3.14

3.14

10:43 AM, 22th April, 1989.

Location: Keystone City

I woke up, itching to go and do something. For once it wasn't to mangle easy targets. I winced even thinking about how close to the edge I had been. Flash is a true friend. I made sure to give him my phone number and address if he wanted to visit. When he pointed out he couldn't afford the plane ticket, I mentioned he could 'probably' run on water.

I haven't seen him since. It could be work, but I'd also believe he's gone on a world trip for the day.

For myself I hang out for the day, just seeing the city and countryside. And it is quiet as a church mouse. The strangest thing was a man dressed like a stage magician. He seemed to recognise me, because he gave a double take and looked shocked. I wasn't prepared to give out autographs, so I left him while he tried to hide his nervousness by pretending to be busy, fiddling with his watch and ducking around a corner while peeking at me.

With no Flash and no rampaging villains, I decided to search the phone book for the mysterious Miss Goldie White. Far from being hard, she was right there: name and address.

Being direct was the best option, to avoid wasted time. Her home was a small apartment in Central City, near a bakery. I rang the buzzer and waited.

"Yeah, what do you want?" She asked blearily through the intercom.

"I'm inquiring about your health and current state on behalf of your brother." I answered.

"Really? That bastard cares? Who would have thought." She answered with some cheer. "Okay, come up. I'll buzz you in."

The stairwell was tiresome, so I floated up the stairs.

"You're really young." She finally admitted as she opened her door for me.

"I'm just a concerned stranger. Your brother hinted you might have powers." I smiled as she began to frown. Bingo.

"I… I don't know what you're talkin' ab..." I pointed down, prompting her to look at the fact I was levitating a few inches off the ground.

"I am not going to judge or accuse you of anything. Can you tell me the nature of your powers? The history lesson I got on your family tree was rather… sparse on details and similarities." I offered gently.

"Okay…? Look, just come in and we'll talk about this." She answered, at first stunned before moving to hasty.

I floated inside and was lead to a living room and seated at a couch.

"So… my brother sent you because you have powers?" She asked.

"Partly, mostly because he was worried about you. He also said to tell you your father died late last year." I explained.

"Oh. We weren't really very close, so don't expect me to burst into tears about it..." She said, finally.

"No, we all have our issues. So do you care enough to tell me about your powers? I won't make trouble for you. And there is no requirement for you to tell me. But I have friends all over the place with powers and some political pull if you need it. Not to mention significant personal power." I elaborated.

"Um… if I tell you can I ask you to help me with my problem?" She finally asked.

"Fine. If it is within my ability, anyway." I answered.

"I'm being stalked." She explained. Well, she wasn't ugly. A relatively active looking twenty year old in nice clothes and cute face. I could believe it.

"Okay. How creepy is this guy?" I asked, to get an idea of what I was dealing with.

"I met him one day on the train, ever since I saw him every day waiting for me to go to work. I think he followed me to work and home. He's learned my work schedule. Since then I stayed home rather than went out, but he's watching. He assaulted one of my work friends when he came to visit." She shuddered.

"Got it. He's obsessed." I swept the surroundings with my senses and one thing struck me as odd.

"Your phone… has some extra electronics." I pointed out.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

I walked over and unscrewing the mouthpiece withdrew a device. "He's been bugging your phone calls too. Is the phone new? If not it means he broke into your home at some point. If you didn't notice you have had a break in, he must know how to pick locks or found a way to copy your keys."

"Shit! It's been here since I moved in several months back." She exclaimed, looking horrified.

"Depending on just how sick the guy is and how badly he reacts to confrontation, I'll put a stop to this in one of a number of ways." I offered. "So now that I'm going to be confronting your stalker, do you feel up to telling me about your special talent?"

"Hardly!" She snorted. "My power just scrubs things I touch. Useful as a dishwasher… otherwise it is pointless."

Not quite what I expected.

"How hard can you scrub objects?" I asked curious.

"Uh… dunno. I always figured it was just an on and off kinda thing." She admitted sheepishly. She picked up an apple from a fruit basket and carefully tried to use greater force. Peeling the apple, then pulping it into juice with a buzzing noise.

"Can you do that to a person?" I asked.

"Y...yeah. I use it to scrub in the bath..." She explained, slightly terrified of her own power.

"It seems at the lowest level it's harmless, so don't panic. But yeah, that upper level you showed off would be lethal." I finally admitted. "Can you go harder?"

"Yes." She admitted.

"Can you control the range and power exerted across the object, to shape it? It could be used for sculpture, for example." I asked, offering a useful application of her powerset.

"I… maybe?" She finally said.

"Do you need to use your hands? Or is it contact with any body part?" I asked, curious.

"All over." This admission scared her.

"Can you use it to protect yourself from attacks?" I asked.

"I don't know!" She shouted, anxious.

I floated a coil of wire free. "Try to stop this from touching or grabbing you."

She looked wide-eyed for a moment before complying as it moved slowly closer, with a serious expression on her face. When the wire would have made contact, the leading edges vaporised.

Holy crap.

"You aren't Dishwasher Girl, you're Disintegration Girl." I announced, somewhat shocked. "High frequency vibration seems to be your power. I've heard of people using that to pass through walls. But yours seems more powerful. You could just grind the wall to dust."

"I… don't know what to say." She finally admitted.

"Frankly… I don't either. You're living sandpaper."