Difference between revisions of "User:Gemini-Pawn/Test Drive"

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(Created page with "<div style="padding-right:6px; padding-left:6px; border: 6px Solid #C8C864; color:#fff; background-color:#19004B"> <div style="font-size:14px;color:#FFFFFF; "> Something feels...")
 
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Something feels off. I don't know what it is, exactly. But the new guy's powers are definitely doing something to me. I shook his hand like I always do with our new members. But I didn't look up his profile first. That's a recipe for disaster. Who knows what I picked up? I keep telling myself I'll do my research next time. Always next time. I bet Krow would be lecturing me about being careful if he wasn't so distracted worrying about me. I smile to myself as I think of him.
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For over a decade I've been putting on a mask and costume. But even after all these years I never get tired of the wind rushing around me as I fly through the sky. It's almost therapeutic, balancing out the chaos down in the streets that I have to deal with. My evening patrol has been pretty quiet so far. There was a young punk holding up a convenience store earlier, but that hardly counts. I barely had to lift a hand.
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It's strange. Normally I try talking to these petty crooks first. They're no threat to me, so I can afford to be gentle. Tonight though, my heart just wasn't in it. A simple flick of the wrist and he was knocked out with the butt of his own gun. I shouldn't make a habit of that. After all, these crooks arn't animals to be put down, they're people who need our help. So what's different tonight? Well there's no time to think it over. An alarm echoes through the night sky. The ringing is loud, I must be close.
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This isn't just some small-time robbery. Nobody breaks into a biotech lab looking for money. The chemicals produced in this facility can be pretty scary in the wrong hands. The front door's knocked down. Sloppy work. Or maybe they don't mind the attention. I stay close to the walls and try to stay out of sight so I can get a feel for the situation before I jump in. No guards in the lobby. Could be a solo act-
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Without warning, a hailstorm of bullets whistles past me and shatters the windows. Looks like they made the first move. A telekinetic bubble and a few seconds is all I need to get a good peek at the thugs. Looks like my first hunch was right. Someone dipped into the discount bin when they were hiring henchmen. These amateurs are wearing civilian clothes and cheap gas masks to hide their faces. They also don't seem to notice that they're just wasting their bullets on my shield. How on Earth did they ever get the resources to hit a place like this? Well I can't have anyone getting hit by a ricochet. One forcefully expanding bubble shield and the clumsy crew is down for the count.
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No sense sneaking around now. If anyone's left in here, they definitely heard the gunfire. Sure enough, I spot one making a break for the back door. He's wheeling some kind of canister in a hand truck. Must be what they came here for. My powers bring the cargo to a sudden halt, sending the crook into an ungraceful flip over the hand truck. He hit the ground pretty hard. But it won't keep him out for long. I can afford to leave him for a few seconds. Besides, something doesn't add up. A place like this should have had security staff on site. The thugs might have taken care of that. Somebody might be hurt. Better go check.
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“<font color="#C8C864">Holy-!</font>” I arrive at the security office just in time to snatch the whimpering guard's gun away. He was seconds away from putting a bullet in his temple. “<font color="#C8C864">Are you alright!? What's wrong?</font>” He's unresponsive. I can't get him to calm down enough to speak. What could make this man try to take his own life? I don't have time to think about it. I shouldn't leave him. But that crook I flipped through the air is going to be on his feet soon. “<font color="#C8C864">Listen. I don't know if you can understand me right now. But I need you to stay put, okay? You're going to be alright, I promise.</font>” Better get rid of his gun, just to be safe. I take another route back and find two more security guards in a similar state. They're absolutely terrified.
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I have to figure out what's going on. Time to put on my interrogator face and get some answers. Honestly, I doubt my fake scowl is going to intimidate anyone. But luckily my fiance is an expert at getting information and I've picked up a few tricks along the way. Once I find my front-flipping friend again I gently twirl my hand and hang the unsuspecting thug upside-down in the air. Let's peel off his mask so we can talk face to-...face? “<font color="#C8C864">Dad!?</font>”
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I lost my mom when I was nine years old. From that moment on, my father was my whole world. He made me into the hero I am today and I loved him more than anything. Eleven years later, I lost him too. But I never forgot his face. I can't believe it's really him. “<font color="#C8C864">B-But how? What...What are you doing here?</font>” I can barely speak as I gently set him back down.
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Thanks to Krow's enhanced brainpower, my head is swarming with a million different theories trying to rationalize this whole scenario. It's all ludicrous. He's dead and I know it. This can't be him. But my heart has the reins. I hold him tightly in my arms, ignoring all the warnings in my head. I just don't care if he's is a fake or an illusion...I want it to be true so badly. He pulls himself away just enough to look me in the eyes. It's him. It has to be. Just seeing him smile warms the part of me that died the day I lost him. “<font color="#9696FF">Janet, sweatheart...I-...</font>” He stops and turns pale.
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Something's wrong. “<font color="#C8C864">Dad? Dad! What is it? Say something!</font>” I try to shake him out of it, but he just stares at me. A shocked look is frozen on his face. I know that look, and I know what comes next. In the blink of an eye a slice appears across his forehead as if from an invisible knife, letting blood drip down his face. “<font color="#C8C864">No...<b>No!</b> Dad, stay with me! <b>PLEASE!</b></font>” My mind races trying to figure out how to fix this. Maybe this time I can save him! But what do I do!?...His eyes glaze over. He bled out almost as quickly as the cut appeared. But that's impossible! How can it already be too late!?
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The first time I lost my father it left an old wound that I carried with me all these years. But now it's fresh and it hurts just like I remember. “<font color="#C8C864">Dad...Dad, don't leave me...Not again...</font>” I don't know how long I've been sitting here holding him. His blood is staining my suit and there might me more crooks out there. But I can't let go. I can only reduce my sobs to quiet whimpers in the dark. Maybe the leftover thugs won't hear me...Or maybe they will. I just don't care anymore.
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They don't keep me waiting.<br>
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<b>*Bang!*</b>
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I felt it. I've been shot. That's weird. I didn't even feel any pain...As a matter of fact, it felt more like a tap on the back of my head. I must have picked up some superhuman durability from the new recruit. Lucky me. Suddenly everything seems clearer. I don't recognize the man in my arms anymore and he's not bleeding, he's unconscious. It doesn't take me long to process what happened. The thugs were wearing gas masks for a reason. I've been drugged.
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Slowly I pull myself to me feet again to face the stunned crook pointing his sidearm at me. I'm going to do something I'll regret. Deep breaths, Janet. You're in control...Or so I tell myself. “<font color="#C8C864">For the second time in my life...I watched my father die in my arms. You have just made...A very...<b>VERY unhealthy mistake!</b></font>” In a panic he backpedals and unloads the rest of his clip. But I keep pace with him. Half his shots miss their mark. The other half bite my skin like little flies. One bad step and he's flat on his back. In a fury I leap on top of him and tighten my hands around his neck. I want to tell him how much hate I feel right now for what he's done. But I can't form the words. I didn't even know I could growl like that.
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Years ago, I was all alone with my grief. This time I have an outlet. A gasping, flailing outlet. I can see the life draining from his eyes. I can feel it flowing into my fingertips and up my arms. Must be something else I picked up from our new recruit...<i>My god</i>. It feels amazing. Every passing second his face becomes more gaunt and emaciated. He's wasting away and I don't even question it. Why question it? He deserves it for what he put me through...No. No, it's not even about revenge anymore. Just the thought of draining him dry excites me, drowning out any last shred of grief that I felt. He just doesn't have the strength to shake me off anymore. My whole body just seems to relax and soak it in. <i>Ohhh</i>...But it's more than just weakening him...It's making me stronger. I know in the back of my mind I should stop. I'm not a killer...But...I'm sure he can last a few more seconds. Just a few more. Besides, who would miss him? Who would find out? I <b>need</b> more.
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My quiet slice of heaven is suddenly interrupted by the sound of police sirens. It snaps me back to reality long enough to notice the man with my hands wrapped around his neck. I gasp and fling myself off him. He wheezes as he starts breathing again. Thank god. He's not dead. Another few seconds and I might have-...I have to get out of here. Have to find an inhibitor...I can't be trusted...Can't be trusted with these powers.
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Latest revision as of 15:29, 26 April 2017

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