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Paragon Part 1

By

Charles E. Terrell Jr. aka Nightmask

To one not used to it the crush of bodies and clash of sounds generated by the teaming sea of humanity packed within the confines of New York City would prove overwhelming to most dropped down into the midst of such chaos. From street vendors trying to sell their wares to the constant mix of voices and the sounds of construction that never stopped assaulting ones ears to the blending of smells that can only come from so many living in such confined circumstances ones senses quickly dulled in order to deal with it all. The milling masses frequently bouncing into and off of each other as the concept of personal space virtually vanished due to the circumstances, making the single hole in that otherwise homogenous mass all the more obvious.

It certainly wasn't her outfit that caused her to stand out to everyone, fashionable though it was. A snug-fitting pair of sturdy brown pants with carry pouches on the outer thighs tucked into a matching pair of boots that just came up below her knees clad her shapely hips, with a V-neck white shirt tucked into the waistline and displaying her ample endowments to the curious without embarrassment. Even the matching brown jacket she wore wasn't so out of place, nor the white wrist-length gloves that covered her hands, and the waist-length silver hair that spilled over her shoulders was well-kept.

Indeed what brought about that area of emptiness about her was related solely to her non-human nature than anything to do with how she was dressed, for Theresa was a most rare sight indeed even for the jaded senses of the average New Yorker: an anthropomorphic mouse of striking features. Five foot-six inches in height and to the uninformed apparently a healthy 139 lbs or so from the generous form of her curves. The fur peeking out around her clothes was a pale orange in color save where the V-cut to her t-shirt revealed a patch of silver matching that of her hair nestled between her breasts. Even her nearly six foot long tail was clad in soft orange fur lending it more of the appearance of a feline's rather than a mouse's save for the distinctly rodent cast to her head and ears.

While she strode along confidently the mixed feelings regarding her being an island standing out in that sea of humanity played out within her mind. It wasn't as if these were the humans who created her, she reminded herself each time she felt a twinge of anger or misplaced aggression whenever something brought back the painful memories of the world she was created on. It was little comfort though given the way that they pulled away from her and left her inside her own little zone of isolation; this in spite of the fact that the city was virtually the capital of strangeness with the bewildering array of superhumans and aliens that visited it or called it home. Maybe she should relocate to that city she'd heard of on the other coast that was said to be most accommodating to those who were strange, Los Angeles.

Not that it was likely to do her any good, all things considered. Ever since some showboating led to a botched apprehension of a superhuman serial killer and the deaths of hundreds of people including a large number of children the humans had been mindless in their outrage over it and wrongly seeking to blame everyone who laid claim to being a super-hero for it. It was making her efforts to settle down on this Earth more and more difficult and was echoing her world's own laws and social segregation where those like her were little more than tools considered undeserving of the same rights and protections as their creators. For a country founded on so many rights it seemed likely it would backslide to when people were treated as little more than animals simply for the color of their skin only instead of skin color it would be whether or not they weren't the arbitrary definition of 'normal' touted by some.

The tantalizing odor of one of the corner vendors derailed Theresa from her dark thoughts, her nose twitching as it sifted through the stink of thousands of humans and their associated messes to zero in on where it was coming from. While it was several blocks away she had little trouble winding her way through the crowds to find the specific vendor that had caught her attention. Why couldn't he be on a quieter corner? She groused a bit to herself, rather than on one where some heavy construction on a new building was underway. Just because she was built to tolerate noise levels considerably higher than that didn't mean she liked it after all.

"I'd like one of those please, with the works," she purred huskily to the mature black man working the concession stand once those ahead of her were out of the way.

"What's the deal with the costume? You some kind of freak?" was the response she got, rather than what she'd hoped for.

"It's not a costume it's me, and no I'm not a freak, so can I get a hot dog now?" she replied, exasperated. Her tail twitched behind her as she tried not to let her annoyance show: no point blowing the chance at getting one responding in kind.

"You some kind of super-hero? Like Spider-man?" he asked before he started preparing her order, recovering from his initial surprise and decades of service taking over to settle into his normal routine tossing together one of his large, foot-long hot dogs to his customer's satisfaction.

"I help where I can," she admitted, eyes more on the hot dog rather than anything else while she idly calculated the odds of running across the rare chatty street vendor like she just had.

"I once served Thor a hot dog, said it was the best thing he'd had this side of the Golden Realm, whatever that is," he proudly proclaimed while holding the finished hot dog out to Theresa. "That'll be five dollars."

"Thor? One of your many gods?" she asked while fishing a five-dollar bill out of her jacket pocket, placing it in his other hand in exchange for the hot dog. She'd barely had the money handed over to him before she was taking a bite out of it savoring the taste as she munched on it.

"Yeah, said he's one of those Viking gods. Don't know if it's true but he certainly had a feeling about him that you wanted to believe it was true."

Theresa gave a nod to show she was listening, waiting until she had a few more bites of the hot dog before commenting, "They just don't have anything like this where I come from."

"Ain't no place got dogs for sale like I do," he bragged, a salesman's instinct to tout the superiority of his product quickly triggered by the opening she unintentionally provided.

"No doubt," Theresa noted with amusement before her expression grew clouded as the comment brought about memories of her home Earth and how beings such as herself were almost as for sale as a vendor's wares on the corner of the street. Someday she would have to find a way to end that, but that day was far into the future and today was to relax as she continued to grow accustomed to this Earth she'd come to.

Their conversation came to an end as the boldest of the others waiting in line behind her moved forward, just enough to draw the vendor's attention with something far more important to him than satisfying his curiosity about the non-human before him: money. With his focus turned towards the new customer Theresa slipped around him still munching away on her hot dog, being mindful not to get anything on her clean outfit. She was just finishing up and tossing the protective wrapper into a nearby trash can when the sound of overstrained metal assaulted her hearing, prompting her to look about to track down the source.

"Damn! What were they thinking?!" she exclaimed as she watched the super-structure of the building underway nearby starting to collapse sending men and equipment tumbling to the ground. Rivets were shearing off under the strain as a poorly supported section gave way and the stresses spread as more and more was drawn into the fray.

Without a moment to lose she pushed her way through the crowd of gawking onlookers, too stupid or too frozen in fear to flee the obvious danger from the collapsing structure. Reflexes designed to allow for instant reaction under the most difficult of combat experiences setting her on her way the moment the crisis was evident. Deterrent though it might have been to many the chain link fence screening off the work site barely slowed her down at all as she took hold of it and ripped it apart. The rain of metal and the deadly threat it represented went unheeded as she tried to locate where the humans involved in the construction were ending up at.

There was barely time enough for her to cover one of the closest to her before the spot was showered with debris; chunks of broken metal and concrete bouncing off her back and piling up around the two of them as she did what she could to minimize the injury done to him. In a minute the worst of it was over, although in that time-lapsed nature of things it seemed go on for hours before she heard nothing more than the sounds of the already collapsed structure slowly settling with the occasional skitter of smaller pieces shifting about.

Flakes of concrete dust and metal clung to her hair and outfit as she pushed the material up and away from her and the unconscious human she'd shielded. From the looks of him he'd taken much of his injury from the fall he'd taken rather than the falling debris, although she lacked the more in depth medical knowledge to tell more than that. Rising upright once again she surveyed the disaster surrounding her, taking careful note of what was still standing and trying to work out just how stable it was. She had no idea how many might have been working the site but she wasn't going to leave anyone, even humans, to die if she could help it.

"Hey, you! What do you think you're doing?!" came a shouted voice from behind her, back towards the foreman's shack. Turning to look behind her she took note of a somewhat overweight human with deeply tanned skin standing in the doorway to the shack. "Already called Fire and Rescue to come help! Don't need no freaks messing things up!"

"Then you'd better shut up and let me get to whoever's still alive while they're still saveable," she replied coldly, tail lashing around in annoyance. "That is after you tell me how many you had working here so I know how many I need to find," she ordered, her gaze so filled with malice at that moment it promptly shut down the human's blustering and left him drawing back in terror.

"Uh, we got twenty-three guys supposed to be on site this time of day," he stuttered out, started to say more, then thought better of it and dashed back inside his shack.

"Good Riddance," she hissed, then promptly forgot about him as she turned her attention back to saving whoever she could of the remaining twenty-two humans the foreman said should be on the site. The one on the ground beneath her she decided not to move in case he had internal injuries she might aggravate; he was safe enough where he was although she took the time to make him a bit more comfortable before stepping over him towards the worst of things.

At times like this Theresa wished she weighed as much as a casual observer might think she weighed upon seeing her, rather than more than three times that instead. She was forced to be mindful of every step she took into the unstable field of metal and concrete, one wrong step with her more than four hundred pounds and she could easily end up killing rather than saving any surviving workers. Still it had to be done, the human rescue crews would lose precious minutes getting here that she could make good use of instead.

It wasn't long before she was hearing more than the sound of metal and stone settling and smelling something other than concrete dust and the grease and fuel of the construction equipment; the first of which being the unpleasant odor of blood and human waste assailing her exceptional sense of smell. Even before she found them she sadly knew from that that some had breathed their last already.

As she shifted away pieces tossing them safely away she started finding the grisly examples of death first, parts she treated with decidedly more respect than the unliving junk she'd been diligently removing from her way. Precious minutes went by before she was able to locate a surviving human caught beneath a section of reinforced concrete balanced on an I-Beam that had survived unbent.

"Don't worry you're going to be all right," she purred comfortingly to the human, unconscious though he was. Being unconscious didn't mean he wouldn't appreciate the kind words she knew, nor the gentle touch as she stroked his head with more tenderness than one likely would have expected from her.

There wasn't any way to move the concrete and steel without collapsing the remainder of things, but a little study showed an easier way. Claws extending through the tips of her gloves she set about digging away the material around and beneath the human instead. Unpleasant sounds filled the air as they rent metal and stone alike with relative ease, cutting them into more easily managed pieces and tossing them towards the pile she'd started earlier.

As gently as she could once she had him freed Theresa pulled him into the open air and inspected him more carefully. At least this one's not in too bad of shape, she thought to herself. Hand resting on his chest she could feel the steady beating of his heart, while her exceptional hearing rewarded her with the relatively normal sounds of breathing as compared to what she was used to from humans. No obvious injuries to prevent her moving him elsewhere either, she was glad to note. If only they would all be so easy.

By the time she could hear the first of the emergency crews arriving she'd unearthed half those missing, although only managed to find four that were still alive. It was grim and depressing work but two of them would have died from having the air crushed out of them and could be others were still alive as well.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?! Get out of there before you collapse that on everyone!" Theresa heard one of the first responders shout towards her and wished these humans would find something better to do than repeat themselves all the time and asking the same stupid questions.

"If you had a better understanding of engineering you'd know that wasn't the case," she shouted back, more than a bit peeved at the distraction given how close she was to another live one. "But if you want to be useful I've almost unearthed another live one, maybe you'd like to be here to help ensure he stays that way?"

"We don't need any amateurs getting in the way," he replied while the others on his crew set to work checking on the wounded already available to him. Striding over towards her along with two of the other emergency responders they towered over her much shorter form. Buff like all those in their line of work were she couldn't resist smirking as they seemed to think that gave them some kind of advantage; clearly they must have been part of the minority of New Yorkers who hadn't dealt directly with any of the superbeings that stuffed the city.

"Unless you've got X-ray vision or something equally useful what few humans who're still alive won't be by the time you can find them with your limited human senses," she stated coolly. "The one I can hear is barely breathing and from the sounds of it I'd say one of his lungs has collapsed so stop distracting me and either help or get out of the way," she finished up while pulling out another chunk of concrete she'd determined wasn't supporting anything critical and was safe to remove.

"Then you need to get out of the way and let the professionals deal with it," he persevered, only to find himself talking to her back as she pointedly turned it to him and flicked her tail off to her right. "There's also another one in that direction about ten feet, but he didn't sound as bad off as this one if you want to try and get him out but be careful it's also not as stable as this spot," she noted while pointedly shredding a piece of I-beam she really didn't have to just to emphasize how pointless interfering with her would be. The buried humans simply didn't have time enough for her to leave this all in the hands of the human emergency crews.

"You haven't heard the last of this," he told her, glaring down at her back while the other two humans looked on in confusion. While they didn't want to look as if they were listening to her they little choice but to set up their equipment and start working the area as if she weren't there. The fact that some of their sensitive listening equipment did hear some signs of life below did little to reduce their hostility at an interloping super-heroine that wasn't even human presuming to know their job better than they did.

By the time other crews began arriving Theresa had dug through to the one she'd been most worried about, only her concerns about causing a collapse keeping her from being more reckless in her pace. The fact she could hear him moaning and occasionally begging for help had the mixed blessing of giving her an idea how well he was holding on yet also knowing he wasn't in blissful unconsciousness unaware of what his fate would be if he wasn't rescued soon.

"Hang in there help is on its way," she purred to him reassuringly as soon as she'd opened the way to him, then grimaced once she saw the piece of rebar sticking into his chest pinning him in place. He was clearly in shock from the way he took little notice of her non-human appearance and didn't have long to live if she couldn't get him out and into serious medical care.

"Someone get over here NOW! This human needs a doctor immediately!" she shouted while widening the opening as far as she dared, then realizing an unpleasant necessity in order to get him out.

"What have you got?" asked a competent-appearing black woman carrying a large medical bag before gasping at the sight of the injured man and the rebar sticking from his chest. "We've got to get someone over here to cut that loose before we can remove him, it could kill him trying to pull it out."

"Don't bother I'll take care of that," Theresa reassured her, green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. "But the only way to free his legs up in time is for me to crawl inside and lift that concrete off of them so you can pull him out. It's probably going to collapse so you've got to get him out quickly."

"But you'll be trapped!" was the concerned reply, something Theresa found touching to hear.

"I can dig my way out but it's the only way to get him out in time, anything else will take too long. Can you get him out and at least a few feet away after I free him up?" Theresa asked.

"If you can get him free I can do that," the young black woman replied, impressed by what the mouse-like superhuman was willing to endure to try and save the trapped construction worker.

"Get ready then," Theresa told her as she started to crawl inside. "The moment I say 'now' you get him out," she instructed without a backward glance; time was too short to dilly dally around.

It only took a few seconds for her to cut the rebar off a few inches above the man's chest, the metal easily giving way as she braced it with one hand and sliced through with the claws on the other. The more difficult part came up once she crawled in the rest of the way, backside sticking out slightly as she braced herself as firmly as she could and began to lift up, the broken ground beneath her starting to crack under the pressure as the mass of rubble around her groaned as she lifted it up with her back and shoulders. Muscles bulged beneath her fur as she forced the debris up and away from the man's lower torso, until with a final push she lifted it clean away.

"Now!" Theresa shouted to the disbelieving medic, who only by dint of her training and previous experience managed to respond as she needed to, pulling the man from beneath the rubble before it collapsed once again filling the space around the mouse and burying her beneath it.

Concerned as she was for Theresa the human did her job, setting about doing what she could to stabilize the injured man before it was too late, if it wasn't already. The punctured lung and internal injuries along with it required all her attention and that of her partner as they raced against time to buy the critically injured man enough time to get to the hospital.

Even though she knew what she was getting into Theresa found she did have to remind herself it was necessary and focus on having given the human at least a chance to survive. She just had to remind herself she wasn't really restrained by anything as light as a few tons of rubble; the last thing she wanted was an unpleasant flashback to what happened on her birth world.

This is going to wreck my clothes, she complained inwardly, in spite of their being tailored from unstable molecules and as long as she was wearing them nearly as tough as she was. With the sharp points of jagged metal and concrete prodding at her she forced her way upward through it towards freedom. Even with her eyes closed she suffered a few painful pokes that required her to force her arms up above her to push the junk out of the way first. She wasn't one of those nutjobs like that Wolverine character willing to suffer all sorts of injury just because she could heal back from it quickly. Then again maybe he just wanted to show off what he was best at and not many ways you can show off how you regenerate that don't hurt.

By the time she dug her way free the human had already been hustled off in a waiting ambulance for the closest emergency hospital in the area, leaving Theresa to shake her head to get the worst of the debris out of her long silver hair. Given the scattering of humans hard at work on the disaster site she took a few minutes to brush herself off and see how badly damaged her clothing was; last thing she wanted on top of everything else was to have to deal with human nudity taboos due to exposure from a serious rip in her outfit.

"Hey you! Rat! If you're done primping come over here and make yourself useful!" came the unexpected demand from an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Call me a rat again human and they'll need to excavate you right afterwords," she hissed after stomping her way over to him leaving her footprints deep in the crumpled stonework. "I answer to the name of Paragon when acting in a good Samaritan fashion or any _respectful_terms of address."

"Well then Paragon," he replied with an insulting emphasis to the name, "we need some help getting this concrete slab out of the way without it shifting the rest of the rubble around too much."

"If there wasn't the possibility of lives being lost from the delay I'd see about slapping the stupid out of you," she noted coldly, using one of the terms she'd picked up from her time living on his Earth. "As it is move back I'll see about breaking it up into smaller chunks the rest of you can haul off."

The next six hours proved exhausting (at least for the humans) as Theresa worked alongside the rescue workers removing everything possible to locate the remaining construction personnel. It was equally depressing for all involved though at being unable to find anyone else alive in the wreckage of the incomplete building. As little as she cared for humans due to the ones of her Earth she cared even less for senseless death and preventable tragedy. By the end though it had at least earned her the grudging respect of the humans she'd worked alongside, helping them do in hours what would have taken days otherwise. There was also one little end to the day that gave her an upbeat end to the day.

"Hey! That was great of you helping out like that!" she heard as she was leaving the remains of the worksite, a voice familiar to her from before the accident.

"Well I never was one to stand by and do nothing," Theresa replied to the hot dog vendor, the human smiling almost too happily at her and with a touch of awe and pride as well. "Given how long I was at it I'm surprised you're still here."

"Gawkers watching things make for great sales," he told her, looking a bit sheepish. "Not proud of it but a man's got to make a living."

"I reserve my displeasure for the ones who enjoy watching such sights," she reassured him, then grimaced as she flicked a nasty piece of metal into the gutter after pulling it from the nape of her neck.

"Yeah. Say you want a hot dog? You must be hungry after all that work," he offered to her. "Free for the hero."

The thought of another hot dog left Theresa's mouth watering, even if she could easily go for days without eating the thought of another one so soon was too tempting to turn down.

"I'd love that," she told him, waiting with her tail flicking about energetically about behind her as he put together another hot dog just for her. Thanking him for the meal she bid him a good evening as he finally shut down for the day.

The hot dog didn't manage to last all the way to her apartment, much as she wanted it too unlike the mess from the construction site she'd been swimming around in. From bits of stone and steel littering her hair to the bloodstains and bits of human tissue that marred her formerly pristine outfit as if her own memories weren't enough to remember every detail of things. It only added to the stares and icy aura she perceived from the crowds as she walked home but nothing she could do about it until she was free to clean herself up.

"Hey Theresa where've you been?!" came the quarrelsome voice from an old woman dressed frumpily and standing in front of her apartment building when she finally arrived back home, such as it was. "Those gang bangers were back around today hassling people."

"Which gang was it this time Mrs. Henderson?" Theresa asked with a sigh, growing quite tired with the number of young humans who could use some time in a war zone as targets since they were so determined to demonstrate what a waste of resources they were. If it wasn't beneath her she'd be tempted to fix the problem permanently; that and she'd seen too much death as it was in her life.

"That group with the buzz cuts," she replied, then added when she saw Theresa's confusion, "the weird hair cuts. Came around trying to push that crack of theirs and scare everyone around."

"I'll look into it Mrs. Henderson," Theresa reassured her, making a mental note to come back once she was cleaned up to check for any unfamiliar scents still lingering outside she could link to them and track them down later. "I've been busy as you can see at a construction site accident the last six hours and need to get cleaned up and see whatever's been broken around here I need to fix first."

"That was you? They were saying something on the news about some superhuman interfering but didn't give any idea it was you. I don't care what they were saying you're good people and if you were there you weren't doing anything but helping," the old woman said, her mood softening as she reached to pat Theresa kindly on the shoulder.

"I appreciate that Mrs. Henderson," Theresa thanked her, as she'd been the first in the area to accept her when she arrived on this Earth and attempted to settle in. In fact she often made it a point to stop and talk with Theresa when everyone else was reluctant to other than to get her help fixing things around the building in her job as the maintenance person. At least it gave her reason to believe not all humans were bad and some were worth defending.

"Well don't let me keep you from getting cleaned up dearie, we can always talk later," the old woman told her and gave her a warm smile before heading off to deal with her interrupted business.

Theresa was glad to be able to get to her apartment, the itch from the dust and other debris in her fur quite bothersome. Even if a wide range of things couldn't hurt her she still was subject to irritation due to her normal sense of touch. As a living weapon there was still a need for the same senses as any other living being, although at least most of the others like her got to benefit from a lack of a sense of pain.

Her clothes ended up in a pile on the floor almost as quickly as she got inside before she dashed to the shower and set about washing the day's events from her fur. Water sluiced through her fur while she lathered it up, the rich foam of her soap making for an interesting mix with the orange that made up the majority coloration of her fur. Anyone daring enough to have slipped in to watch would have found she had a few breaks in that orange coat to go along with the silver tresses she was adorned by; a matching silver patch nestled between her ample breasts and another providing modest concealment of her nether regions.

More than half an hour went by before she'd gotten the worst of it out, followed by another half hour of careful washing to get the rest before she judged herself clean enough to rinse and dry herself off.