The Punisher

Her entire body hurt. From the dull aches of her shoulders and knees, to the gash on her side. The bulletproof vest did it's job, but it wasn't made for knives. So of course when her opponent tried to stab her against a wall, all she could do is redirect it to a less critical spot.

She reeks of blood and gunpowder, the white symbol on her chest dotted with red. Her hair is still up in a braid she did almost a full day prior, somehow.

She slams the door closed with a kick of her foot and raises her head to do a quick scan of the room.

Something is off. The smell is different. Very familiar, but not hers. Nothing is in the same place. Hell, even the furniture is different.

This isn't her apartment.

But how? Her key worked to get in here. She made sure she's in the right building and floor.

She doesn't have time to think very much about that as she continues to stumble through the apartment, almost getting to the couch before kneeling down slowly. She wasn't even going to make it to the couch, but she could at least not fall.

@thelisacastle

Frank wasn't planning on doing anything superhero today, he was just gonna grab coffee, watch that movie someone made about him, and finish fixing the stove

He was trying to fix said stove when the door opened. Jumping to his feet and grabbing the M1911 from his belt he crept his way into the living room before pausing.

The sight of the woman on his floor was shocking to say the very least.

The woman seemed vaguely familiar. The costume was similar to his.

He moved his finger from the trigger and uncocked the hammer.

"Can I help ya?" He said stepping slightly closer.

The footsteps were quiet, but still audible enough for her. She leans over, planting one hand on the ground and another on her side. The soft click of a hammer tells her that whoever was there has a gun.

She lets out a soft groan, lifting up her head to look at the true owner of this apartment.

Her usually furrowed brows widen, her mouth dropping slightly in visible shock. No wonder why the smell was so familiar.

"... Explain. Now."

He said, his finger twitched slightly, this couldn't be her. It couldn't be.

She was gone.

"What.. is there to explain?" She glances down for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts through the pain she's in.

Her entire body hurt. From the dull aches of her shoulders and knees, to the gash on her side. The bulletproof vest did it's job, but it wasn't made for knives. So of course when her opponent tried to stab her against a wall, all she could do is redirect it to a less critical spot.

She reeks of blood and gunpowder, the white symbol on her chest dotted with red. Her hair is still up in a braid she did almost a full day prior, somehow.

She slams the door closed with a kick of her foot and raises her head to do a quick scan of the room.

Something is off. The smell is different. Very familiar, but not hers. Nothing is in the same place. Hell, even the furniture is different.

This isn't her apartment.

But how? Her key worked to get in here. She made sure she's in the right building and floor.

She doesn't have time to think very much about that as she continues to stumble through the apartment, almost getting to the couch before kneeling down slowly. She wasn't even going to make it to the couch, but she could at least not fall.

@thelisacastle

Frank wasn't planning on doing anything superhero today, he was just gonna grab coffee, watch that movie someone made about him, and finish fixing the stove

He was trying to fix said stove when the door opened. Jumping to his feet and grabbing the M1911 from his belt he crept his way into the living room before pausing.

The sight of the woman on his floor was shocking to say the very least.

The woman seemed vaguely familiar. The costume was similar to his.

He moved his finger from the trigger and uncocked the hammer.

"Can I help ya?" He said stepping slightly closer.

The footsteps were quiet, but still audible enough for her. She leans over, planting one hand on the ground and another on her side. The soft click of a hammer tells her that whoever was there has a gun.

She lets out a soft groan, lifting up her head to look at the true owner of this apartment.

Her usually furrowed brows widen, her mouth dropping slightly in visible shock. No wonder why the smell was so familiar.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

MJ's sneakers skid on the tarpaper of the roof as she stops and puts her hands up. Her black hoodie creeps up over the waistband of her black maternity leggings, showing off her bump.

"Don't shoot, please, I'm unarmed. I was just, uh, doing some reconnaissance...crap."

At the red haired lady's words the woman furrows her brows.

MJ relaxes her hands, still keeping them open like she would for an unknown dog.

"It's, uh, just on the building..." She taps her tennis shoe on the roof. "I'm trying to buy this place. The current owner is dragging their feet...I wanted to see if I can find any leverage to light a fire under them."

She shrugs, smiling almost apologetically.

"Yeah..." she says slowly, not tearing her eyes away from the other woman.

"Uh-huh...." She sucks in a short breath.

"Y'know, that just doesn't make much sense. None of this does. If you wanted some sort of dirt on the owner, there's plenty online. You just gotta know where to look, which by the looks of it, you do. No normal pregnant lady would somehow come out here at this specific time in the night and climb all the escape ladders on this building just to try and find something on this guy in the name of 'recon'." She stares at the other for a moment.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

MJ's sneakers skid on the tarpaper of the roof as she stops and puts her hands up. Her black hoodie creeps up over the waistband of her black maternity leggings, showing off her bump.

"Don't shoot, please, I'm unarmed. I was just, uh, doing some reconnaissance...crap."

At the red haired lady's words the woman furrows her brows.

MJ relaxes her hands, still keeping them open like she would for an unknown dog.

"It's, uh, just on the building..." She taps her tennis shoe on the roof. "I'm trying to buy this place. The current owner is dragging their feet...I wanted to see if I can find any leverage to light a fire under them."

She shrugs, smiling almost apologetically.

"Yeah..." she says slowly, not tearing her eyes away from the other woman.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

MJ's sneakers skid on the tarpaper of the roof as she stops and puts her hands up. Her black hoodie creeps up over the waistband of her black maternity leggings, showing off her bump.

"Don't shoot, please, I'm unarmed. I was just, uh, doing some reconnaissance...crap."

At the red haired lady's words the woman furrows her brows.

MJ relaxes her hands, still keeping them open like she would for an unknown dog.

"It's, uh, just on the building..." She taps her tennis shoe on the roof. "I'm trying to buy this place. The current owner is dragging their feet...I wanted to see if I can find any leverage to light a fire under them."

She shrugs, smiling almost apologetically.

"Yeah..." she says slowly, not tearing her eyes away from the other woman.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

She wasn't supposed to be in the area, but she had been going out at night to talk to her contacts on the street about what had happened with the Hole. Trying to dig up anything on how or why it had happened.

Instead tonight she stumbled on what appeared to be an assassination attempt.

Adrenaline floods her system and her hand starts to go to her purse, but she freezes at the sight of the handgun in the woman's hand. She raises her hands, palms out, to show they're empty.

She should leave. The smart thing to do would be to leave. But then if she did, someone was going to die tonight. She couldn't let that happen.

"Mistakes? Lady what are you talkin' about? You think I'm doin' this for a personal grudge?" She shakes her head.

She took another step forward, bringing her closer to the young woman. There was something strikingly familiar in her face, in the way she turned her head slightly with narrowed eyes when she regarded Karen incredulously. Something about it made Karen's heart thud in her chest for a reason she couldn't figure out, but she knew she had to try to help the woman.

"I do have permits, but this one ain't registered." She shrugs.

At the blonde lady taking a confident step towards her, she stiffens slightly. She raises the gun in her hands ever so slightly.

"He's been prosecuted. He did time, and he's still doing bad shit. Nobody is making me do anything. I've chosen to take this guy out myself." The woman scoots back a bit, making some more space.

"That so? Then I think I'm done talking," Karen muttered, and then she moved.

She didn't have enhanced reflexes, but she was fast. It only took two steps to get within arms length of the young woman, and then both Karen's hands shot up to grab the front of the woman's coat.

The woman was fast and confident, but she was too. When the blonde lady reaches out, she scrunches up her body, moving her knees to her chest and her feet more up.

And as soon as the blonde woman gets close enough... she plants her feet on the woman's hips. It's not a kick, but rather a block to create space.

Then the crackles. Her eyes widen as she sees electricity coming from the woman's hands.

She is cool and collected in a fight. She has training and a fast reaction time.

The foot to her hip drives Karen back a pace. She holds up her hands in front of her the way Matt trained her, elbows bent, loose fists up to protect her face from an oncoming blow. A soft yellow light emanates from her hands.

She isn't sure what other weapons the woman has on her body, she she doesn't rush forward again.

Of course, she'd lost the element of surprise. The woman can see her powers now. But it had been more important to Karen in the heat of the moment to get a read on the woman rather than just attack blindly.

When the blonde woman speaks and motions to the nearby lamppost, she scoffs.

"You think I can't get away? That I don't have a way to escape? I never go into something without knowing a way out."

Slowly she lowers them so the woman can see in her eyes how sad her statement made her.

It's hard to imagine the life this person has led. She looks so young. Early 20's maybe. But she's lean and practiced, and her face and eyes are hard. Not with cruelty, but from a life making hard decisions.

"I am changing things. I'm changing things for the people who fear their abusers and assaulters. For the people's lives who have been unfairly ripped away from them." She pauses, walks away a bit, and grabs a black backpack. She starts shoving her stuff into it.

"Sounds like a deal," she says, climbing to her feet with a small grunt. She leans over and dusts dirt off her pants before straightening.

Last time she had allies... was back in the military. She didn't do allies. She didn't do help.

She couldn't help giving the offer, even if it wasn't likely to be accepted. Maybe someday it would be. She turned to leave.

But the last word caused her to stop in her tracks as if she had been punched in the gut.

A gasp flew past her lips and she whirled back around to face the young woman. "W-what did you say?" she whispered.

Suddenly she knew why she had had the initial gut feeling to trust the woman. It hadn't been obvious to her at first, but now she could see the resemblance. The high cheekbones, the strong chin, the square shoulders.

The family resemblance.

When Karen gasps and turns around, the woman furrows her brows in confusion.

For a moment she just stares at the young woman in complete shock.

Possibilities flit through her mind like a deck of cards shuffling. Could this really be...? But no, Frank had buried his family, she knew it. There were graves. She had gone with him to visit them on their anniversary.

Which left... what? Clone? Skrull? Alternate reality? Karen bites back a laugh because if she lets it out, it will sound hysterical. This is where she is in life, considering these possibilities.

She realizes how long she's been silent and clears her throat self-consciously. "I-I know Frank Castle," she says, soft but clearly in the quiet of the New York night. "Frank is your father?"

Her heart squeezes just thinking of telling Frank she'd met his daughter.

Questions swirl around in her head, but she doesn't seem nearly as distraught as Karen.

She takes a breath to speak and then stops. Frank isn't around at the moment, and the last time she had talked to him, he had seemed strange. Unlike himself. The worry simmered in the back of her mind, but she knew she had to wait for him to appear again before she could figure out what happened. That was how Frank Castle operated.

For now, she couldn't bring herself to tell this woman that Frank was alive. It would be cruel to tease her, to offer a possibility like that and then snatch it back with the follow up that Karen didn't know where he was. Just alive and out there. Somewhere.

"I-I'm glad to have met you," she said, instead. "If he could see you like this, all grown up..." Her voice gets thick with the last words and she stops before she tears up.

She sucks a slow breath in when Karen's voice gets thick with sadness. Lisa stares as Karen brings out a business card. Her eyes flicker between the card and Karen a few times before she grabs it.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

MJ's sneakers skid on the tarpaper of the roof as she stops and puts her hands up. Her black hoodie creeps up over the waistband of her black maternity leggings, showing off her bump.

"Don't shoot, please, I'm unarmed. I was just, uh, doing some reconnaissance...crap."

At the red haired lady's words the woman furrows her brows.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

She wasn't supposed to be in the area, but she had been going out at night to talk to her contacts on the street about what had happened with the Hole. Trying to dig up anything on how or why it had happened.

Instead tonight she stumbled on what appeared to be an assassination attempt.

Adrenaline floods her system and her hand starts to go to her purse, but she freezes at the sight of the handgun in the woman's hand. She raises her hands, palms out, to show they're empty.

She should leave. The smart thing to do would be to leave. But then if she did, someone was going to die tonight. She couldn't let that happen.

"Mistakes? Lady what are you talkin' about? You think I'm doin' this for a personal grudge?" She shakes her head.

She took another step forward, bringing her closer to the young woman. There was something strikingly familiar in her face, in the way she turned her head slightly with narrowed eyes when she regarded Karen incredulously. Something about it made Karen's heart thud in her chest for a reason she couldn't figure out, but she knew she had to try to help the woman.

"I do have permits, but this one ain't registered." She shrugs.

At the blonde lady taking a confident step towards her, she stiffens slightly. She raises the gun in her hands ever so slightly.

"He's been prosecuted. He did time, and he's still doing bad shit. Nobody is making me do anything. I've chosen to take this guy out myself." The woman scoots back a bit, making some more space.

"That so? Then I think I'm done talking," Karen muttered, and then she moved.

She didn't have enhanced reflexes, but she was fast. It only took two steps to get within arms length of the young woman, and then both Karen's hands shot up to grab the front of the woman's coat.

The woman was fast and confident, but she was too. When the blonde lady reaches out, she scrunches up her body, moving her knees to her chest and her feet more up.

And as soon as the blonde woman gets close enough... she plants her feet on the woman's hips. It's not a kick, but rather a block to create space.

Then the crackles. Her eyes widen as she sees electricity coming from the woman's hands.

She is cool and collected in a fight. She has training and a fast reaction time.

The foot to her hip drives Karen back a pace. She holds up her hands in front of her the way Matt trained her, elbows bent, loose fists up to protect her face from an oncoming blow. A soft yellow light emanates from her hands.

She isn't sure what other weapons the woman has on her body, she she doesn't rush forward again.

Of course, she'd lost the element of surprise. The woman can see her powers now. But it had been more important to Karen in the heat of the moment to get a read on the woman rather than just attack blindly.

When the blonde woman speaks and motions to the nearby lamppost, she scoffs.

"You think I can't get away? That I don't have a way to escape? I never go into something without knowing a way out."

Slowly she lowers them so the woman can see in her eyes how sad her statement made her.

It's hard to imagine the life this person has led. She looks so young. Early 20's maybe. But she's lean and practiced, and her face and eyes are hard. Not with cruelty, but from a life making hard decisions.

"I am changing things. I'm changing things for the people who fear their abusers and assaulters. For the people's lives who have been unfairly ripped away from them." She pauses, walks away a bit, and grabs a black backpack. She starts shoving her stuff into it.

"Sounds like a deal," she says, climbing to her feet with a small grunt. She leans over and dusts dirt off her pants before straightening.

Last time she had allies... was back in the military. She didn't do allies. She didn't do help.

She couldn't help giving the offer, even if it wasn't likely to be accepted. Maybe someday it would be. She turned to leave.

But the last word caused her to stop in her tracks as if she had been punched in the gut.

A gasp flew past her lips and she whirled back around to face the young woman. "W-what did you say?" she whispered.

Suddenly she knew why she had had the initial gut feeling to trust the woman. It hadn't been obvious to her at first, but now she could see the resemblance. The high cheekbones, the strong chin, the square shoulders.

The family resemblance.

When Karen gasps and turns around, the woman furrows her brows in confusion.

For a moment she just stares at the young woman in complete shock.

Possibilities flit through her mind like a deck of cards shuffling. Could this really be...? But no, Frank had buried his family, she knew it. There were graves. She had gone with him to visit them on their anniversary.

Which left... what? Clone? Skrull? Alternate reality? Karen bites back a laugh because if she lets it out, it will sound hysterical. This is where she is in life, considering these possibilities.

She realizes how long she's been silent and clears her throat self-consciously. "I-I know Frank Castle," she says, soft but clearly in the quiet of the New York night. "Frank is your father?"

Her heart squeezes just thinking of telling Frank she'd met his daughter.

Questions swirl around in her head, but she doesn't seem nearly as distraught as Karen.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

She wasn't supposed to be in the area, but she had been going out at night to talk to her contacts on the street about what had happened with the Hole. Trying to dig up anything on how or why it had happened.

Instead tonight she stumbled on what appeared to be an assassination attempt.

Adrenaline floods her system and her hand starts to go to her purse, but she freezes at the sight of the handgun in the woman's hand. She raises her hands, palms out, to show they're empty.

She should leave. The smart thing to do would be to leave. But then if she did, someone was going to die tonight. She couldn't let that happen.

"Mistakes? Lady what are you talkin' about? You think I'm doin' this for a personal grudge?" She shakes her head.

She took another step forward, bringing her closer to the young woman. There was something strikingly familiar in her face, in the way she turned her head slightly with narrowed eyes when she regarded Karen incredulously. Something about it made Karen's heart thud in her chest for a reason she couldn't figure out, but she knew she had to try to help the woman.

"I do have permits, but this one ain't registered." She shrugs.

At the blonde lady taking a confident step towards her, she stiffens slightly. She raises the gun in her hands ever so slightly.

"He's been prosecuted. He did time, and he's still doing bad shit. Nobody is making me do anything. I've chosen to take this guy out myself." The woman scoots back a bit, making some more space.

"That so? Then I think I'm done talking," Karen muttered, and then she moved.

She didn't have enhanced reflexes, but she was fast. It only took two steps to get within arms length of the young woman, and then both Karen's hands shot up to grab the front of the woman's coat.

The woman was fast and confident, but she was too. When the blonde lady reaches out, she scrunches up her body, moving her knees to her chest and her feet more up.

And as soon as the blonde woman gets close enough... she plants her feet on the woman's hips. It's not a kick, but rather a block to create space.

Then the crackles. Her eyes widen as she sees electricity coming from the woman's hands.

She is cool and collected in a fight. She has training and a fast reaction time.

The foot to her hip drives Karen back a pace. She holds up her hands in front of her the way Matt trained her, elbows bent, loose fists up to protect her face from an oncoming blow. A soft yellow light emanates from her hands.

She isn't sure what other weapons the woman has on her body, she she doesn't rush forward again.

Of course, she'd lost the element of surprise. The woman can see her powers now. But it had been more important to Karen in the heat of the moment to get a read on the woman rather than just attack blindly.

When the blonde woman speaks and motions to the nearby lamppost, she scoffs.

"You think I can't get away? That I don't have a way to escape? I never go into something without knowing a way out."

Slowly she lowers them so the woman can see in her eyes how sad her statement made her.

It's hard to imagine the life this person has led. She looks so young. Early 20's maybe. But she's lean and practiced, and her face and eyes are hard. Not with cruelty, but from a life making hard decisions.

"I am changing things. I'm changing things for the people who fear their abusers and assaulters. For the people's lives who have been unfairly ripped away from them." She pauses, walks away a bit, and grabs a black backpack. She starts shoving her stuff into it.

"Sounds like a deal," she says, climbing to her feet with a small grunt. She leans over and dusts dirt off her pants before straightening.

Last time she had allies... was back in the military. She didn't do allies. She didn't do help.

She couldn't help giving the offer, even if it wasn't likely to be accepted. Maybe someday it would be. She turned to leave.

But the last word caused her to stop in her tracks as if she had been punched in the gut.

A gasp flew past her lips and she whirled back around to face the young woman. "W-what did you say?" she whispered.

Suddenly she knew why she had had the initial gut feeling to trust the woman. It hadn't been obvious to her at first, but now she could see the resemblance. The high cheekbones, the strong chin, the square shoulders.

The family resemblance.

When Karen gasps and turns around, the woman furrows her brows in confusion.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

She wasn't supposed to be in the area, but she had been going out at night to talk to her contacts on the street about what had happened with the Hole. Trying to dig up anything on how or why it had happened.

Instead tonight she stumbled on what appeared to be an assassination attempt.

Adrenaline floods her system and her hand starts to go to her purse, but she freezes at the sight of the handgun in the woman's hand. She raises her hands, palms out, to show they're empty.

She should leave. The smart thing to do would be to leave. But then if she did, someone was going to die tonight. She couldn't let that happen.

"Mistakes? Lady what are you talkin' about? You think I'm doin' this for a personal grudge?" She shakes her head.

She took another step forward, bringing her closer to the young woman. There was something strikingly familiar in her face, in the way she turned her head slightly with narrowed eyes when she regarded Karen incredulously. Something about it made Karen's heart thud in her chest for a reason she couldn't figure out, but she knew she had to try to help the woman.

"I do have permits, but this one ain't registered." She shrugs.

At the blonde lady taking a confident step towards her, she stiffens slightly. She raises the gun in her hands ever so slightly.

"He's been prosecuted. He did time, and he's still doing bad shit. Nobody is making me do anything. I've chosen to take this guy out myself." The woman scoots back a bit, making some more space.

"That so? Then I think I'm done talking," Karen muttered, and then she moved.

She didn't have enhanced reflexes, but she was fast. It only took two steps to get within arms length of the young woman, and then both Karen's hands shot up to grab the front of the woman's coat.

The woman was fast and confident, but she was too. When the blonde lady reaches out, she scrunches up her body, moving her knees to her chest and her feet more up.

And as soon as the blonde woman gets close enough... she plants her feet on the woman's hips. It's not a kick, but rather a block to create space.

Then the crackles. Her eyes widen as she sees electricity coming from the woman's hands.

She is cool and collected in a fight. She has training and a fast reaction time.

The foot to her hip drives Karen back a pace. She holds up her hands in front of her the way Matt trained her, elbows bent, loose fists up to protect her face from an oncoming blow. A soft yellow light emanates from her hands.

She isn't sure what other weapons the woman has on her body, she she doesn't rush forward again.

Of course, she'd lost the element of surprise. The woman can see her powers now. But it had been more important to Karen in the heat of the moment to get a read on the woman rather than just attack blindly.

When the blonde woman speaks and motions to the nearby lamppost, she scoffs.

"You think I can't get away? That I don't have a way to escape? I never go into something without knowing a way out."

Slowly she lowers them so the woman can see in her eyes how sad her statement made her.

It's hard to imagine the life this person has led. She looks so young. Early 20's maybe. But she's lean and practiced, and her face and eyes are hard. Not with cruelty, but from a life making hard decisions.

"I am changing things. I'm changing things for the people who fear their abusers and assaulters. For the people's lives who have been unfairly ripped away from them." She pauses, walks away a bit, and grabs a black backpack. She starts shoving her stuff into it.

"Sounds like a deal," she says, climbing to her feet with a small grunt. She leans over and dusts dirt off her pants before straightening.

Last time she had allies... was back in the military. She didn't do allies. She didn't do help.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

She wasn't supposed to be in the area, but she had been going out at night to talk to her contacts on the street about what had happened with the Hole. Trying to dig up anything on how or why it had happened.

Instead tonight she stumbled on what appeared to be an assassination attempt.

Adrenaline floods her system and her hand starts to go to her purse, but she freezes at the sight of the handgun in the woman's hand. She raises her hands, palms out, to show they're empty.

She should leave. The smart thing to do would be to leave. But then if she did, someone was going to die tonight. She couldn't let that happen.

"Mistakes? Lady what are you talkin' about? You think I'm doin' this for a personal grudge?" She shakes her head.

She took another step forward, bringing her closer to the young woman. There was something strikingly familiar in her face, in the way she turned her head slightly with narrowed eyes when she regarded Karen incredulously. Something about it made Karen's heart thud in her chest for a reason she couldn't figure out, but she knew she had to try to help the woman.

"I do have permits, but this one ain't registered." She shrugs.

At the blonde lady taking a confident step towards her, she stiffens slightly. She raises the gun in her hands ever so slightly.

"He's been prosecuted. He did time, and he's still doing bad shit. Nobody is making me do anything. I've chosen to take this guy out myself." The woman scoots back a bit, making some more space.

"That so? Then I think I'm done talking," Karen muttered, and then she moved.

She didn't have enhanced reflexes, but she was fast. It only took two steps to get within arms length of the young woman, and then both Karen's hands shot up to grab the front of the woman's coat.

The woman was fast and confident, but she was too. When the blonde lady reaches out, she scrunches up her body, moving her knees to her chest and her feet more up.

And as soon as the blonde woman gets close enough... she plants her feet on the woman's hips. It's not a kick, but rather a block to create space.

Then the crackles. Her eyes widen as she sees electricity coming from the woman's hands.

She is cool and collected in a fight. She has training and a fast reaction time.

The foot to her hip drives Karen back a pace. She holds up her hands in front of her the way Matt trained her, elbows bent, loose fists up to protect her face from an oncoming blow. A soft yellow light emanates from her hands.

She isn't sure what other weapons the woman has on her body, she she doesn't rush forward again.

Of course, she'd lost the element of surprise. The woman can see her powers now. But it had been more important to Karen in the heat of the moment to get a read on the woman rather than just attack blindly.

When the blonde woman speaks and motions to the nearby lamppost, she scoffs.

"You think I can't get away? That I don't have a way to escape? I never go into something without knowing a way out."

Slowly she lowers them so the woman can see in her eyes how sad her statement made her.

It's hard to imagine the life this person has led. She looks so young. Early 20's maybe. But she's lean and practiced, and her face and eyes are hard. Not with cruelty, but from a life making hard decisions.

"I am changing things. I'm changing things for the people who fear their abusers and assaulters. For the people's lives who have been unfairly ripped away from them." She pauses, walks away a bit, and grabs a black backpack. She starts shoving her stuff into it.

"One batch, two batch, penny an' dime." The words come out near silent. A quiet whisper in the wind. It's a chilly night- not very unusual for springtime in New York. The sky is starless due to the mass amount of light pooling from every building in the city. The constant hum of cars driving and the occasional honk... it all adds to the atmosphere. An atmosphere that's oddly comforting to some, while disturbing to others.

But to her? It's just another factor into what she is doing. She doesn't care about being comfortable. After all she's done, how could she?

She sucks in a slow breath, holds it for a few seconds, then lets it out slowly. The wind. This would be more complicated with the wind. She tightens her grip on the weapon digging into her shoulder. She leans her head down, looking through the scope of her rifle.

It takes a split moment to adjust to the magnification of the scope, and another to slowly move and spot her target. Or where they would be soon enough.

One shot, one kill. Then pack up and leave, blending into the streets like any other person.

But something was off. A sound. A small sound.

A footstep.

She whips around, hand going to the gun on her thigh. She brings it up with practiced speed, pointing it at the person behind her.

She wasn't supposed to be in the area, but she had been going out at night to talk to her contacts on the street about what had happened with the Hole. Trying to dig up anything on how or why it had happened.

Instead tonight she stumbled on what appeared to be an assassination attempt.

Adrenaline floods her system and her hand starts to go to her purse, but she freezes at the sight of the handgun in the woman's hand. She raises her hands, palms out, to show they're empty.

She should leave. The smart thing to do would be to leave. But then if she did, someone was going to die tonight. She couldn't let that happen.

"Mistakes? Lady what are you talkin' about? You think I'm doin' this for a personal grudge?" She shakes her head.

She took another step forward, bringing her closer to the young woman. There was something strikingly familiar in her face, in the way she turned her head slightly with narrowed eyes when she regarded Karen incredulously. Something about it made Karen's heart thud in her chest for a reason she couldn't figure out, but she knew she had to try to help the woman.

"I do have permits, but this one ain't registered." She shrugs.

At the blonde lady taking a confident step towards her, she stiffens slightly. She raises the gun in her hands ever so slightly.

"He's been prosecuted. He did time, and he's still doing bad shit. Nobody is making me do anything. I've chosen to take this guy out myself." The woman scoots back a bit, making some more space.

"That so? Then I think I'm done talking," Karen muttered, and then she moved.

She didn't have enhanced reflexes, but she was fast. It only took two steps to get within arms length of the young woman, and then both Karen's hands shot up to grab the front of the woman's coat.

The woman was fast and confident, but she was too. When the blonde lady reaches out, she scrunches up her body, moving her knees to her chest and her feet more up.

And as soon as the blonde woman gets close enough... she plants her feet on the woman's hips. It's not a kick, but rather a block to create space.

Then the crackles. Her eyes widen as she sees electricity coming from the woman's hands.

She is cool and collected in a fight. She has training and a fast reaction time.

The foot to her hip drives Karen back a pace. She holds up her hands in front of her the way Matt trained her, elbows bent, loose fists up to protect her face from an oncoming blow. A soft yellow light emanates from her hands.

She isn't sure what other weapons the woman has on her body, she she doesn't rush forward again.

Of course, she'd lost the element of surprise. The woman can see her powers now. But it had been more important to Karen in the heat of the moment to get a read on the woman rather than just attack blindly.

When the blonde woman speaks and motions to the nearby lamppost, she scoffs.

"You think I can't get away? That I don't have a way to escape? I never go into something without knowing a way out."