Kyle pats himself down before nodding.
"Yeah, I feel alright."
"That's great. Guess we can discharge you, then. Sorry about the wait. Paperwork got a little shuffled, is all."
You'll say. You haven't even seen this woman before, you think. At any rate, you might be discharged at last! Happy day! Within a few hours, you are free! Free from this hell!
Jake takes a deep breath before this next part, knowing it could go horribly wrong. He activated his power, punching the wall again and waiting. He would time how long his power lasted and let go at the first sign of the bad feeling that usually preceded injury.
You activate your power after you regain the ability to do so, and then punch the wall, checking your phone for time. A minute passes, then another. You feel uneasy, but not in the immediate doom sort of way. More in the way that you know this should be dangerous.
Four minutes. It feels like such a long time right now. And you think you might make it to five, but then the feeling of doom strikes you, and you immediately let go. You breathe deep, and wait for two minutes more. Nothing happens. Nothing hurts, aside from your already broken fingers and nose. You breathe a sigh of relief.
Donning his disguise Steven continues watching to see how the skinheads are reacting to the project Ed kids and attemps to discern which, if any, of the project Ed kids are likely to be parahumans.
At the first sign that he has been noticed or a fight between the two sides breaks out Steven will walk directly up to tge fray and discharge a braced kinetic blast directly into its centre of mass.
You're pretty sure none of these kids are parahumans, at least they're not dressed like any of the big four, and the skinheads seem to just be on a night out, talking to each other, cracking jokes, talking about what they've done today. Mostly pretty harmless stuff. They do seem to like mocking each other more than a bit, though.
Selina stares at her thumb at the weird angle, covered in the slime, and feels a little sick. Considering everything she was put through already though, this quickly passes as she tries to pop her thumb back in.
Failing this for over a half hour, she'll try to undo the other arm strap and use her other hand to hopefully put her thumb back in place.
With the help of your mouth and a bit of disregard for the obvious unpleasantness of the dislocation, you pop the thumb back into place with a bit of effort - the first few times you go a bit wrong, and that hurts like a bitch, plus your hand is really slimy right now, and it tastes like snot, but you're getting there! And soon your thumb works! It hurts, but it works! And with the help of your repaired, if really sore hand, you manage to get free.
All of your limbs are quite stiff, since you haven't moved in three days. Not to any significant degree, anyway. It hurts to move, and your efforts to do so are slightly lethargic as your muscles adapt to motion once more. But now you are free, you think. You are free to leave this room, and to leave Konicek dead in a puddle of his own filth, leave all of this behind. As you rise to a seated position, the room looks a little different, and the reorientation of your head makes you dizzy. Or is that the freedom?
Alex would slowly close his eyes. He would quickly attempt to flash them open again, but he feel into a sleep.
You sleep, and you sleep well, and when you awaken you notice a doctor. A mousy sort, with cracked glasses and a clipboard. You can't quite read her name tag. It's some four letter word. Looks like...
Ah, she's coming closer. Getz. Dr. Getz. You seem to be able to notice quite a few details now, what with the world going a little slower.
"Hey, you're awake. Great. How are you feeling?"
Like shit, you'd say if you could speak.
"Thing is, you're in pretty bad shape, I think. It's a little hard to tell. You're kind of all weird physiologically. Taking out the bullets was apparently a real pain. Can you hear me? Blink twice for yes, three times for no."
How damaged is the area that she walked through?
Not at all. Lucky, that - you're pretty sure Dad would be pretty pissed if you ruined his lawn with your wacky powers.
Speaking of, judging by the way he's looking at you from the window, you're guessing he doesn't like you being out past bedtime like this.
Consider who might be willing to pay/protect me for my services.
Nobody right now, this much you know. You don't know if you can offer any services. Or what you can really make, either. You're pretty sure nobody's going to let you build giant frames on top of highways if you felt like it. All you've got are vague assurances, and you're fairly certain that even if you could prove without a doubt that you have Tinker powers, you still have no idea how anything you're doing works, why it would do so or even
if it works at all. A person would have to be either a dumbass or a psychic to sponsor you on your word alone, and you're not sure you're comfortable with working with either of those.