When she'd been younger, she'd seen a physics demonstration, where a man would lay down on a bed of nails. Normally if one fell on a nail, it would easily pierce the flesh - that's just what happens when that much weight is behind the fall, on such a small point of impact. But spread that impact over hundreds of nails, and each nail would be supporting its share of the weight just fine - not enough force to pierce the skin, and thus you could lay on a bed of nails.
This was the same principle that allowed Shatterbird to fly. She had no inherent power allowing her to soar through the air, but get enough glass near her controlled by telekinesis and she could make a platform of the stuff. Have it surround her, and now only was it moving her more efficiently, but she could use it as armor. Of course, she could only go so fast (especially straight up against gravity) before the glass would be digging into her flesh instead of pushing her up. Bonesaw's upgrades had ensured her top speed was higher than it had ever been before, though.
She floated lazily through the air, nearly a mile up. The height brought many advantages the primary one being defensive: most teleporters didn't have the range to get up so high in a single jump, and most other flyers wouldn't be so fast that she couldn't at least see them coming. Another benefit was navigation: from up here, the city was more-or-less identical to the map she'd memorized, allowing her to locate her target with ease. And with the precision inherent in her power, she knew exactly which bits of glass she was directly above...and thus, knew exactly where she was in relation to her destination. Hookwolf would be a wonderful addition to the Nine.
"Fiat caro lapis~"
Shatterbird whirled around in time to see some kind of Blaster power slam into her. Her movements became sluggish, with even her glass failing to move her properly for a few moments. She started to fall, slowly but surely. She broke the wings off her suit - they weren't helpful for flight anyway - and sent them hurtling at the stranger.
The goateed man in purple robes smirked."Custodiens vi~"A barely-visible sphere surrounded his body, and her glass slammed into it with all the effectiveness of someone trying to punch the smile off the Siberian.
The distance between grew and grew as Shatterbird's vocal cords strained from the effort to fight against whatever he'd done to her. It was getting worse, and she was creeping closer and closer to outright freefall. Every muscle in her body screamed at her every attempt to do something, but she just barely managed to look down at her arm, where the beam had struck. She would've laughed if she could: it was practically solid glass, and the effect was creeping up her arm beneath her horrified gaze. She could see some of Bonesaw's implants beneath her now-transparent skin. She wanted to curse the girl for not having some defense against this, but it wasn't as if any of them had predicted such an attack. And what good would it do now?
Her voice finally failed her, and the solid glass sculpture surrounding her began falling apart as she hurtled to the ground far below. It was even getting hard to think. It was possible Bonesaw or even Mannequin would be able to reverse this somehow...but that wasn't the Nine's way. If she died, there would be no tears. She'd never ev-en tol-d j-ac-k h-o-w s-h-e-
Gale stared down at the falling form of his opponent, a little disappointed. He'd prepared so many spells, in case Shatterbird managed to throw off his opening volley. Various teleportation effects allowing him in and out of the forcecage as he pleased, spells that would assault her mind and body whenever he was outside it, even a contingent resilient sphere on the off-chance she survived his best attempts for the hour it would take the cage to disappear. Instead, all it had taken was one spell for her to completely lose the fight, and now a few hundred pounds of glass were hurtling to the ground.
At least he didn't have to worry about casualties or fatalities. Gale had posed a question to the city itself prior to engaging, to figure out if he would need to catch her falling form, and had discovered she was floating above the lair of a local cult leader - a man who dealt in bloodsport while fancying himself a warrior, serving as inspiration to other small-minded men and women similar to himself. Nothing of value would be lost, then.