@thats-my-bad || flashpoint brisco ( vibe!bree )
Wally was out there alone against that psycho with a stupid nickname. She had been practising during the night shift when no one was around--she didn’t only make toys for Wally but also, maybe, deviated this and that here and there to make herself a suit, just in case it was ever needed--not that she had anything to prove herself.
She usually stood behind, did nothing but patch up Wally and his suit while adjusting her glasses and pretending to be just the nerd who had been at the peace corps before getting the R&D scholarship and job here. She wasn’t a meta since birth, or at least no one suspected she was.
But there was something off about that day, something that smelled awfully like a trap and she decided to dawn her suit, pull her hair up in a bum, cover it with the hoodie and put on the goggles--and just in time to send that good-for-nothing metahuman away from Wally when he was going to give him the last touch of dead.
Unfortunately the guy had hurt her--not that badly but enough to make her scream and lose her focus--before taking off.
But Wally was safe and she stormed off before he could recognize her and headed back to the lab, painfully removing the coat and flinching at the not so small gauge in her arm, “bloody hell, how am I going to hide this?” she muttered under her breath before turning around to grab the first aid kit, too focused in the pain from her arm to realize someone else was in the room.