Electra

Erin sat back in her chair and regarded Mark with some surprise. He was probably the last person she'd ever have thought to hear talking that way. He was third generation hero after all, and always the most gung-ho of anyone about following hero protocols and being around for photo ops and the other trappings of organized hero work. She would've thought he'd go straight for a spot on the main League, and he had a good chance of getting it, too. "What are you thinking about doing?" she asked.

"Bad things happen to people," Wander said flatly. "That's never going to change. Your 'bad hand' is always relative to someone else's bad hand. In Freedom City, we've got a working government, clean water, decent air, schools, hospitals, shelters and an entire city full of superheroes who make it their life's work to help people. Where's the bad hand there, compared to, say, Somalia? Or the Terminus? Why shouldn't we expect everyone privileged enough to live in Freedom City Prime to at least try and do the right thing?" She paused for a moment to look down at the street, keeping an eye on a small group of mingling people till she decided it was harmless. "I'm not saying that no one ever commits a crime from desperation. I'm saying nobody in this town has no choice but to become a gangbanger or a career criminal."

Cyberknife Power Level: 12 (215/215PP, Sidekick Rank 43) Trade-Offs: -5 Attack / +5 Damage, -2 Defense / +2 Toughness Unspent Power Points: 0 Alternate Identities: Cyberknife (online hero name) Identity: Double-Double Secret Birthplace: Blackwater, Missouri Occupation: Computer Programmer Affiliations: None Family: Two living parents, divorced, two older brothers. Estranged. Age: 25 (DoB: May 1, 1988) Apparent Age: Early 20s Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5'6" Weight: 190 lbs. Eyes: Brown Hair: Dishwater Blonde Description: Gina doesn't get out much, or exercise much, and she looks it. Pale and flabby, she tends to squint when exposed to sunlight, and has a perpetual dusting of acne around the forehead and mouth. She wears jeans and t-shirts or sweatsuits depending on the weather, and generally has little burns under her hands and grease under her fingernails when she's been working. Power Descriptions: Gina's powers are of the mutation descriptor, thanks to her super-intelligent enhanced brain. Personality & Motivation: Sardonic and quick to annoyance, Gina's prickly shell hides an inner self who is desperate for affirmation and connection. She's done a 180-degree turn from her people-pleasing childhood and now doesn't please anyone, least of all herself. Despite all that, when turned to her task, her concentration is relentless, and she has a strong sense of right and wrong that motivates her to use her powers for good in a society she is barely a part of. She uses the Miss Americana persona as both tool and wish-fulfillment device. Her desire to do good is sincere, but it is matched by the desire to be seen and admired. Powers & Tactics: Gina does all her in-person hero work through the robot she built for that purpose, and is more than happy to sit back and pull the strings, even if it means the occasional vicious headache when her avatar takes a pummeling. Her own powers manifest themselves as an electric blue aura, around her body when she uses her forcefield, and around just her hands when she uses her cyberkinetic abilities. Complications: Can't Pick Your Family: Despite her best efforts, Gina has not been able to cut all ties with her family. This usually causes her nothing but headaches, since it usually involves money. They know she has some, and they, especially Lissy, think they deserve a little of it. Date My Avatar:Gina can and will succumb to the temptation to socialize while in her avatar without ever letting on that this is not actually her face and body. She prefers it that way. This is sure to cause problems eventually if she starts making any friends. Homebody: Gina does not like to leave her home for any reason. Going out anywhere makes her very uncomfortable, going anywhere to be with people she knows or has to meet is doubly so. Abilities: (-2) + 0 + 4 + 14 + 10 (-2) = 24PP Str 08 (-1) Dex 10 (+0) Con 14 (+2) Int 40/24 (+15/+7) Wis 20 (+5) Cha 8 (-1) Combat: 6 + 8 = 14PP Initiative: +15/+7 Attack: +3 Grapple: +2 Defense: +8 (+4 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed Knockback: -6/-0 Saving Throws: 2 + 2 + 5 = 9PP Toughness: +13/+2 (+2 Con, +11 Force Field) Fortitude: +4 (+2 Con, +2) Reflex: +2 (+0 Dex, +2) Will: +10 (+5 Wis, +5) Skills: 188R = 47PP Bluff 6 (+5)SM Computers 15 (+30/+22)SM Concentration 15 (+20) Craft (Electronic) 15 (+30/+22)SM Craft (Mechanical) 15 (+30/+22)SM Diplomacy 6 (+5)SM Disable Device 10 (+25/+17)SM Investigate 10 (+25/+17)SM Knowledge (Life Sciences) 10 (+25/+17)SM Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 15 (+30/+22)SM Knowledge (Technology) 15 (+30/+22)SM Medicine 15 (+20)SM Notice 15 (+20) Pilot 6 (+6) Search 5 (+20/+12)SM Sense Motive 15 (+20) Feats: 19PP Beginners Luck Benefit 3 (Security Clearance [Archetech], Wealth 2) Dodge Focus 4 Eidetic Memory Inventor Master Plan Online Research Second Chance (Concentration Checks to maintain powers) Skill Mastery 3 (Bluff, Computers, Craft [Electronic, Mechanical], Diplomacy, Disable Device, Investigate, Knowledge [Life Sciences, Physical Sciences, Technology], Medicine, Search) Speed of Thought Ultimate Save (Will) Well Informed Powers: 12 + 59 + 7 + 16 + 11 + 3 + 1 = 108PP Comprehend 6 (codes, electronics, languages 3 [read, speak, and understand all languages]) [12PP] Cyberkinesis-Technopathy 21 (52PP powers; PFs: Dynamic, Dynamic Alternate Powers 3) [59PP] DBE: Machine Animation 17 (255PP; Extras: Heroic, Range [Perception], Sensory Link, Simultaneous, Flaws: Duration [Concentration], Feedback, Limited [Electronics], PF: Subtle) {51/52} DAP: Move Object 18 (Str 90; Extra: Range [Perception]; Flaw: Machines Only; PF: Precise) {37/52} DAP: ESP 8 (2000 miles, all senses; Extra: No Conduit; Flaw: Medium [machines]; PFs: Rapid 6 [x1,000,000], Subtle) {39} and Machine Animation 1 (5PP; Extra: Range [Perception]) {3} and Super-Senses 3 (Darkvision, Danger Sense [mental]) {3} {39+3+3=45/52} DAP: Transform 12 (any computer program into any computer program, 3/rank) (Extras: Duration [Continuous], Range [Perception], Flaws: Action [Full], Distracting, PF: Precise) {37/52} Datalink 10 (Radio, 200,000 miles ["Earth To The Moon"], Flaws: Feedback, PFs: Cyberspace, Subtle) [7PP] Enhanced Intelligence 16 (to INT 40/+15) [16PP] Force Field 11 [11PP] Quickness 6 (x100; Flaws: Limited [Mental Tasks]) [3PP] Super-Senses 1 (Communication Link [Radio, Robot]) [1PP] DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC14 Toughness Damage Abilities (24) + Combat (14) + Saving Throws (9) + Skills (47) + Feats (19) + Powers (108) - Drawbacks (0) = 221/225 Power Points

Power Level: 15 [12 combat w/o Gadgets, 15 skills/w/Gadgets] (241/250PP) [279] Trade-Offs: +0 Attack/+0 Damage, -0 Defense / +0 Toughness Unspent PP: 9 In Brief: A reclusive cyberkinetic who built herself a superpowered robot body for IRL heroic shenanigans. Alternate Identities: Robot Identity: Secret Birthplace: Freedom City Occupation: Superhero/Paperweight Affiliations: None Family: N/A Age: 3 years (Final version created June 2010) Apparent Age: Early 20s Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5'10" Weight: 180 lbs. Eyes: Blue Hair: Blonde, Long, Slightly Curly Description: Miss Americana is a beautiful and sparkling young woman who draws people in with both her looks and her confidence. Perfectly proportioned and with supermodel skin, hair and teeth to match, she looks a little bit like she stepped out of a comic book by one of the better artists. Curly blonde hair falls to the shoulders and over the red cape of her red, white and blue uniform, with a tiny circlet to keep it out of her face and accent her forehead. Fearless and nigh-invulnerable, she is a shining beacon in the heroic firmament. Power Descriptions: All of Miss Americana's powers are of the Technological descriptor, being as how she is a robot and all. Her scanner looks somewhat similar to a Star Trek: Next Generation medical tricorder. She's a nerd, sue her. History: Gina Evans was born the third of three children, and the only girl, to a lower middle class family in Blackwater, Missouri. Her father, Charlie, was a night shift supervisor at the paper products plant, while her mother Alice, called Lissy, stayed home to take care of the kids. To Lissy, her little Regina was her personal reward after birthing two boy children. At last she had her own little baby doll to play with and dress up and do all the things she wished she'd done herself. And Gina was undeniably a good looking baby, with her wispy blond curls and long fingers. At six months of age, Gina was entered into her first beauty pageant, the Missouri State "Show Me Smiles" competition, and inadvertently sealed her own fate when she gave the judges a huge gummy smile at just the right moment. She won Grand Supreme in the baby division, and Lissy saw a future that was studded with crowns and glory. Childhood got pretty weird from that point on, not that Gina had known anything different. While her brothers Pete and Charlie Jr. watched TV or played in the yard, from the time she was two years old, Gina spent at least thirty hours a week with her mother, getting her hair styled, practicing pageant walks, being fitted for costumes, and endlessly, endlessly smiling. She liked the attention from her mother, who left the boys to their own devices while she molded her daughter, and the pretty clothes, and seeing her little pageant friends on weekends. She also liked winning beautiful crowns and white sashes, and for awhile, she did pretty well at that. In the baby and toddler divisions, a lot of the winning was determined by who had hair, who got teeth in the right order, and most especially by how much money the parents were willing to spend on clothes. Lissy was of the firm opinion that money was no object when it came to winning. Charlie, a responsible if somewhat uncreative man, had set up college savings accounts for all three of the kids so they'd have a chance to get ahead in the world one day. Lissy thought nothing of continually spending whatever went into Gina's, on the rationale that once she was a champion, scholarships would be easy to come by, if she didn't go straight into modeling or acting, of course. Gina's frilly pink and white bedroom got a shelf full of little crowns and trophies, and her closet was stuffed full of thousand dollar dresses. As she got older, competition became more intense for Gina. Her baby teeth didn't come in as straight and white as they could have, so she got a "flipper" to cover them with the illusion of big white perfect teeth. She spray-tanned and got her eyebrows waxed every other week, holding tightly to her stuffed rabbit so she wouldn't cry and make it hurt more, and had extensions to fill out her less-than-lush dyed and permed blonde hair. By the time she was six or seven, Gina wasn't sure she wanted to do any of this anymore, but she knew her mama would be sick with sadness if she found that out, so she soldiered on anyway. When she got the chance, especially at school, she would sneak away from what she was supposed to be doing and play with the computers, which were wonderful and interesting. She taught herself about computers with the help of the internet, and got pretty good with them for someone from her age and background. Her pageant performance started suffering due to her ambivalence and growing distraction, though, and she stopped placing outside her age group nearly as often as she used to. When Gina only won her division, it usually made her mama so mad that she cried, and then wouldn't say anything for the whole way home. When they'd driven ten hours to a pageant, that was a long time. Gina brought books along to fill the silences, and eventually she started to enjoy that part of the trip the most of all. Gina hit puberty early, and it wasn't kind to her. Her adult teeth were as crooked as the baby teeth had been, and her features lacked the pleasing symmetry the judges looked for in the vital and ineffable "facial beauty" category. She didn't get much in the way of a figure, and her skin turned oily while her hair got dry from nearly a decade of being abused by chemicals. The other pageant girls had formed their cliques while she was busy reading, and at eleven she was an ugly duckling outsider without a hope of placing outside her division. She dreaded going to pageants anymore, but Lissy declared that this was just a phase that they would work through, and as soon as they got the acne cleared up and the braces came off, the winning would start again. She began looking into doctors who would do some facial work on adolescent girls, but for once Charlie put his foot down. Up to this point he'd been content to let his wife mold their little girl, but plastic surgery was a bridge too far. Gina was immensely relieved, even as a small part of her still hungered to be beautiful and bright like the other girls. At school all the kids thought she was weird because of the pageant stuff and how she would sometimes come to birthday parties in dresses and with her hair and face teased half to death because her mother had told her to. There were kids like her at school, kids who liked reading and computers and stuff, but they didn't think she was like them, and she couldn't seem to find a way to reach them. She was very lonely, but at least she could talk to people on the computer who didn't know who she was or what she looked like. She made friend there. By the time Gina reached high school, the pageant world was cutthroat and she was just not cutting it. No matter how many hours she practiced with her mom breathing down her neck, she wasn't coordinated enough to do the dancing and gymnastics routines, and she was too tone deaf to sing or play an instrument. She put on the fake teeth and the five pounds of makeup, did her pageant walk and smiled, smiled, smiled, but it just wasn't enough. The endless special diets to keep her weight down and manage her acne just added insult to injury, and between pageants and coaching, there wasn't enough time for homework, let alone trying to make any friends. Finally Gina had had enough and told her mother she was quitting pageants, only to have Lissy calmly drop the bombshell on her that she'd better not drop pageants if she wanted to have any hope of going to college, because there was no money for her to go anymore. Pageants were her future, and without them, there was no future. Gina was smart, but her dad made just enough money to squeeze her out of financial need scholarships, and there would be no good college without money to send her. Wretched, Gina retreated to her computer, pouring out her woes onto her Livejournal. Hardly anybody actually read her journal, since the site wasn't exactly popular anymore, but in a way she felt it was like screaming at the sky. Even if no one listened, there was something cathartic about putting the words out there, fingers flying across the keys as tears of anger and despair rolled down her face. She was surprised when her instant messenger chimed a message to her, and even more surprised when it was from someone she didn't recognize, but whose IM hadn't triggered a "Do you want to take this message?" window. As far as she knew, she hadn't ever talked to anyone named Gene_Elliot2U before. I read your sad story, the message read. Don't you ever get to do what you want? Okay, that was really weird, Gina thought, but was interested enough to respond anyway. The worst she could get was trolled. Not really, she typed back. My mom has always decided everything for me. I've got nothing that's my own. What do you want? her mysterious conversational partner asked. Cake? Gina typed back, adding a silly smiley face. I hear it's delicious. No, really, the text box insisted. If you could have anything, be anything, what would you want? Gina was taken aback by the question. "Gorgeous, duh," she muttered aloud, then shook her head just as quickly. Maybe if she could be beautiful it would make her win pageants, and make her mom happy, and get her a scholarship, but none of that would be hers, it would just be more of what other people wanted. I want to be good with computers and machines, she typed instead, catching her lower lip between her teeth as she worked. So good that I can do anything I want with them, and get any job I want with them. An interesting choice. Very well. Have fun! Suddenly, Gene_Elliot2U signed off, and an instant later, the chat window closed, and the name disappeared from Gina's instant messenger list. For all intents and purposes, the conversation might not have happened at all, according to her computer. "Hey!" Gina protested, leaning forward and grabbing for the mouse. "What the hell?" She focused intently on the computer, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, and suddenly she was inside the computer. It was an intensely disorienting experience that lasted only a few seconds, but it was the beginning of everything. Learning to use her new powers wasn't easy, but it was the most wonderful, most exciting, most fun thing Gina had ever done in her life. Finally she was special, finally she was really good at something she loved. That gave her the courage to tell Lissy where she could put her stupid pageants and the wherewithal to deal with the rage and tears and eventual estrangement that followed. Gina had never been close to the rest of her family, and she was happy to obey Lissy's edict and move out on her eighteenth birthday, since "she obviously didn't want to be part of this family anymore." Things were hard at first, and she had to take a crappy tech support job to pay the bills, but within a few months she'd come up with her first technology patent, a sweet little program that synchronized a half dozen distribution and bookkeeping programs and that sold like wildfire in the warehousing and trucking markets. With the money, and the money from several other patents she came out with after that, Gina moved to the suburbs of Freedom City and bought herself a house that was bigger than the one she grew up in. She sent Lissy pictures, but no address. When she wasn't working on ways to put her powers to good use inventing things, Gina put on her metaphorical white hat and went to save the world on the internet. There were bad people out there, and it was kind of fun to go out and slay malicious code and cage up malware before it could hurt innocent civilians. Now that she was making enough money to have her groceries delivered, her lawn mowed, and her upstairs dusted, there was nothing that kept Gina from burrowing into her basement lab and spending as much time online as she wanted. So she did. No one on the outside missed her. It actually took her a surprisingly long time to realize that fact, but when she did, it made her lonely. She didn't want to live and die in this basement, no matter what sort of valuable things she did down there. At the same time, she knew she was flabby and oily and gross and unsociable, and she didn't want to go outside, either. If she went outside, she wouldn't be admired or applauded or judged worthy. She'd still be an outsider, incapable of doing the brave deeds she did online, helpless as anyone else and perhaps more so than most. She didn't want to be that person. Then she realized she didn't have to be. It took months to gather the materials and craft all the parts, but at long last, Gina had her first robot. It was crude, boxy and inhuman, but it was proof of concept. Wearing the robot like a videogame character while her hateful human body lay motionless in the basement, Gina rocketed into the sky and performed aerial acrobatics, then returned to earth long enough to stop a purse-snatcher. It worked! Over the next year, she performed many tests and alterations, tweaking and planning, till finally she was ready. Miss Americana (similar to yet legally distinct from, of course), was ready to meet the world! Personality & Motivation: Miss Americana is pleasant and helpful to everyone she meets, except for villains, who she treats with all the outrage that they deserve! The world needs protecting, and she's just the hero to do it! Beyond that, Miss Americana is a mysterious creature, who seems to desire nothing beyond truth, justice, and the American way. Powers & Tactics: Miss Americana is strong and acrobatic, capable of leaping tall buildings in a single bound, or even flying a little when the situation calls for it. Bullets do not faze her, nor do many poisons or mental attacks that might stun other heroes. Villains cower in fear of the red, white and blue power beams that shoot from her hands to quell their evil schemes. Complications: Barbie Doll: With her costume on, Miss Americana looks amazingly human and can easily pass. With her costume off, however, she is Barbie-doll smooth, with none of the parts that would be expected on an actual working woman. This is bad for her cover, and precludes much of a social life. Kill Switch: If Gina is ejected from control of the robot and someone attempts to open the robot and get it working again or reprogram it, it is programmed to immediately wipe its programming banks and melt down its servo control switches. Miss Americana will be useless until brought into the lab for repairs. Abilities: 10 + 4 + (-10) + (-10) + (-10) + (-10) = -26PP Strength 34/20 (+12/+5) Dexterity 14 (+2) Constitution --- Intelligence ---, 40/24 (+15/+7) when piloted by Gina Wisdom ---, 20 (+5) when piloted by Gina Charisma ---, 30 (+10) when piloted by Gina Combat: 12 + 16 = 28PP Initiative: +6 Attack: +6, +12 Blast/Unarmed Grapple: +22/+11 Defense: +12 (+8 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +4 Flat-Footed Knockback: -15 Saving Throws: 0 + 8 + 0 = 8PP Toughness: +12 (+0 Con, +12 Protection) (Impervious 12) Fortitude: --- Reflex: +10 (+2 Dex, +8) Will: --- Skills: 16R = 4PP Acrobatics 16 (+18) Bluff --- (---); 20 (+30) when piloted by Gina Diplomacy 16 (---); 20 (+30) when piloted by Gina Feats: 61PP Attack Specialization (Unarmed) 2 Dodge Focus 4 Equipment 5 Luck 3 Improved Initiative Interpose Sidekick 45 (Gina, 225PP) Equipment: Headquarterses! 25 EP House Spoiler Size: Medium; Toughness: 10; Features: Computer, Concealed 2 (+15), Living Space, Personnel, Power System, Power, Security System. Workshop Cost: 11 equipment points. Lab Size: Medium; Toughness: 15; Features: Laboratory, Library, Personnel, Power System, Security System, Workshop. Cost: 9 equipment points. 5ep to The Lab Powers: 3 + 33 + 22 + 8 + 4 + 2 + 28 + 1 + 24 + 10 + 30 + 4 = 169PP Device 1 (Scanner, 5PP, Easy to Lose) [3 pp] Spoiler Super-Senses 5 (Analytical for All Vision {2}, Analytical and Ranged for Tactile {2}, Detect Weakness [visual] {1}) Energy Systems 15 (30 points; PF: Alternate Power 3) [33PP] BE: Blast 12 (laser fingers; PFs: Accurate 2, Improved Crit, Precise, Variable Descriptor 2[any electromagnetic]) {30/30} AP: Damage 12 (laser storm; Extras Selective, Targeted Area [Cone], Flaw: Action [Full], PFs: Accurate 2, Improved Crit, Precise, Variable Descriptor 2 [any electromagnetic]) {30/30} AP: Enhanced Strength 14 (to 34/+12) [14PP], and Flight 4 (total rank 5; 250MPH, 2,500ft per Move Action) [8PP], and Super-Strength 4 (effective Str 54; Heavy Load: 11.5 tons) [4PP] {14+8+8=30/30} AP: ESP 7 (200 miles, all senses; Flaw: Medium [machines]; PFs: Rapid 6 (1,000,000), Subtle) {28/30} Enhanced Charisma 22 (Extras: Affects Others, Flaws: Limited [Others]) [22PP] Enhanced Skills 32 (Bluff 16, Diplomacy 16, Extras: Affects Others, Flaws: Limited [Others]) [8PP] Features 4 (Alarm 2 [DC25], Eidetic Memory, Kill Switch) [4PP] (Alerts Gina when robot makes any unauthorized movement, either from moving or being moved. Built-in audio/visual recording equipment, Remote Deactivation) Flight 1 (10MPH, 100ft per Move Action) [2PP] Gadgets 4 (Assorted Devices; 20PP Variable Power, Any Power, Multiple Powers At Once; Extras: Duration [Continuous]; Flaws: Hard-To-Lose) [28PP] Illusion 1 (biometrics field/Technology; All Senses; Flaws: Limited: "I'm a real boy!" 2; Drawbacks: Limited: Does not effect normal un-enhanced vision) [1pp] Immunity 30 (Fortitude Effects) [30PP] Immunity 10 (Mental [Psionic] Effects, Extras: Affects Others, Flaws: Limited [Others]) [10PP] Protection 12 (Extras: Impervious [12]) [24PP] Super-Senses 4 (Communication Link [Radio, Gina], Radar [Accurate Radio sense]) [4PP] Drawback: -3PP Vulnerable (magnetic effects; Uncommon, Major [x2]) [-3PP] DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Melee DC 27/20 Toughness Damage Lasers Ranged DC 33/DC27 Toughness Damage Abilities (-26) + Combat (28) + Saving Throws (8) + Skills (4) + Feats (61) + Powers (169) - Drawbacks (-3) = 241/250 Power Points Spoiler Default Allocation {12+8=18/20} Enhanced Blast 6 (to Blast 18) {12/12} Force Field 6 (Extra: Impervious 2 [to 14] {8}

"If someone shoots you with a gun, does it matter to your body how old that person was?" Wander asked Momentum as they leapt together through the air. "You're just as hurt or as dead. People who are young have to make hard choices all the time, right?" She shrugged, not missing a beat. "I'm not old enough to vote either, does that mean that my choice to put my life on the line and be a hero isn't as valid or doesn't do as much as it would if I were older? Make the punishment fit the crime, sure, but I have a hard time feeling sorry for someone who lives in Freedom City, of all places, and decides they aren't going to do any better than being a thug. There's no excuse for that, no matter how old they are."

Erin smirked, recognizing the film reference, and hit the button, then let out a surprised yelp and clutched the wheel as the truck suddenly seemed to enter warp space. The lights along the freeway were smears outside the window as they blasted through the night with a roar that came straight from the Indy 500. Erin braked the truck as quickly as she dared, then actually pulled off the road to wait for her heart, which seemed to have been left a half mile or so behind, to catch up with her body. "Holy crap," she gasped, half-laughing. "I think that's a little faster than I can drive. But maybe it'll come in handy sometime."

"Still not painting it black," she affirmed. They rode in comfortable silence for awhile, letting the music play. That was one thing she definitely liked about being with Trevor, it was okay to be quiet. She didn't have to fish for words or make awkward conversations to fill the silences between things to say. Right now, the kiss they'd just shared was occupying the forefront of her mind, but she was pretty sure she didn't want to talk about it. Repeat it, probably, but not dissect it. And maybe she was a little uneasy about where things could go from here, but she wasn't going to let that spoil things tonight. "All right," she finally said, when they were out of the city and facing a clear patch of road. "How does this look? Can I open it up?"

"It is sad," Stesha agreed, looking over the barren landscape. "I honestly have no idea what happened, but whether there was some kind of disaster or people did it to themselves, it's tremendously sad that there were once people here and now they're gone. But I feel that at least I can bring life back here, can make it beautiful again. The whole planet was like that when I first arrived, but it still called to me, as though it were crying for help." She shrugged at the fanciful notion, smiling a little. "And I'm an excellent botanist," she told him, "but an indifferent animal biologist at best. And what I really need is not only someone with the knowledge to help me revitalize the biome, but someone with the contacts, too. I can't just go out zoo raiding," she laughed. "Someone would probably notice."

"I built some signs in other languages," Stesha told him, gesturing to the row of signs right next to the one he was reading, "but I couldn't think of pictures to explain any of that, I think. And don't worry about it," she assured him breezily, "I've never even had anyone in here for more than an hour so far, I think it's pretty unlikely that I'll need sleeping bags for a long time. And if anyone's that badly hurt, I can usually heal them up myself. This is more a someday wishlist than a list of things I need right now. Here, I'll show you something else." Taking his hand, she teleported them both to the edge of a cliff that overlooked a large valley. "This is the edge," she told him, "I haven't managed to get outside this valley so far in terms of complete eco-rebuilding, a couple hundred square miles. When we captured the Beekeeper last time, I got his confiscated colonies, little ones and big ones, and they're settling in very nicely. I need to find a biologist to help balance the rest of the ecosystem. But isn't it beautiful?" Stesha was very proud of the green lushness of the valley, now just starting to turn to gold and amber with the advent of fall. It looked like some kind of sylvan paradise, and the idea that it was both planned and mostly free of animals was a little strange. She turned and looked behind them then, where the other side of the cliff dropped away into the rest of the world. It was easy to see what she meant about this world being a fixer-upper. Though the sun shone and the water flowed, only the occasional tree or shrub grew, and those were sickly and stunted. More startlingly, perhaps, were the piles of old, old refuse and the occasional standing wall that stated that not only had this planet once been nicer, it had once been inhabited by people besides Stesha and the odd friend or refugee.

Erin looked over at him and quirked an eyebrow, noting his sudden bobble. She rolled the girlfriend-boyfriend idea over in her head a few times, and decided it wasn't too scary to run with for awhile. It was probably unwise, and possibly sinful, to kiss like that with someone who wasn't your boyfriend. "I had every confidence in you," she replied drolly. "Not even my boyfriend gets to blow up my truck without at least asking first. I like this truck." She pulled out into traffic and headed for the edge of town where the interstate opened up.

"There's a lot of writers and artists in your family," Erin commented. "Maybe you can do that someday if you decide to retire. You'll have all kinds of weird stories to tell. Probably have to sell them as fiction," she concluded with a half-smile. "But you could tell the stories, your mom could illustrate them, it'd be kind of cool. Maybe for kids or something like that." She looked around the empty waiting room again, listened to the quiet buzz of static on her beacon. Hospitals were eerie in the small hours of the night.

"I'll go first," Erin volunteered. "Mark, can you make up some kind of flashlight or lantern? Trevor can see down there, but we all need to." Ignoring the darkness and the smell, Erin dropped down into the tunnel, hunching over so she didn't bang her head on the top wall of the pipe. In the darkness, she closed her eyes and concentrated on listening for the slightest noise that might signal they weren't alone. "I think it's safe for now," she called up to the others. "Jump down and I'll catch you."

"It sounds nice," Erin replied simply. "She sounds like a really interesting person. I'm glad she's going to get better." With that, she pretty much exhausted her store of conversation, so she fell silent. Mark could always be relied upon to fill the silences, it was simply a matter of with what. She really didn't understand the way his mind worked sometimes, but if her being here, for all her social inadequacy, helped him somehow, she was glad of it.

"Good for her," Erin said with a nod. "You have to use what you've got when you're life's at stake." She certainly wasn't about to begrudge anyone the use of a lethal weapon when it was obviously necessary. "It sounds like she was pretty brave, and smart. What did your grandpa think about his wife coming to rescue him, and all the other League members? I bet it was something to see." She smiled a little thinking about how weird that reunion must have been.

Erin cracked a smile at that. "He makes coffee a whole lot better than this," she agreed. Like Mark, she'd heavily doctored her coffee before drinking it, so that it was sweet sludge the color of almonds instead of bitter sludge the color of tar. "And you know you only have to call. You'd do the same for me or any of us. Tell me about your grandma," she suggested. It would pass the time, and she suspected that there really were some odd stories lurking in the wings.

"But if they choose the gangs, that's a choice they make," Wander pointed out. "Hopefully after they get busted, they'll make better ones." She was aware she probably sounded heartless, but it was tough to feel sympathy for people who chose crime when there were other options available. There were certainly worse hands to be dealt in life. "What do you look for specifically in this area?" she asked. "Specific colors, specific hangouts or hot spots? Are there any supervillains headquartered around here?" she asked Gabriel.

"McNider's one of the best hospitals in the country," Erin agreed with a nod. "And it's been around a long time. I'm sure they're taking really good care of your grandma. And it's really clean, too," she added, seemingly apropos of nothing. "I'm going to get a cup of coffee, do you want one?" The carafe of coffee in the corner looked like it had been there for awhile, but the warmer light was on, and it was something to do with her hands.

"Good." Erin closed her eyes and sighed for just a moment at the caress, then refocused and headed for the driver's seat of the shiny blue truck. "And none of that at two hundred miles an hour," she reminded him. "I haven't got your driving reflexes." Cheeks still flushed, still grinning, she buckled in and started up the truck, which made a satisfyingly throaty engine noise. "Find us some music," she told him as she headed for the driveway. "And tell me if I'm about to push anything that's going to make us blow up."

"That's probably good," Erin guessed, "she could use the sleep. Some people have a hard time sleeping in hospitals. You know," she suggested, "maybe we could turn one of our beacons to broadcast mode only, and tune the other one in to it, then leave it in here. Sort of like, you know, a baby monitor, so if she wakes up, you'll hear it. Then we can sit out here and not disturb her?" The waiting room was deserted at this hour, but it was more welcoming than the dark hospital room where a stranger was sleeping.

Erin drew in a deep breath as well, though hers was more to try and slow her racing heart than because she needed the oxygen. "Good teamwork," she murmured, with what she was fairly sure was a silly grin on her face. Right at the moment, she didn't mind. If there was ever a time for a little silly happiness, it was right after a kiss like that. "Let's go out," she said suddenly. "We can take the truck. I want to see how fast it goes now." With her system revving the way it was, she had to to let the energy out somehow.

"You'll have to tell me some of her stories," Erin told him, looking around automatically as they walked in. It was an Alzheimer's-equipped ward, with a simple keypad lock and the code written just above it, to allow visitors while confining the most vulnerable patients. Erin didn't like thinking of being that old and absent in mind, but it still beat the alternative, she guessed. She had a brief flash of deja vu when she looked at the high-tech monitoring system at the nurses station, and realized she'd been here before. Well, not here, precisely, but to a here very close to here. Dr. Atom had needed some components from a computer system, and had hoped that the keypad system might have protected this one. Which it might have, had not the patients and staff been inoculated. It had looked a lot different back then, with a lot more rotting and dessicated... stuff. She definitely wasn't going to share that with Mark. Shaking it off, she automatically took in the entrances and exits as they walked down the long corridor. "Do you know when they'll send her home?"

"That's really nice," Erin said, meaning it sincerely as they walked down the cold white hallways past the luckily-empty nurse's station. "You'll wear it eventually, I'm sure. So you're hanging around just in case she wakes up, so she won't be alone?" It was important to concentrate on the conversation, rather than on the location. Erin's feelings about hospitals were complicated. She was glad they were around and available, but actually being in one did nothing for her. Mark didn't need to know that though, and she was pretty confident he wouldn't notice her mild discomfort.

Erin would've come up with something clever to say, but looking into his eyes, she sort of forgot how to be clever, and most of everything else as well. "Yeah, okay," she said on a sigh, closing her eyes and leaning in. It was awkward at first with her hands in the way, but she quickly remembered to bring them down and put them on his back instead, which made for a much more satisfying experience. It was strange, she thought, with what parts of her brain were currently working, that even with body and mind thrown into chaos, she couldn't remember ever feeling quite so safe as in Trevor's arms at this moment.

Erin gave him a quick smile. "Well, being teammates isn't all about fighting supervillains, right?" She fished around for something to say that wouldn't sound comforting or banal. "Um, so this is the grandma who was married to Jimmy Lucas, right? I bet she has some crazy stories to tell." Erin already knew the craziest one, but it seemed entirely impolitic to bring that up, especially under the circumstances. "Is she still pretty sharp, mentally?"

Erin was as good as her word, making the trip across the city in less than five minutes once she'd gotten her shoes on and poured food into Oliver's dish. She had on a pair of jeans so new they still had the folding creases in them, and a green sweater Mark hadn't seen on her before, which was a rarity for Erin. She covered the last hundred meters on foot so as not to attract attention, walking in through the revolving lobby door like any visitor. "Hey," she said, walking over to Mark. "How's your grandma doing? Any news?"