Plaza Repairs 2 (Again?!) Open

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Well, this sucked.[break][break]

No, not the disaster zone that was their plaza. She knew what to expect when she heard the news. As annoying as the sight was, it wasn’t the first time she’d seen it. She doubted it would be the last either. Still, she wasn’t there to mourn the lives lost or bemoan the damage done. As the camera hanging from her neck could attest. She was there to document the student heroes of UA, showing that they didn’t need a qualification to do their job.[break][break]

Except the students – plural – were nowhere to be seen. She eyed one teenager; a face she vaguely recalled from the school’s halls. It was hard to miss Unity – a pleasant surprise, but a welcome one. Beyond that, she saw little more than civilians. A sorry scene to film, and not one that would help her cause. Disappointment rested on her face. Then irritation.[break][break]

Some work would need to be done.[break][break]

The girl pulled out her phone. Between her casual summer wear, her camera, and her sudden texting spree, she played the part of a clueless civilian well. After a few minutes of tapping, she turned her back to the plaza, holding her phone up for the perfect destruction selfie. If anybody peered over, they’d see her unamused face covering half of the wrecked square in her phone’s screen. More rapid texting followed; her fellow student only had to look at the school’s chatroom to put the pieces together.[break][break]

Perhaps the boy had already tried – and failed – to rally support. Maybe help was already on the way. Or, worst of all, apathy had struck the student body. Doubtful, the girl thought, and so she gave it her own attempt.[break][break]

A few minutes later (and a few promises of free food sent out), the phone was stashed back inside her bag – as was the camera she apparently wasn’t going to be using any time soon. She may not have arrived with hero work in mind, but she was still a hero student, and one that needed to set an example. Emi pulled her ammunition out of the bag – palm-sized balls that could easily be mistaken for bath bombs. It barely took a squeeze of her palms for them to collapse into grains of salt, but before gravity could make them touch the ground, the winds of her will swept them up, sending them swirling around her torso. No doubt, somebody would have words to share regarding her blatant quirk usage, but nothing on her face showed concern or care for it.[break][break]

Instead, her gaze was on a downed statue, having partially blocked the footpath. Casual steps took to the base of the bronze dog. A hand reached out, with no chance of reaching the figure, but she didn’t have to. The movement was seemingly enough to send the grains out to greet the dog. Wisps of salt in the air doubled, then tripled, into a flurry of white specks, only for them to rush together another the statue. The end result was a statue encased in oversized salt crystals, giving Emi the leverage she needed to lift it off the ground. All without a single touch.[break][break]

“Alright! If we don’t have enough people around to fix things up, the least we can do is start cleaning up. Make the area at least safe to walk through when the crews start working.” She didn’t look at anybody as she was speaking, but her voice was loud enough to draw a few ears. Or at least, she hoped. Her eyes were on the statue, which called for a lot more focus than she’d thought. Who knew that statues were so heavy?[break][break]

Not heavy enough to make her fail, thankfully. The statue was placed upright beside the platform it once stood upon. It would take more tools than she had (and more construction work than she cared for), to affix it properly, but for the moment, she had done the best she could do.[break][break]

And that was what heroes were all about, right?

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Ah, the power of texts. And bribes. Mostly bribes, but Emi preferred to believe her words still held some sway. Support arrived – in at least one case, literally. A young girl that had to be a student arrived, but judging by her apology to the boy now known as Desmoshi, she had to assume that the sushi hadn’t summoned her. Then there was the possum, who was likely doing his job… And she certainly hadn’t called on a masked man, although she’d keep a stray eye on him…
Maybe her words weren’t enough after all. A shame.[break][break]

Folded arms and an annoyed look directed themselves at nobody in particular. While the adults busied themselves talking, Emi set herself back to her task. Strange, how nobody had called out her blatant and seemingly unauthorized quirk use, but if they weren’t going to complain then neither was she. Their talk would eventually end in the students being given the green light, all the while Emi continued whizzing her element around her. Clumps of cubic crystals acted as makeshift scoops, brooms and claws to move debris aside, all without dirtying her hands.[break][break]

The others only gave her a few reasons to pause. Emi quirked an eyebrow at the offerings the stuttering underclassman had brought along. Desmoshi had referred to the girl as Kiersa, which matched the name of a student she’d rallied in the chat… And yet, not only had the girl gone to him first, but she’d brought meals after Emi had offered a meal to those that came to help.[break][break]

It must have been a coincidence. Or a mistake. Definitely not a slight against her. Of course not. Why would somebody go so far out of their way to show her up? She tried to rid herself of the thoughts, but remnants lingered, adding to what was already shaping up to be a bad mood. Whatever. She wasn’t on the scene to make friends. She was there to help, and perhaps get some footage. And so she’d do just that, sending her quirk to whisk a slab of pavement out of the road-
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Desmoshi pointed at her. Him, a second year, felt the need to tell her, UA’s only student reporter, how to do her job. As if she would have brought a DSLR for any reason besides documenting the heroic response. She stared at the boy. No, rather, she gave him a very restrained glare. A long, steady inhale stopped her short of voicing thoughts she’d regret speaking in front of pros and peers alike. “Yeah. I mean, I definitely wasn’t planning to do that.” Too sarcastic, she realised too late. Being straight suited her much better. “Actually, no, it was. Kinda weird for you to assume I would do anything but that. Little bit condescending, but mostly confusing. Why don’t we focus on fixing things instead?”
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The cynicism hadn’t completely left her voice, but it was close enough to gone in her mind. “If somebody wants to help me get the road clear, we can make things a lot easier for when the construction crew starts rolling in.” She continued to do just that – trying to make the path at least slightly resemble a safe route. It was, of course, a task much easier said than done. Chunks of upturned cement, fallen lights knocked down bins had littered the area with glass, garbage and the like. They had their work cut out for them, to say the least.

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