Katrina
Katrina Rutherford knew, far earlier than she should have, that she was a coward.
She relied on Zeke, and her mother before she ran away, to protect her, always hiding behind him or barricading herself in her room as he faced their father. Her brother took her blows, accepted the heavy punches and kicks of their father for her mistakes, and all she could ever do was run away. Even when her powers as a Promethean manifested, it just made her escape easier, shifting into a gaseous state and disappearing from the cabin until the sounds of flesh packing ceased. Age brought her no courage, and she was still never certain how she managed to sensationalize sound or sight in her gaseous state, but she remembered the study percussion her father beat on her brother with sickening clarity. At times, she would swear that she could hear every drop of blood hitting the floor, all the bones that snapped, every small gasp and groan her taciturn sibling let slip. And still she could never make herself take his place, never face the towering frame of her father, even the day that everything had changed.
She had stepped in front of her progenitor, intent on taking the blow for Zeke. She had promised herself that she would not run away, that she would protect him this time, but fear had overwhelmed her in the last few second and she had turned into her gaseous state before the strike could land.
Then, even as a floating chemical agent, her entire world had turned white and all forms of noise had disappeared.
When her senses had returned, she had found herself far from her home, farther than her father had ever allowed her to go and before she could begin the journey back, there was another white flash. Again, her world became nothing but white, but that had passed and she had begun the way back to the house, turning human and running through the landscape of ash where a forest once stood. It stained her shoes and her dress, clinging to her limbs as sweat began to bead on her skin. Her lungs began to ache, and for a time, she wasn't sure if she was even headed in the right direction, but she didn't stop. She had to make sure Zeke was all right that he hadn't been incinerated in the destruction of the forest.
Eventually, her body gave out and she stumbled, crashing into the ground and forced to rest. A sound drew her attention upwards, and she lifted her head to gaze at a trio of dark helicopters streaking by overhead, suspiciously low. She chased after them, pushing herself as they descended lower, circling like vultures for a time before dropping downward again. Arriving shortly after their touchdown, she watched men in dark, full-body suits with masks to protect from any contaminants in the air disembark. Their boots quickly lost their shine as their footsteps kicked up ash and they raised their rifles as they advanced cautiously. Stepping onto the stone base of the house, they barked orders at its single occupant, a crimson-skinned boy with steam leaking from his eyes. As their shouts grew louder and they began to gesture with the weapons, Katrina raced forward to her brother, shoving aside the men.
"Zekey!" she threw herself into his arms, stunning him for a moment. His touch had a soft warmth to it, and she smiled as she nuzzled against his broad chest. He quickly recovered from his surprise and worry that she would be harmed by his touch, capturing her in a strong hug as he sobbed in relief. Suddenly, a rough hand seized about her and she was torn from his grasp by one of the men.
"Don't move!" one of them shouted, his grip tight about her arm while the others closed in about Zeke.
"Lemme go! Lemme go!" she screamed as Zeke scowled, rising to his feet. One of the men stepped forward, hammering the butt of his muzzle into the boy's sternum but Zeke caught the barrel. The metal heated in his grip, turning to slag and dripping between his fingers while his other hand reached for the man's face. Radiation pumped through his palm and the man screamed as his blood boiled, his skin turning a violent red as blisters formed.
A voice whispered in her mind, and Katrina suddenly knew what had to be done. She grabbed the sleeve of her captor's suit, tearing at it before transforming into a gaseous state and sliding into the opening. The man's skin peeled away at her chemical touch, and the fumes slipped into his nostrils and mouth, producing the same caustic reaction. He screamed before his lungs filled with blood at which point it devolved into a gruesome gurgle as he dropped and she drifted out, returning to human state as her brother seized another man, violently twisting his neck about as a bullet thudded into his right pectoral. Growling, he threw the limp corpse at the offending party as Katrina ran and leapt at another man, pulling his hood down. She thrust her fingers underneath the seal of the mask to his skin before turning them into gas, sending them into his eyes and orifices as he fell to the ground.
Zeke roared as he grabbed another, throwing him into a sitting helicopter and nearly knocking it to its side. The man slumped from the dent, crashing into the ground with a wet thud. Katrina shifted into a gas as one of the figures turned the firearm upon her, the bullets passing through harmlessly as Zeke slammed into the target. He gave a savage grunt as he twisted an arm completely about in its socket while his other hand grasped the woman's head, cooking her brain. Another bullet bit above his hip and the cloud of his sister streaked forward, partially solidifying to tear into the suit before fully sublimating again. She burned through his flesh, drenching his clothes in blood before he dropped and she withdrew, solidifying and glancing about at the small massacre. She clenched her eyes shut and she shook her head before whimpering, "Zekey?"
There was a sharp rapping sound against metal and she gave a slight jump as glanced towards one of the helicopters where Zeke was pulling out military uniforms from a box. Smoke drifted up from his bullet wounds as he cauterized them, sealing the flow of blood. He had already pulled on a pair of cargo trousers and was searching for boots to fit his considerable feet. Katrina raced over, slamming into his leg and wrapping her arms about it, whining as the heavy smell of blood and charred flesh invaded her nostrils.
"I-I ran again. I'm s-s-s-sssorry. I-I-I-I ran," she sobbed as he ran rough fingers through her brown hair. His hand disappeared for an instant as he pulled on a tan shirt before kneeling down to her, and scooped her into his arms. He scooped her into his arms, stroking her brown hair as he cooed to her, offering wordless assurances as she sobbed into his shoulder. "D-daddy . . . th-th-those m-men – they're a-all dead. W-we did s-s-something bad. We're g-gonna b-b-be in trouble."
His one arm tightened about her as he used the other to pull on the boots, stuffing the laces within them before standing. Studying the mangled corpses, he continued to stroke Katrina's back. Stepping back onto the stone base of the house, he moved to where the darkened shape of their father was burned into the ground. For an instant, his stoic face twisted into a snarl and he slammed a foot down, shattering the shadow's head before striding away, with some of the last words she had ever heard him speak.
"We both run. And if anybody else tries to hurt us – we burn them."
Like her brother, Katrina doesn't bother with an alias. This is the end of their origin unless we are inspired to continue.
These are our characters, our scenarios. Do not steal or use without express permission.
