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You fly off towards one of the silhouettes, unsure of what to do. Of course, swooping in would probably kill her instantly. Slowing down to her speed then slowing further after picking her up would be the best bet.
You slow down and pick up the human female. Slowly, softly. She looks at you wide-eyed and her screaming stops. You look back at her expression, concentrated on not killing her by mishandling her weak body, then you start slowing down. When you see her wince in pain, you make sure to loosen your grip or decelerate slower.
Soon after, you land softly onto the snow. She’s breathing heavily, still looking at you straight in the eyes. “Thanks.” She says, weakly.
“Um, no problem.” You reply.
Then a smile is drawn on her face, she hugs you. “How’d you know? How could you even know? We were out in the boonies!” She yells.
She lets go of the hug and looks at you straight in the eyes, tears fall from her face. “Are you like, omniscient or something?”
“Omniscient?” You say, dumbfounded. What a weird adjective to think of.
“Yeah. Christ, I’m so glad you saved me. I thought that was it, I’d never see my mom again.” She wipes her tears away. “I’m Deborah, by the way, you can call me Debbie. How about you?”
“No-“ You are interrupted by a loud “Hey!” You recognise Superman’s voice, but it is angry and stern. “Let her go right now.”
You look at him surprised.
“Superman?!” Debbie yells.
He drops off another woman, who takes a few steps back as she looks at both you and Debbie.
“I said: Let her go.” Superman insists, pointing at you.
You drop the girl foot first so she can get her footing. She yells back at Superman with a chipper voice. “No, no! I’m fine! See!” She spins around. “He didn’t hurt me! He saved me!”
“I’m sorry miss, but he and I have to talk at length.” Superman says.
Debbie looks back at you. “Deborah Grayson, 15 Margarite Avenue in Staten Island.” She says in a low voice. “We could have coffee sometime, maybe?”
“Huh?” You utter, flabbergasted.
Superman comes inbetween you and her as she walks away from you. “Come with me miss. I’ll fly you both down to your base. Please pick your things up and get back home. You shouldn’t be climbing cliffsides without third-party assistance.” He says.
He then picks the both of them up and flies away. It takes him around five minutes to return.
His suit is still torn, the large bruise on his chest has turned purple, the blood on his chin dried up. He clenches his fists. “I’ll give you one opportunity to explain what the hell that was about.” He says.
>Write-in.
Since we’re pretty active, I’ll let you guys write something up and vote it in, just for the fun of it.
