Miss Murmur has been evading capture from the city's guardians for the better part of a decade now, her abilities of manipulation potent enough to make the most powerful of wills buckle and submit to her control. Most wind up back out on the street with a fresh headache and no memories of their confrontation with the villainess, making tracking her a logistical nightmare. Many of the tech savvy heroes would try and use their gadgets to record the showdown and pinpoint Cassandra, but they would always find their technology turned against them minutes before their minds follow suit. A petty criminal who uses her tricks to perfectly avoid detainment, she's lucky to never find herself a high priority for this city's superhuman protectors nor its vigilant watchdogs. 

Unfortunately for Miss Murmur, not all heroes are in the big leagues these days. With more and more gifted individuals awakening to their powers every year, some are still developing their abilities or are simply too weak, busy, scared or otherwise unsuited for the role of taking down the bigger threats. Take me for example, I've cultivated a life of blending into the background like acrylic white on canvas. I only awakened to my powers a couple of months ago and had just started college a few before that. The last thing I need right now is to lose my life trying to save the city from some extraterrestrial dictator, or worse, have my identity exposed in the midst of a bloody battle.

No, I've learnt not to get in over my head ever since my debut into the public eye, in which I played the hero just a little too well and landed myself on the front page of The Rising Star, a publication showcasing the latest up and coming supers who fancy themselves as the hero type. It's not only majorly embarrassing, but comes with an unspoken contract that I'll be actively expanding my duties in the name of a cleaner city, or some such measure of guilt tripping that led me to this moment. 

I stand in front of a classroom in the bright red, yellow and green costume I had still been workshopping when it went viral and unceremoniously became my brand. Oh the horror, I'm the city, no the world's scrappiest superhero. I'm at an elementary school telling little tykes to brush their teeth and eat their veggies if they want to grow up as healthy and strong as a superhero. Of course the script they suggested 'as a guideline' includes a gag-worthy line about an apple a day keeping the doctor away. The timeless adage that attached itself to my brand just as unwillingly, #anappleaday starts trending whenever I find myself in the local news cycle for some inconspicuous good deed captured on a bystander's phone. My mind wanders back to Murmur, a sore spot for even the biggest names, her expert dismissal of the law without a trace is a hit to the pride of cop and hero alike. Her crimes are small but the ego of a superhero, not to mention a street cop, is massive. 

If I were to bring a villain such as her to justice all by myself, I'd be well respected. My promotion from teaching children their five a day to a household name would be a blink or you'll miss it affair. It'd be all too easy with my abilities and she's not a dangerous crook by any means, that's what I call low risk with high reward!

But I digress. While it may be a nice daydream, I'd be doing the opposite of what I had initially set out to do. I'm trying not to blow up any more than I already have, I've put a lot of work into blending in and not calling attention to myself... at least I had until recently, any more and I'll have to say goodbye to my normal college life. Like many before me, I bury those ambitious thoughts with sand until they sink into the deep recesses of my mind. I turn my thoughts back to the starry eyed kids sat in rows before me, some sketching their own imagined hero costumes.

"And that's why it's important to always say no to strangers!" 

Ugh. 

"Soooo, how'd it go?" My best friend Laura prods me out of my own little world with a flimsy plastic fork. I wince at the feeling of pasta sauce flecked onto my cheek and use Laura's napkin to wipe it, before processing her actual question.

"Huh? How did what go?" We're currently in our college campus' library eating lunch between seminars, though my appetite is lacking. All those talks I've been collared into doing about healthy eating and such have made me uncomfortably aware of my poor diet. At first I thought those recommended portion sizes were a cruel joke made to shame me into starvation, but it turns out that you waste most of the food you eat in excess after all. Who knew?

"Don't play coy, Joy!" Laura threatens to assault me with more specks of sauce as her fingers motion the soft plastic. 

"Oh, right. Um, did you mean to rhyme there?" Is all I can say to delay the inevitable...

"Stop stalling bitch, gimme the deetz. Was he the tall dark and handsome to your uh, short pale and plain?"

"Ouch. No, he wasn't quite right for me... I said I'd call back but I know I won't." Another lie, it's become a concerningly smooth ritual for me at this point. In a town filled with supers it only seems suspicious when a college girl my age never wants to go out with anybody or even hang out in the dorm, so I made myself a romantic vagabond in search of young love, or some such nonsense. If I pretended to have a boyfriend the lie would get complicated fast, but a series of failed first dates is enough to cover up my heroic nightlife. It does have one slight drawback, however... 

"Ice queen strikes again. You're one cold mistress, Joy. Give the poor boys a chance, give up on that Mr. Perfect he ain't coming." Laura likes to tease me about the perceived harshness in my swift sentencing of these imagined men. If only I were so talented in rejection, I might not find myself pushed around so easily as my alter ego. 

The rest of the day is as quiet and peaceful as I had hoped my college life to be. This is as it's supposed to be, the calm before the storm. Joy can live in Joy, while Orchard helps ease her conscience by lending a helping hand at night. Sleep? That comes sparingly, in bits and pieces sprinkled throughout the busy week.

Huh. If I keep following my own advice I may need to drop a uniform size, I'm not sure if being a little slimmer is worth the cost of commissioning another costume. This one already had me teetering into my overdraft, trying to be a superhero on a college maintenance loan is a slow dance on a knife's edge. Damn bespoke outfitters have jacked up their prices due to increasing demand, how gross to capitalise on the emergence of what is essentially volunteer work. I do have a license to show I'm no unlawful vigilante, but any money I make is from tips. Being a superhero is a lot like working any other shitty job in this country, except I get to feel more important. Sometimes I can't help but laugh at how ridiculous we all are. 

I finish slipping into my costume, which often gets compared to a fictional sidekick character on account of its colours. I work alone, but people still see me as more of a sidekick... I really am the world's scrappiest superhero. That being said, on some nights the occasion may call for a temporary alliance between the smaller heroes for crisis such as fires or amateur bank robberies. This is one such night, in fact, as I quickly find myself partnering with a couple of veteran small-time do-gooders!

"Orchard, long time no see." Mutters black cowl from within their coiled miasma of rags. "My apologies, I seem to have chased a van of escaped convicts into your territory." 

I always feel slightly unnerved by this one, but they're polite and respectful which is more than I can say for the other hero waiting for you on this corner. "Oh, right uh. You have my assistance, do they have any weapons with them?"

"They're armed to the fucking teeth!" And there's the third wheel. Cowl had not called for them, yet here they are. She must have been listening to the police radio or simply following the sound of chaos in the quiet streets from a few blocks over. "Raided a hobby store near the asylum walls after they bust out. Soooo they're all packing air rifles."

"Evening, Firefly." Black Cowl curtly nods, tracking the van's current course with their 'Shadow Sight'. An ability that allows them to track anything they have left their shadow on. As I soon realise when only two shadows are cast by the dim streetlamp above our heads. 

Firefly throws her arm around my neck and gives us a toothy grin. While Black Cowl unnerves me, it's Firefly's irksome overfamiliarity that really gets on my nerves. It is no great wonder why I am the only one being requested at schools... they're even theming a junior first aid kit after me... of course I won't see a lick of those licencing fees due to the second rate agency I joined for this street license. 

"Wait, did you say Air Rifles? They're just shooting pellet guns?" I try to hide my relief, masking it with a mocking tone. It's not like Firefly to get so worked up over something so trivial.

"Might I suggest some eye protection? We may shrug off measly pellets with our costumes' reinforced fibres, but our eyes are very much vulnerable." Black Cowl is pragmatic as ever, if painfully tedious.

"You don't get it, I recognise the guy leading those morons. He's the dude you put away that night you went viral, Orchard." Firefly slips away from me and crosses her arms, pacing on the sidewalk. "The freaking laser one!"

Oh shit. This guy is bad news. I stumbled into a victory against him on my first week because I caught him off guard and he was exhausted from fleeing Nova, one of the city's biggest names. His body produced a high volume of concentrated helium gas which he can fire like a laser cutter. It looks terrifying but is actually less harmful than you may think, he definitely lacks the stopping power of Superman's eye lasers. Reality is often stranger than fiction, however, and Curtis Cruise aka 'Crazy Cutter' has more cunning than a Kryptonian.

"The Van is north of here. It's not moving, I think this man is waiting for you. He may not have been fleeing me, but pursuing the one who caused his arrest in the first place." Black Cowl leads your trio cautiously, slowly approaching the parked Van as it sits in wait in front of the school I had been giving a talk at only hours ago. I feel a mix of anger and despair, am I really being sought after for revenge? Am I fated to be dragged into danger even when I spend every waking second taking the appropriate means to avoid it. This constant push and pull is getting me nowhere, I should try to embrace my secret identity to the fullest or quit outright... for now, I just need to survive the night. 

"Want me to kill them for you, Orchard?" Firefly sees my internal struggle, she has a way of seeing right through me just like my best friend Laura...

"N-no, of course not!" I shake my head profusely, watching as the van doors swing open, roughly ten inmates springing out from the back and one poking out of the passenger side. 

"Pff, just kidding, frowns just don't suit you... makes me wanna gut the bastards that're making you upset." The blonde haired vigilante hero pulls her sleeveless jacket open, revealing a combat vest lined with more knives than a con artist's briefcase. 

Without so much as a passing greeting on this chilly night, the escaped convicts open fire with their pressurised pellet guns and we brace for impact. Black Cowl recalls their shadow from the Van's, using it to trip the escapees as their fingers squeeze the triggers. They fire into the air, the pellets sailing over our heads in a flash. Before I can feel any sense of relief for the quick save, I hear a sharp series of blasts before searing pain assaults me from above, singing holes into my reinforced costume. 

"Ack! Wh-what the hell was that?" Firefly grimaces in pain, almost losing her balance. Black Cowl, for their part, seems unfazed... though you can see that they too are afflicted. 

I step towards the criminals, needing to finish this quickly before they have a chance to do that again.

"Not a step closer, Orchard." A gruff voice sounds from the driver's seat, before I see the face of Curtis Cruise himself staring daggers at me like I ruined his life... oh wait. "No hard feelings, well maybe some. You other two need to buzz off, I ain't supposed to kill supers that don't get in my way but this runt has it coming."

I had assumed this was just a routine breakout, nothing more, but it seems he has orders not to kill. I'm sure his revenge on me will be a complete accident, or an act of self defence. How convenient, though I worry if this man's boss is some criminal overlord who will seek to wipe me out once I'm seen as a threat. This is precisely the type of situation I've been working to avoid. 

"Their ammunition is supercharged, meaning it will explode into lasers when passing us. Dodging is not an attainable outcome." 

"Heh, your friend figured me out. Well that ain't all, I'm grateful you gave me time to prepare. I've surrounded the area with traps, so much as touch something I've charged and it'll rip holes into you. Careful where you step." Curtis snorts, pointing his calloused finger at me with a cold look. "Kill her."

"Hey, Orchard." Firefly puts a hand on my shoulder, smirking. "I could totally waste these guys but I'd probably fill the hospital, so do your thing." 

I smile, despite my scrappiness and my dreams of peace, I'm actually perfect for times like this. The convicts take aim at me and move to pull the triggers of their pitiful rifles. 

The pellets shoot out to hit hard oak. A shiny, round apple falls from one of the trees and rolls towards the men's feet. They look around in confusion, at their unfamiliar surroundings. Were they not in a gloomy city street only a moment ago? Now they find themselves within an idyllic orchard. 

"Your bodies are completely immobilised, my roots are sapping them as we speak. Don't worry, the police are already on their way. You can't escape unless I want you to, or if somebody else removes the roots." I exhale, feeling a little heavy as I keep the criminals confined within my orchard. I always get a migraine the next day when I confine this many people within the orchard. Still, this was another crisis averted by my gracious gift. This power is perfect for me, someone who wishes to avoid conflict and confrontation. This way, so long as an enemy is within my roots range, their mind and body can be severed. Even the mightiest foe is useless without their body, without their powers... 

...or so I thought. 

To my surprise, Curtis Cruise begins to laugh. Not the hysterical laugh of a loser backed into a corner and unable to accept their defeat, but one of triumph and satisfaction. "You're out of time, bitch."

Huh? 

"I'll be living it up after I get out, even if I do have to accept surgery to nullify my power. It served me well one last time, you dumb slut. As a distraction." 

"A what? You've got to be kidding me, seriously?" I feel a serious headache coming on. 

"Miss Murmur, I assume you've heard of her? She's paying me a small fortune for this distraction, it seems that whatever she's stealing is worth even more. What do I care? I'm set for life, once I've served. Go ahead and arrest us now, we won't be repeat offenders this time we promise." 

I release the roots around Curtis and his crew's feet as the cops take them away, the 'Crazy Cutter' giving a hearty laugh. I wonder if humiliating me like this is a more satisfying revenge than coldblooded murder? Certainly more profitable, he's acting like he just won the lottery. None of those men ever intended to actually escape, they were well paid and loyal to their own greed.