Overwatch: Jinxed

Chapter One: Jinxed

Too bloody fast.

Isabell swung left and right. She was getting faster, but it was never fast enough. Nunchucks whirling around her, she was deflecting at least most of the plasma bullets.

But it wouldn't be enough, not until she was deflecting every last one.

But this would never get her into the big books.

Her almost-black brown hair in two small plaits in front of her ears and a ponytail behind her, purple goggles over her eyes and electric blue boots solidly planting her on the Holofloor, Isabell ducked under a volley of brightly shining blue bullets and swept left with her nunchucks, cleaving through them and sending them straight back where they came from.

"End simulation," she sighed, and the massive dome room flashed twice, before the blue bullets stopped coming and the room powered down.

Isabell slumped and walked out of the Simulator, looking around her ramshackle treehouse in the north Australian rainforests. Far from the irradiated Outback but close enough to still feel a ripple effect, Isabell's home was set into a massive, sturdy tree in the middle of a range of rainforest mountains that remained relatively untouched from the radiation. Isabell herself had been traveling with her parents when the radiation burst spiked, and had gotten a full blast - which had since killed her family because they were so close to it. But for some reason, Isabell had escaped any physical or mental radiation damage. She'd tried to figure it out, but couldn't - and since the North community strictly forbade any Junker from entering, Isabell had flown in with one of her inventions and set up her treehouse outside the cities.

It was well-made, with a balcony of pockmarked wood and three storeys. Attached to the east side was the Simulator, hidden from view by months of camouflaging and scanner hiding. On the bottom floor, into which Isabell had just walked, was a kitchen and living room - basically containing items she'd scavenged from dumps and stolen. A half-working oven, microwave, temperamental fridge, musty couch and old TV - it wasn't even a holoscreen. It was one of those old flat-screen technology ones. But it served its purpose.

The next level up was Isabell's favourite - where she kept all of her computers and everything she needed to both keep an eye on Overwatch and on organisations like Talon. Her network of computers, which she named Oswald, also helped run the Simulator and kept her updated on every tiny event which could have been connected to Overwatch. Along with her computers, it had her bench and tools and thousands of pieces of scrap metal and bits and pieces.

The third level was her observatory and bedroom as well as bathroom, with a running water system she'd devised herself, a massive telescope that someone had just thrown out even though it looks as though it would have cost years of pay. A small wooden bed, bookshelf (mostly with comics) and dozens of notepads.

Isabell opened a Sprite, hissing in her hand, and sighed. She walked over to the balcony off the first floor and looked over the top of the canopy at the city at the base of the mountain.

There was so much injustice here. Everywhere around her, all of it, it was breaking everyone. Overwatch had returned as vigilantes, yes, and that was making a huge difference. But it wasn't enough. Isabell had to do something herself - had to make a change. Because of their reputation as Junkers, even though half of them weren't, Australia had been largely ignored.

And they were hurting because of it.

But if Isabell couldn't even deflect the simulated bullets, how could she save the people around her? The rudimentary shields around the city could absorb a lot of energy, but--

Isabell's eyes widened.

Absorb.

All through the night, and half of the next day, Isabell worked. Sparks flew from her second floor, lights flickered. She worked until she could barely lift her hands, and then she worked even more. She'd run out of her daily ration of solar power, and then she burned through most of her emergency backup generator power.

Until they were perfect.

Two sets of electric blue and black nunchucks. Built not to deflect, but to absorb.

Three sets of three spikes on each baton, with perfect handholds in-between each spike, glowing electric blue bands, matching the blue streaks down her two plaits. Connected with a glinting silver chain she'd stolen from a towing yard and polished with more stolen stuff, with the power to smash concrete if she played off the angle correctly.

They attracted large amounts of energy, including kinetic - meaning that not just plasmic bullets, but ordinary ones could have their momentum and energy absorbed. If she played it right, maybe even sword-strikes and arrows. With their attracting abilities, it would make up for any small errors she made with her nunchucks - she knew she couldn't get it perfect, not ever, not like Genji could deflect. But he was practically a cyborg, so she had an excuse. Plus, the focal concentrators implanted into the ends of the nunchucks would be more powerful than any sword, katana or otherwise.

And a matching costume, with photo-plasmic containment bands to help hold in the power and spread it across a large area. Black leather with glowing electric blue circlets around her neck, arms and legs, and a belt to hold the heavy nunchucks. Her blue goggles enhanced to give her calculatory assistance and with zoom capabilities (and looking downright awesome, if Isabell was honest with herself). Made so roughly, it wouldn't hold forever, but once she collected what she collected the proper materials, Isabell would have an excellently functioning exoskeleton suit and matching nunchucks to wipe the people hurting Australia - and hell, the world - off the map of the universe.

Isabell grinned, and promptly passed out on the desk.