Novels2Search

'Fun Amy'

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Amy Dallon, what a character… She took a deep drag of her cigarette, uncaring of the chilly air, the beginning of winter falling upon Brockton Bay, it was coming early this year, it wasn't even Halloween quite yet. She tilted her head upwards, eyes closed, feeling the tiny snowflakes hit her face.

She was supposed to be working right now, supposed to be healing, helping, sacrificing more and more of herself - she was supposed to be a lot of different things…

Mostly very unhappy with everything and everyone, if she remembered things correctly from a grim story once read. She felt a wide grin pulling at her lips, pulling on unused muscles, as she inhaled another lungful of smoke, uncaring of the consequences of her little break. What were they going to do? Stop using her as a healbot?

She snorted, the sound carrying across the empty rooftop, as if!

She flicked some ash off her cigarette, the tiny particles flying away over the edge, she idly wondered what anyone would think, seeing her standing here like this. On the very edge of the roof, with just one easy step the difference between having problems, and problems being solved permanently.

Panacea? Suicidal? Why? Her life was so great! She snorted again, having to hold back a full out belly laugh at that thought, remembering the great deeds the future had held. How great the life of Amy Dallon had turned out.

Yes, she was definitely utterly stable. No doubt!

Well…

She was better than the original, surely? She flicked her cigarette butt away, letting it fall down to the hospital parking lot below. At least she had no intention of sexually assaulting her sister…

The aura was a weak ass excuse from a fucked up girl, using her broken mind to excuse any action, no matter how heinous.

Not that she necessarily had much against some regular heinousness…

"Of all the dingy little hospitals, in all the universes, of all the various bodies and minds of messed up people - I had to walk into this one…" She murmured to herself, almost playfully.

You couldn't get much worse than Worm, if you were to randomly bodyjack someone. But if you absolutely had to pick the setting, Panacea wouldn't have been her first, second, or fortieth choice.

Girl had issues.

And while she could now theoretically avoid some of those…

Amy Dallon was in the center of a lot of shit. And was unfortunately important to the plot.

She huffed, her breath visible in the chilly air, I'm basically dead already, so another life? Why bother with what's going to happen, I can't control it…

She slowly moved back towards the entrance to the roof, picking up her lightly snow covered burqa/superhero outfit on the way, sliding it on. She'd do Cauldron a solid, let them know of Eidolon and his accidental hard on for murdering the world - as long as he looked like a good little hero trying to stop it… What happened after that?

Panacea pulled the white hood with the well known red cross over her head, snow falling down onto the steps as she made it down the stairs, well, the rest isn't my problem, is it?

Unlike the original Amy, she didn't intend to be boring then suddenly batshit. She had a new body, a cool power to play with, and consequences didn't really matter anymore. So maybe not full on batshit - but why not have a little fun? Fuck with everyone a bit…

Whether Endbringers stopped coming or not, they'd all be dead in two years and some spare change anyway. Whatever she'd do while having fun, it would irrevocably alter things, maybe even butterfly away Skitter.

She doubted she could keep canon on track for the absolute ass pull that Khepri was, she'd change too much just by being herself. Nothing said she'd be around for unlocking Khepri, if that even happened.

So maybe things would actually get better? Or maybe they'd all die even harder?

Who knew?

Still…

Two years and some change to do whatever she wanted?

Not a bad deal for someone that died after years of being locked inside their own body, wishing, begging for death rather than the slow withering away of her psyche due to disease.

Watching as her family slowly abandoned her, not able to handle seeing her as she was. An already rotted corpse that just didn't have the decency to die already.

Two years of fun before dying?

That sounded like a great deal! Her grin was no doubt a bit on the wild side, as she exited the stairwell, into the hospital proper, a bit of a pep in her step.

"Uh… P-Pan-Panacea?" A young orderly with dark bags under her eyes drew Amy's attention as she stammered her way into trying to ask something. Looking freaked out about something.

Amy smiled again, trying to set the girl at ease.

She must be doing something different with her facial muscles, she thought, as the orderly squeaked, and ran down the corridor, babbling something.

Well, she hadn't been able to smile for years, so maybe she just needed practice again. She had the original Amy's depressing memories, but this whole body control thing wasn't as intuitive as she'd expected.

Apparently, the original Amy hadn't had a lot of practice at grinning either. She'd have to work on it. It fit with her recollection of the story, Amy had been a bitter little gremlin hadn't she?

She grinned at a cute security guard as she neared emergency intake, where her minder would most likely be hovering, hoping to find her. Inwardly she was frowning as the older man blanched visibly at the sight of her happy grin.

She couldn't be looking that odd, could she? Surely someone saw Amy happy at some point? Otherwise that was just… Pathetically sad.

Before she could ask the man what exactly about her smile was so unnerving, or ask for a mirror, one of the doctors that usually 'worked' with her - for a given value of the word worked - approached her, looking ruffled.

Dr. Martinez was a middle aged latina woman, with a constantly pinched look to her features, her graying hair kept in a bun, but always somehow having frizzy hair escaping and sticking out all over the place, giving her a harried look.

She was also very annoying about following her around, in case her medical knowledge was needed.

Despite the grand total of zero times Amy had needed to ask her anything, what with her power giving her an intuitive feel for everything biological.

"Panacea! Where have you been?" She said hurriedly as she got close, arms full of patients' charts, "God knows you deserve a break, but you have to let us know so that we can find you! What if we had an emergency?"

Amy raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing her arms under her unfortunately modest bust. "Well you do have to use that medical license now and then." She said blithely, walking past the stressed out woman, "This is a hospital, so you could probably do it without me holding your hand." She continued sarcastically as she passed.

Honestly! She wasn't even paid, would it kill them to do some work while she took a smoke break?

Dr. Martinez blinked owlishly at her, before scrambling to fall in step as Amy continued walking, "Panac- No, Amy… Are you okay?" She asked hesitantly.

Amy giggled, finding the woman's worry upon seeing her smiling, hilarious in a way, as none of them had worried when she'd been an obvious ball of angst and depression, "Wow, some teenage attitude is enough to worry you?" She rolled her shoulders, feeling a little bit more settled with her new body the more she moved, "I've repressed myself a lot…" She thought out loud, wondering how on earth the original had managed the stress of trauma medicine while keeping everything bottled up.

Regular doctors burned out all the time, and they didn't have to actually see the damage down to the cellular level of a rape victim when they worked on them. Healing really wasn't a good outlet for Panacea's power - it was just too depressing and self defeating.

She distinctly remembered snarkiness or outright bitchiness at times from the story in regards to her original's behavior. But perhaps it was not so much directed towards the staff where she worked? Pity that. Maybe they'd have left her alone more if she'd done so.

Maybe she'd have clued in to how healing everyone over and over again did nothing good for her…

Dr. Martinez eyed her oddly, but seemed willing to let it go, for the small favor of dumping a ton of work on her, starting to blather on about the charts in her arms.

Apparently the onset of winter hadn't been enough to cool the blood of the absolute blockheads that inhabited Brockton Bay. The charts she was carrying - almost exclusively belonged to gang members.

Amy wasn't sure she even wanted to continue with this hospital crap, but she allowed herself to be led towards said poor gangbangers, all of them suffering from gunshot wounds or broken bones.

BBPD officers were in plentiful attendance, all of them watching the moaning, idiotic, gangbangers attentively, with a mien of grim satisfaction. Said idiots were all handcuffed to their beds, the cops all keeping one hand near their gun holsters at all times even then.

Amy wanted to bang her head against a wall. They put ABB and Empire goons…. In the same treatment room? Why? To not split up the BBPD? That's still moronic. And it said something about the amount of casualties a Brockton Bay hospital could count on regularly, that they had emergency rooms with space to house almost twenty gangbangers in one large room off to the side.

She was kind of glad that even though moving around took a second to get fully used to, mentally, that she remembered everything about using her power. It would be beyond embarrassing to fail utterly at healing in front of all these people.

Too bad she couldn't really test her power's limits. Not with these many witnesses anyway. Although… Could she give the goons super cancer? It's not like anyone here could see into the patient's bodies…

Except… They'd all be dead in two years anyway, so why bother with cancer if she couldn't make it immediately terminal - which probably would get her bitched at, or press ganged into the wards to avoid a charge at the very least.

So something less obviously evil then… Something fun…

"Finally! What the fuck is your bullshit excuse for why you took you so long, bitch!?" An empire goon, absolutely covered in swastikas, bellowed from his bed, his large bulldog-like face squinting angrily in Amy's direction.

She'd like to say he was just unusually aggressive, but her memories told her that a decent amount of criminals she 'had' to heal due to her own messed up code of ethics - weren't exactly pleasant about it. Despite the utter insanity in trying to piss off the healer.

Perhaps the Nazis were a little cocky due to Othala being a good backup for their more worthy members. The ABB members usually weren't as much of an issue as the Nazi's. Or perhaps everyone in Brockton Bay had realized just how much of a pussy Panacea had really been - scared of her own power, of her own mind, of doing anything.

"I was fucking your mom." Amy said automatically in response to the asshole, continuing forward even as everyone in the room literally froze. She eyed them oddly. It was almost like seeing some sort of time power in use, they were all, even the police officers, staring at her. Seriously, she snarked before as the original, she knew she had. So she was a little more openly antagonistic now, so what?

"Figures you'd be a dyke." The Nazi spat out, once he got over the shock, beady little eyes glaring angrily at her, "My mom would fuck you up for even saying that shit!"

"That's enough, Larson!" The grizzled old officer standing next to his bed barked out, having overcome his temporary surprise at Amy's language. He grimaced as he turned towards Amy, "Perhaps best to do him first if you don't mind, he's the leader of this pack of idiots, the sooner we take him out of here the better."

Amy shrugged, uncaring of who she healed first, although she had her own ideas as well, what did she care if she got sued for it. Two year time limit after all until the world ceases to be, appeals would keep that shit away until they were all dead anyway.

Or she'd just go villain, and good luck collecting…

"Do I have your permission to use my power on you?" She asked the Nazi goon, smiling a saccharine sweet smile, that seemed to throw the burly man off, sweat appearing on his brow as he leaned back slightly in his bed as if to get away from her. She'd deliberately changed how she phrased her question too, substituting healing for power.

"....Fine…" He said after a few moments of silence, not nearly as mouthy all of a sudden.

Amy laid a hand on his wrist, her world expanding suddenly, she could see everything, feel everything. It would be so…. Easy… To just tweak something. A millisecond of work, oh she couldn't wait to experiment for real. See what she could really do to someone.

Her mind was already whirling with the things she could do to bacteria, or perhaps she could craft a virus or alter a drug to bypass her restrictions on working on herself. The possibilities were endless.

She was an old hand at healing already of course - following along with her memories, so the gunshot wound in his leg healed up without an issue, she barely had to put any thought into it, she didn't even need to shift any biomass from his oversized gut either, the injury was small enough he'd just need to eat well enough to replace the proteins she'd utilized.

It was a simple few seconds to really change things. Move away from passive heal bitch Panacea - the person who healed the gang that killed her family member, who healed Lung - the unrepentant sex trafficking bastard - without protest.

She heard the gasps across the room, the cursing from suddenly freaking out Nazis in the other beds, the officers rushing to contain them, the laughing from the ABB goons, as she took her hand off the goon, wearing a self satisfied smile.

"What the fuck did you do you crazy bitch!?" Nazi goon number one yelled, horrified, staring down at his hands, fruitlessly pulling at the cuffed one, looking like he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

Amy smiled innocently, eyes alight with schadenfreude. "Oh, it seems you have a genetic marker that activated erroneously when I healed your injury, it set off a pigment change. It's unfortunate, but you're healed now, so I have no reason to see to you any longer."

A skin color change isn't an injury, my work is done. She thought with amusement. Panacea didn't do cosmetic work for criminals after all.

The grizzled officer was covering his face with his hand, but Amy could see the large smirk he was hiding, not able to help himself no doubt, a criminal finally getting some just desserts right in front of him. He probably saw these kinds of guys walk in and out of jail all the time.

This time… It would probably be crueler to just release the guy onto the street… Preferably in his own neighborhood… See it from a different angle, that's karma right there.

"A thank you wouldn't be amiss." She chided the now black man, the tattoo's all dissolved as well, while the pigment of his skin changed. Perhaps she should have kept them. It would have been interesting to see a black man with those kinds of tattoos try and make a living in Brockton Bay.

Heh, make a living. Like Kaiser would allow him to walk around after this. She didn't feel an iota of remorse, a dead Nazi was the only good Nazi. It's not like he'd have an issue with beating on a black man any day of the week, so really, he shouldn't have an issue being beaten up as a black man either. Since the color of the skin was all that mattered, right?

She doubted him or his buddies would realize the deeper stupidity in racism out of this, but hey, at least she killed a Nazi without even doing much. She was already doing better work than most heroes in Brockton Bay ever did.

Dr. Martinez pulled Amy away by her sleeve as the entire room erupted in even more noise, the burly Nazi just staring down at his hands in shock as his comrades screamed threats and expletives towards Amy.

Really, how rude, she'd just healed their comrade. A bit of appreciation wouldn't be amiss, right? She flexed her fingers, smiling at the goons, wondering if she could get away with a couple more 'happy accidents'. Dr. Martinez interrupted her however.

"Panacea! What did you do!?" She whispered urgently, eyes flickering between the different officers, teeth gnawing on her lower lip nervously. "You can't just… You can't!"

Amy looked on in interest, focusing on the officers, taking a wild guess where the latina docs nervousness was stemming from. You could tell a lot by the body language of the BBPD. About half of the officers were having trouble hiding their pleasure at the change, or weren't even trying to hide it, a certain smugness there in their movements and expressions. The other half… They were pretty angry on the behalf of an Empire goon for some reason, shooting her some looks. And not the friendly kind of looks.

And wouldn't you know it. The angry half happened to be white. Coincidence, she was sure. Corrupt cops are like the lowest end of problems in Brockton Bay, sadly enough. She thought, not really caring about whether some cops had a beef with her or not. She'd have to piss off Kaiser a lot more before they'd dare touch her.

And if she was wrong..?

Well… She didn't have any compunctions on releasing some super virus cobbled up half assedly if they started aiming guns at her. After all, she'd be immune to it. Her power, like most powers, protected her from any kind of biological effect.

Far as she was concerned, she was Amy first, Amy second - and so on into infinity.

It was remarkably easy to disregard the consequences of killing when you knew they were all likely dead soon anyway. When you knew that your own death was likely in just a few years no matter what you did. Really, a perfect time to be a nihilist.

"I healed him." Amy said distractedly to Dr. Martinez, watching as a trio of officers approached her. The doctor staring helplessly at the now changed man having a quiet breakdown in his bed.

Not so tough now, huh? She thought smugly at him. Not bothering to dial down her smugness as the cops approached her.

"Panacea, you need to fix him." The oldest cop, a man with white beginning to creep up the sides of his military style cropped hair, said sternly, glaring at her with absolutely no compunctions about facing down a cape.

Then again, with her reputation, it wasn't like anyone was actually scared of her.

Yet.

Amy hummed, shaking her head, her frizzy hair falling into her face, she idly swept it out of her eyes, "I mean, I guess you could shoot him again." She mused out loud, pursing her lips. Not even bothering to hide her amusement. "Then I could heal him since he'd be injured, but right now." She smiled beatifically at the cops, "There's nothing wrong with him."

She needed a mirror stat, there was definitely something wrong with her smile, as the two younger men flinched at the sight.

"Turn. Him. Back." The cop said slowly, his two colleagues both stepping forward, looming over her at some unseen signal from the hidden Nazi cop.

Amy scoffed, even as Dr. Martinez nervously backed away, gnawing at her lip worryingly, "I don't do cosmetic work for Empire 88 lowlifes." I'll happily remove your dicks if you keep crowding me though… Amy thought, fingers twitching again, the Shaper shard must be getting off pretty hard with how much her thoughts were spiraling towards what she could change, create, destroy…

The new her wasn't nearly as limited as the depressed bundle of mental problems Amy had been.

Only the fact she'd definitely be birdcaged if she just let loose right here and now - which would ruin all her fun - prevented her from just reaching over and shaping these pricks into something more interesting.

"I could arrest you for assault with a parahuman power." The old cop threatened menacingly as Amy continued to smile pleasantly at him, unbothered. Or he attempted it anyway, he wasn't very menacing to Amy, but she was sure a regular vanilla human would be scared. Dr. Martinez certainly seemed terrified enough.

Pussy. She thought, with a scoff.

Amy gave the old cop some imaginary points in her head though, he was really good at the whole bad cop thing for normies, had all the right body language, the inflection of his voice, his looming presence, the hint of aggression in his eyes. Too bad it was aimed at her, and she couldn't give less of a crap. She tilted her head, smiling toothily, one of the cops taking a step back unconsciously at the sight. "I healed him already. I can't really do anything about him having an allergic reaction to my power, hardly assault."

She somehow got all that out with a straight face. Not even one giggle. The sour looks of the cops made it even better.

Oh, the amount of ways she could mess with people!

"He does not have an allergy to your power." Was grit out slowly by the cop, his teeth clenched together tightly, he was remarkably red in the face as well, apparently he wasn't used to not getting his way, or was just an angry man deep down. Considering he apparently either sympathized with Nazis, or was one, probably a mix of both, leaning heavily on the side of being an angry, angry, little man inside.

Amy could tell just by a glance that he had cardiovascular issues, she didn't even need a touch to diagnose it, she'd seen it enough. Not her problem though, healing everyone was past Amy, not the new and improved Amy.

She was more into healing by excising the rot…

Amy tapped her lower lip with one finger slowly, purposefully taking her time to answer, "Oh, you're also a healing cape? That's pretty awesome, I could use a hand at the hospital." She chirped brightly, fluttering her eyelashes in a coquettish way which was entirely un-Panacea like. I wonder if I can wind him up so far he'll actually arrest me?

She'd never been to jail before, a night or two in lockup might be interesting.

"What, no? I'm not a cape!?" He hissed out. Behind him Amy could see the other veteran officer approaching, having left the newly blacked Nazi thug behind with one of the junior officers. The man was actually crying. Pathetic. Just for a little pigment change… She was sure he hadn't worried about tears when he beat up minorities or a lot worse.

Truly, Amy was karma in the flesh, Brockton Bay could use a good dose of karmic retribution. Earth Bet in its entirety could to be honest. They could use alien supercomputers messing with their brain as an excuse all they wanted, they're still just all dicks.

She was one too, to be sure, but not because of any alien supercomputers. She was one all on her own. She was an honest dick.

"Then how would you know how he would, or wouldn't, react to my power?" Amy asked sweetly, having a blast with this, needling the cop further.

She'd probably get sued, which would piss Carol off.

So…

Bonus!

She idly wondered if she could somehow tailor a virus or something to change the pigment of all the Empire goons in Brockton. Probably too difficult, she acknowledged quickly, there were plenty of white people who weren't racist pieces of shit in town after all.

Still didn't stop the thought from being funny. She could imagine the horrified look on the faces of the likes of Hookwolf or Krieg.

If the PRT called her in to heal any Empire capes… She was definitely blacking them from now on!

Once you go black, you never go back! She thought, giggling inwardly, because it fit. No Empire cape or goon would go to her for healing now. Not voluntarily.

"Goodison? Is there a problem?" Came the mildly censoring voice of the grizzled officer as he walked up next to them.

"Assault with a Parahuman power, sir." Goodison said slowly, his fists clenched at his sides. "Just explaining the situation to Panacea, here."

"Assault? The medical expert said it was due to a predisposition." His eyes flickered to Amy, some humor visible in the depths.

"She's obviously lying." Goodison growled out at his colleague, a sneer twisting his visage, making the somewhat handsome older man - plain ugly.

"I'm not arresting Panacea on your superior medical knowledge, Goodison." The grizzled cop said, shaking his head, he looked towards Amy, "Are you ready to heal the rest of them?" He asked politely. Something shark-like in his smile.

A cacophony of noise erupted again as her healing was vehemently refused by everyone present, even the ABB goons apparently suddenly felt just fine. Willing to heal from their wounds the slow way rather than risk her healing.

She pouted. Meanies, it's not like she'd turn them black… There were plenty of other things she could do after all, it wouldn't do to keep things stale. Besides, it wasn't nearly as funny to turn Asian sex traffickers black… Now turning them into pretty young girls to replace the actual victims of their trade… Food for thought for the future. She smiled viciously at them, the ABB goons getting louder in their vehemence to avoid healing.

"I guess it's not needed." Amy chirped at the officers, a smug smirk on her face, Dr. Martinez looked at her like she'd seen a ghost, before she rushed off somewhere, her patients' charts clattering to the ground.

"Guess not." The veteran officer agreed, sighing in a put upon manner.

Goodison and his lackeys looked apocalyptic, but held their tongues. It was true after all, the patients were all refusing treatment. And there was nothing physically wrong with the black man sharing a room with skinheads and sex trafficking scum, so her hands were tied. Really. Cross her heart and hope to die and everything.

She's Panacea, who wouldn't trust this freckled innocent face…

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Amy waved goodbye to the goons, smiling brightly at them, "Keep me in mind for your future healing needs." She called out, barely holding in a laugh.

She walked away with a pep in her step.

Being Amy Dallon didn't have to be suffering.

She could have fun with it.

That thought lasted half an hour.

Then the Protectorate foamed her.

Obviously they hated fun.

Dicks.

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The Rig, Brockton Bay

Amy supposed she should have seen it coming. She wasn't exactly bothering with even trying to act normal. Because normal Amy was fucking depressing.

Apparently several staff members at the hospital had phoned the PRT with concerns almost immediately, which initially hadn't been taken overly serious, but that changed when Dr. Martinez reported her odd behavior and her 'healing' of the Nazi.

So now she was in M/S screening, sitting in a cell, although a nice enough one, with her own attached bathroom, a nice sized bed and a desk, a monitor built into the wall letting her watch T.V, even if she couldn't choose her own channels.

She approved of the torture methods of the PRT, because surely there could be no other reason than torture to be playing children's shows in her cell. She's sixteen. Not five.

Foaming her had been a bit excessive though in her opinion. It's not like she could have really fought back against the Protectorate. Well… Not without going to excessive lengths anyway.

Unfortunately the shows she was allowed to watch did not include the local news. She would have liked to see what the public perception of Panacea being foamed and brought into the Rig like a prisoner was like.

She was also slightly surprised Carol wasn't here already. Or if she was, she wasn't achieving much. Which again, surprising. Because she sucked as a human being, as a superhero and as a mother, but she was a decent enough lawyer. Figures she wouldn't even be able to use her only good quality.

She didn't really feel bad about her situation. At most, they could berate her for turning someone's pigment black. Good luck proving that was on purpose without another healer. And no, Othala didn't count.

She seriously doubted they'd be able to tell she was a new person, what with her still having all the memories and skills of the old one. Thinkers weren't that much bullshit. And they certainly weren't psychic.

They couldn't afford to alienate her either, so really, this entire thing was kind of… Pointless. At least she kind of got to experience what being arrested was - even if it wasn't the full experience. So that was neat.

If they really thought she was mastered or something, they'd be going at this harder. So they were likely counting on how passive original Amy had been to let all this blow over while pushing her towards the wards. Seeing the opportunity and taking it, like the dumb black and white behemoth of an organization they'd appeared like in Canon.

Good luck arguing that to Carol. Amy was a minor. She'd gladly leave that bullshit to her 'mom' because there was no way she'd shuck her into the wards anyway. She had opinions on the PRT and the Protectorate, there was a reason New Wave had tried to go their own way.

She tilted her head towards the one way window in curiosity, hearing someone on the other side albeit muffled, the window covered a whole wall of her cell, opposite her bed, it wasn't exactly a very private cell with anyone able to watch her, but she assumed that was normal for M/S screening. She could hear the speaker system turn on seconds later. So who's the lucky one that's supposed to 'reign' her back in? She wondered.

The window, which had been opaque, turned clear all of a sudden, letting her see through to the other side, showing Armsmaster on the other side, in full uniform, with Gallant at his side, also fully decked out.

Amy made a face, snorting derisively as she turned away demonstratively.

Armsmaster was literally the dumbest choice for any social fu. And to bring her sister's boyfriend in as well to 'check' her responses? That was just asking for trouble.

"Panacea. Do you have an explanation for your odd behavior earlier this evening?" Armsmaster asked clinically, no doubt scanning her with everything he had, probably already had that lie detector too, although perhaps not fully operational yet.

They weren't quite at Canon yet. Some months to go.

"I'm a teenager." Amy answered back scathingly. "If you find mood swings, being ill tempered and irritable and tired of bullshit - as odd teenage girl behavior…" She scoffed loudly, crossing her arms, eying Armsmaster with open scorn, "Then I guess we have an answer to the question of if you ever honestly talked to a girl." Yeah, bub, I just called you a virgin.

Armsmaster seemed unaffected by her diabrete, instead turning slightly towards Gallant, the silence expectant.

Gallant sighed, looking ill at ease to be included in this. For good reason too, Amy was fairly certain Vicky would lose her crap over this whole situation, especially as she'd make sure to paint herself as the innocent victim to PRT overreach and overreaction when she'd speak to her next.

"I'm not feeling anything odd from her. Irritation, anger, disgust." He hung his shoulders slightly, drooping a bit, "It's… Fairly normal for her." he tried to sound apologetic. Boy scout probably meant it too. Amy gave him the finger, uncaring of his feelings.

She'd probably end up keeping Vicky's boytoy alive as a favor, because Vicky probably was the only one that unconditionally loved her in this world. But that didn't mean she would have to like him.

"You know… I'm a minor. I've asked for my lawyer. Is this all even legal?" Amy stated to the ceiling, looking straight up, kicking her feet in the air from where she sat on the bed. They'd even taken her clothes, giving her annoyingly scratchy ones in exchange. No doubt testing her clothes as well, she briefly wondered with some scorn if Armsmaster had been brought in to scan her underwear.

She should ask him at some point. Preferably one day on the outside, with the press standing nearby.

Armsmaster nodded his head minisculely, "M/S screening has to, by design, override most of the laws you are referring to. Or it wouldn't work to contain the issue."

Amy frowned, she wasn't a law expert for all that Carol was a lawyer. But something about that seemed off. She wasn't sure Armsmaster was telling the whole truth. She eyed Gallant, who squirmed under her sudden focus.

"You're lying, or withholding information, one of the two." She said finally, turning from Gallant to Armsmaster, her eyes narrowed in accusation.

"Let's get back to your behavior." Armsmaster rolled right over her accusation without a hitch, voice still calm, "Why did you change the coloration of Gerald Larson's skin?"

Amy snorted, falling back onto her bed, arms splayed out, sure, because just ignoring my question surely means you're completely truthful, she thought sarcastically. She turned her head in their direction, "Would you believe me if I told you that he had a genetic condition that caused the change when I used my powers?" She asked with quirked lips.

"No." Armsmaster said after a momentary pause, no doubt recording everything through his armor and receiving instructions through his visor. It would explain the brief pauses.

Amy chuckled, turning back to staring up at the ceiling, "Then to your question, my answer is, no comment." She quipped.

"That is not acceptable. We need you to take this seriously, Panacea." Armsmaster said sternly, "You could be facing a charge of assault."

Gallant reluctantly spoke up again after another overbearing glance from Armsmaster. "Amy… This will go easier if you just explain, I'm sure you had a good reason, but we need to know, so they can rule out some things."

"The Gallant knight coming to the rescue." Amy drawled sarcastically, she glanced at him from out of the corner of her eye from where she was laying, "Doesn't it get tiring, Dean? To constantly force yourself to be so nice. Especially when Armsmaster is basically using you, and you're letting him, just going with the flow - who cares if it's legal or not? That's obviously not important."

"I don't have to force myself to be nice, Amy. I care, and I just want to make sure you're okay." Gallant said softly, he stopped closer to the no longer opaque window separating the cell and them, "They just need to know, then this is all over and you can go home." His voice was almost soothing, she could definitely see why Vicky went gaga about him at times. Not her type though. Way too passive.

She needed a guy or girl with balls, someone not afraid to take charge or meet her halfway at least. At least Amy hadn't come out as a lesbian yet, so she could get away with being Bi without drawing attention to more changes.

Amy snorted loudly, uncaring how it made her look, "Uh-huh, just straight home, without seeing a lawyer, without an explanation for my forced incarceration. M/S screening could be used to apply to anything."

"Amy… It is… Uncharacteristic of you to mess up while healing. People are just worried." Gallant tried again, while Armsmaster stood still like a statue next to him. Recording and picking apart everything no doubt.

With Gallant reading her every emotion and writing up a full report after this, like a bitch.

"I think you're full of shit." Amy said causticaly, not even looking at them anymore. "I show a bit of attitude and you guys foam me and put me through M/S screening. No lawyer, no phone call, no one from my family allowed in apparently, because I refuse to believe no one showed up - you don't really believe I've been mastered or something…" She scoffed, shaking her head against the sheets of her bed, "Makes me wonder what you're really after…"

Armsmaster opened his mouth to rebut her, and she just continued on, smirking nastily. "Perhaps you just saw a chance at pushing me towards the wards with some lame threat of arrest. I asked the Nazi whether he'd allow me to use my power on him, he said yes. Case closed."

"It doesn't work like that. You've endangered a man's life, we can't ignore that." Armsmaster stated, sounding a bit colder now. And was that a hint of frustration in your tone, Colin? Amy thought smugly.

"A Nazi. Are you the great defender of Nazis now, Dean?" She said glibly, focusing on the weaker link, inwardly preening at seeing him flinch. Yeah, wait until Vicky hears that one, you fuck!

So she'd keep him alive if she could, but it didn't mean she needed to work to keep him comfortable. Vicky and him could use another break up anyway.

"Don't try and deflect, Panacea. Gallant is simply here to ascertain that your emotions have not been altered, you are speaking to me." Armsmaster said with some censure, he turned towards Gallant, clippedly ordering, "You may leave, you're a distraction at the moment and you've already achieved your purpose."

Wow, blunt much, Colin? Amy thought, seeing Gallant hesitate for a moment, before he nodded slightly Amy's way, and turned to leave.

"Say hi to Vicky for me." Amy threw out nastily as a parting shot, Gallant flinching on his way out the door.

"That was unkind of you. As was your behavior at the hospital. There is a reason for our concern, Panacea." Armsmaster droned on, Amy had already lost interest really. Nothing new was likely to come up. Not until she was either let go, or Carol badgered her way in.

"An unkind teenager." Amy drawled, "Stop the presses, this is obviously more important for the Protectorate then Lung or Kaiser." She leaned forward on her elbows so she was half sitting/half lying down, eyeing the tinker. "You seriously don't have anything better to do? Either charge me or let me go."

There was a crackle to the speaker system, Armsmaster sighing visibly, but he didn't say another word. Someone else spoke up instead through the system.

"A charge for parahuman assault is already being filed by the defendant in this case." Director Piggot said seriously, taking over the conversation from Armsmaster.

Amy chuckled darkly, "So quickly, huh? Almost like the BBPD was helping him write it up…" She eyed Armsmaster, eyes glittering with distaste, "Or is that your ploy? The PRT is assisting this upstanding citizen?"

"We have not assisted him, no. That doesn't change the facts of this case. You purposely turned a white supremacist black, risking his life." Piggot said bluntly, "While also stirring up trouble in the entire city as your previously trusted healing now comes into doubt."

Panacea had been somewhat of a boon for the city as a whole, she knew. Injuries to heroes and civilians and even the villains to a certain extent - disappearing overnight due to her efforts.

Now, that healing wouldn't be as trusted. Such a loss for me, really. She thought sarcastically.

Amy flopped back down on the bed, a wry smile on her face, "Purposely? That's been proven when? I don't remember saying that?" She needled lightly.

"Do not take me for a fool, Panacea." Piggot said coldly, "I don't care for your reasons on why you did it, I only care about the consequences thereof."

"The Wards program would insulate you from these kinds of charges, the PRT backing you would ensure they would amount to, at the most, a fine." Armsmaster interjected, sounding oddly insistent for him. It was weird, it wasn't like his reputation would really change from her being recruited. What glory was there to find there?

"Minor, remember. You're not getting that one past my mother." Amy said, making a face at having to acknowledge Carol as her parent.

"There are ways to induct minors in trouble with the law even without parental approval - in special cases." Director Piggot said shortly, "You would do well to think on that, this charge will not go away easily, and the reception you'll find in the bay as a criminal will not be pleasant." She warned, Armsmaster nodding along stiffly when Amy glanced over, although he looked slightly uncomfortable.

Probably because of all the lying he's ordered to go along with… Or so she assumed, because no way was that shit legal. Press ganging a minor into the wards without parental approval wouldn't fly in court. If they were an orphan, maybe…

Huh, how legal were the adoption papers for her? Could she technically be considered an orphan if that got unraveled?

"You aren't actually serious? You're trying to make me a ward. Behind New Waves back? Oh… This is hilarious." Amy said, a smile slowly growing on her face, discarding the thought of her adoption papers, it was unlikely to get that far anyway.

She knew Piggot, Armsmaster and the PRT always shot themselves in the foot in canon, but she hadn't expected that reality would quite match that. Either outright lying or telling half truths to sucker her.

Really, how did they see this ending? Was getting Panacea as a Ward, really worth pissing off all of New Wave? She'd been healing their asses either way, so what was the difference? PR?

"It's not a laughing matter, this is a serious charge, you'd do well to consider your options, Panacea. You're held to a high standard due to your ability, the backlash of you being charged with assault will be fierce…" Piggot said, almost cajoling, trying to sound less strict, but largely failing.

Probably because of how much of a bitch she was. She couldn't quite hide all that hatred.

"Good luck making that charge stick." Amy said uncaringly, silence following her statement. She was probably ruining their script. Their belief in how this conversation would play out. Poor them, how terrible for the people that would rather sit and bother her then go out and save some sex slaves.

"Assault with a Parahuman power is no joking matter. The sentence would likely include jail time." Piggot said darkly, trying to press the issue.

Panacea snickered, "Sure. Put me in jail." She said easily, playing with her hair with one hand, entwining strands between her fingers.

Silence deafened the room again as both Piggot and Armsmaster seemed unsure of what to say, her nonchalance completely throwing them off.

"I mean, I'll still do great in jail, I can heal people in exchange for being top bitch in the cellblock." She said flippantly, before she snickered again, "You guys though…. Panacea in jail for healing a Nazi wrong, my healing no longer on tap for the public… Oh, I'll be smiling in my little cell while the PRT gets chased out of Brockton Bay."

She looked up at the ceiling, a nasty smirk on her face, "You see, Director Piggot, you have the situation all wrong. You're not the guys in power in this situation. I am, because given the choice of me or you, most people will choose the one that can heal cancer."

Oh, they wouldn't chase them out of town, not exactly. They'd still need the PRT and Protectorate. But they could chase the one in charge out of town.

No doubt Coil was already rubbing his pervy mitts together salivating over how bad he could make Piggot look over this.

"This behavior is exactly why you are undergoing M/S screening. It is out of character." Armsmaster said suddenly, his tone sure and steady.

Amy smiled sweetly at him, "No, it's the attitude of a bitch no longer giving any fucks, there's a difference."

Apparently they had no answer to that. Or had finally realized they couldn't get anywhere with her. One of the two.

"Now fuck off and let me get my beauty sleep, I need at least eight hours of rest so I can sue you in the morning for attempting to harass a minor into the wards with threats and heavy handed antics, I'm sure you've broken some kind of law by locking me up here without a guardian, lawyer, or Youth Guard or something."

Again the telling silence spoke volumes.

They didn't bother her further that night.

----------------------------------------

PRT headquarters, Wards common room.

"So… Is she mastered?" Sophia asked loudly, the second that Gallant walked in the door.

She was bored out of her mind, forced into console duty in between her mandatory classes on a bunch of moronic rules that hamstrung the heroes. No wonder the town was shit, the rules basically said they had to suck villains off before asking them if they could arrest them…

She hadn't been in a good mood ever since being forced to join these chumps, Panacea's capture being the only interesting thing to have happened - hence her slight interest.

"Stalker!" Triumph said warningly. Sophia simply scoffed at him, leaning back in her seat at the console, still staring challengingly at Gallant, everyone else had their mask off, but she wasn't as comfortable yet. Mostly, she was still plotting avenues of escape, trying to figure out a way to return to being a vigilante, so she didn't want to unmask to these losers.

Even if the PRT already knew her identity, there was no point in her being loose with it.

She'd barely been part of the Wards for a few weeks, and she was already doing her best at making the whole process into a headache. Because if she had to suffer through this - these fucks sure as hell was going to pay as well.

"To be fair, asking if Panacea is mastered is a pretty important question right now…" Clockblocker said, ignoring the dirty look he received from Vista.

Gallant sighed, shaking his head morosely, "She doesn't appear to be… But she's definitely… Irritable." He said diplomatically, sinking down onto the couch, next to Vista and Clockblocker.

Clockblocker snorted, sounding amused. "I'd be pretty annoyed too if I was walking around the hospital and suddenly got a foam grenade to the face."

"Did she really do it?" Sophia demanded of Gallant. Glaring at the boy scout, even if the effect was somewhat diminished due to her still wearing her mask. "Did she purposefully turn a Nazi black?"

Everyone's eyes turned to Gallant, who slumped into the couch, seemingly reluctant to answer.

Sophia didn't care for any societal niceties, bluntly pushing, "Fucking simple question beam boy, yes or no?"

"Stalker… We don't talk to teammates like this. Aren't you doing sensitivity classes already?" Triumph said warningly, even as Vista turned her head to glare at Sophia.

She couldn't care less, bunch of fucking losers all of them, they wouldn't know what to do facing a rapist or a murderer, they'd probably go hide while calling on mommy Militia or something. Fucking useless. All of them were too passive. Reactive. Only willing to move once the villains have already hit.

And fuck sensitivity classes, she was almost ready to turn to villainy just to get out of that pile of garbage. The PRT wanted to defend criminals' feelings and rights. Fuck had she been brought into, team teletubbies?

"Teammates usually answer questions too, right?" Sophia growled out to Triumph challengingly, because she wasn't going to take all the shit for the pretty boy keeping his mouth shut. That shit ain't teammate behavior either.

"Jesus Stalker, dial down the bitch mode just a little!" Clockblocker said, sounding exasperated.

"Clock…" Triumph sighed out, rubbing his face, "Everyone, just… Get along. The day is almost over."

Sophia had no idea how he was the leader of the Wards. Like everyone else here, he had no spine. No killer instinct.

"Yes… It's true." Gallant interjected, finally answering her question. "She pretty much admitted it."

"Wouldn't have expected that from her." Vista said quietly, looking ill at ease.

Sophia touched her crossbows briefly, even if they were neutered now with ridiculous 'safe' bolts, her mind whirling with thoughts on Panacea, maybe she'd understand how Sophia thought, she certainly fucked that Nazi up. Sophia could definitely see the amusement in what she'd done. She grinned darkly underneath her mask as the Wards argued about the issue. Finally, someone else takes it to the bastards…

She eyes the console consideringly, this shit is boring as all hell… I'm basically on probation anyway, not gonna matter if I get in shit right now, what are they gonna do? Make me do more lame ass shit? They won't allow me to patrol anyway…

Her mind made up, she stood up, pushing the chair back, drawing attention from the rest of them as she walked towards the exit.

"Stalker, where are you going, you're on console duty." Triumph asked, half rising from his seat.

She scoffed, flinging a hand towards Clockblocker, "So's that loser, don't see him sitting at the console, so fucking give me a break, I got my period, going to deal with that, wanna fucking assist? Team lead?" She mocked.

Triumph slumped down in the chair, clearing his throat awkwardly, "No, that's alright, Clock can take over until you get back." He said lamely.

Vista was eyeing her suspiciously, but Sophia couldn't care less, the girl didn't have the guts to confront her, maybe if she did, she could actually grow to like her.

Clockblocker got up to replace her, as she neared the exit, whining, "Man, Aegis and Kid Win need to finish patrol soon, I don't want to get stuck at the console!"

She slipped out of the room, going into her breaker state once she entered the bathroom, the one place she was sure had no cameras. Minutes later she was outside, making her way over rooftops. She was registered in the system already, so she should be able to get into the Rig, then it was just a matter of using her breaker state to slip through the cracks of surveillance and make her way down to Panacea's cell.

She was curious, and fucking bored. She wanted to know if maybe the girl was like her, sick and tired of how shit Brockton Bay was, and willing to actually do something about it.

Unlike the other so-called heroes.

----------------------------------------

Amy sighed explosively, hearing someone turn the window to her cell clear again, and she'd just been about to go to sleep too. It had been hours since Armsmaster had left, but she'd had trouble falling asleep, knowing people were likely watching her.

She wondered if Armsmaster was up her ass because Piggot was up his, or if he felt he needed to project leadership since taking over a few months ago when Challenger was killed in an Endbringer fight, he hadn't actually achieved anything since taking over after all. Either way the man was annoyingly competent and way too likely to spot inconsistencies in her behavior if he studied her long enough.

She'd have to play up the bitch be tired of being a doormat angle…

"You just love perving on a teenage girl getting ready for bed, don't you?" She grouched out loud, sitting up in her bed, clad only in a t-shirt and panties. Thankfully no Armsmaster brand ones.

Actually… That could have been funny, just for the look on his face.

She would have liked to wear more to cover up from the camera's and the perverts watching through them, but she just couldn't sleep with something covering her legs, she never could. A difference between her and the original, but hardly one the PRT would notice.

She hoped. Or they had way more knowledge of her homelife then she was comfortable with.

"You got nothing special." Came a sharp snort that made Amy glance over at the screen in curiosity. Because what!?

Shadow Stalker of all people was paying her a visit. She didn't even know she was a ward yet. And either way… She seriously doubted it was because she was allowed to be here. "Well…" Amy said slowly, before beginning to fluff her pillows, making herself comfortable, leaning back and up against them in a seated position. She waved a hand imperiously when she was done, "They've definitely changed their recruitment angle, I approve. A stripper giving me a show sure beats Armsmaster trying - and failing - to emote."

Was Amy an absolutely incorrigible little shit? Yes, yes she was. Besides, it was Shadow Stalker, it was practically a requirement to mess with her. No one liked her.

She kind of did. But that was because she was a bitch, so she identified with her easier. Bitches united or something.

Also she was hot. That helped a lot. She was also like 15, but she was 16 so it was okay. Or was she 17? Stupid fake adoption papers.

Shadow Stalker snorted, crossing her arms, as she leaned up against the window, having to stand sideways to pull it off, all in an attempt to look cool. "You couldn't afford me."

Amy grinned delightedly, what was this? A Shadow Stalker that didn't quite have a telephone pole up her ass yet? "Oh… I don't know…" She said coyly, "I could tune you up, you know, greater strength, healing, roided up immune system, subdermal armor, the whole nine yards… All for the low cost of you strutting your stuff…"

She knew she was likely being recorded. She just didn't care. Her being a biokinetic wasn't going to surprise anyone that had any sense. She still had a good reputation, the PRT couldn't afford to lock her up and throw away the key.

Not at this point. Besides… She had all the Cauldron deets to get herself out of that hole if it came to it.

Shadow Stalker actually laughed at that, it was short, harsh and cold, but it was a laugh. "Fuck, I'm tempted." She said slowly afterwards, tapping the window between them with one finger, "Didn't know you could pull off all that shit, though. Been sandbagging?" She queried sounding honestly curious.

Amy shrugged, faking nonchalance, "I had delusions of normalcy, until I woke up and realized we're all monsters, some of us just hide it better." She raised an eyebrow, a smug little smirk on her face, "Thought you were an independent? What happened? Couldn't hide the monster well enough?" She asked playfully.

"Something like that." Shadow Stalker said, seemingly thinking about something, her head tilted as she studied Amy. "The dude you turned black… Why did you do it?" She asked bluntly.

Considering one of her hands was almost caressing a crossbow handle in its harness, Amy had a fair idea why Shadow Stalker cared to ask. Amy could feel the vigilante turned Ward's burning gaze, even through her hood and her stern faced woman's mask, but in the end Amy just snorted, shaking her head in denial, "Not saying that for the peeping tom's to hear."

Shadow Stalker waved a dismissive hand, "I turned all that shit off before I got here." The way she held her body, and the proud way she said that. Was Shadow Stalker bragging to her? How cute!

Amy smirked, getting out of bed, her bare feet smacking against the cold floor, "Oh, someone's being naughty." She teased, walking up to the window slowly, standing close to it, having to look up slightly to face Shadow Stalker's mask, due to her own lack of height. "You'll get in trouble for that one, Stalker." She warned, not really caring, but feeling interested in what brought this on.

She'd already changed things. And she'd barely done anything.

Shadow Stalker gave her a once over, her gaze unfortunately not lingering on Amy's bare legs or panty clad bottom, disappointing. Amy thought with a pout. "Well, since you're not as ridiculous about the reality of Brockton Bay as the people in this building usually are… I guess I can tell you." Amy said, tossing her hair slightly as she pushed right up to the glass, her nose almost touching it.

"I did it because it was fun! Because he deserves to be beaten to death like he'd no doubt done to others. I did it because he was a Nazi and I was tired of giving them a free pass." Amy said with relish, a thrill running through her at admitting it. The real reason she'd done it. Because she had power, and he didn't. And she'd wanted to use it. Just a taste. A tiny little taste.

Shadow Stalker raised her hands up, taking her mask off, a pretty smirk on her face as she came face to face with her, "Name's Sophia Hess, I always thought you were kind of a pussy, from what I'd heard, but you're alright with me, anyone willing to give it to the Nazis are."

Amy was kind of amazed it was that easy to get the girl to unmask, usually everyone made such a big deal about hidden identities from what she remembered. Was it really such a big deal to her that Amy had gone after a Nazi?

"Too bad they won't let me heal Hookwolf or someone like that, if they're brought in now." Amy said casually, with a disturbing grin on her face, "He'd definitely deserve to be blacked." She backed up a bit and blew Sophia a kiss, winking at her, "Nice to meet you Sophia." She purred.

At least Sophia didn't seem squicked out at her smiles like everyone else did.

Sophia's smirk widened as she loosened her stance, seemingly less tense, "I'm not into chicks, even though your other offer is tempting… I could always use more ways to kick ass." She barked out a laugh, shaking her head, pulling her hood fully off, "Blacked! I like it. Planning on 'Blacking' any other Empire filth?" She asked eagerly, fists clenching at her side, the leather gloves creaking slightly.

Amy pouted, Sophia Hess was absolutely gorgeous, unfairly so. Yeah, she was all hard edges, but that runner's body was working really well for her. And it's not like Amy really gave a shit about canon either, so all that bullying? Not really her problem. Taylor was a character from a story, a really depressing character too, she really didn't care about what happened there. "I'd prefer to do worse…" She whispered out, making a shushing motion, winking again.

Sophia hummed in thought, her eyes sharp and assessing. "You mean that too, huh, I really got you all pegged wrong. They all have, hah!" She shook her head mirthfully, "That's going to make life interesting ain't it?"

"You could always let me out… You're already going to be in trouble as is." Amy needled, smirking challengingly.

Sophia scoffed, "You're Panacea, you'll be out soon enough. I'll get grounded to the console for this as is, and my introduction might get pushed up, but who cares about that bullshit? If I let you out though, I'll be in a cell next, a real cell."

Considering she'd stuck around in the Wards who she obviously disliked and constantly cheated on with unsanctioned patrols, all to get away from juvie - it made sense she wouldn't risk it right now either. Amy was just playing either way, she wasn't actually in a rush, no matter what she projected towards the PRT.

"Fair enough, but maybe when you're off the leash… You could show me a thing or two about being a vigilante?" Amy asked, figuring Sophia might actually know a thing or two about where the goons hung out, saving her the time to track test subjects down.

Sophia twitched irritably, "Don't call it that!" She snapped, "No one leashes Shadow Stalker!" At Amy's deadpanned look, she just breathed out of her nose harshly, muttering something under her breath. "Fine, I don't mind, you're not as naive as the Wards at least." She said trying to play it off as casual, but there was a thread of excitement in her voice.

"Aww, am I your only friend, Shadow Stalker." Amy cooed, putting a hand to her own cheek and smiling mockingly.

"I can get in there and punch you in the face without even opening the door." Sophia said warningly, her eyes sparkling with something dangerous, yet friendly at the same time.

Amy smirked, making a come at me gesture, "Try it, let's see how cocky you are after I give you a cock for the effort!" She threatened lightly.

Sophia paused, jaw dropping slightly, "You can do that!?" She hissed out, incredulously.

Amy nodded, giving Sophia a half lidded look, a devilish smirk playing on her lips, "Sounds like someone's ~interested!"

"Oh fuck you bitch!" Sophia snorted, opening her mouth again, only to be interrupted by blaring alarms erupting around the building.

"Looks like they finally realized you turned off all their recording equipment. That's… Really slow. Bad look for the PRT." Amy said, shaking her head. She smiled at Sophia, "Get out of here while you still can, maybe they won't even realize it was you."

At least it answered something for Amy… They didn't have people watching her 24/7 creepily, or the alarm would have gone off way sooner.

Or… They'd let Sophia think she'd turned everything off, and was actually watching the entire time, and was only interrupting now because they were reaching dangerous territory, talking about escaping and the like.

Sophia scoffed, turning into her shadowy breaker form to ghost through the window, her shadowy form finding itself at Amy's desk, Sophia reappearing a second later, seated on the chair, calm as can be. "I'd rather own it." She admitted, "Besides," She said with a smug little smirk, "M/S screening will be better than console duty with fucking Clockblocker." Her lips twisted into a disgusted grimace, "Or sensitivity training."

"You're such a bitch." Amy said, lips twitching, "I think we'll get along just fine, I think you're overdressed though…" She gestured to her own state of dress, her eyes roaming over Sophia's tight uniform. She wasn't sure exactly why heroes went for skintight bodysuits, but she approved.

"Still not going to fuck you, I ain't interested." Sophia said casually, her eyes sliding towards her, a teasing glint in them.

"Can't blame a girl for trying." Amy sighed, there were far too few bi or lesbian heroes in Brockton Bay.

"Shadow Stalker! Explain yourself!" Came over the speakers, at the same time as several PRT troopers and Assault entered the 'safe' side of the room.

"... I think she mastered me or some shit." Sophia said, pointing at Amy with a shit eating smirk on her face. "It's definitely her fault I'm here."

"You colossal bitch!" Amy laughed, she couldn't help it, here she was being purposefully difficult to annoy the PRT and the Protectorate and confound their thinkers - and Shadow Stalker outdid her in just a few minutes.

Now she was definitely going to be locked up long enough to cause a stir.

----------------------------------------

Assistant Director Renick's office, The Rig.

Carol Dallon was not afraid to admit she despised the PRT on a good day, today was markedly not a good day.

A holier than thou attitude and zero accountability, did not make for a good organization to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. And the PRT encapsulated the worst of such attitudes.

She was sitting in the assistant Director's office, likely because Piggot and Armsmaster had delegated the task of dealing with a pissed off Brandish, she thought angrily, huffing in the empty office, full uniform on for the first time in what felt like ages.

And she was beyond angry. Angry at Amy for doing something so utterly foolish, risking the entire brand of New Wave for a prank that might end in a man's death. At least she hoped it was a prank, the other option was much worse.

She privately admitted she didn't much care if the Empire 88 cretin was killed by his own ilk, but as heroes they could not fall so low as to actually do something like that. And Amy, as Panacea, had broken trust - harmed when she promised healing.

So yes, Brandish was angry. But she'd half expected something like this at some point, so the anger was chilled, cooled by the feeling she'd been vindicated.

What turned that cold anger into a firestorm was the PRT daring to attack Panacea, using con-foam grenades at the hospital, and refusing to allow her representation or the attendance of a guardian until she'd passed M/S screening.

A load of bull, the law didn't work like that. Brandish would know, and Amy should have known, if she ever paid attention to her. Even with the specter of M/S screening one could not just nab minors off the street and hold them.

If the PRT held that power, they could simply lock up and interrogate anyone they wanted under the aegis of - they were acting odd so they might have been mastered.

The PRT had that power specifically for the PRT and Protectorate personnel. People that had signed on the dotted lines in their contracts that they could be forced into M/S screening at any time and had no right to refuse.

That did not extend to independent capes. It did not matter to New Wave. And the PRT knew this. Which told Brandish they were playing games, because they knew they'd be sued for this, and yet they went ahead anyway, willing to take the monetary hit for whatever goal.

There weren't many reasons to hold Panacea… And Brandish would not allow her to become a Ward, she would not allow Amy to lose all sense of responsibility, to lose her head under the PR umbrella of the PRT and Protectorate. She'd worked too hard to ensure Amy didn't fall victim to her own heritage. The PRT and their lack of accountability would just send Amy spiraling into villainy.

Assistant Director Renick looked tired and apologetic when he finally arrived, rushing through the door in a rumpled suit that indicated he'd been called in from home due to this incident. "My sincerest apologies, Brandish, there were some complications I needed to be filled in on before we could meet."

She stared at him coldly, "Complications enough to keep a parent from her minor child for hours, Renick?"

Renick slumped down into his seat, "Yes, actually." He said tiredly, "How much are you aware of in regards to the incident stemming from your daughter's stay with us?"

Brandish wanted to quibble on the simplification of the wording for Amy's illegal incarceration - but she'd already waited long enough, so she powered forward, "She gave a Nazi enforcer black skin." She said stiffly, before staring at the assistant Director with a thin lipped frown. "Then you violently overreacted and assaulted her."

"Velocity may have reacted a tad overzealously to the call, but we did have reason to believe something was going on." Renick said with a note of apology in his tone.

Before Brandish could snap at him, he raised a hand asking for a moment, taking a picture out of a file folder and sliding it across the desk. "This was taken before the incident, and was the first sign of something off, which, compounded with the calls we'd receive later, necessitated a quick response."

Brandish glanced down at the picture and froze, it was Amy, out of uniform, standing precariously on the ledge of the roof of the hospital. The smoke in her hand became secondary (although would not be forgotten) to the fact the picture painted something much worse. "Who took this?" She asked, feeling safer to concentrate on a potential stalker than what the picture could mean.

"A cape enthusiast." Renick said simply, offering no further information, he sighed, rubbing his face wearily, "Not only did several people after that call the PRT to report their belief that Panacea had been either mastered or had something bad happen to her - but then we had the incident with a Mr. Larson as well. It was the decision of the PRT and Protectorate agents on shift to not take any chances with Panacea and ensure her safety immediately."

Brandish reluctantly agreed, although she wouldn't say it. She still intended to sue, although now she was more likely to settle. She looked down at the picture again, and at the odd smile clearly visible on Amy's face as she stood inches away from death. "Has she been mastered?" She forced herself to ask.

Renick grimaced, slowly shaking his head, "Gallant reported everything was normal with her emotions, and we've tested her extensively, there is no biological sign of any alteration, no emotional alteration, and Armsmaster can find no sign of radiation or technological effects - yet the screening is likely to last days to make sure she doesn't change rapidly."

Brandish nodded, feeling off kilter, forced to agree with the PRT like this. "You should have still allowed me to see her, and to represent her before any interview." She snapped, refusing to be on the backfoot any longer in this conversation. "You broke the law by refusing her this. I know Amy wouldn't have waived her right to an attorney." Her eyes narrowed, "And either way she is a minor, so it wouldn't matter, you should have allowed me to be there."

"I'll let the Director or legal department answer those questions." Renick answered, showing his true colors by pushing the matter aside, refusing to accept responsibility. "There is the matter of… The other complications…"

"What complications?" Brandish ground out, an eye twitching in irritation.

"Shadow Stalker somehow got into her cell, afterwards claiming Panacea mastered her in an apparent attempt to get out of punishment. We say apparently, because now we have more tests to run to make sure…" Renick said, sounding as done about things as Brandish was feeling.

"Is that all?" Brandish said with some bitterness, "You allowed a new Ward, not yet introduced to the public, to breach M/S containment, to muddle the inquiry into my daughter, and the spoiled brat is refusing to take responsibility - what a surprise." She glared at Renick, knowing he's just the sacrificial lamb, "Anything else you've screwed up about this entire situation?" She snapped harshly.

Renick visibly winced. "Ah… Panacea refused to let Shadow Stalker go to a separate cell, to the point of promising to attack anyone entering to remove her. She also offered the Director a deal… She promised not to sue or cause other complications during her screening, if she could ride out the M/S screening with Shadow Stalker 'to entertain her'.

Brandish stared at the assistant Director in incredulity, "That defeats entirely the purpose of the screening!" She growled, "Tell me you've separated the two!" She demanded shrilly.

Renick's wince was far more substantial this time, "The Director agreed, she felt there wasn't any other good outcome possible from entering with force."

"Why on earth would Amy do this?" Brandish muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief.

Renick obviously heard, and misconstrued it as a question for himself, answering immediately, "Ah, I believe I'm quoting here, 'I want to get into Shadow Stalker's panties and because of that I need some alone time with her to succeed in seducing her.' I believe those were her exact words…" Renick looked physically pained at having to repeat them, the older man obviously not comfortable dealing with teenagers.

Brandish slumped in her chair, it was hard to argue about M/S screening at this point. What on earth are you thinking Amy!?

Renick hesitated for a moment, wetting his lips, "And… There's also another matter…"

Brandish closed her eyes, resigned to it, "What else? What can possibly top this already?"

"Were you aware that your daughter was a biokinetic more reminiscent of the likes of Bonesaw or Nilbog? She's being quite free with the information on it in our recordings, which goes far beyond the power ratings we have on file, the ones New Wave provided us…" Renick asked carefully.

Brandish knew now why Piggot wasn't here. She was likely at this moment screeching at the Chief Director for permission to Birdcage our outright kill Amy. The bigoted Director was hard enough to deal with on a normal day with her obvious suspicion and distaste of capes - a biokinetic would have her screaming bloody murder.

Brandish knew her ties to Nilbog weren't common knowledge - but she was one of the few in Brockton Bay who had that information. Piggot would not let this go. Was literally incapable of it.

Brandish had known this day would come, when something like this would happen, had planned for it even, but not like this, not with Amy… What on earth was she doing announcing it? Is she trying to get herself killed? Her mind flashed to the picture again, of Amy standing at the edge of the rooftop. She squared her shoulders, while gritting her teeth harshly, preparing herself for the fight of her life.

She would not let the PRT do as they wished. Not as long as Amy was still a member of New Wave in the public's eye.

Her eyes narrowed minutely as she glared at the assistant Director, "As far as you know, she isn't one." She said clippedly. "Anything said under an illegal arrest and with an illegal incarceration, with an illegal recording of a minor that has been refused legal counsel or parental access - will be thrown out of any court. It might as well not exist."

"It's not that simple." Renick said slowly, shaking his head, "That kind of power… It has… Connotations."

"What kind of power? Like I said, nothing that has happened today since you arrested my daughter, legally exists." Brandish said bitingly, clenching her fists to keep herself from doing anything rash, her emotions running too strongly due to her combined dislike for the PRT and for Amy.

What an irony that she's forced to defend Amy when she'd finally show her true colors and could, with some careful work, be cut loose without consequences to the team. She would not let the PRT turn this around on New Wave however.

She would not let this be a feather in their cap, would not let New Wave take the brunt of the fallout.

"Brandish, this can't be put back, the genie is out of the bottle." Renick said, trying to reason with her.

"Try me!" She snapped back.

Everything only went downhill from there.