Better not linger in her starting place too much longer. Yellow's faster than her and may have already come home to a wreck. Thorn might have a habit of checking up on the place, even, just in case. She's invisible, inaudible, unsmellable - that won't help if he sends someone thorough. Or comes in person.
She sets out.
She's been flying for about thirty minutes after her shopping trip when she falls through a tear and squeaks inaudibly and lands in the middle of -
"...you did not just ask Bonesaw about her art." The speaker is one of the PRT people, but there's general agreement.
"Why not? I'm planning to stand here staring at her for a while; makes it hard to jot down notes on unrelated things or go update my photo blog. I'd been under the impression that it was all for practical purposes, not artistic ones."
"Because if you ask her, she might tell you. See those scalpels? She doesn't ask her canvases for permission."
"If I was ever squeamish it was a long time ago. Besides, if her motivation is art that's a little more hopeful than if it's purest sadism, isn't it? Unless someone's about to tell me that she's that short because of personal preference and she's actually, I don't know, ninety and set in her ways? Are there even any parahumans that old?"
"Parahumans only started appearing thirty years ago. Some of us can be expected to have extended life spans, but in general no."
"So she hasn't been doing this that long. And she's been keeping awful company too. Maybe her next hobby will be drawing, drawing is fun. That said, if and when I can turn her into something I am not planning to offer her the power of flight, although I'm undecided between the other creatures in my limited repertoire."
The Siberian heaves Bonesaw toward a gate, through where the window was going to be, and catches on to her wrist to follow her along for the ride. Before any part of either of them reaches it, the fairy lights wink out and they pass safely through. Safely, but not directly. They're moving at almost ninety-degree angles at unpredictable times on their way to the door.
Promise shuts the other gates; she can't intercept the path they're taking with replacements.
Victoria, stewing in various sorts of fury, dives for the doorway to impede them.
She's too slow, mostly because she finds herself going at the wrong angle. A striped hand lashes out and smashes into the side of Glory Girl's face.
Amy screams, but the hand bounces off.
Promise flies after the fleeing supervillains.
As they round a corner, she briefly sees Mannequin carrying a small captive in a green and white costume. Jack, holding the Siberian's non-Bonesaw-containing hand, smiles back at Promise and waves. With a knife. Its path crosses her throat.
"STOP," Promise yells at Mannequin anyway, but if he's not going around deaf he's not as smart as she thinks he is. The knife - she doesn't know if that will go through her personal forcefield as projected by Jack's power but this seems like a reasonable time to find out, with Panacea on hand and the villains on the run. She flies forward.
Jack doesn't test it. Instead, he steps around the corner and allows his place to be taken by a wall of glass. Much of it is sharp, and all of it is solid.
She zips back to the room with her five clones. "Any of you evil clones want to help me chase the Slaughterhouse Nine instead of standing there?"
"Maybe. They've got some of the same goals we do, and you maybe do too. We kill some of them for you and you, what, let us go?"
"Where are you planning to keep us?" asks a Victoria.
"I'm not planning to keep you. Long term I will think of orders that will make you not menaces to society even without my supervision and you can go not be menaces to society, but 'help me chase the S9' I can do in one long sentence, do you want to do that or wait?"
The Victorias hesitate, then a different one says, "Well, it's more interesting than standing around..."
"Yeah," says the third Victoria when she realizes she cannot nod.
"Fine," says the first.
The quieter clone Amy agrees, the real Amy glares.
Two Victorias pick up the Amies and all three of them fly after the fairy. The unencumbered one punches through the glass wall. Whee, chase scene!
By now the Nine have gotten out of the building and a head start. There's no immediate sign of their direction, except for a flying figure covered in glass, much of it colored. Wings trail behind it, and when Promise and her contingent exit the building the wings flare out.
The Amies touch one another and the Victorias. The irregularities the clones were created with smooth over, and something approximating clothes extrudes through their skin and consolidates into separate objects. (Color coded for telling them apart, naturally.)
If there are any other changes, they aren't immediately visible.
"Yeah, but not before she can kill as many people as will make whatever her point is, chief," says Blue. "Why don't you drop her in a gate?"
"If I were a silicakinetic fighting someone who did gates I'd have a bit of glass flying directly ahead of me at all times to make sure it didn't vanish unexpectedly, and that's if I weren't on a team with the Apparently Levitating Siberian. The priority is saving Vista, anyway, and Shatterbird doesn't have her and may or may not be going to wherever she is. Red, White," she names Amies, "can you do tracking-by-smell modifications from a cold start or would you have needed to smell the targets ahead of time?"
Red answers, White still seems to prefer to let her do the talking. "Unless we get really lucky with how distinctive they smell, wouldn't work. How about if we do something to Shatterbird? Don't need to find her, and we can have her thinking she needs to get to Bonesaw right away."
It's sort of like a harmonic map. Promise knows the range of her flattener; she tries to make a light overhead, farther than that, and it fails, so the big one for the Leviathan fight is turned off or broken; and that means that if anywhere outside of her portable's radius light appears where she wants it -
"Specialized? It wouldn't be, but she wouldn't need to find out we attacked her until too late. We find a bird, give it an instinct to hang around near flying shiny things, and make it spread something nasty. It's not like there's anyone else up there to infect."