[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/7bkbXx5.png[/img][/center]

Jefferson sat on April's couch, legs crossed, and rapped his fingers along the underside of his shoe. Leaning back, he startled himself on a pink, sequined throw pillow. After he had readjusted said pillow, he picked up his phone and checked the clock for only about the fifteenth time. Sighing, he called out, [color=ff4500]"Come on, let's see it!"[/color] He was understandably anxious to admire his own handiwork.

April, meanwhile, was considerably [I]less[/I] enthusiastic about the prospect of being seen in Jefferson's ensemble. Tugging at the hem of the bright red skirt, she stepped out from the bedroom and folded her arms. The costume, such as it was, was more than a little form-fitting in places that April didn't care it to be. [color=adff2f][I]Obviously designed by a man,[/I][/color] she thought with some measure of resignation. Grabbing a fistful of the heavyweight fabric draped over her back, she held it out and asked, [color=adff2f]"A skirt [I]and[/I] a cape? Really?"[/color]

[color=ff4500]"It's a classic look!"[/color] Jeff responded defensively. Leaning back, he sized her up a moment before declaring, [color=ff4500]"I think it looks great! Very retro sci-fi chic. Don't you just love the color scheme?"[/color] She didn't. The green made sense, but white and red? April wasn't entirely convinced. Not to mention that she felt the radiation symbol on her chest was just a [I]bit[/I] on-the-nose. [color=ff4500]"The best part is that it doesn't just [I]look[/I] good. That's state-of-the-art poly-weave fiber; it could survive a cannon blast. Plus, it's thick enough to insulate some of your ambient radiation for when you're running really hot."[/color]

April considered herself in the mirror. Stylistic differences aside, she couldn't deny the craftsmanship on display, though she did wonder where Jefferson learned to sew... or how he got her size exactly right. As she took in the moment, she removed her glasses and let her hair down. One thing was for sure: No one who knew how she normally dressed would recognize her in [I]this[/I] thing. April swung her hips to watch the cape flutter behind her.

[color=ff4500]"Now, all we need is a name,"[/color] Jefferson announced. He sat forward, tapping his chin. [color=ff4500]"Isotope? I like it, but I don't [I]love[/I] it. Hmmm... what about Geiger Gal?"[/color] April flashed him a look, and he nodded. [color=ff4500]"You're right. I'm overthinking it."[/color] As she shook her head and went back to assessing the costume, Jeff thought a moment. Suddenly, his eyes brightened. [color=ff4500]"I've got it! Miss Megaton!"[/color] He held his hands out as if he were presenting a theater marquee.

April turned and made eye contact. With neither excitement nor inflection, she replied, [color=adff2f]"I am [I]not[/I] calling myself 'Miss Megaton.'"[/color] She was already well past the point of foolishness and could think of no better way to ensure that she'd never take herself seriously again.

Jeff, however, was undeterred. He wagged his finger. [color=ff4500]"I don't know. You're gonna think about it later, and it'll grow on ya,"[/color] he promised.

April rolled her eyes. [color=adff2f][I]Not likely.[/I][/color] Brushing her bangs out of her face, she gave half a smile. It didn't look [I]completely[/I] terrible, she supposed. [color=adff2f]"Alright, well, I think that's about enough for the test fitting. Now, let's just hope you don't have to cut me out of this thing,"[/color] she said with only a modicum of genuine concern. She picked up her glasses and began making her way back to the bedroom.

[color=ff4500]"Uhhh... April? I wouldn't get undressed just yet,"[/color] Jefferson shouted from the other room. As she poked her head back around the door frame, she found him staring wide-eyed at his phone. [color=ff4500]"Twitter's blowing up right now. Something about an attack going on downtown."[/color] He tapped something on the screen, and a video began to play. Although April couldn't see it from where she was standing, she heard the screams and the sound of gunfire. Jeff snapped his head around. [color=ff4500]"This might be a job for--"[/color]

April held up a single finger. [color=adff2f]"Don't say it."[/color]

[center]-----[/center]

Peyton was no stranger to warzones.

Prior to becoming a photographer, she had enlisted and served two tours of duty -- first in Iraq, then Afghanistan. The suffering she had witnessed firsthand had been the catalyst to trade her rifle for a camera. For years thereafter, she travelled to areas of great unrest, shining a light on the injustices of the world. She had witnessed disasters of all kinds: war, genocide, earthquakes, monsoons... Yet, in all that time, she never imagined she would experience a similar scene back home.

Century City was under attack. Death and destruction rained from the skies as an army of flying drones descended on the downtown area. Each of the drones -- which were about three times as large as their recreational counterparts -- were equipped with an array of weaponry, and someone had released them on the city to attack seemingly without discretion. The Century City Police Department scrambled to respond to the attack, but they were clearly outmatched and were already in the process of calling in the California National Guard. Citizens were advised to take shelter and stay off the streets.

Peyton had never been much good at listening, anyway. Heedless of the danger, she set out with her camera to document what was happening. That meant running [I]into[/I] the hot zone. She had had to duck a police blockade at the perimeter, which proved little challenge with how distracted Century City's finest were at the moment. From the reports which had flooded the Chronicle, the attack was loosely centered on the City Hall area. Peyton knew of a high-rise development project which would give her a bird's eye view of the action. To get there would involve a little trespassing, but she somehow sensed that would be the least of anyone's concerns.

As expected, Peyton encountered no resistance at the construction site. If there had been any security, they had long since turned tail once the shooting began. Removing her jacket, she laid it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence and went up and over. Hustling inside the half-finished building, she called the elevator and rode to one of the higher floors. When the doors opened, she stepped out into the open air and crossed the bare concrete floor to the edge where a window would one day be. Kneeling down, she looked down her camera's sights at the mayhem below. [color=ff69b4][I]Jesus,[/I][/color] she thought, watching the drones circle like an agitated beehive.

She snapped a few quick pictures, then reached into her bag for a larger zoom lens. The drones moved so quickly that they were hard to track, but Peyton had a trained eye. She picked a spot and waited for one to drift into view. [color=ff69b4]"Gotcha,"[/color] she muttered to herself, taking the shot. As soon as the shutter clicked, the drone suddenly turned to face her. Peyton's eyes went wide. [color=ff69b4]"Oh, fuck."[/color]

The drone made a beeline for her current position, so Peyton grabbed her things and scrambled to her feet. No sooner had she made it halfway to the elevator before she heard the familiar whirr of a minigun spinning up. Instincts took over, and she dove behind a pillar moments before a line of bullets lit up the spot where she once stood. They perforated the elevator doors, showering the room in sparks. Peyton ducked and covered her head.

In an attempt to figure out the drone's positioning, Peyton peeked her head around the pillar. The drone snapped around, opening fire again, as Peyton rolled out of the way. Bits of concrete and plaster rained down on her head. That machine would never let her get to the elevator, so she would have to chance the stairs. Sprinting, she neared her destination when something whistled past, and the stairwell erupted into a fireball. Peyton was thrown back by the force of the blast, landing near a workbench.

She had landed on her camera, cracking the lens. Yet, that was the very least of her concerns. Peyton lifted her head to see the drone bearing down on her. With a sigh, she reached for a wrench that the construction workers had had the good sense to leave behind. The drone circled, almost taunting her. Peyton resigned herself to her fate. Climbing to her feet, she gripped the wrench and prepared for her last stand. The minigun at the drone's center began to spin. [color=ff69b4]"Come on, then,"[/color] she spat.

There was a flash, and Peyton jerked her head, wincing. She was sure she was dead, but she had been expecting some pain first. Chancing a look, she opened her eyes to find the drone smoking. A hole had been blown straight through it, exposing all its inner bits. The drone shuddered, trying to bring its weapons to bear, but it had been irreparably damaged. As it shone a targeting laser on Peyton's chest, two hands took hold of it from behind and tore the metal monster asunder. Peyton shielded her face from the shrapnel, then looked up at her savior.

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/d6gnkjs.png[/img][/center]

[color=adff2f][b]"Are you alright?"[/b][/color]

[color=ff69b4]"I am now,"[/color] Peyton answered, letting the wrench fall from her grasp with a clatter. [color=ff69b4]"Thanks to you."[/color] She considered the newcomer a moment. Although neither of them acknowledged it, Peyton knew this must be the same girl from the Mag-Rail disaster. Century City's own guardian angel. Peyton smirked. Well, she certainly [I]looked[/I] the part, at least. After another beat, she said, [color=ff69b4]"Nice skirt."[/color]

The hero made an odd face, answering uncertainly, [color=adff2f][b]"Thanks."[/b][/color] A distant explosion drew both their attentions, and Peyton saw the other girl tense. Peyton began switching out her broken lens for a fresh one, as the girl turned back and said, [color=adff2f][b]"I've got to--"[/b][/color]

[color=ff69b4]"Yeah, definitely,"[/color] the photographer immediately interjected. [color=ff69b4]"Go do your thing."[/color] She gave a little smile to show that she was okay. The hero began to glow faintly and lifted off the ground. [color=ff69b4]"Good luck out there,"[/color] Peyton added by way of encouragement. The hero gave an appreciative nod before blasting off to go save someone else. Already, Peyton knew that the images she risked her life to get were worthless. By the end of the day, the drones would be backdrop to a [I]much[/I] larger story.

[color=ff69b4][I]Still time to get the shot,[/I][/color] she thought encouragingly, making her way to the elevator once more.