Flame

"Name?" The old lady with grey curls stares at you through thick horn-rimmed glasses from behind the reception desk, awaiting your response.

"Kate -er... I mean, Flame," you say. A month or so ago, your apartment burned down in collateral damage from the latest Supers vs Alien Invaders event. You were trapped inside, but instead of consuming you, the fire changed you. When you were finally pulled from the wreckage, covered in soot and the charred remains of your clothes, you were remarkably unharmed.

"Ah here it is," the lady says, pulling a file from a stack on the desk. "You've been assigned Sector 127. Here's your information packet." She hands you the folder. You stand there, awaiting any further instruction. "Go on now." She shoos you away. Not exactly the warm welcome you were expecting when you decided to register with the League.

It had taken some prodding from your BFF, Sarah, to even sign up at all. Your powers weren't completely obvious at first. Nobody could really explain how you had survived the fire, but it was chalked up as a lucky spot that protected you from the fire. You moved in with Sarah since your place was now in ashes and you continued working as a barista at the local Sundollars. One day, during a heated altercation with a customer, you got even more pissed when he called you 'Smokin.' Looking down, you were shocked to see that your shirt had in fact caught fire. You ran screaming to the break room and doused the flames, but surprisingly there wasn't even a mark on your body.

From there, you learned that you could control fire, or heat in general. You could engulf your whole body in an inferno and be completely fine. Surrounding fires and heat sources could be absorbed into your body, or you could turn the heat around and shoot flames. (Nobody complained about their coffee being cold ever again.) You even learned how to use the pockets of heated and cooled air to fly.

Unfortunately, there were some drawbacks. When you went full inferno, it was hot. Really hot. Like vaporize all your clothes hot. Knowing this, you had no desire to be a full-time superhero. While you're not exactly a prude, public nudity, or the strong possibility of it, was not exactly your idea of a good time. So you tried to keep your newfound powers hidden. But that Sarah is a perceptive one and after noticing one too many burnt pairs of undies in the laundry bin, she called you out.

"You can't just bury your head in the sand," you remember her saying. "These powers were a gift. You shouldn't let that go to waste." And she was right. This wasn't something you could just ignore. So you experimented and practiced with your powers with your friend's help. Between your meager salary and the insurance payout from the fire, you were able to purchase some of the most heat-resistant fabric known to man to fashion a uniform. It still might not hold up if you went all out, but it's the best you could do. Sadly, the stuff was crazy expensive and you could only afford enough material to make a silvery string bikini and thong ensemble. It barely contains your perky 34C's and your ass is basically on full display, but you found that revealing your athletic frame can have its benefits in distracting the enemy. In order to preserve some modesty, you wear a simple white t-shirt and grey cotton shorts when you aren't in immediate danger of burning through your clothes. If you have time, you remove them before going into battle, but for the heroine on a budget, it's a cheap outfit to replace.

And so, here you are now, standing in the Halls of Propriety, ready to go out on your first official patrol. Paging through the packet, you learn that your assigned sector has several areas to patrol, including a warehouse district, a nightclub and a shipping area.