Patrolling for crime

Narwhal was very thankful for the many scale-shaped forcefields covering her body. Not only were they tougher than Kevlar, but they were more insulated too, doing a much better job at keeping out the cold bite of winter in Toronto than a sweater or jacket.

She created a few forcefields to jump from an alley to a better vantage point on a roof, surveying the area. It was louder up here than down there, strong winds forcing her to maintain her balance as she looked out at the city. Her city. She’d rooted out crime in Toronto so many times that the mayor had erected a statue in her honor, although she wasn’t a fan. Not because it didn’t resemble her (if anything the one thing she did like about it was how it captured her domineering presence to a tee), but because she didn’t believe doing good was worthy of a chunk of concrete outside St. Lawrence Market. She did good because it was good to do, not for fame. If it was up to her, she’d stay as far out of the spotlight as possible.

It’d been a busy night, but Narwhal was far from fatigued. She’d busted up a **** deal, stopped some out of town tinker from raiding a lab, and broken up a fight that could’ve flipped CN Tower on its head. And yet here she stood, as strong as when she’d started her patrol this afternoon.

Her moment of peace came to a close though as her earpiece bzzt’d and a tinny voice came through.

“Hello, uh, Ms. Narwhal, ma’am,” Bright Idea said.

He’d recently graduated from the Wards to the Protectorate after years of service, yet he still seemed scared of her. It was almost endearing if it wasn’t so inefficient in the field.

“What is it, Bright.”

He cleared his throat. “We had a few texts come in saying there are villains defacing a monument, uh, your monument, actually.”

Narwhal was already moving, leaping from the rooftop to land on a forcefield and fly towards the market.

“Any details I need to know?”

“Permission to swear, ma’am?”

“It’s Bitchfit?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Bitchfit was an F-list villainess and a Grade-A nuisance, mostly harmless but with a grudge against capes that made most altercations troublesome. Narwhal had personally tried to recruit her to the Protectorate only to receive a few choice insults and middle fingers.

“You mentioned villains, plural. How many?” Narwhal asked. The market was coming into view.

“Just her and one other according to photos that came in, I can try to ask for more photos from those who chatted in, if you’d like, ma’am.”

“That’s fine, I’m arriving now, tell the concerned citizens everything is fine and will be handled,” Narwhal said, possibly a bit harsher than she intended. She added, “good job keeping an eye out, Bright.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am!”

And then there was another bzzt as Bright Idea shifted gears, hopefully getting some paperwork started for whatever came of this. Narwhal loomed over the street St. Lawrence Market was on, peering down at the brick building. There they were, a pair of very bright costumes circling around her statue near the entrance.

Bitchfit wasn’t particularly tough, but her power was annoying. She was able to take control of a cape’s power from them, but that control was finicky and she needed to touch the cape in question first. The person with her was likely some accomplice or fan she’d convinced to come out with her. But Narwhal had been burned a few many times by bad info and this was still an unknown person in a cape situation. They didn’t look like they were causing much trouble, but they were being loud and disturbing the public and that was enough for Narwhal to at least confront them.

She had two ways to play this and she weighed them carefully. She could go down there, make a show of power, get a few answers, and hopefully they would flee. Or she could maintain distance and hover closer without even giving Bitchfit a chance to try something stupid. It was smarter, but they were probably more likely to stick around and loiter and argue.