I'm wondering where Buffy is, though.
Funny you asked.
Scene 2
"Don't feel bad girl, that was just what she wanted. I suppose you could say that Death's your Gift."
Buffy Summers woke from her nightmare in a cold sweat, her blanket torn and her blood pounding in her ears. The past was so not a place she liked to revisit. Her digital clock read 12:53 AM; she'd barely slept at all. Tossing and turning, she tried to find sleep again, but she was restless. She had to go out.
Quietly, she snuck over to her closet, popping open the secret compartment she kept her costume in. The skintight unitard and matching face mask covered in bright patterns of flowing lightning bolts didn't match her mood, but it was comforting and safe, a symbol of all the good things she'd done.
She was all dressed up as Potential and cracking open her window when she heard a quiet knock on her bedroom door. With a frustrated sigh, she opened it, letting her stepfather in.
"Looks like my little girl is up to another jailbreak. I could tell you a thing or two about those." Ethan stepped into the room, looking at the ripped blanket neutrally and taking a seat on the bed. "You can talk to me you know. It's ok to be less than strong sometimes."
Potential chose to ignore the second comment. "Maybe Madcap could. But according to mom he is most definitely gone for good, and my dad Assault is squeaky clean." She paused, staring out the window and considering. "It's strange mice are the only animal that really squeaks, even though they're dirty all the time."
"Maybe the mice just want you to think that they're clean. You can't trust anybody these days," Ethan replied. He was always good at making her feel better, but Buffy felt like she needed something more tonight. She sat back down on her bed, next to him.
"You know I'll be safe. I just need to go out and do something, maybe make things better somehow." Buffy wrung her hands. Really, that was only half the truth.
"Ok. It isn't a school night, anyways. Just don't let your mother find out I could've stopped you." Ethan got back up, and opened the door.
"You wish you could stop me, dad," Buffy whispered playfully to his retreating back, just loud enough for him to hear. After he was gone, she finished opening the window, and Potential was loose, running the rooftops of Brockton Bay. She didn't have obvious mover powers like some capes did, but her strength let her be fast, faster than a normal human could really be, and she had a natural talent for parkour.
Just running across the city, she could pretend that she was just Potential, the leader of the Wards, a master of unarmed combat, the up and coming peppy personality of the Protectorate East-North-East. Buffy and all her baggage wasn't connected to her, she didn't even have to exist in this lively night of spotlights and shadows.
Without a clear route or destination in mind, Potential patrolled. She was quiet as the wind and just as fast, moving unseen above the people of the Bay. She saw a couple likely criminals skulking around, but they were small time, and none of them did anything wrong while she was watching. Shadow Stalker liked to stake out such small fry, waiting for them to make mistakes, but Potential lived for the hard fights, the even battles, pitting cape against cape. Shadow Stalker might be a better predator, but Potential was a warrior, exultant.
And then there was someone else on the next roof. Angel's white, feather-patterned costume shone in the ambient neon light as he leant on his golden painted staff, watching her. Somehow, she could always find him. Potential made the last leap, and joined the elder hero on the adjacent building.
Potential looked up at him, and felt the last of the quiet panic that had gripped part of her since she'd awoken let go. "Angel."
"Potential." He smiled a bit, and said, "We keep meeting like this. You're not on the patrol roster tonight, shouldn't you be asleep?"
"What? A girl can't look for a party on a Friday night these days? Are you sure these Puritan, New Englander morals aren't getting to you?" Potential had more reason than that to hope Angel wasn't fighting a sudden Puritanism infection.
"Not many Puritan morals to be found in this town." As usual, Angel avoided the question.
"Nope," she said, popping the 'P'. "Definitely not on this roof, anyway." Bold as brass, Potential slunk up to her boyfriend through the shadows of the rooftop and kissed him. Half-masks had way more benefits than just eating on the go.
The kiss was pleasantly long, but eventually Angel broke it, without quite managing to let go of her. "We can't keep going behind people's backs like this." Potential snuggled into his chest, reluctant to listen. "You're so young, and I'm on permanent probation. Maybe we should hold things back a while? I think the Director might even suspect."
Potential made a raspberry into his chest at that. "Giles? He so does not. Trust me Angel, I've known the guy for years. He's great at his job, and trusts us to do our jobs, but he has all the social instincts of an English Librarian."
"He trusts us, he even trusts me, despite everything, and look how we pay him back. If someone got so much as a picture, the scandal..."
"Would totally not be of the big. For all the public knows Potential is 18 and Angel is 20. It's not like there's a sign on me saying 'You must be at least this short to ride.'" Potential paused for a second, digesting that mental image before shoving it to the side. "We might not have time to wait. Our lives are dangerous Angel, especially yours, with the terms they have you on."
"You know I'm invincible." Angel chuckled a bit, even though Potential remained silent. "You've hit me enough times in practice to know at least. And if you had a good set for Endbringers, I know you would be there for every one."
Potential laughed a little too at his reference to their lopsided sparring matches, but sobered up quickly. "There still hasn't been a solid Scion sighting since Canberra." Angel didn't have anything to say to that. It had started as an unsubstantiated rumor, but after more than a month all but the most devout had to concede the first superhero's so called 'vacation' was real.
She filled the silence, "There's never as much time as you think there is." She kissed him again, holding him tight with her full strength, and this time Angel didn't try to push her away.
Sweet minutes passed, and it seemed like things might start getting more intense, but Angel's phone interrupted the proceedings with a buzz. The pair jumped, startled, but Potential made a zipping motion over her mouth and gestured for Angel to answer.
The phone wasn't on speaker, but Potential's hearing could just barely make it out anyway when she focused. Clockblocker's voice announced "Hey Angel, the Merchants seem to have gotten into another dustup and there were too many loud and scary noises for the PRT to want to poke their heads in all by themselves. Think you could spare some time from your rooftop brooding to check it out?" As usual, Clockblocker was not impressed with Angel's distant and gloomy attitude.
"Where?" Angel replied tersely.
"Their usual stomping grounds. I'm sending the exact coordinates to your phone. It's a little bit of a hike from your position, but Armsmaster is in the middle of something with the ABB right now and even farther away."
"Got it. Angel out." Angel flipped the phone closed again and lightly shook his head at Potential. "I don't know how you manage to be friends with those people, let alone lead them."
"It takes a woman's touch." Potential smiled, and then danced excitedly. "I'm coming too. Just say you ran into me on the way." Angel didn't bother trying to argue, and they moved out across the rooftops into one of the worst parts of the dangerous city. Angel lacked Potential's easy skill and didn't quite match her strength either, but his staff was long enough to work as a bit of a pole vault so he didn't slow her down all that much. Just running with him was invigorating in a different way than the kissing was, blood pumping through her veins with the promise of combat to come.
The scene was quiet and mostly empty when they arrived. The large garage door was still mostly open and there were a couple unconscious gang members left, most of them outside on the sidewalk and in the street. Junk was scattered all over and the place and the gory wreck of a large mech was torn in half near one wall.
Angel was serious. "Too much blood, not enough bodies. It's strange that they recovered almost all their wounded from the inside, but not the outside." Along with the scattered bloodstains all over the garage, there was a particularly big pool of it near an access hatch leading downwards.
Potential darted over to it and looked in. "This leads into the sewers. Maybe we could catch them if we hurry?" She could swear she saw gentle ripples in the central channel, and swung herself down to the narrow walkway on the side.
She distantly heard Angel call in the situation as she burst into pursuit at maximum speed, following her instincts at every intersection in the labyrinthine sewer system. She could swear she was getting closer, and could hear distant splashing over the thundering of her footsteps on the dirty concrete walk. Suddenly though, she came to a stop, and looked down, deep into an underwater tunnel. The splashing had stopped.
Angel wasn't out of breath when he arrived at her side, but that didn't mean very much as the hero didn't need to breathe. "I lost him. Or maybe it, I guess. I'm pretty sure it went where I couldn't follow." She gestured to the large, ripped open drain, leading down and down into blackness.
Angel was about to jump in and follow, disgust be damned, but Potential stopped him. "No. You couldn't catch it underwater anyways, it's way too quick. Let's go back to the scene."
It was lucky Angel was with her, because she had actually lost her way in the chase and needed to follow him back the way she came. He commented, "This city really has a huge sewer system. I've never seen anything like it."
"That's my hometown Brockton Bay: city of giant destroyed boats and sewers roomy enough to lose them in." To Potential, chasing villains around down in these tunnels had almost become normal after years of being a Ward. She was just thankful that her costume washed clean easily.
Eventually, they reached the garage again and found that the team of PRT agents had just arrived. The broken mech and the surrounding bits of gore were being inspected thoroughly, and another agent was taking samples at the irregular blood pool.
Angel nodded to the officer and knelt down, dipping his finger in the blood and sniffing. He stepped back again after, chatting quietly with Potential, "There isn't anyone dead over here, and this blood is wrong. I think it came from a power."
"Angel, your detective methodology isn't gross at all." Potential paused, glancing around the room, before continuing in a whisper. "Anybody you used to know?"
"I'm not sure. It's almost like … but there's a lot of it here, probably too much. If who I think it was went down that drain, he's learned a new trick since I last saw him." Angel seemed hesitant. Potential could understand how he wasn't eager to revisit the ghosts of his past.
The roar of a motorcycle cut through the night, and Armsmaster soon rolled right into the garage, stopping near Angel and Potential to get off his bike.
"Status?" Armsmaster was all business, even though he looked a little worn out already by the events of the night. His armor was dirtied up and had a couple surface scratches on it, and it looked like he was missing a bit of his beard.
"It looks like the Merchants had their garage raided sir, by who we don't know. We pursued someone down into the sewers there, but he had a headstart and fled deep underwater." Angel still seemed a bit intimidated by Armsmaster, not having gotten used to the brash Protectorate leader yet.
"Also, Angel said the blood in the big pool over there wasn't human," Potential piped in, taking control of the conversation.
Armsmaster nodded and quickly waved them over with him as he got a sample of his own. "I thought you were off-duty tonight Potential?" he asked.
She easily told the objective truth while avoiding certain particulars, "I was feeling antsy and decided to come out. Crime never sleeps, right? And it isn't like there's school tomorrow anyway."
Armsmaster gave an approving grunt as the attachment in his halberd sucked up a blood sample and then whished back into the densely packed tinker device. Potential knew the chronic workaholic would only approve of putting in extra time at the cost of frivolities like sleep.
The weird blood handled, Armsmaster led them back over to the ruins of the mech. "You should remember to switch your phone's beacon on, to keep control better apprised of the situation on the streets. I assume you've been keeping the Wards running smoothly?"
"Yeah, Shadow Stalker is totally coming out of her shell more, she was even nice to Vista once yesterday. Oh, and Kid Win was wondering if you could spare any time to help him with his Alliterator Canon," Potential wheedled.
Armsmaster gave her a double take before realizing, "You mean his Alternator Canon? It's a little ambitious for him, but being prepared for a superior opponent is often the preparation that matters most. I'll try to make some time next week for it."
The PRT Agents studying the wreck backed away as he approached to look. He studied the failure points where the mech had been ripped in half specifically, paying less attention to the crumpling. "Trainwreck's gear. This damage seems to have happened after it was mission-killed, and it happened fast. This was ripped apart by something that punctured in and tore, the occupant would've been hurt severely during the extraction."
Potential grimaced. "I guess they were in a big hurry? I can imagine criminals like this would rather be injured than in the slammer, and the fight wasn't quiet."
Armsmaster nodded. "Apparently so. This is a pretty resilient design, I could imagine Squealer having trouble getting into it quickly."
There was a bit of a silence as Armsmaster continued to work, and then Angel re-entered the conversation. "Are there any signs of who attacked the Merchants here?"
Potential wondered, "I'd guess the ABB or E88 would have put up gang signs or something, or trumpeted their victory somehow. Faultline doesn't operate in the city if she can avoid it, and the Merchants haven't antagonized her lately that I've heard about. Maybe the Scoobies pulled another robbery here? Slayer could probably grow gills, and I wouldn't put sewer swimming past her." Potential scrunched her nose at the idea.
Armsmaster finally got up from his inspection of the mech and started looking around the wreckage, presumably for something specific. After fishing around a bit, he came up with a scorched, donut-shaped tube filled with circular holes.
"I've seen this so-called Scooby Gang leave these flash-bangs behind before." Armsmaster sighed. "A big confrontation like this is bolder than usual for them. Between this and that hothead Bakuda setting up shop here, we should be ready for another round of gang wars sooner rather than later."