[IC] Calling all Supers

[Blue2]

Alexander listened to her explaining what he already knew and what they would be doing today. Would there be trouble in the streets? Perhaps. Probably. He hadn't really thought about that. He rarely considered how other supers would feel anymore. Their lives were so vastly different from his that he had no idea really what it would be like to live in fear of being found out.

He frowned at her question, though. She asked how he felt about the Ray? That was the first time any one of them asked him. He'd had supers ask him why he did what he did, after he helped take them in, but never a normal. He figured it was a trick question. She either wanted something from him or something on him.

Alexander considered his answer for a moment, then shrugged. "It's what the people want." He answered simply, going for the safest response.

[ColouredCyan]

Michelle Diggby, 27

Pathokinetic / Washington DC

Michelle hung the reciever back up.

It was hard to tell anymore if she was shivering or trembling, crying or wet from the rain, but a shaky hand wiped water off her cheek. There was nothing left to do but go home and try not to think about how desperately scared and alone she felt. It was only a matter of time until she fell ill enough to need some sort of blood test, it wouldn't be tomorrow but it was a certainty. She might as well sign the papers now, save herself a fine, and get shipped back home a registered Super or made a government lapdog. It hard telling which was better, being forced to inflict her misery and ineptitude on other Supers or the incredible welcome her anti-Super parents would give her on arrival. Michelle punched the coin release, stuffing the coins into a pocket. Nothing left to do here.

Michelle was about to walk away, she caught a woman pointing towards her in her periphery and checked back towards the booth to see what was worth pointing at behind it. There wasn't anything of interest, a vacant storefront with shuttered windows. When Michelle turned back to them, they were already happily scuttling off, clearly amused. Michelle was not amused. Who does that? Who makes a soaked, desperate, lonely person look and feel more stupid than she did already for a quick gaff? Their mirth hurt. "That bitch," Michelle spat through gritted teeth,"I would lay her out if she-" Before Michelle could even start rolling up her parka sleeve the woman slipped in her heels stepping over a puddle, ungracefully collapsing first onto her ankle and then her knee. Her partner stopped the disaster in slow motion from falling any further, much to Michelle's disappointment. The schadenfreude eased the pain, a tiny little catharsis of the awful emotions that plagued her, for a brief moment she wasn't doing the worst, she hadn't twisted her ankle, she hadn't scrapped her knee or palm, she hadn't muddied her dress and she didn't need the support of a weedy man to stop her from face planting either.

Breathe Michelle, you've not been caught yet.