I'M YOUR PUPPET; invincible

chapter 1

[act one; chapter one     -     invincible]

   The world passed beneath her like a blip. The wind cast through her hair. She soared far above it all, watching as it seemed to all blur together into one figure. A painting of sorts.

    Energy thrummed from it all, as if it were the heartbeat of Earth. It echoed in her ears; through her bones, as if calling to her. Beckoning her closer. To grow nearer.

    She did not. Not now.

    She dipped down, racing towards the city below her with a thunderous push forward. It echoed off of the water and buildings, a loud clap. Power in a free and unprohibited manner.

    She landed softly on a green lawn, tugging the top of her mask off. It fell softly into her hand, exposing the rest of her face to the surrounding world. She breathed, tipping her face up, feeling the sun against her skin. Warm and comforting. A reminder that she was alive.

    "Lo?"

    She dropped her chin, looking towards the back door of her house. "Morning, Dad."

    Elliot Mason smiled. Braced one hand on his hip. "Find anything interesting?"

    "No," she laughed, passing by him, stepping into the kitchen. "It's pretty quiet out there, at least from where I was."

    She can hear his footsteps, feel them, even. He stops in front of the sink, turning to lean against it. Crosses his arms over his broad chest. She knows he's raising his eyebrows, only to confirm it when she turns to face him. "Hm," he hums. Smiles. "I saved the White House again this morning."

    Of course he did. "Of course," she says. She shakes her head, unable (or unwilling, perhaps) to stop the laugh that leaves her. "What else would you be doing this morning?"

    "Literally nothing."

    Before he was anything else, Elliot Mason was her father. Her Dad. But after that, after surpassing the portions of his day where he was a father, he was a hero. An alien one, at that. He did not know where he came from; he knew nothing of his ancestry. Having lived nearly his entire life on Earth, he had grown accustomed to the human way of things. Save, of course, for his powers. The thing that set him apart from all others. Except for Loren.

    The ability to control every functioning semblance of energy coursed through their veins. The First Law of Thermodynamics, he had taught her at a young age. A bedtime story of sorts. They could not create energy or destroy it, but they could manipulate it in any fashion they desired. Any way that they willed. They could pull energy from objects and beings—strip them of life. They could press a hand into the dirt and seep it from the Earth.