Doc Mayhem would take to patrolling the streets, laying the smackdown on looters. He's but a scrapper, no healing powers, super strength, or whatnot. He's just some old hippie with a sword.... who has a rather tenuous but growing connection to the Darkforce.
Soulllll Train is a Kinetic, so she'd be zapping the Nat Guard troops with Speed Boost, Inertial reduction, and Increase Density, so they could do their jobs faster and with less distractions. If bad guys showed up, she'd use them to augment her own abilities.
Mistress Ohm would go about retrofitting her tesla coils to provide power, jump-start stalled vehicles, etc. Given that her electrical output could power an emergency room for a week, she'd be in high demand.
Multiball Bonus would be working alongside Soullll, but his radiation abilities would have to be curtailed. Since he's an android he'd not need much in the way of 'sleep'.
"City of Heroes. April 27, 2004 - August 31, 2012. Obliterated not with a weapon of mass destruction, not by an all-powerful supervillain... but by a cold-hearted and cowardly corporate suck-up."
I am a guard... so I'd be guarding those who are there to help. There are so many reports of snipers shooting at hospitals and emergency workers... I'd be doing something about that.
My main accounts main (grav/emp?) would be gathering as many CaBs as he could so he could use his gravity powers to fix the levy, and begin lifting water over it out to the river.
My current char. (kin/psy) would be running around calming (or if nessisary knocking people out with psi powers) and helping all the other heroes help the place.
Really sad event down there, I hope that they can eventually get life back to normal...things like this make me wish CoH was real, so all Paragon heroes could be sent down and fix the problem in a couple seconds...
Falcon Kitiara has group flight, and it is heavily slotted with lots of SO's. She could then get people off new orleans, away from the whirling waters and from the ruined houses, using the Group Flight power and simply flying away with them until they're safe. Then when she would be sure that they are in a safe place, she would go back to new orleans and save all the people that needs to, the same way.
<<"Help! Please, help me! Won't someone help?" the cry comes from a half ruined house, about to crumble to pieces. An old woman on a wheelchair is at a window and is crying and weeping at the same time, her white hair disheveled, eyes red with tears. The people that hear her don't stop to help, they feel ashamed about it, but they have to make sure that their children, wives, husbands, are safe, before worrying about other people and neighbors. The waves crash against the wall of the house, the woman lets out a scream of pure terror feeling the house moving menacingly; on the verge of despair, and feeling the loneliness of being abandoned by everyone else, she almost doesn't notice a strong, leather gloved hand on her shoulder.
"I am here. I will bring you to safety. Don't cry."
The woman turns her head toward the female voice with scandinavian accent, and sees the fierce she-warrior with fiery red hair, a broadsword strapped to her back, golden shoulderpads shining under the light that comes out of the window and from the candles the woman has lit. She wears a mantle behind her back. The woman doesn't know who this person is, but she has heard her words: here to help, safety, life. The old woman's wrinkled hands clench around the strong warrior's hand, as a drowning man would do, hoping that this caped lady is not some kind of illusion or dream.
The lady is lifted from her wheelchair by the strong arms of the caped lady: she can see twin yellow lightnings on the black cape. The swordmaiden doesn't seem bothered at all by the weight of the woman. With a jump, the woman goes out of the window, and the old white haired woman screams in terror: is this caped lady crazy? They will die, they will be swept away by the waves!
"You won't die. I will save you. Don't cry."
The old lady closes her eyes firmly.
then opens them again, since she doesn't feel any movement sensation. And her eyes open wide.
The red haired lady is hovering gently in the air, as if there wasn't any gravity; she lets the old woman go, and, how can this be? The white haired woman can hover, too!
A smile, as genuine and spontaneous as it didn't appear on the old woman's lips since her accident, appears on her lips. Fly? She can fly! She doesn't know why or how this mysterious lady is able to make her fly, but... wait! That must be it. She is an angel. God has sent her an angel to save her! The lady doesn't have any wings... and her sword isn't flaming... and the cape is not much angelic... and of course, why should an angel speak with a scandinavian accent?
But the old woman is flying. Flying! It doesn't matter that she doesn't feel and cannot move her legs now, the angel is making her fly. Pure joy rushes into the woman's heart, as she flies behind the red haired angel. Under them, people are pointing and commenting with "ooh"s and "aah"s, the angel doesn't care, she just wants to bring the old woman to safety. Never before the white haired woman has felt so safe and cared for.
The angel doesn't stop. She rescues a children stuck on a roof, she rescues another old man, almost unable to move because of a grave illness, and some other people. Away from their homes, to the nearest red cross or salvation army camp. To safety. To live.
The survivors weep with joy, rejoining their worried relatives. They turn, tears streaming down their eyes, toward the kind angel that saved them from certain death, and stutter their tanks with voices breaking down with emotion and gratitude.
The red haired angel just bows.
"My name is Falcon Kitiara. No thanks are necessary. I just did my duty."
As she flies away, back into new Orleans, the old woman caresses her nephews hair, knowing that both her and them will always cherish the day that their grandma has been saved by an angel.>>
All right, that's a bit emo, but I like it, so there! :P
About looters? Well, that's what broadsword is. Arresting people, of course - killing is wrong for a hero 
Well, since I have several characters, here goes:
Synergy Alpha would coordinate with the other heroes of Paragon to stop looters and rescue citizens trapped in their homes and other buildings.
Elektra Girl would provide power for the city as best she can
Fire Girl Alpha would keep people in the Superdome warm at night, and use her firepower to evaporate the water.
Ice Girl Alpha would use her icepower to keep everyone cool during the day, so the helicopters could rescue more people rather than fan them off.
Fire Maiden and Ice Maiden would assist Fire Girl and Ice Girl in relief efforts when not stopping looters with Synergy Alpha, Honey, and X81
Patriot Alpha 1 would coordinate with the millitary and Synergy Alpha to manage rescue efforts
Honey Kisaragi would kick looters' butts with her martial arts and kitana blade.
X81 would use her claws and tracking skills to stop looters before they knew what hit them, dragging them back with Honey, Synergy, and the Maidens (Fire and Ice) to restore order in New Orleans.
Green Jenny would use her strength to move rubble out of the way to help reconstruction efforts.
Rockstone Alpha would use her stone-enhanced strength to help Green Jenny with reconstruction.
I have two archers as well, who could help deter looting, Robin and Aerin Hoode, sisters. I have two Irish-Americans, Banshee 007 and Sonic Siren, who could help entertain the people in the Superdome and other shelters by singing to them, when not patrolling with Synergy.
BTW...is there any way I can team up my characters with my other characters on a server? Combined, my heroes would rock!
Ozi my blaster, since he is a master of teleportation, would be using his powers to evac people day and night. And when not working on evacuation he'd be teleporting in food and water.
SentinelDragon my scrapper: He's a govt. he'd be patrolling the superdome and maintaining order as much as possible
ShockHawk my other blaster, there'd be a lot of bad guys in electric fences over and over and over again.
Flipshot my defender: He would be assisting Ozi with rescue efforts using flash arrow as a singnal flare, taking down any opposition hostage takers with his oh so swift arrows (snap shot rules) so that Ozi can tp in, round up survivors, and then tp out.
My hero would have to be tied to the end of a rope and carried by Coast Guard heliocopter (since her custom vehicles ran out of gas days ago).
Flying her over the selected area she would untie herself. Just before she face plants from 100 feet up, a sudden change to rock armor. Thus the leevee is blocked (she's not fat, just big boned).
Hmm well i hae about 18-20 family members in LA so i would probably use my controll over fire to the point where all of the water evaporates unflooding the whole state. But thats just my hero 
My hero ( Fire/Fire Tank ) would just amuse people since he's so gimped because of I5.
((All my heroes, except for Steve and Ma, are Sisters, so you get one, you get them all. The following would be parallel to what is happening at Gal's anyway, so there is no interruption to that thread.))
Across the City, women paused on the streets, in their offices, on the Tram and during missions. Some costumes allowed the traditional tattoos to be seen, some had secret identities that hid them, but one thing was the same among all these women: the tattoos pulsed with a message all understood. "Return to the Island, soonest."
******
Gal stormed from the kitchen, and Martin knew that look. She moved fast for a woman her size, and stood next to the podium in seconds. Already, Sibling and Diva were standing and moving for the doors, Lady Gemini, Sharon and Gypsy a step behind.
"You got the place, Martin," the immense black tank said as she passed, "I'll call when I can." He nodded, knowing there would be no more talk now, and able to take charge.
The group of women in, and out of, costume poured onto the sidewalk outside, Narshawn just coming from the bar entrance a few meters away. Sibling held rank, and a motion from their hand sent the runners, a touch of their hand to the tattoo under the Blastex costume and they faded into teleportation. Moments later, the sidewalk was empty and all the women were on The Island.
******
"There has been a disaster, and we have been called," Sibling was serving as Lady Almira's voice, standing at the head of the meeting place. "Loss of life is immense, no effort will be spared. Only those to care for The Island will remain behind. Gather your daughters, and any young with powers. There is little time," their face was grave. Behind the twins, Almira's hood was fully down, but the empath's cowl was wet with the tears she had been silently shedding. "You know what is to be done. Be well, Do Good."
The meeting was over, no running but many feet moving as quickly as they could. Even while the Ladies had been gathered here, their daughters, Mistresses and Initiates, had been preparing supplies and traveling gear. At the far end of the clearing, a mountain of crates and pallets was forming. A steady stream of young women and girls carrying all forms of supplies from the storage places.
The teleporters started first, each with a Sister that could speed metabolism or with O2 Boost skills, so they could reach their destination quickly. Those with Group Fly lifted the supplies and headed out as fast as possible, often with a controller using speed boost slung beneath their arms.
It was still hours, but the Sisters arrived, with no time to cry or stare in awe at the devastation that was New Orleans. There had been enough stalling, enough blame to go around. Now it was time for action, now it was time for those with powers to help the heroes that had stood in their stead until now.
Heroes: Firemen that had walked through sewage and broken neighborhoods to rescue the injured. Police that had reported to duty even as their own families were missing. Paramedics and doctors that were working with no clean water or electricity, operating in devastated buildings with Coleman lanterns as their only light. Volunteers that had risked their own lives to rescue the infirm or young. Construction workers that were even now using abandoned equipment to drag decking and steel to the breached levees. Human beings with no magic, no mutant powers, no alien artifacts to protect them.
*********
Lady Thorn led the Sisters with powers tied to weather and earth to the levees. Somewhere near Industrial Avenue and 17th, they joined hands and a mound of sodden dirt rose. The wind whipped up to a memory of the hurricane that had caused the destruction. Slowly, the levee was rebuilt and the wind drove waves of water back out of the city.
Here and there, gangs of Stone Servants carried huge sandbags to the holes in the levees. Water was no concern for them, and piece by piece they rebuilt what had failed. As one would drop from exhaustion, another would take his place, but the Sisters who directed them had no rest. The knowledge of what was at stake enough to drive the women past their limits.
******
"Gal! I need a hand here!" Lady Anvil stood waist deep in fetid water, pieces of broken buildings all around. She was eye level with the attic of a crumbling house, at nine feet high, she was acting as one of the spotters for trapped people.
Gal's splashing rounded the corner, the black woman's face set like the stone she was. There was death and destruction aplenty here, but no time to mourn. The group of tanks and scrappers had been tearing open attics and removing debris all day, trying to save those still trapped in the vast lake.
Some Sisters had talents with water, and they towed or floated barges. Using anything they could find, those that could were removing people that had not, or could not, flee the water. Half a block away, Mistress Mery concentrated to keep the waterlogged flatbed above the water, and protect the dozen or so pitiful people they had found in the last hour.
"Tell me A," Gal's toneless voice replied.
"I can hear a child here, but I think if I tear open the roof, some will collapse." The center of the roof was already bowed, probably damaged from the storm. Almost on cue, small fingers the color of chocolate thrust through the louvered attic vent and a small voice called out.
"Hello? Help us! Is someone there?"
"Calm down girl," Gal stalked to the edge of what had been the porch roof, afraid to touch the wall for fear of collapse. The tank's giant hand stretched out to touch the girl's own, physical contact being more reassuring than simple words.
"We're gonna get you out of there. How many's you got?"
"It's just me and my lil' brother," the tiny voice came back.
"Hold on, an gets away from tha' wall." Gal glanced towards the taller white lady that was her superior, and Anvil nodded. Silently, she called a name in her mind, and a moment later received an acceptance the same way.
Sibling appeared in a flash, Gal calling them through teleportation. No words passed between them, the tank and controller were close enough not to need them. Sibling's tiny hand brushed away the tears Gal had been shedding periodically all day.
The much smaller controller turned and grasped the roof with their mind, levitating the torn shingles and planking. A nod and the two tanks walked through the wall where the girl's hand had been a moment before.
Pieces of wood and plaster tore around them, the building no match for the Sister's size or strength. Gal stretched and caught the boy, barely ten from his size and staring at Gal with wonder. Anvil had the girl a moment later, clinging to her chest like a lost puppy.
Walking backwards, in a move they had perfected earlier, the two women shielded the children from falling debris and sharp objects and backed out into the sun. Sibling released the roof as they passed into the street, and the small house tilted, popped and fell into itself.
Two more quivering, terrified survivors for the shelters.
*******
Narshawn and Mistress Larae worked as a team at one of hundreds of shelters in the city. While Nar could control ice and cold, Larae was a fire blaster. Using the principles of evaporation, they found they could sterilize water and remove the sediments quickly by working together.
Tankers stood waiting for the clean water to take it to shelters, while people carrying bottles and jugs needed it for their families. Little talking passed between them, they needed their strength for the long days ahead.
******
Downtown, the healers and medical trained Sisters worked at Charity Hospital alongside normal doctors and nurses. The pallets of supplies the Sisters had brought stood almost empty, tons of emergency treatment equipment gone in hours.
Even with the added help, some could not be saved, and a morgue was being attended by some of the Ice Maidens. The longer the heat lasted, the more important this refrigerated room was. As nurses did in ages past, they passed along the rows and added names to lists.
Thankfully three of the Sisters had volunteered for power duty. With the generators down, and out of diesel fuel due to miscommunications with the government, they desperately had needed electricity.
Now, where the Caterpillar generators had been, a Sister kneeled on the concrete pad. Some of the scrappers had dismantled the mechanical units, certainly voiding the warranties, leaving space for the blasters to pour electricity into the main systems.
They had to take turns, the three using their powers to run the minimum of services. Even at backup power only, the strain was immense, many Initiates ferrying food and water to a rest area for Ladies Hersute, Magna and Madelena as their breaks allowed.
None could approach the actual generating area, sparks and bolts of stray lightning turning the earth black and desolate. Hersute stood, her turn as Madelena showed signs of collapse. The grey-haired blaster walked up behind her friend and grabbed hold of thick cables, catching a resigned thanks from the younger woman's eyes.
"Get something to eat, 'Lena," she said kindly as bolts of blue arced across her back.
*****
"And where was the human government?" Gemini was deadly quiet, her voice barely a whisper. The group of scrappers patroled the perimeter of the Superdome, having duty to prevent any further murders or rapes. With so many police missing, and the National Guard strained already, they could enter the building and help when needed. She, most of all, had been disgusted to learn that there were those preying on innocents in this time.
"They had two days warning. There were notices. Still, they cut emergency funding, cut preparedness funds, neglected the advice of their own scientists." Lupa prowled next to her, the leopard woman's sharp ears attuned to signs of trouble. "Corporations sent aid before their own leaders did. I have heard that this US government even formally requested aid from Europe, their own planning being so poor. How can a country so rich, that complains about sending aid to those so poor, now request aid? They treat their own people like animals." The words carried a tone of utter disbelief.
"No," Lupa spoke, her feline eyes flashing, "Animals treat their own better."
The sound of a woman's screams brought both of them to a run.
*****
((May the Goddess have mercy on those caught in this terrible disaster, and my heart goes out to them. The true heroes in this are those with no thought of themselves, but only of helping others: Police, Fire, Emergency crews, civilians who have opened their homes, doctors who have flown in from every corner of the world. Questions should be asked of those who JOBS it is to prepare for this, and who have failed miserably.))
Riley would be standing in front of a Lieutenant going, "where do you want me, sir?"
In short, anything he could as directed and until directed to stop or he fell over from exhaustion. But he's a big boy, so that'd be a while.
"All this water, and no way to work with it... ah well, then we do it the hard way."
Soullll flew northeast to a sporting goods store she'd seen on the way down from Paragon, and managed to convince the manager to give her a trailer packed with 6 fiberglass canoes. She then speed-ran back to the roablocks outside N'awlins, hauling the light trailer with its load behind her like a rickshaw.
"Where's the water start?"
The nearby National Guard officer directed her to a topo map. "Here and here. We haven't got much in the way of personnel so we're barely able to cover these neighborhoods."
"I'm on it. I'll need a radio to call for a pickup once I get some people out. One more favor. I need a speed boost, and that means one of your men gets to take a nap for awhile. I'd prefer a volunteer...."
A young corporal stepped up and saluted.
Soulllll motioned two others to catch him, as the Siphon hit, he'd likely faint. She then pulled ... something... and felt the rush of speed as indeed the young soldier wordlessly swooned.
Picking up the trailer hitch and pulling it behind her, she booked to the flooded intersection on her map. She then unloaded the canoes, tied each off with lengths of rope, then towed them behind her as she flew low over the water, calling out to occupants.
"Helloooo! Anyone?"
"Heeey! Help us!!" The voice was faint, and as she looked around, she saw a hand waving from an attic window.
"Y'all sit tight, I'm comin'!" She hovered over to the window, and realized that it was barely able to open enough to permit the woman and two children inside to escape.
"OK, y'all back up, a'aight? And cover yo' heads."
She ducked under the eaves, tensed herself, then fired several force bolts straight up into the eaves, blowing a corner of the roof straight up and off. Hrmm, still not enough room. But maybe... She wedged herself into the opening, and Repelled, blowing a 2-meter wide hole in the roof.
"Y'all alright?"
"Thank God, you came! They been sayin' they come, but no one come, Poppa took our boat to try and find help, but he ain't been seen since Tuesday, mebbe."
"OK, I gots a canoe down here fo' y'all, lemme get you out, these here boa'ds is all splintery."
Lifting first a child, then the other, and finally the starving and thoroughly chilled mother, she placed each into one of the canoes. "OK, time fo' lessons. Don' tip sideways or stand up, or boat'll tip and you swimmin'. So stay seated."
She then took up the lanyard and repeated the process, until she'd got passengers for all 6 canoes. She then retraced her route to where she dropped off the trailer, and called the guard outpost for a Humvee.
"Yah commander? I got 18 people here, mostly kids. You wanna send somebody? They on dry land, but they ain't in no shape for walkin'. I gotta do another ferry run. yah, that's right. That intersection you told me about."
Right now, she'd sooner take on a Council mech platoon than have to face this. So many dead... but the ones that were alive, those were the ones she was after.
"City of Heroes. April 27, 2004 - August 31, 2012. Obliterated not with a weapon of mass destruction, not by an all-powerful supervillain... but by a cold-hearted and cowardly corporate suck-up."
Doc Mayhem, with a chartreuse-yellow reflective vest over his gi, and a set of combat boots on to keep the mud off, was busy patrolling a section of the French Quarter. This section had not been hit as hard, and hadn't been flooded, but because there was no power and no phones, it was all but a ghost town. Here and there he saw residents and business owners doing what they could to clean up, and some even were trying to open their businesses. But many just stood and stared, with this dull expression that belied the shock they were feeling.
Turning a corner, Doc met a young man who had his back to the wall. Two thugs were menacing him with switchblades, while a third was going thru the back of the man's car. What were they after? Didn't matter.
"Now that's hardly a way to be treatin' someone after a storm. What you squares after? Pawnshop's closed."
"Dey after my med'cal supplies!!"
"Hey, shut up, you. And back off, ya old hippie. You seen nuthin', you heard nuthin', walk away."
"I'm sorry, gentlemen... " Blade of Spring Dawn made a sibilant ringing sound as Doc withdrew her from the scabbard, and it blended to the throbbing grating hum of Darkforce collecting around him...
"I insist that you drop what you're doing and put your hands up against that wall, right now, or you will be hurt, right now."
"Check it, Bubba. Old dude's got a blade. Careful, stoner, or ah'll take that too."
"Very well. Your funeral." Spring Dawn made three quick slashes, and the man's pants fell to his knees as his belt was severed, and a thin red line appeared on his extended belly. The man screamed, turned to run, and promptly tripped and fell flat.
Doc didn't even slow down. Crossing the space between the car and the imperilled man, he unleashed a flurry of blade strikes that sent knives flying, then with a melodic "RINNG!" one of the remaining crooks got knocked flat as Spring Dawn struck him hard across the temple.
The last man had had enough. He booked.
"Uh uh. We can't have you running off just yet, my friend." Reaching out thru the Darkforce, Doc felt the man's fleeing form, and called it to him. The man was teleported to a spot two feet from Doc, still sprinting madly... but his orientation had him running right into a wall. WHAM! he fell to the pavement, out cold.
As the Darkforce field around him faded, Doc sheathed his blade, and then held a hand out to the young man. "Doc Mayhem, at your service."
The man grabbed it and shook it enthusiastically. "Oh wow, y'all are intense! Thought it'd be good ide' to bring some of de supplies from my office out here, and treat folks for what ails 'em. But dose punks, dey just wanted my stuff so's dey could sell it or shoot drugs."
"You're a doctor?"
"Yeah. Well, intern, actually. But I knows enough to be a sidewalk medic. All de drugstores and such in de Quarter, dey give me what I need, say I can pay 'em back once things get straight. In meantime, I'se out here patchin' folks up... or tryin' to."
Doc gave the doc his deepest bow of respect. "Up until now, I thought I was the hero. But you sir, you are the real deal. I'd best get to my rounds, but I'd be honored if I could treat you to a beer later on."
((OOC: yes, according to the news, there is a young doctor working the French Quarter, using the back of his car as a mobile office. And yes, he bought and/or begged much of his first aid supplies from local drugstores. As far as I know he does not have a Cajun accent, though.))
"City of Heroes. April 27, 2004 - August 31, 2012. Obliterated not with a weapon of mass destruction, not by an all-powerful supervillain... but by a cold-hearted and cowardly corporate suck-up."
<no nasty comments in this thread, please....>
What would YOUR hero do about the devastation in New Orleans and the Gulf Coast?
Glowing Skull - dark/rad defender
Glowing Skull would be pretty darned busy...even if he had back-up.
First things first...nasty, contaminated flood waters inundate the city. Perhaps his radioactive blasts can kill some of the microbes in the water. Ach, but there's so much water! The sick and injured need urgent help...best fly to the hospitals and see what he can do. But first....<heh-heh>, he'll need fuel to heal the injured.
Flying over an appliance store, he spots just what he needs: armed looters loading a boat with DVD players and television sets. Glowing Skull blasts them with a mild jolt of radioactivity, grabs a few of the nicer looted electronics and hovers-off...just slow enough for the looters to give chase...firing rifles and pistols as they weave through the city canals.
Once at the nearest hospital, Glowing Skull give them another mild blast...just to keep them angry, before he busts through a second-story window into the hospital.
Inside, he's greeted by a frightened orderly bradishing a gun....obviously to guard against looters.
"Hey, put that down! I'm here to help!"
But, Glowing Skull's ghoulish visage does everything to encourage panic.
-BLAM!- He missed.
"I don't have time for this!" Glowing Skull shouts, as shadows seep from his empty eye-sockets and surround the frightened orderly...keeping him held, but un-harmed.
The motorboat is close...Glowing Skull can hear that the thugs will be through the broken window any second as he rushes into the hospital hallway...a doctor is running towards the door.
"Glowing Skull, what happened? I heard a shot!"
"Oh, thank goodness someone recognizes me! You must be from Paragon. Quick! Lead me towards your sickest patients."
Glowing Skull and the doctor enter a stairwell just as one of the looters turns a corner. -BLAM!-
"Aiiiee! I'm hit!" Screams the doctor.
"Crud! Stay close!" Glowing Skull launches dark energy out of his hands. The dark energy bolts towards the thug and surrounds him...staying just long enough to sap some of his strength before launching back towards Glowing Skull and the doctor, bathing them in healing energy.
"Think you're OK to go-on?"
The doctor nods a hearty "yes"
They race up three flights of stairs, at least four thugs close behind, before exiting upon a dismal ward lit only by candle-light.
"Party time!" Glowing Skull mentally reaches out to the dark dimension, summoning one of its inhabitants. He then pours sticky dark energy onto the ground...so that when they run into this ward, the thugs will be ensnared!
No sooner is Glowing Skull finished with coating the floor with dark-force than four thugs bust through the stairway door, their reaction delayed by suddenly being stuck in the sticky dark energy.
Whoosh! The dark servant launches shadows at one of the thugs, completely freezing him in his tracks. Glowing Skull does the same to another...and then another...
A thug fires at Glowing Skull hitting him squarely in the shoulder. It hurts, but it doesn't matter. Soon all the thugs are frozen in the doorway....naught but immobile statues held in place by dark energy.
"Now for the real work." Glowing Skull weaves though the ward, sapping the strength of the frozen thugs, using that strength to heal the injured and sick.
A few radioactive blasts later, and the thugs are unconscious, bound and restrained by bandages, and back in their motorboat on top of which is posted a large sign..."N.O.P.D....looters aboard, please arrest"
"I suppose I just did some good, but I wish the other heroes of Paragon City were here to help...."