Support for Useless Supers

One: Not Again...

I did not plan on being here again.

....well, to be fair, I don't think anyone really plans on being handcuffed against the hood of a police car while they watch a park burn down at the hands of their pyromaniac friend.

And before you ask again, yes, this has happened before, or at least something similar. Maali doesn't exactly have the best control over his abilities yet.

The main thing I didn't really understand, though, is why the fire department wasn't called first. Even after all six of us had been shoved into the cars and were driving towards the police station, no sirens could be heard, even as we were almost there.

I just silently hoped that that was because they had a hydrokinetic on the squadron.

Once we were at the station, my door was opened and an officer, stepped back for me to get out, my hands still restrained. I never really liked the feeling of being bound like this, no one does, unless...you're one of those people with a rope kink. But hey, who am I to judge?

I looked at the officer that had stepped away, squinting at a small set of words that appeared over his head. I had learned by now that I was the only one that could see them. I'd also learned in my long seventeen years of living that people don't like to be stared at long. I looked at the officer only long enough to read the name and description briefly before glancing away, eyes dodging back to it every few seconds to check for reading mistakes.

'Laser beam: can shoot lasers from fingertips that can cut through even steel.'

"No fair," I hissed under my breath, huffing and slouching slightly. Why did all the lackies get all the fun powers??? So unfair.

I didn't have much time to pout, though, as  the officer grabbed my arm and shoved me towards the lobby, apparently sick of my spacing out already. More people should consider my spacing a compliment, I think. It means that I'm actually interested in something about them and not just ignoring them!

Not many people seem to agree with me there, though.

Anywho, police station, right.....

I was sitting in an empty room, whistling to myself as I looked around, tapping my fingers on the desk. I could tell this was one of the "interrogation rooms" you'd see in movies. Of course, I'd always thought they were just for dramatic emphasis in movies. I guess real life needs some drama, too.

It seemed like forever before someone joined me, a rather stout and short woman dressed in a turtleneck sweater and jeans. Obviously not an officer. If she was, she'd had about a dozen too many donuts to pass the physical exams. Better get working that off.

She walked over to the table that my hands were cuffed to and pulled up a chair, placing a manilla folder neatly on the surface. "Dusty Law?"

I'd always hated that name, made me sound like I was older than the constitution.

"Yep?"

"My name is Miss Williams." She spoke rather neatly and formally.

It pissed me off.

"Miss, eh? Never married? Probably got a slew of exes. Maybe a divorce in there?"

She was not amused.

"...Miss Law, this is your third arrest this year alone and the school year isn't over yet."

"Correct," I smirked, leaning back in my chair....or at least as much one can while their hands are bound to a metal table.

"Miss Law, you may be a minor, but you're 17. You won't be for much longer. With a record like yours, once you become legally responsible for your actions, you'll find yourself quickly locked up in prison. Is that what you want?"

"Hey, I won't say no to free roam and board. The food ain't bad, either." 

She gave me a deadpan stare. "...the board has decided that you will undergo-"

"Who's the board?"

"-a series of group counseling sessions to come to terms with your apparent....inferiority complex."

"I do not have an inferiority complex."

I could tell that at this point she was getting quickly fed up with me, no matter how hard she tried to mask it. "Group sessions are every Tuesday and Thursday at 4 pm at the community center. If you do not attend, then we will have no choice but to send you to the juvenile detention center. This is your last chance, Miss Law."

I frowned at her, glaring slightly. The juvenile detention center in this area was...infamous for completely destroying morale of its detainees. "....fine."

"Don't be late," she frowned as she stood up from the desk, opening the folder and pulling out a single flier, pushing it over to me. With a small nod thrown in my direction, she turned and exited the room, closing it softly behind me.

Leaning forward in the chair, I looked over the flier, scowling. "....Support and Help for Inferior Teens.....shit, that's an unfortunate acronym." Still, seeing what I was going to be undergoing on paper? 

There's....no way I'm getting out of this.

Dammit.