Two Speedsters Try To Stop A Mugging (Velocity)

Chase stood up, putting his hand on her chair as she advised. They walked out of the shop, and Chase lifted his cane, pointing it off to the left. "I'm pretty sure it's somewhere in that direction."

Chase saw the skinny boy brandishing a pistol, but thought nothing of it. What cunt would steal from two disabled people? Well, apparently this one would. As soon as they walked by, he put gun up to Samantha's head. In fear of the slight chance that any slide remark would cause him to pull the trigger, Chase waited until the gun was up to his head to say "You're literally stealing from two disabled people. Things must have gone down hill really fast for you to need to do this."

In a flash of swift movements, Chase yanked the gun away from him, dismantling it piece by piece to leave on the ground. He then knocked the first item out of his hand. The boy, most likely thinking this would be an easy steal, started to run, and Chase let him.

Chase turned to his right, already knowing what the look on Sam's face it, just doing it more out of habit from when he still had his sight. "Looks like I have a couple things to explain..."

Samantha spent the next few moment unable or unwilling to say anything. Her fingernails dug into the arms of her chair. She knew that this was the speedster from before. She also knew that he had been looking for her. It would be too great a coincidence otherwise.

"Y-you...your," she began to say, teeth clenched in a desperate attempt at keeping her cool. "How did you find me?" she finally asked. She could not bring herself to look Chase in the eyes, rage and resentment simmering just below the surface.

The next question Sam hissed: "What do you want from?"

Then she saw her stuff, dropped by the thief before he ran. Her pride chafed as she realized she would not be able to pick up her things without relying on this metahuman's aid. God, why did her life have to become so complicated...

Chase picked up her belongings and set them on her lap. There's no way in hell she's believing that I found her on accident, he thought as he contemplated on what he should do. Despite knowing she probably wouldn't believe him, he decided to be honest.

"I just sat down. I wanted to converse with someone, it just unluckily happened to be you..." Chase told her, almost resentful that he had to reveal it like this. He scratched head, thinking of what to say before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I knew it was you from the moment we started talking. You may try to disguise it, but I could hear the similarities between you and your alter ego."

"All I wanted was to learn why you hate me." Chase said, hesitating to place his hand on her shoulder to reassure her, ultimately deciding it would be best not to.

Seeing Chase return her possessions, Samantha tensed. She was reluctant to speak, but part of her knew the meta deserved that much. Hesitantly, she wispered, "Thank you." She was quiet and most would not have heard her.

Much as she had resisted speaking but knew she should have, Sam also wanted to just leave the man and knew he had not earned her ire. She looked up from time to time but for the most part failed to meet Chase's gaze. Sam had begun to feel a dull ache in the back of her skull.

Finally, the Tinker spoke. "I'm sorry," she began. After all, he had genuinely tried to be nice to her and she had acted absolutely vile. "I just have...issues with metahumans." She almost laughed at herself for saying it. Glancing up a little, Sam continued: "All the power you have, power you never had to work for. You just wake up one morning and suddenly you can reshape the world. On a whim!"

"Other people, people like me? We have to study and work our arses off to even dream of what you can do. But you?" Sam swept her hand in Chase's direction. "You just win the genetic lottery and decide to play 'Cops and bloody Robbers.'" Samantha laughed again. "And half the time you don't even know what you're doing."

Samantha looked away. She had allowed herself to vent but she did not know if she wanted to see Chase's reaction...

Chase stood through her ramblings, wanting to interject but not doing so. When she finished venting and was looking away, that's when he allowed himself to mumble "I don't think this is genetic..."

Quickly after doing so, Chase walked into her line of sight, crouching to the point that he would be looking into her eyes if he had sight. He removed his glasses to reveal his eyes, pale irises showing that he was indeed blind, hoping that it would make him sound much more sincere. "You hate me because I'm a meta? Maybe you had to work harder to get power similar to mine, but you still got it. If you're interest is in the lives of people, how you obtained your powers shouldn't matter. If not, maybe it is reasonable to fixate on something like that."

Chase paused, breathing deeply in and out, almost exasperatedly. "I'm going to level with you. All this-" Chase paused to put his hands up in a way to signify he meant himself "-this hero stuff is just me following my moral compass. Whether I know what I'm doing or not doesn't matter as long as I know I've saved lived."

Chase stood back up, putting his glasses back on and placing his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "We all have tribulations, even those born wtih excessive luck." With that said, he removed his hand, slowly walking away.

Samantha was silent for a time. She had even tensed up as Chase's hand came to rest on her shoulder, though she tried to hide it. And she found herself peering up at the boy as he turned to leave.

Then she mumbled, more to herself than Chase, "And where are we left when your 'moral compass' isn't enough to save us?"

The engineer would quickly put away the things Chase had returned to her. Then she would spin her chair 180 degrees and head away. Sam was unsure where she was headed but she knew she had to clear her head.

Chase heard the comment, despite Sam only mumbling to herself. A tear trickled down his face, which he wiped away quickly. "When that happens, I'll try to save others to compensate for it." He muttered, only audible to himself.

He was fully aware the comment wasn't meant to be heard, but he still did. His thoughts drifted to the bank robber he tried to stop. The guy had hostages. Chase made a mistake and it had cost them their lives. The innocent blood of six people are on my hands he thought in gloom.

Chase was faster now. If the same thing were to happen now, he would be more than competent enough -- not only to make sure no civilians died, but also to be able to respond without giving into the demands of 'villains'.

Despite his attempt to comfort himself in his mistakes, his mound was still clouded. He needed to get them off his mind. Thinking of no better way than to do so, he started running, zipping through the city, trying to distract himself from his guilt.