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“I heard that they’re planning a few muggings tonight,” Rachel told Iris as they sat with the rest of their gang behind the Goodwill.  “In our city!  What the heck guys, what the heck?  We gonna just let’em do that?”

There were assorted comments to the negative, and Rachel bounced her head up and down in that odd, ostrich-like manner she adopted whenever she was getting pumped about something.  “Thank goodness for our resident nerd, right?  Otherwise, we wouldn’t know exactly where they’re gonna be.  We wouldn’t be able to mess’em up as bad as we’re gonna!”  She was pacing side to side on the top of the dumpster that made her podium, and pulled out her phone.  “Here are your assignments, kids.  Show’em we won’t stand for that sort of uncivilized behavior in our city!”

It was gonna be a bad night for crooks and thieves, for the Goodwill Gangsters, the only real gang with any claims to Darkwell’s streets, were on the case.  They were a somewhat odd group; though made of the same sorts of discarded society members as any other gang, the GGs preferred to spend their time in little charity acts, video games, and the random calls to action to pull out some vigilante justice.  They were a good group, one that Iris was proud to be part of.


[color=7f79c1]“G…”[/color] she said, as she took the stamp and patted it on the ink pad again, [color=7f79c1]“G.”[/color]  The two letters stood in resolute irreverence on the foot-taller lady-thug’s forehead, and Iris smirked to herself.  She’d taken down her target quickly, and marked her with the permanent ink that would tell them during the day whom they had taken down during the night.
But it had been a weird fight.  The thug lady had jumped Iris, as expected, but seemed to have more trouble with some sort of internal pain than with Iris’ steel knuckles.  Eventually, she’d just crumpled over for no real reason that Iris could tell.  Iris had checked to make sure it wasn’t a heart attack or something, but it didn’t seem to be.

Iris stepped back, admiring her handiwork, and nodded to herself.  She turned to continue her walk when a Jeep flew by her, barely missing her by just inches.  She jumped back onto the sidewalk, eyes wide and adrenaline once more pouring through her, cursing loudly into the night.  What the heck was that, some drunk who couldn’t see properly?  She stared after the Jeep until noticing that it had turned into the apartment complex just two stops away, and decided to go give that person a piece of her mind.

The Jeep was still idling in its parking spot, headlights illuminating the building ahead of it, when Iris caught up, and Iris walked up to the driver window, prepared to angrily bang on it.  Then she realized that she was still wearing her knuckles, and as she took those off, she glanced into the car and saw not only that the driver was that punk girl from the diner that morning, but also that she was ON FIRE!  Iris let out a little shriek, forgiving the driver for a moment, and panicked.  She tore off her leather jacket, put back on the knuckles, jumped onto the little foot stool at the driver door, and rammed her hand through the window, followed by her other hand with the jacket in tow.  She didn’t say anything but muddled yelps as she slammed the jacket down on the flames, putting them out as she pretty much ignored the lady herself.
She slowed her ministrations as it became clear that the fire was out for now, and with one final pat, removed her jacket and stared at the woman.  [color=7f79c1]“SMOKING IS VERY BAD FOR YOU!”[/color] was all she could think to blurt, her terrified eyes wide as saucers as she now clung to the door with one hand.

[@Kiroue]