1:34am Initiate manual Black Box recording
Interesting
Recall
First observation, subject reaches out and stops a runaway cart of sheet metal from hitting a pedestrian. Edges are sharp, cuts on hand are deep. She refuses aid, helps return the cart to the construction works up the hill. Contact lost, next encounter 1 hour 2 minutes later, hand completely healed, no evidence of injury can be found.
Total injuries observed to date, 175, every time the speed and thoroughness of it is mind boggling. Bleeding stops within 5 seconds of any laceration, no matter how deep.
Paper cuts take an average of 36 seconds to heal, a knife wound 4 to 5 minutes, a bullet wound at most 16 minutes; all of these not leaving a single scar behind, only a bruise in the shape of the wound that heals as a normal bruise would.
Even with this fact, her body is littered with scars, the majority done with medical precision.
Implications.
Terrifying.
Fingers run lazily over her bare knuckles, sweeping the warm soapy water over angry swells of darkened flesh. The skin is thick, most likely a result of combat with and without her gauntlets
"I can't believe you just ran in there."
A throaty chuckle replies.
A lie, she believes it. Of course she would charge with the forward forces, allowing me to drop down with the aerial squads and enter from above. Over the radio, she repeatedly questioned my location and my status. Reassured, out of sight, I covered her back. Against all the talks, it is instinct for her to obviously scan behind her to get a visual on me, action that would definitely draw attention. The enemy would have used this to their advantage to uncover my location.
However, if they were to capture me, there is very little chance that she would surrender and comply with their demands.
"You know me, if there ain't door."
One of her many mottos.
"I have to make one."
Correct, it was satisfying to smash a window as an entrance. Thrilling, I never enjoyed taking part in property damage before.
Zero casualties. 34 wounded, but there were zero casualties on both sides; the most serious injury being one of the Brass Moth thugs leaping out the window and falling three stories into thick bushes. Multiple broken bones but expected to survive.
Unsure if it was being caught completely off guard or the amount of attention Vi drew by tearing out all 15 distilling vats one after the other that allowed for the relatively smooth operation. Most of the fire focused on trying to stop her, she spoke of needing to replace her blast shield cores.
Tom is due in court tomorrow, all involved officers are now enjoying a week of paid vacation, courtesy of the assets seized from his coffers.
A full seven days of nothing. No work, no cases, not even a call from the station unless it was the utmost importance. All these rules enforced by Vi's promise of a smashed nose to any offenders, or her personally ripping me away and finding something else to distract me.
The mayor begrudgingly congratulated the task force on their exceptional performance, though he strongly expressed that he would've liked to have been more informed of the operation. "Routine drug bust" would no longer be an adequate description in the future. Vi has made it an inside joke with the task force now, they plan to have a cake on the first day back with the words in icing.
Ribbons are in the works, the awards ceremony is a couple months away.
He told me to write a speech to accept my "Open Heart" award, a publicity stunt to gain support from uppercity citizens who sympathize with the lowercity. It's a small group, one that's sure to grow soon with our efforts, but he will be the first to stake openly stake the claim of "cleaning of the streets we've forgotten for too long." He has taken notice of the new trend of lowercity focused work I have put in motion.
A different game, he plans to gain power from my actions.
I refused.
If there was anyone who deserves the award, it was Vi.
He would refuse, no doubt, still against the fact that I had recruited her. In his mind, she would only stain the award, that she had personal goals to achieve by helping the lowercity. It would be more honorable if an uppercity citizen, someone like me, was recognized for reaching out.
Wide eyes, slack jaw, eyebrows drawn up. Blank stare, sudden shake of the head, scowl, gruff response, mumbling under breath. Heavy footsteps out of the door.
He thought I was mocking him, attempting to make him seem a fool. He does the job well enough himself.
A shift in the water, her voice rumbles against my chest.
"You up for a movie and some take out after this, maybe some Ionian food?" Warm body presses flush with mine. She flexes, muscles rippling against soft skin.
Stifle a sound.
Amused eyes gaze up, wicked grin, she has other plans.
"Or maybe I could eat something else."
Scoff, crude as always. Like a child, amusing, dirty. Hands moves through the bath water and glide across my thigh. Pressing gently, massaging, teasing.
It smolders deep inside, but the bath is too comfortable, too warm, too calm. Draw her body closer, nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck, the scent of clean soap and earthy tones. A sigh, a smile, a murmur.
In a few minutes, let's just stay like this for a bit longer.
I feel her the pulling of her lips, she leans back and relaxes. The hands swim away.
It is nice, pockets of, for the lack of a better word, gentle, like this. Contrast to the hustle of the station, to the rambunctious energy of Vi herself, the stress of life.
Now quiet
Serene
A moment of peace
My love
1:42am End manual Black box recording.