Vision colored only by the backs of her eyelids, Presidio nodded at 4Sight’s response, wishing he had elaborated on the others. Despite that failing, she understood, he was likely juggling other more pertinent thoughts such as strategies and how to utilize his own abilities and considerable experience best.
Her attention shifting she finished the rest of her armor, allowing its various components to remain floating entirely out of the way, unmoving despite the motion of the helicopter. With that finished she called to mind images of compound bows, frowned, and then opened her eyes. Swiftly she extracted her phone, opened a search engine, swiftly typing in a related search. Even as it loaded Presidio began creating more forcefields. As she honed in on a set of designs she duplicated her initial work and created the remaining necessary parts before closing off her phone and stowing it away. Setting to the task with a fierce diligence, Kari expanded upon her initial designs, stress testing where she could, and losing some awareness of her surroundings despite the constant motion and noise.
While she worked, SWAT addressed her and without opening her eyes, she responded. “Hard to say, but I’m confident that they can if they’re layered sufficiently. What is it you have in mind?” Following that, Kari fell silent, focusing on her work.
They touched down while she worked and she let the others disembark first. Once everyone was out of the way she extracted herself from the various protective belts and then, with a mental command, pulled her forcefields inwards. As she stepped out of the craft, dozens of forcefields of various size and shape arranged themselves and locked into place on her form, slotting into armor that was both decorative and functional--something that mundane armor would not be quite so well suited to accomplish. At one point there appeared gauntlets around her forearms and hands, but they quickly became enclosed by another set of interlocking shields and mechanisms. Even as they fitted into place she began locking most of them in, letting them shift purpose.
Briefly her gaze swept over her teammates before observing the street, the buildings, and then--high above--the situation that had brought them all there. Frowning slightly, Presidio couldn’t help but be daunted by the sheer scope of it. The quantity of the wires and cords entangling the helicopter, encapsulating the hostages, and keeping the far away figure aloft. Narrowing her eyes faintly she fixed an expression somewhere between honest determination and an imperious cold across her features. The woman had taken hostages and held their lives in her hands and while she’d known before, seeing it was something different.
Presidio flexed and clenched her fingers and in an instant forcefields rapidly began to pop into existence around her. Quite intentionally she took several steps away from her comrades, giving herself room to work. In the seconds that 4Sight used his power, she used hers, crafting several things at once, though this time with her eyes open. She called to mind arrows and as they were relatively simple things, she was able to quite easily construct them, but perhaps from more components than one might expect. When one was finished, it would “collapse” into itself, becoming shorter before floating swiftly into a compartment within the set of constructs that encased her arms.
By the time 4Sight stumbled, drawing her eye, she had roughly two dozen of the arrows crafted and hidden away. Their squad leader spoke and she nodded, frowning ever so slightly before the expression slipped away, leaving only a slight tension in her features as she spoke, “I don’t like this.” She directed her gaze back to the shaker, scanning for more details. She leaned forward slightly and squinted, as if that might help her see and while it didn’t she still managed to confirm something. “I think we have independents on scene,” she said, soundly only faintly unsure.
Then, before she could reevaluate their situation or say anything further, chaos ripped loose across the street before them and her eyes widened in an instant of confusion, which was followed swiftly by dawning terror. Wire had torn across the empty street in devastating fashion, shattering glass, cutting away at vehicles, and otherwise causing tremendous damage. Her mouth opened and she took a step back, but caught herself, not allowing any more retreat than that. She shut her mouth, lips pressed into a thin line as the noise and chaos of it all swiftly diminished, glass tinkling to the ground in an unpredictable staccato of sound.
While fear had dominated, she let a thread of anger well up to balance it, then tempered that as well, even as she shifted her awareness to her power, distracting herself from the statement that the villain’s actions had made.
“I don’t think she has any interest in talking this out. 4Sight, can you get us more information about the positions of the hostages?”
As she spoke her forcefields folded themselves into incredibly thin, notched chains, which fitted into one another and began to connect to the larger construct of her armor, specifically at her back and looping around to the constructs enclosing her gauntlets. By this point she was a figure outlined in an expanding halo of blue, almost crystalline, forcefields. Around her a veritable aura of additional shields continued to appear and arrange themselves to her will.
While she said nothing further aloud, Kari had made a decision. First she and her squad would assure the safety of the hostages...then she would take out and thoroughly restrain their target.
If she had her way, the woman just might find herself restricted by the uncaring embrace of someone else’s power.
Despite his suggestion, it seemed that the beast of a cape had decided to take on the more easily accessed target. Understandable, if rather annoying. Tilting his head he watched at the startling display of speed and violence as his sole ally charged and attacked the woman. Something flew across his field of view, passing from one end of his multiple perspectives to the other in a frantic rush where it then struck the woman. She toppled, the door avoided, though through outside means. His gaze casually slid across the room as he advanced, shifting to her partner. Briefly his grin widened, but as the man spoke, threatening lives--and with a conviction the woman had lacked--the mirth in his eyes went cold. At the edges of their awareness faint glimpses of his various duplicates would begin to make themselves known. Each looked faintly different, something that was a result of his state of dress during their creation.
Noting this development, Exactly began to pick up the pace, approaching with renewed vigor. As the monstrous cape attempted to attack the woman a gunshot rang off, aimed at a hiding child. A cold anger flashed through him as he processed the villain’s threat and--worse still--his blatant disregard for life. Driven to disable the bastard, Exactly pushed off into a dead sprint, his movements undetected. In but a moment he found himself across the room, and directly in front of the counter that the menacing villain stood upon.
Without any remorse or hesitation, Exactly drew back his baton, met the man’s still unseeing eyes, and then drove the baton--with all his strength--into the side of the bastard’s shin. Immediately, Exactly generated a duplicate, then darted to the right three feet. The duplicate would appear as if it was recovering from having struck the man with a baton, taking a step back before lunging back up and at the man in what appeared to be a tackle. It moved with speed and grace that was slightly off as if unencumbered by the world. Still, it would be well within the man’s ability to react.
The same could not be said for the second strike, which came at an odd angle just as the illusory form of his power lunged at the man. Rather than strike at the man himself, Exactly had deigned to slam the point of his baton into the raised gun in his hand with the express intent of disarming him.
The smile on both his and the duplicate’s lips was one of cold mockery, without empathy, and with clear disdain.
Exactly loathed murderers.