With her hands still defensively poised above the pouches at her belt, Duchess had been ready to react to any danger. She’d flinched at the sudden roar of rage from Paladin bursting free from Ink’s clutches, but had remained still and alert, waiting for a direct attack.

And yet, when Surge suddenly drew everybody’s attention with a sudden, crackling blue glow in his quest to sabotage the inexplicable machine that towered all around them, she hadn’t had even the slightest chance of comprehending what was happening, let alone respond to it. With a blink she realised the Doctor had traversed the room in that same moment that everybody else was still registering what Surge was up to – sending him spinning through the air – and returned back to face the group.

She was beyond quick. Her movements were inhuman, downright impossible. It seemed that the Doctor’s experiments with human biology had spread further than endowing powers and God-level resuscitation – she had also improved her own body. It would certainly explain how she had been on this Earth for as long as she claimed.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that Duchess was still stunned with fear then she might have noticed just how impressive the Doctor really was. Almost aspirational.

Duchess’s head finally caught up with the situation and she found herself running towards the place where Surge had rather unceremoniously landed. She’d made the rather swift decision that she wasn’t going to retaliate against this extremely powerful woman. It seemed better to ensure one of their key players hadn’t been knocked from the game before it had even truly begun, and so Duchess was back in the role of nurse.

She glanced up briefly at the scene before her; the Doctor in the white coat, her repugnant henchman, Ink and Paladin still reeling in the aftermath of their own altercation, Overwatch, Spectre (wherever he was – she assumed he was still present) and the two newcomers who hadn’t gotten round to introducing themselves yet. It was chaotic.

Duchess considered for a moment whether Ink would need any assistance following Paladin’s forceful protest (Duchess would have done the same in her situation if she could have) and quickly dismissed the thought. She’d distributed healing salves – Surge was the immediate concern.

He was dazed but not unresponsive, and there didn’t seem to be any open wounds caused by the Doctor’s attack. She rifled through her pouches, plucking out a single tube of liquid that she’d come up with after a couple of sleepless nights that had been the product of two full days of work combined with obsessive exploration of her power. It should hopefully kickstart him back into action more quickly than just waiting for him to recover naturally.

“Try this,” she hissed, thrusting it into his hand. She was acutely aware that things were moving swiftly in the room now, and she couldn’t afford to keep her guard down for long. Then she stood up and turned to face the chaotic scene once more.

The doorman irked Duchess on a deep, personal level. His very appearance was insulting to the situation; she swore she could see the Cheeto dust on the man’s fingers. There was no ceremonial acknowledgement of their arrival. Nothing at all to suggest that he was even at all impressed to see the super-powered group of heroes before him. Their efforts felt useless if this was their reward. The cheap door trick was just a further insult.

At least the Doctor had the respect to greet them with a little more grandeur. The clean white coat was a dramatic contrast to the dark, complex machinery that dominated the space. The smile on her face suggested that she was entirely comfortable with their presence, smug in the assumption that she had the upper hand. Duchess scanned the room for links to the ominous “black spade” group, but found nothing. It seemed that this woman was a lone wolf.

Duchess was irritated a second time as Paladin made a complete fool of herself. The younger girl had launched herself at the Doctor with an open sentimentality that only served to tip the balance of power ever further in the Doctor’s favour. If they had come here to apprehend the powerful woman – a cause Duchess wasn’t even particularly heartfelt about in the first place – then Paladin had a strange way of going about it.

Of course, Surge was the one to step forward and attempt to prise back the control that Paladin had forfeited. He was always focused on the goal, always striving for it. It was a shame that he seemed to have been sucked in by the more noble side of their newfound powers. He wasn’t quite the devoted hero that Paladin seemed desperate to become, but all the same he supported the cause. The black spades had begun to tear Duchess away from that prospect of success through heroism (as if she’d ever been very attached to the idea in the first place). The new mystery – its dark, enigmatic nature just oozing power – had enticed her, and it seemed that even Surge’s magnetic charisma and ambition was not going to be enough to pull her back without a solid victory on his side.

It seemed that Duchess’s future with the group of superheroes depended very much upon the outcome of this encounter with the Doctor. They had triumphed in the face of adversity before, but this uphill battle felt more like standing before an insurmountable cliff face.

“You know why we’re here,” Duchess said bluntly, eyeing the Doctor with a cautious defiance. “What we’re capable of.”

She wondered if the Doctor was proud of her little projects; how far they’d come. Now they were here to thwart the very work they had been a result of.

She looked up at the pipes that stretched up into the darkness. Duchess couldn’t even begin to fathom their purpose. “As far as family gatherings go, this is probably the nicest I’ve attended. Don’t take that as a compliment,” she added, a quick snide remark that she hoped would throw the Doctor just a little bit. “You and I seem to have very different expectations when it comes to family.”

The Doctor was a fool. Spectre had told them of her loneliness that was fuelling this quest to awaken powers. If she thought her actions would rid her of it, then she was deluded. Shared genetics didn’t force some kind of bond with others. They only worsened the sting of rejection.

“Family is rarely as welcoming as we want. I know that. You know that.” Duchess smirked at the Doctor’s words. “You have already met the pawns of those who would see me fail. You certainly handled yourselves well then. You have taken to your gifts swifter than I could possibly have imagined. Who are you to deny that opportunity to anyone else?”

Duchess folded her arms in response, eyes cold.

Slow to follow Ink’s gaze up to the roof, feeling rather more preoccupied with ensuring that the girl didn’t suddenly collapse, Duchess barely caught Paladin’s fall. It was over in the blink of an eye, Duchess not even having time to add her own voice to Surge’s cry of concern before the young hero hit the ground. A heartbeat later, and the figure was sitting bolt upright.

She’d survived. Unharmed.

If Duchess had been impressed by Paladin’s ability to resist damage before, that was nothing compared to the quiet awe she felt now. What a power! Surely this meant that she was truly indestructible – or close to it. From the look on Paladin’s face as she slowly got to her feet, she was pretty awestruck herself. Clearly she had tumbled rather than leapt from the building.

Duchess was still staring when Paladin cursed suddenly and sprang into action, starting towards the door before freezing, turning to face the side of the building once more, and then pushing herself up from the ground. Impossibly high, floating in a quick, eerie fashion, Paladin soared through an open window on the second floor and addressed whoever was inside. Overwatch, perhaps. Maybe even Spectre – it was hard to know where he was without following the sound of terrible jokes.

Surge made his preparations, extracting power from Ink’s ruined car, before officially dumping the responsibility of looking after her on Duchess’s shoulders and disappearing towards the building with a tell-tale flash of blue light.

At this point, Duchess was very much of the belief that they were going to survive this encounter. She hadn’t fancied their chances when they were first ambushed – both outnumbered and cornered simultaneously – but their powers had worked wonders in the face of traditional weaponry. Surely this would capture the attention of somebody in the know. Someone who could really make use of their abilities, perhaps.

Anyway, Ink was still looking wobbly, the night wasn’t over just yet. Duchess turned to appraise the young woman once more, putting her best sympathetic nurse’s mask on.

“You don’t look too steady,” she said quickly, offering an arm for support. “Here, take the jacket off. You should sit down again before you fall,” she added, really not wanting to have to deal with Ink suddenly collapsing on her. “It looks like you’ve hit your head, I don’t know how much external salve will help that but… I guess it could soothe things. And… huh…!”

With the jacket off and pulling fabric away, Duchess was now able to see the damage, or lack thereof, that the bullet had done to Ink’s shoulder. There was a solidly painful looking welt forming around the area that the bullet should have penetrated the skin but, miraculously, the bullet didn’t seem to have burst through.

This excursion was turning out to be quite the test for the team’s two more durable members. It was quite fortunate, really, Duchess thought to herself. Better them than her – her power wasn’t particularly advantageous when it came to speeding bullets and plummets from rooftops.

“This has maybe dug in a little, but I can definitely heal this,” Duchess said quickly, unscrewing the lid to a bottle of healing salve. Then, without warning, she plucked the bullet from Ink’s shoulder and instantly applied a palmful of salve to the area. She kept her hand pressed there, willing her concoction to work.

Duchess watched Ink for a reaction, partially in order to make sure she was still conscious. “How does it feel?” she asked, intrigued rather than concerned. Then she pulled her hand away, hopeful, and studied her handiwork.

Sprinting for your life was apparently useless when there was an equally unfriendly-looking group of men trapping you in at the other end, and Persephone skidded to a halt beside her teammates. There wasn’t time to come up with a strategy, only react as best they could, and Persephone’s instinct was to crouch down low and wait for the assailants to dare to draw closer. She did her best to forget that she was Persephone Dean. She was Duchess now.

Surge struck the man with the hand-gun with all his usual flair, the alley flashing blue for an instant as the bolt connected. There was only the barest of pauses in which their enemies realised what they were up against before the action really kicked in, and Duchess found herself actually moving towards the danger in order to dispel it.

She could hear grunts of pain from the group at the other end – clearly whoever had chosen to take that flank was also having some impact. Paladin had blasted a door off its hinges and was rushing through, Overwatch close behind her, and Duchess took the opportunity to grant them a few moments to breathe.

Delicate glass vial still in her hand, Duchess threw it with a surprising amount of force and accuracy at the men directly before her, immediately leaping into a back handspring to move away from the effects of its contents. She was rather pleased that she could still pull off that move with only a little corrective step.

A cloud of dust burst violently in front of one man’s face, the two either side of him also catching a good amount of it in their eyes. The powder had been an effort to produce but Duchess was more than satisfied with its results – and particularly grateful that she’d produced several vials of it. It halted the three in their tracks, clawing at their eyes and choking at the sudden inhalation (a side effect she hadn’t considered, but a useful one).

There were others coming from the side that Spectre had presumably been dealing with – their number slightly thinned, but not enough to keep them back – and Duchess bolted from them, aiming to follow the path that Surge had taken and maybe re-join him in combat. Entering the warehouse was not really an option with all the thugs trying to follow Paladin and Overwatch.

She could hear shots again. Inside. No way to tell from which side, although the sudden halt of guys in the doorway was a pretty good indicator. She could only hope that they wouldn’t give up on entering the warehouse and follow her instead.

Duchess came out the end of the alleyway and kept running, spotting a group of men being led down the street by Surge. She could have sworn that she’d spotted a flash of crimson on his forehead when he looked back for a moment. She’d need to get some of her salve to him when she had the chance.

For now, she pulled out another vial of blinding powder and shouted as loud as she could to draw the guys’ attention. “Hey, go long!”

A couple of them turned, confused, and the other looked back. Duchess propelled herself forward with another energetic handspring and threw the vial as hard as she could at their feet, hoping the powder would spread enough to have at least some effect.

They were lined up in the street before Ink’s car, almost perfectly… like bowling pins…

So far being part of a superhero team had been… interesting.

Persephone had been a little wary at first, even if she was definitely still eager to attract the attention of the hidden world of people with superpowers. Her power wasn’t a direct, combative skillset and she had been worried about her own vulnerability should she end up needing to actually physically fight someone. They’d trained a little in that area, and she’d surprised herself with her own strength, but one could hardly call them battle-ready.

The costumes had been another thing she was unsure of, but she’d agreed to go along with it eventually. She was in agreement with the necessity to conceal their identities in some way, and it would certainly go even further to attract attention if they wore iconic outfits every time they engaged in their vigilante activities. Persephone’s own costume was fairly eye-catching. In homage to the inspiration for her own poison garden, she had chosen the alias of “Duchess”, and had been styled accordingly in lavish dark reds and golds. A golden, vine-like design spiralled and spread down one of her sleeves, with the asymmetric cut necessitating a long, black glove to substitute as the other sleeve. The costume was definitely more flashy than it was practical, but at least she wasn’t in heels and the fabric was all perfectly moveable. There was a small tear where she’d caught it on the fortuitous drug-bust outing, but otherwise Alice’s friend’s work had been most satisfactory.

As well as training for the more physical aspects and Will’s attempts to instil some sense of caution into the group (which, as Paladin had demonstrated, may have fallen on deaf ears), Persephone had been experimenting more with her ability. The snobbish, budding restaurateur from that insufferable chain who had wanted to take over the restaurant she worked in had suffered some truly explosive, projectile “food poisoning” upon his visit, which was definitely Persephone’s first major success with her ability. Healing Alice’s friction-burned hands had merely been a little test for her powers. Since the faux food poisoning, Persephone had brought in several more species of potentially useful plants and was currently growing them at quite an impressive rate.

For today, she’d developed a powder – a mix of plant products with various fun levels of toxicity – that would temporarily blind an opponent, as well as a few healing salves and a little tube of highly deadly poison, for emergencies of course. She kept these in pouches at her belt, ready for use should she need them.

She had to agree with Surge, they did look good as a group.

“Let’s go,” she affirmed, with a curt nod. “Find us something good, Spectre!”

It was a little hard to fake the same perky enthusiasm as Surge and Paladin, for example, but Persephone was doing her best to fit in with the group. For now.

Again, Persephone wasn’t a huge fan of the subjective nature of art appreciation – tattoos included. However, there was something undeniably entrancing about the mythical creature that danced on Claire’s shoulder blade. It was definitely not actually living and breathing but there was still something bizarre about it. She dismissed the instinctive reaction as childish, but Persephone’s first thought was that it radiated some kind of deep potent power. Like there was something more to the tattoo than just being an aesthetic side effect.

No, it was just a tattoo. The doctor had clearly messed with their bodies – what was going to stop her from messing with their modifications? Maybe it had been a little after-thought; some brazen signature on her miraculous work.

“Priceless, right? This whole car crash is feeling like a better and better deal by the day,” Persephone responded, slightly surprised by Claire’s attitude. She’d been a lot quieter before, more anxious. Obviously she’d warmed up to the group a little more now. Either that, or she was putting on a whole lot of bravado, which Persephone didn’t rule out.

“So that means you can do what Alice does on like, a smaller scale? Or is it different?”

It would be strange if the two shared a power – differing only by magnitudes – where the others were so different. Well, Persephone didn’t actually know anything about powers. Maybe there was a small selection of skill-sets for people with abilities to choose from, so to speak, and they had all just happened to luck out with different ones. She was achingly aware that she did not have even close to enough information about the current situation and it was definitely quite the irritation.

She looked across at Alice, remembering her earlier, impressive demonstration, and cast her eyes to the girl’s reddened palms.

She looked across at the minimal selection of items she’d acquired from the garden store, power already a thousand steps ahead of her.

“Hey, Alice? I could take care of those burns, if you like.”