If you were to picture the office of a Pro hero, tedious boredom would certainly not be the word that came to mind. Heroes were all about action right? They worked tirelessly because evil didn't sleep and the Pros needed to be ready to fight back at a moment's notice right? Welllllll, not quite. It turns out that evil really did sleep. Even criminals needed to rest and, in the down time between patrols or missions, heroes had another form of evil to destroy, one that even the strongest trembled in the face of: paperwork.
Stupid damage reports, stupid arrest processing… Uraraka seethed internally, wielding the tipp-ex like an unholy sword against yet another mistake in the mountain of paperwork that sat upon her desk. She'd been at it for the last hour but the towering mass of forms and reports didn't seem to waver, even after her helper had taken away over half of it to give her a hand, and it was sending her loopy.
When she had signed on as a sidekick for Ryukyu's agency a few months prior, Ururaka had expected it to be difficult for many reasons, she just hadn't been expecting one of the reasons to have anything to do with her hatred of writing. She groaned, massaging her stiff writing hand, and resisted the tempting urge to jump out the nearest window. Not like they didn't warn you. Part of the job, get on with it, she thought. She hated it when she was right. Still, Ryukyu hadn't sent her on patrol in hours, it wasn't like she was complaining over nothing, in fact she was starting to suspect her mentor was subjecting her to some sort of lesson. Had she made a mistake recently that she'd forgotten about? Nah that couldn't be it.
Uraraka stabbed her pen through a thick wad of police reports with murder on her mind and got on with it, wondering briefly is it was still too late to go back to her old agency: sure it was a step back but atleast she wouldn't have to worry about arthritis.
"Hey Miss Uravity, I finished those forms for you!" A voice called, snapping Uraraka from her paper and ink based genocidal thoughts and bringing her back to reality. She turned towards the doorway of her tiny office where the voice had come from, the cramping muscles of her neck screaming at her in protest, and gawked wide eyed at the man standing there, trying to figure out if the boredom had finally driven her to hallucination.
"Midoriya, how did ya' finish all that already?" She asked her assistant in disbelief, but the cheerful young man simply laughed, scratching the back of his head with one hand and holding a stack of neatly organized papers under his arm with the other.
Izuku Midoriya, the agency's greatest weapon in the war against administration work, made his way into the room and Uraraka could feel her sour mood being washed away by the force of his sunny disposition. He was a little meek, always hunched over slightly to make himself as small as possible, always wearing work clothes a little too big that hid his skinny frame, but he had a genuine heart and a kind soul that made it so that Uraraka couldn't help but like him.
"Aahaha I must have p-picked up the simple stuff, I'm sure y-you would have been just as fast," he chuckled, shuffling himself towards her desk nervously as if he were unsure whether to approach. He placed the stack of forms politely in her out tray and gave her a beaming megawatt smile. "Anything else you need help with Miss Uravity?"
The sound of her hero name briefly dispelled the sense of awe that had taken over Uraraka and she sighed, shaking her head. "Midoriya I told ya' before, you don't have to call me Uravity all the time! Call me Uraraka," she smiled at him, trying her best to put him at ease. Two years, he'd worked at an agency, and still he practically worshiped the ground that all heroes walked on. "In fact, call me Ochako, we're friends y'know!"
Midoriya's face lit up like a christmas tree, her words sending him into a babbling and wildly gesturing mess, "N-no Miss U-U-Uravity I couldn't do that! I mean…you're a Hero and I just work for you after all!" He rambled, only stopping when Uraraka stood up from her prison sentence of a desk chair and clapped a hand on his surprisingly solid shoulder. She fixed him with a sunny smile and he immediately froze, staring at her like a deer caught in headlights
"Don't sell yourself short Midoriya! You help all the Pros here so much, we'd be lost without ya! Just look how useless I am with all this junk," she slapped the mound of paper, almost certain that it had grown a few inches while she wasn't looking. It was true enough: Midoriya was the Ryukyu agency's admin assistant and Uraraka had once overheard the dragoon Hero once boast to her fellow Pro's how much of an asset he was. According to her, the man not only possessed the work ethic of several people, but also a borderline genius mind for analysis: his input having led directly to the capture of several villains in the past.
Despite her words of genuine praise, Uraraka was helpless to stop the sudden look of depressing resignation from maring Midoriya's face. The usual shine of his eyes hollowed, and he spoke without the optimistic lilt that he was known for, "You're too kind Miss Uravity, but I think you're overestimating me a little," he capped it off with a gentle smile.
Uraraka faltered a little, unsure of what to say. She wasn't used to a downtrodden Midoriya, even when sitting at his desk he radiated an aura of nervous but hopeful energy, probably from working closely with so many of his idols, and yet he stood before her so out of sorts that it worried her a little. "Is everything okay Midoriya?"
He shook his head and blinked a few times in rapid succession, clearing the blank look on his face, "Ahh s-sorry, I was lost in thought," he straightened the tie he wore around his baggy collar and back up slightly, "Anyways I should probably get back to work, just let me k-know if you need anything," he mock saluted, sending Uraraka into a mild giggle fit. Whatever had made him so down seemed to have passed so she let it slip her mind.
"See you later Midoriya," she said, giving a short wave.
The nervy man paused for a moment, halfway between the door and her desk as if contemplating something. After a second or two of thought, he looked over his shoulder and smiled kindly, "P-please, call me I-Izuku…Ochako," he said, tripping over his words and trying to hide the growing red tint to his cheeks. Before she could respond he bloated from the room, leaving a dust cloud and several scattered papers in his wake
Uraraka was too stunned to speak at first, but once she had processed his words, she grinned from ear to ear. She was still grinning uncontrollably when she sat back down at her desk, even the daunting pile of work was unable to phase her now, she was just in too good a mood. She restarted the monotonous grind, the same as before, but now her thoughts were planted firmly on the green haired man at the front desk.
Despite knowing him for a number of years, the truth was she knew very little about him. They had attended the same school, her on the hero course and him on the general one, and had worked together for a number of months but, other than the fact he was quirkless and had a heart of gold, the nervous young man remained a mystery to her.
There's an easy way to change that, y'know a voice that sounded suspiciously like her friend Mina reverberated through her mind, knocking her off balance slightly, and leaving her wondering if she had been spending just a little too much time with the pink queen of mischief. It wasn't as if Midoriya was undesirable or anything, in fact she found him quite cute. He was plain looking sure, but he had an adorkable charm that was endearing to her: the problems started when she considered her job. It was harsh to say but she was a hero first and a person second, the life of a heroine wasn't one that left much in the way of a personal life so, unfortunately, Midoriya (and anyone else for that matter) would have to be put on the back burner.
The gravity hero sighed: she'd accepted the price of heroics a long time ago.
A high pitched, buzzing whine pierced the flow Uraraka had found amongst her work and briefly, she debated snapping her pager in half, Instead she ripped the offending black box from her belt and peered in annoyance at the scrolling red text. Ryukyu was calling her. She didn't even bother to check her phone, she just got up from her desk, and borderline ran to her boss's office door. It was already open when she got there and she wasted no time lingering.
The head office of the 8th ranked Pro hero in Japan was exactly what one would expect in that it was gaudy as hell and beautifully intricate. It carried the same chinese style motif as the rest of the office, with all its red and gold finery, but it was also decked out wall to wall with breathtaking statuettes that depicted all manner of mythical beasts. Dragons dominated of course but dotted about the room were fierce guardian lions, elegant cranes, and even a few sinewy looking tigers. This was all massively contrasted by the organized chaos of half formed design ideas for the Pro's own clothing brand but Uraraka decided no to focus on all that.
Ryukyu was waiting for her, phone in hand with a surprised look on her half covered face at the immediate response time. She got over it in short order, returning the phone to her desk and giving Uraraka a warm but fleeting smile.
"Uravity, I'll keep this short, I need you to patrol Quicksilver's usual beat tonight, she's been injured this morning and I know you haven't been out for a while," the dragoon hero's smirk was subtle, but Uraraka caught it anyways. It seemed that a disdain for boredom was something even the veteran Ryukyu could understand.
Uraraka's first instinct was to jump for joy, but she felt she had to ask, "Is Quicksilver okay? What happened?"
Ryukyu flapped her hand dismissively. "Just a fractured arm, nothing Recovery Girl can't fix by tomorrow," she answered, glancing at the ornate clock behind her, "It's a 6 to 12 shift, do you know her route?" When Uraraka nodded excitedly, the Pro smiled in approval, "That's my girl. I'll double your pay for tonight, since it was such short notice, dismissed," she winked.
"Thank you Ma'am," Uraraka snapped to attention before darting out of the office. Floating away in happiness in front of your boss was probably considered bad manners after all.
She made her way swiftly back to her desk and hastily grabbed her costume's helmet, fastening the pink visor with practiced ease. With a face splitting grin the gravity hero practically skipped down the hall to the agency's exit, excited at the prospect of actual hero work. A distinct lack of a green haired man at the front desk knocked her out of her stride somewhat, but even that wasn't enough to dampen her spirits. Double pay~ Double pay~ she sang to herself. She'd be the first to admit that monetary incentive wasn't the most heroic drive but hey, holidays to Hawaii for her parents didn't pay for themselves! Besides it was win-win, she got paid to help people; the thing she loved the most. Her boring as hell day was finally starting to look interesting!
"Welp, this sucks," Uraraka mumbled, as she sloped down the high street.
Three whole hours of patrolling the slowly darkening streets to the west of her agency, and nothing had happened. No rampaging villains, no car accidents or fires that needed heroic intervention, not so much as an old lady needing help across the street and it had her on the verge of pulling her hair out in boredom.
In the back of her mind, she knew she was being unfair. If she was bored, it meant that the streets were safe, and that should have been its own reward, but dammit can't there at least be a cat stuck in a tree or somethin'? I'm dying here! She yelled in her head. It wouldn't do well for a hero to be caught inviting tragedy after all, even minor ones.
Up above, the sun had long ago disappeared behind the mountains that surround the city, bathing the neon monster in all the colors of the rainbow and stretching the deep shadows of the shady alleys in back streets unnaturally long. A perfect festering ground for villainy if they hadn't apparently collectively agreed to take the night off. The moon was only half full, which Uraraka found a shame: the lights of Tokyo made stars a scarce wonder and the black canvas of night could look boring whenever the moon was hidden. Then again she should have been keeping her eyes peeled for things out of the ordinary rather than gawking at the heavens anyway, so it didn't bother her too much.
All around her the sounds of a breathing city played on a loop: mindless chatter and rumbling car engines pounded in her ears but it was all background noise, nothing she had to be concerned about. The hollow *thunk* of her own footfalls echoed far and wide thanks to her shock absorbing boots, but it was barely a whisper compared to the noise of the night. She prided herself on her keen senses but even she couldn't hear anything noteworthy. That all changed when she strolled past a long stretch of umbra soaked alleyway that she could have sworn wasn't there the last time she'd walked down this particular road.
The entrance was half hidden behind a patch work wall of cardboard and corrugated iron but there were signs of obvious forceful entry. Sheared metal and scraps of refuse littered the sidewalk around the alley, and the faint sounds of distress could be heard over the bustle of the night, the barest hint of moans of pain. Uraraka took barely more than two steps into the dark before she spotted the flecks of blood and God knew what else splattered across the concrete floor. In the gloom she could see the outline of bodies.
She didn't think: someone was hurt and that was all that mattered, and so she rushed forth, eyes scanning the pitch black expanse for any threat, any danger that was lurking that needed to be dealt with. She found nothing but the unconscious forms of four men laying face down in various, haggard states of injury. At least, she was hoping they were unconscious. A quick check of their weak but still there pulses dissolved her fears and she was free to inspect them for any major trauma. Violent, dark red bruising covered each from head to toe, hard to make out in the low light, but obvious enough to know that these men had taken a serious beating. What was easy to see however, was the jagged edges of broken bone that poked out at odd angles from their arms and legs: one even had a nasty looking compound fracture that spanned the length of his forearm and it almost made Uraraka gag. These men needed medical attention, fast, but moving them was not an option.
From her belt, Uraraka retrieved her phone alongside a compact flash light, and flicked the latter on after some fumbling. With one hand she dialed the hero's direct line for emergency services and used the other to sweep the beam of her flashlight over the bodies to carefully inspect the damage of the prone men, at the very least she needed to stop any excess bleeding while she waited for the the line opened, she spoke quickly into the phone, detailing the extent of the victims injuries and felt a sense of relief wash over her as a handful of seconds later, two ambulances were on their way.
She knelt down beside the man furthest from the back streets entrance and leant close to whisper meaningless words of comfort that he could not hear, "Hang in there, okay? Help is comin', you'll be alright," she knew it was pointless, the man was out cold, but it was all she could do. With her close proximity however, she spotted something interesting.
The man was laid out flat, wearing what appeared to be a ratty cotton v-neck, covered with a jet blac jacket from a brand that she did not know. The relatively sparse clothing showed off a little too much of his chest for Uraraka's tastes, but it did allow her to see the beginnings of a rather intricate tattoo of a snake. Only the fanged head was visible, barely peeking out from under the fabric covering his right peck, but all Uraraka had to do was peel back the blood dampened white cloth, and she found a much larger design. It wound its way across the peak of his shoulder and, from what she could see, ran all the way down his back and across his arm. It's acid green visage snarled at her in the meager moonlight and it hardened her heart.
She didn't recognise the design but she knew what it's existence meant. These men belonged to a gang.
A swell of conflicting emotions consumed her, pulling her in two directions over what she was supposed to do. They obviously had no fight left in them, but that wasn't to say that their friends were hidden in the shadows waiting to strike. All heroes have two goals: help those in need, and beat up bad guys, now she didn't know what was the priority.
Her internal conflict didn't have time to come to a head thanks to a sound like grinding metal tearing at her ears and making her heart leap. The noise was distant: far enough away to not be an immediate threat, but loud enough for her to know that it must have been almost deafening up close. Whatever it was, it was coming from further down the street, and Uraraka knew that she wouldn't be able to do her job in this dingy alley. She spared one last look at the gang members, confident that the paramedics could help them, and tapped herself gently on the arm, activating her quirk.
Even after years of practice, the nausea wasn't something she'd ever be used to. She trained everyday to keep her tolerance high, but sometimes, if she ever let her control slip it could be overwhelming. That's why it was a relief to be able to step off from the air onto the domestic roof after only a few short seconds of floating, and why she was happy to know exactly where she was going.
One advantage of heroics at night was that even the smallest of lights cast massive telling shadows, easy to see and easy to chase, exactly like the rapid moving shades she had her eyes on now. A scant few blocks away, in a backstreet much like the one she had just came from, a soft orange glow painted the dynamic shadows of someone high on to the face of the surrounding buildings, playing out their brutal looking fight out in real time for Uraraka to follow.
The noise of whatever conflict was happening were mostly drowned out by the sounds of approaching sirens. Good, now I don't have to worry about those four down there. A jagged blade, easily 50 foot long, pierced the night sky with malice, and disappeared back into the far away alley in an instant. Oh naw, that's much better thank you she thought to herself dryly.
Despite her misgivings, she launched herself off of the roof's edge with all the grace of a slightly drunk swan. At the peak of her arc, she re-activated her quirk, sucking down the wave of sickness that hit her and propelled herself as fast as she dared into the frey. The cool night whipped past her in familiar fashion and the closer she got to the action, the more concerned she became. As far as she knew, no hero other than Quicksilver patrolled this beat, meaning that whatever was going on down there, she would be the sole hero in the mix: definitely a primary target for the criminals involved. She pushed aside her fears with a violent shake of her head and forged ahead. She reached the lip of the building surrounding her targets in no time at all, and scuttled to the edge overlooking the alley to get a firm grasp of the situation.
Far below her, a large group of people were scattered all across the concrete floor like bowling pins: some still standing but most laid out much like the men she had encountered earlier. Even at a distance she could feel the static in the air. A rotten orange glow from an aged and fading security light threw the outlines of the figures into sharp relief but it wasn't enough to make out the details other than the fact that there were only four on their feet. One figure, cast in the deeper shadows, stood alone in the face of the other three, swaying on his feet. He staggered once, twice, three times, and with every stuttering step the others backed up with uncertainty, their bodies rigged, their fear palpable.
One of the three, more brave than his friends, or perhaps more stupid, launched himself at the apparant foe with reckless venom. He swung his massive fists (quirk enhanced, Uraraka noticed) at his assailant in wide, desperate haymakers, while screaming incoherently and for a moment, it looked like his punches would connect, until the lone man moved like a viper. Knuckles inches from his hidden head, the shadowman's knees buckled, throwing his entire body to the floor. He sprang back up an instant later landing a savage uppercut on his opponent's exposed chin, and he followed it up quickly with a solid kick to the chest. The now limp body flew back with surprising speed, knocking over the second man before he could react. The third man almost growled in frustration, reading himself for combat, but he made a vital mistake. For a split second, he took his eyes off of his adversary to check on his friends, giving the shadowman the time he needed to close the gap. Too late, the third goon struck his hand out, shooting a jet of purplish goo in front of him, but the shadowman was already on the move. Faster than Urarak could follow, he jumped, launching himself at the alley's wall and springing from the old brick with acidic pace to swipe a metallic looking boot at the third man, cleaving him down. He landed next to the prone bodies of the other two, one of them still struggling to find his feet. The shadowman lashed out with his foot once more, ending the fight with no room for argument.
The whole exchange took less than 10 seconds.
Now alone, the sole survivor of the scrap dusted himself off, almost bored with his victory and began methodically checking the bodies of his downed opponents. What for, Uraraka had no idea, but she was sure that it wasn't for anything heroic. No matter how frightening this person was to witness, she had to intervene. Criminals or not, the man had assaulted no less than 20 people in an area under her protection and that could not stand. She was Uravity, Pro hero, and she would uphold her justice. The thought strong in her mind, she cleared the edge of the roof and floated down noiselessly, in the hopes to get as close as possible without alerting him.
Now at street level, Uraraka could see the extent of the carnage of the fight. Unconscious bodies of all shapes were strewn about the backstreet haphazardly, draped over trash cans and buried under random detritus, all sporting one serious injury or another. Broken glass and hunks of rough hewn metal filled the gaps between at random intervals, some bits even smoking slightly from the damage they'd suffered. The brick work of the buildings was covered in erratic, violent gashes, like some great blade had been wielded without a thought in the confined space. The shadowman stood in the center of it all, still determinately patting down his victims for whatever it was that he was after.
Uraraka tried her best to get close to the man but still, he stiffened the moment she got within 30 feet, his body coiling like a spring, ready for the ambush. He whipped his shadowy black form around her and for the first time Uraraka got a good look at his face. Or rather, she got a good look at the motorcycle helmet/respirator/hood hybrid that covered his face.
His wore a deep, dark green bodysuit, patched sequentially with thick cut plates of body armor that covered his back and sides: blood red boots, surrounded by a cage of gunmetal and black steel that ran the length of his leg to his knees, almost cracked the concrete in his haste to face her. The off white of his gloves was somewhat hard to see under the partially dried and slowing cacking blood of the men he had fought but it mixed with the red of his arm braces so Uraraka couldn't tell where one started and the other ended. The metal grill that protected his jaw was massive, giving the impression of a maniacal, face splitting grin designed to cow and intimidate, with the rest of his always hidden face encapsulated in an onyx black and reflective motorcycle helmet. Finally, a baggy hood, the same color as his suit, draped over his head like a shroud, the two distinctive points rising from it: giving him his namesake look.
Yes, Jackrabbit was quite distinctive, and Uraraka had had the displeasure of meeting him many times before. She braced herself for the grating, cocky, ear piercing tone that was sure to come.
"Uravity~ it's you! How's my favorite astronaut?" The tension drained from his body, and he spread his arms wide in what he no doubt thought was a friendly gesture, as if a hero like her would ever be friends with a vigilante like him.
"Jackrabbit…" Uraraka growled, legs primed to launch at him. She knew his basic strength enhancing quirk was simple: dangerous yes, but simple, and if she could touch him before he could react, she might be able to finally, finally bring him in.
Somehow the hooded man pouted without showing his face, "Aww come on Uravity baby, don't be so cold~ I was just asking how you are," he brought one gloved hand to his chin in thought. "Come to think of it, what are you doing all the way out here? Isn't this Quicksilvers turf? I tell ya, that speed quirk of hers is a pain. Then again, yours is probably way more dangerous huh?" He giggled, way too childlike for such a deadly vigilante. During his ramblings, Uraraka edged ever closer, moving fast enough to make progress but slow enough that she hoped it wouldn't spook him.
Keep him distracted, she could hear the monotone voice of her UA teacher, Eraserhead whispering her advice. "I could ask you the same. What are you doing, and why did you attack these people?" She bent her knees slightly, readying herself, and stalked forward at a snail's pace. If he had caught on to what she was doing, he gave no indication.
Jackrabbit stepped over the body of the man he had been searching, putting a mild barrier between himself and the gravity hero, and resumed his frisking, this time making sure that she was always in his line of sight. He knew how dangerous she was, especially in close quarters. "People?" he chuckled, and for a brief moment his tone wasn't lighthearted and playful like usual. Instead, it was cold, hard, and teeming with fury. "These aren't people," he spat "This little gang of scum run a trafficking ring, and what I'm doing, is trying to find out where they're based of course," he leaked a little of his irritating sarcasm into the last few words, acting as if Uraraka was a child he was teaching the ropes to.
Uraraka's heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second, was he lying to throw her off? Was there really such a group operating under the nose of her agency? If what he was saying was true, then she needed as much information as possible. She pushed down the sickening feeling that came from the thought that she'd tried to help these possible slave traders and forged ahead. "If that's the case then tell me what you know and my agency can take them down," she took another measured step forward.
The masked man merely laughed, as if the prospect of aiding heroes was some big joke, "As much as I'd love for me and you to work a little closer~" Uraraka was sure he'd just winked at her ugh, "I'm gonna take this one myself. Can't have you pesky heroes getting in the way now can we?," With caution that betrayed his humorous tone, he moved to the next nearest unconscious gang member and repeated his shake down. He was silent while he concentrated on his task and Uraraka used this as an opportunity to shuffle closer, she was still a good 20 feet away.
Suddenly, the vigilante ripped his arm away from the jacket of the man he had been searching and whooped in triumph, making Uraraka jump despite herself. In his gloved hand he clutched a small black device the size of a cell phone, but with a long rubber antenna sticking out of it. "Found it! Whew, I thought I was gonna have to wake one of these idiots up for a minute there," he laughed at his own joke, waving the object tauntingly in Urarakas direction. "Bet you wanna know what this is right? Tell you what, gimme a little kiss and I'll tell ya." he tapped the side of his face grill, making a metallic ringing sound
"Sure, take off the helmet and we'll get to it," Uraraka ground out, getting more annoyed by the second.
Jackrabbit found this entirely too amusing and his laughter grated her ears. "Don't tempt me Uravity, for you I just might," he cooed, shoving the device into his pocket. "Well, this has been fun star girl, but it's getting late and if you get any closer to me I might end the night in a jail cell which doesn't sound too fun."
Uraraka froze in her tracks, Dammit she scolded herself. Now caught, she decided to throw caution to the wind and launched herself at him, hoping to at least get herself in range to brush him with the tips of her fingers. Her hopes were dashed the moment she left the concrete floor, as the vigilante wasted no time in taking action. His hand disappeared into one of the many pockets of his jumpsuit where he retrieved a smooth black capsule about the size of an apple, which he casually loosed into the air with a flick of his thumb. The unassuming ball made contact with the ground not far from where Uraraka charged at him, and promptly exploded into thick plumes of inky black smoke.
She didn't have the chance to evade, her own momentum saw to that, and she was left a coughing and spluttering mess until she managed to extricate herself from the choking black cloud. Through her watery, stinging eyes she could just about make out Jackrabbits insulting enthusiastic wave goodbye from his vantage point up upon the roof Uraraka had made use of earlier.
She had to refrain from screaming obscenities at him in frustration. She'd have no problem giving chase of course, her quirk made vertical pursuit a trivial matter, but she knew that by the time she could reach him, he'd be long gone thanks to those damnable freerunning skills of his.
"I'll leave it to you to clean up the goon squad down there, and hey, I'll even let you take credit. They've all got arrest warrants, I promise!" He yelled down to her, his final words to her before he disappeared from view and evaporated into the night in a fashion that was becoming infuriatingly familiar.
She stood there, staring up into the sky at the spot he had just been and wondered if it was counterintuitive to slam her head into the wall in order to prevent the oncoming migraine. She checked her watch, the luminous green face reading 11:38: at the very least she could go home and ruminate on her failure to capture that bastard in peace. Before she could do that however, she really did have to deal with the goon squad. She swept her gaze once more over the chaos of the alleyway and grimaced. There wasn't a chance in hell she'd ever take credit for this brutal showing. Gang members or no, the sheer magnitude of violence on display was well beyond the pale for any self respecting hero.
For the second time that night she slid her phone out from its secure holster and dialed for the emergency services, this time making sure to request several police wagons alongside the ambulances. The gravity hero sighed as she waited for the cavalry to arrive, her head swimming with the depressing thought that somewhere out there, in an area under her protection, people were being bought and sold. Something that she could do nothing about, all because some moron in a jumpsuit decided he wanted to play hero. She smirked at the irony of her bitterness: really, he should just leave it all to the professional idiots like her.