she doesn't know who told her. just information digested before she could understand it. didn't know if it said i got beat up for your dad or ben got beat up for your dad or some other wild variation. only that SOMEONE is looking for the professor , and they're fucking stupid enough to try violence.
the east coast doesn't get it. why the fuck would they ? the powerpuff girls are some halfway distant ideal , heroes this side of the public rarely interacts with because they do their goddamn jobs. their villains don't become GLOBAL threats , so no one has to fucking think about them if they don't want to. on this side of the country , her dad is the famous one — the biochemist who created life. complex , multicellular , powerful life. and even that is only really popular in the nerdy circles. most people know who he is the way people know who alexander graham bell is.
they certainly don't go through secret , undercover avenues and beat people up to get ahold of him. definitely don't beat up heroes to get his attention.
she didn't bother to get more information over text. there wasn't a linear thought in her brain for that. she's HERE in fucking new york less than a minute after getting that text — cellphone destroyed by the speed , hair wild , eyes glowing.
“ talk , ” she orders. ben knows her too goddamn well to ask for clarification she hopes. she doesn't think she can hold herself together for that. the SMART thing to do would be to smoke out the fucker. gather intelligence quietly and prepare. what she wants to do is tear the entire city apart shithole by shithole until whoever is targeting her father knows she's coming for them. knows they can't save themselves.
