Victoria Dallon, Edgelord Extraordinaire

Summary: I AM THE NIGHT!

It was a well known fact that parahumans are, by the very nature of their existence, weird people. Most of them were insane, one way or another, because they had never quite recovered from whatever traumatic experience had granted them their powers. Perhaps less so in the case of 'second generation' triggers, but still notably insane, the lot of them.

Sometimes, it manifested in violent spurts of anger that resulted in unstoppable rampages. Sometimes it made someone completely obsessed with any given thing that caught their fancy.

However, for some, it just made them... dumb.

The heroine of the night crouched, still, her costume cool and dry despite the humid and heavy weather. Her cape, dark as the night, fluttered dramatically in the air behind her as she surveyed-

"Vicky can you stop narrating to yourself?" her cousin, Laserdream, AKA Crystal Pelham, said, frustration evident in her voice.

The heroine didn't listen, for she had to keep her eyes and ears peeled and tuned to the-

"Look there's someone mugging a nice old lady right there!"

It was true!

The Heroine jumped, deciding that the night was too young to fly. She landed next to the old lady, scaring the bajeezus out of her, while the thug used that momentary distraction to take off running with the old lady's bag. The Heroine wasted no time, easily catching up with the inferior thug and tackling him to the ground. He was a contemptible existence, a leech, a worm, squirming in the mud, feeding upon the carcasses of his superiors, and-

"Look can you just... take me to prison or something? I'd take jail over having to listen to her pretentious bullshit any day," the mugger begged Laserdream, who just smiled amusedly.

"Oh, hell now, I've had to put up with it all day, so now that I can weaponize it, you're damn right I'm gonna weaponize it!"

-for she was the representative of Truth, Justice, and the revenge of the downtrodden upon their... uh... trodders?

"You need to buy a thesaurus dear," the nice old granny said. "Would you like some cookies? I was taking them to my grandaughter's house but since you saved me I can spare a few."

The heroine, who was much too cool to accept outright, pretended to refuse the delicious cookies, as she could never accept a reward for doing what was her rightful duty, yet secretly the intoxicating smell of freshly baked cookies was beginning to drive her mad, for the nice granny was really an excellent baker, but the heroine was a tortured and duty driven soul, who could not-

"Well if stuffing her face full of cookies makes her stop, I think we know who the real hero here is," the mugger said.

"Amen to that," Crystal said, all three laughing while 'The heroine' continued to enjoy the delicious cookies. "You're still going to jail though."

"Fair enough... can I have a cookie though? They smell REALLY good."

"Of course dear," the Granny said.

And then the cops came, and they too had some cookies. They were really that good. Triple chocolate chip, man!