left to head back home. Maybe I could work on a costume, it would be a fun exercise to work with cloth now.

It took another week, even with using my speed, but I finished my costume. It was a beautifully simple thing, a red cloak with a black and red skirt. I was wearing was the final piece of my set, a black long sleeve shirt that was fairly roomy. Each piece stitched together from some dust enhanced cloth that I produced near the beginning. Honestly it wasn't the best work, but it would keep me safe from a lot. Next time, I am going to make the cloth from scratch. Purchased cloth just didn't hold as much dust as individual threads could if I learnt to make the cloth itself. Plus it would be cheaper to make, probably, maybe.

Of course, my next big project was just begging me to finish it. Honestly, why didn't others ever think to make a scythe as a weapon? Well, besides the obvious investment of training it takes to learn to use. I guess that without my own thinker sub-power I wouldn't have been able to learn how to use the temporary scythe I built that quickly.

It wasn't really a power actually. The best way to explain it would be as an extension of my tinkering. I wasn't building weapons then gaining the ability to use them, instead I was building weapons that I already understood how to use. When I gained my tinker knowledge, basic weapon handling had been included in the "package" I gained. The thinker version would be learning how to use any weapon I held, according to PHO. In either case, it didn't impart me with the muscle memory to make full use of that knowledge, hence my training regiment.

The full scythe's blade was completed and I had it fitted onto a dummy scythe for now. While the dummy didn't have any of the collapsible components that the final product would have, it was properly weighted and shaped that it would act in a comparable manner to the final product. The true project was resting on the work bench. The entire mechanism was going to be one of the most complicated things I could dream of, unless you count huge things like planes or towers and stuff like that.

I sighed as I began to peel out another piece of the chamber mechanism from the Walmart clay mold. While the actual process of creating can be amazing, these small inconveniences made it terrible. Hell, I didn't even have a proper forge, instead relying on a red dust stove to burn impurities and melt down the various materials I salvaged from the graveyard.

Without an anvil, I couldn't hammer out the pieces. So I was left with making molds and forming each by casting them. The actual process of casting left a bitter taste in my mouth while I was working on the chamber. Sure, using dust augmentation meant that cast iron wasn't as brittle as it normally was, the end result still would have been better with hammered pieces.

This particular piece was going to be made of a blue-yellow-red alloy that would give it the resistance it needed to fire the calibre of bullets I was planning on using. The sniper component of the project was the annoying part. It hardly took me two weeks to build the frame for the weapon, but it would take another couple of weeks, if not months, before the scythe gained the ability to fire bullets.

The clock on the basement wall announced it to be an hour till midnight. A smile crept onto my face as I shed the remaining fragments of my civilian attire and changed into my costume. I didn't make a pair of leggins for this costume, mainly because I didn't have the knowledge or skill to make clothing that precisely. Instead I had a civilian pair purchased from the bargain bin.

I had been researching into the proper techniques, but that was not strictly necessary for my first patrol. My skirt was covering down to my knees and my combat boots had support all the way to the midsection of my calf. The only reason I really needed it was to preserve my modesty rather than to protect myself.

I left the small dilapidated house I had taken over for my new workshop. The basement had access to the abandoned sewers and let me discretely enter and leave the condemned building. The upper floors had collapsed onto the lower floors, making it impossible for anyone other than fliers or another kind of mover to enter. For my first patrol I was heading out towards the slums that the merchants gang had control over.

The merchants were a pathetic gang, but they still mugged people. In fact, I had heard rumours that there were rapes going on in the territory fairly frequently. That combined with the lack of threatening capes, like Lung or Kaiser, made for an easy night. Go out, stop a couple crimes and get my name out there. That way, when the Crescent was done I wouldn't be judged by my baby alone. She might look a little to scary for people if I used her right away.

I left the sewers from an open pipe under the boat graveyard. It took a couple minutes to get out of the maze of disregarded pipes that had never been used, a new tinker system that wasn't completely implemented. It wasn't as impressive or even noteworthy as the other areas where tinker tech and become common place, but these new sewers were supposed to be more durable, and more importantly, "secure" from Endbringers. Well, if the city had bothered to properly fund the project, then we would have known.

Just another case of good inventions being ruined by governments. I guess I shouldn't be complaining too much since it was working out in my favour. The boat graveyard was a dark maze of washed up boats and ruined dreams. Fitting, in a way, that I would be starting my own dream here. Being a hero wasn't going to be some grand sport like the normals tend to consider it, but a monumental task that will never be done.

Weapons check: Stormflowers, sixteen magazines of various types for each, two crystal "grenades" suspended in saline solution, first aid kit, flares, pepper spray and one sandwich. What? It's not like I would be sleeping anyway.

I called upon my "soul" to power a dash on top of the smokestack of an older steam vessel. I arrived with a crown of rose petals floating down from above my head. Certainly using my "soul" like this did consume some of my own energy, but even for these long dashes I almost never noticed the drain. Much like how a normal would consider lifting a pencil to be trivial.

Huh, when did I stop considering myself normal? Was it during the bullying, or only since I gained powers?

Another pillar in the distance, another dash, and I was gone. The wind from this height carried the petals away, cleansing my path of any evidence. I giggled as I jumped off the smoke stack, relishing in the blasting of wind past my body. Even with approaching the grounds at ridiculous speeds, I wasn't satisfied. Another dash, directly downwards this time, increase my speed even more.

My knee impacted the ground as my other leg spread out to keep my balance. The only tell that I had even done the stupidly dangerous stunt was the disappearance of a more significant portion of my "soul". That is, until the air I had displaced blasted directly on me. I was fine, protect by my "soul" again, but the ground became compressed as a small crater formed.

I have no idea why going fast made me feel so free, but the waves of sheer joy I felt was intoxicating. Again I had to stifle my giggle to prevent myself from breaking out into laughter. Another reason that running had become such a major part of my civilian lifestyle I guess. My smile was so big that it was beginning to hurt my cheeks. This must be how Sam feels. I should check my email again when I have time.

The ground was tough enough, so I began to run along the side walks of the gang infested slums of my city. The draining sensation happened again, as my body continued to accelerate beyond human limits. This way I was limiting the amount of petals I produced. Then again, I wasn't really the blur I normally was, or even faster than most motorcycles could naturally go.

Sadly, this wasn't another day I dedicated to just running. So instead of pouring more of my "soul" into my speed, I maintained what I've already achieved. My powers didn't actually tell me exactly how fast I was going, but if I had to guess, I would say at least seventy kilometres per hour. The pleasant feelings of my speed finally abated to more of a subtle happiness then a shot of morphine.

The moonless sky above hid me fairly well in it's shadows, but also served to hide the cancerous gangs from my sight. Oh well, it's not like anything important would happen in complete silence. I could afford to spend more time. It's not like my first night was guaranteed to be eventful.

A loud blast of music distracted me, coming from a suddenly active sedan. Inside their was two people, both male, in costumes that looked like a stereotypical gangsters. They each had a machine gun of some sort, but if I'm honest, I have no idea what popular consumer guns looked like beyond the basics.

The sedan was obviously souped up and they speed out of the drive way recklessly, but nothing reprehensible yet. Then I noticed the small humming bird camera. Ah, so this was Uber, or Ub3r, and Leet, or L33t. As far as parahuman criminals goes, these guys are as small as it gets. Half the time they actually pay back any damages with the profit of their web show anyway. Doesn't excuse their action, but with how fucked up some of the other villains get, they almost never get any serious attention.

Their whole gimmick was mimicking video game characters and having a semi illegal show with their powers. So lets see, tinkertech car, obvious gangster image, guns. I don't know many games, and the first that comes to mind is that controversial game from a while ago. Grand Theft Auto I think. They are totally going to do Grand Theft Auto. The amount of people who've been asking for this on the internet meant it would happen eventually.

So what to do? Keep following them for sure, but if I did something before they showed any intent to preform illegal actions I would be the "bad guy". As much as it pains me, if I come off as a villain, which is very easy with a mostly black and red costume, the chances of remaining independent lowers dramatically. The protectorate doesn't like having "loose cannons" like "me".

The vehicle came to stop up ahead, with one of the two coming out to talk with some scantly clad women. If I wasn't already suspicious, I might have missed what happened next. He hit one of the woman in the side with a crowbar. Where did he get the crowbar? The woman folded and he made a move to attack another of the prostitutes with his weapon.

Of course, I interrupted him. The rose storm that my powers create dissipated so very slowly, and Uber and Leet weren't doing anything, at all. I sighed as I hid my smile, suppressing the giddiness that I always felt. They hadn't moved at all since I had appeared, but I had a feeling that they had their guns trained on me. That what I would do anyway.

"Who the hell are you?" the man in the painfully colourful clothing shouted. Sounded like Leet, so the one in the darker clothing was Uber. It was an understandable reaction. My cloak had a voluminous hood and a section that went over my nose, hiding my identity fairly well. Of course, my costume made me look a lot younger than I really was, so maybe they were unnerved? I mean, younger capes tend to be overpowered. Proof? Vista, the absolute space warper, is still in middle school.

I couldn't help but use my prepared introduction, even if it was a little on the melodramatic side. A polite curtsy and a slight bow of my head, "Ruby Rose." Ah yes, my cape name was essentially red red. I really like red, shut up. The roses were pretty much clear by this time, so I could make out Uber's head sticking out of the side window of the vehicle, staring right at me.

"Get out of here kid, this ain't no place for children." On one hand, it's kinda frustrating to be treated that young, on the other, at least it shows that they wouldn't hurt children.

"You guys should really stop." Fuck, even my attempts at diplomacy sounds like I'm fourteen. Of course, it's not like I get a lot of social interaction anymore, the only one I really remember was Sam a week ago, but still! I should be more respectable. I shifted my weight back onto my heals, bouncing a little bit, as they didn't respond for a least fifteen second.

"Uh, No?" Leet said, lilting his head. "Did you come all the way here to reprimand us?"

"I think she did Leet." Really, they were making this into a joke.

"Kids these days, not even thinking before going out." They were essentially mocking me now.

"Back in my day, being a villain got you respect. Now even little girls think they can tell us what to do." This is ridiculous.

"I betcha she thinks she can stand up to Lung."

"Nah, she's not that stupid."

"She tried to stop us by asking nicely."

"Point taken"

"So what do we do now? We can't really kill her."

"Dude, we never murder people anyway."

"Okay, fair, but we can't really hurt her either."

"We could bribe her." Okay, they are just ignoring me now.

"Would that even work? I don't know if kids like money."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"Fine, hey girl – what the hell is that?" Oh, now they notice me. It only took me drawing my weapons from my pouches for them to even take me seriously. Let's see, I think I had concussive rounds in right now? Yup, the magazines had the little purple sun on the side.

"You really should have stopped." I said, my voice rather quiet.

"Leet, get in the car." Uber called out, getting back into the drivers seat. Leet broke into a run back to the sedan, but a triplet of gun shots caught him behind each knee and one in the centre of his back. It was almost funny to watch him comically crumple and roll on the ground. He managed to stop spinning and was shaking as he tried to stand up.

Of course, the back of the knee was particularly vulnerable. I wouldn't be surprise if I gave him a charlie horse with the little purple explosions. Uber rose his machine gun and let out a stream of gunfire on me. Even with it probably, hopefully, not being lethal ammo, I dodged. A light touch of speed gave my jump the strength it needed to pull myself into another alley.

This time, only four petals spawned in my path. Of course, the lack of speed in my jump allowed Uber to easily follow me with gun fire. As it was, I couldn't move past the corner without getting riddled with the bullets. Unless I cheated, which was totally the plan. It wasn't even a difficult jump to get to the top of the ruined house I was hiding behind.

Now that I had the height advantage, I could see that Uber had left the car and was going to give Leet a hand with walking, all the while keeping perfectly paced suppressive fire on the alley I just left. Leet's movement had a rather pitiful limp to it. He wasn't completely out of the fight yet, as he kept his gun trained on the alley way I had hidden behind. My Stormflowers were accurate, but they lack any form of sight to make aiming easier. The blades wouldn't do anything at this distance. Really wished I had the sniper scythe right now.

Another running jump took me to a building behind the duo. Thankfully, since I was only using the lightest touch of my speed, I didn't leave any petals behind. Thank God they were completely focused on the alley way. Otherwise they might have picked up my movement. Okay, so now I was behind them, with two pretty much full magazines of ammo in my guns.

This time, I shot eight shots. Four at the back of their knees again, another directly at their guns and the final set behind their heads. And I missed the second half of my shots. What a waster of bullets. They fell down again, before trying to roll over and take aim at me. A dash took me right on top of Uber.

Quite predictably, Leet held his gunfire. Uber tried to shove me off him, and I let him. Taking advantage of the momentum, I used my speed to draw a bead on his head and place a bullet between his eyes. The projectile collapsed when it hit him and release a circular blast of purple energy, rendering Uber unconscious.

A blast of pain arced across my back as I jumped back, landing on the second story balcony of a warehouse. My shoulder was numb, and with that I couldn't move my arm. The costume around my shoulder was glowing a cherry red as it tried to distribute the energy. Huh, I guess the dust compound was too thin to completely block blast of whatever that was. Wait, where was my gun?

Crap, my second Stormflower was on the ground beside Uber. Leet was holding a rifle formed of rounded pieces of metal that gave it a science fiction feel. The ends of the gun was crackling with visible arcs of electricity. He was on one knee and had a hand fiddling with a touch screen on the side of the gun.

I couldn't actually read the display, but it seemed that it displayed the power output or the charge remaining in the rifle. A shock crystal was fished out of my left pouch and tossed at Leet. It landed at his feet and bounced twice, before exploding in a storm of lighting. The energy stopped inches from Leet, disappearing rather than discharging.

So he had energy shields. I guess that different kinds of shields weren't so similar to each other for him to make more than one. While Uber was a thinker that could master any skill, he was still just human. Leet was a tinker that could make anything, but only make it once. Why didn't he have this energy shield activated earlier.

Ah, it was probably an electrical shielding unit, not a general shield. As such, my kinetic rounds didn't trigger the shield, where the blue crystal had. I hid behind the wall as Leet began to unload several conventional rounds into the building. So electrical energy would be prevented, but kinetic and likely thermal energy wasn't blocked. If Crescent Rose was ready, then this wouldn't be a problem. The Stormflowers didn't have the right calibre to effectively take Leet down from this range, not without wasting too many bullets to be economic.

The other crystal was blue as well, so no help there. Pepper spray and flare? Not much good. I could use my more dangerous rounds, but that didn't feel right. Leet had apparently gotten to his car and pulled some lever or something, because I could hear the car's engine cut off slowly. The bullets didn't stop, so I couldn't imagine was he was doing to the vehicle. The door on the other end of the room lead to the roof, and if I dashed I could probably make it, but it would tip my actual power set to the whole world.

I dropped the brute concussion magazine out and loaded my only flash magazine in. The yellow sun image disappeared as the magazine entered the Stormflowers. Breathe in, Breathe out. Two single shots, each carefully aimed, at the edge of the door frame. The blast shouldn't effect me, as I had my eyes closed, but it would throw off the aim of Leet. Hopefully.

I threw a large sum of my "soul" into my speed as I dashed to the roof across the alley. This petal storm was rather large, but I made it to the other side of the alley. This time I flattened myself on the slate as I kept the remaining gun facing forwards. \

What? Where did they go?

On the ground where the duo had been, some sort of gun on a tripod had been left behind. The pavement had no skid marks to show where the vehicle had gone. Drat. If I had a phone, I could either call this in to the PRT or check the pair's stream to see where they went. Without one, I was stuck without a plan.

I jumped down to the ground and moved to check up on the women the pair had attacked. The others had dispersed, with obvious reason, but the remaining hooker was still crumpled on the ground. Her pulse was still strong when I checked, and her face didn't look broken, so she was probably okay. I tried to wake her, but even a strong rousing didn't do anything.

Nothing for it then. My body complained for her weight as I slung her into a fireman's carry and began running, with my full speed towards the nearest hospital. I just hope she had insurance to pay for her medical care. It would suck if she was in debt already only to be plunged further because of two selfish, careless idiots.