Wreck is currently flying around the city, heading to places that are notable for a high amount of anti-homeless fencing, spikes set up on ledges, etc...and simply removing them, bit by bit, softening spike-strips and pulling them out by hand, yanking up illegal fences, even taking a handheld metal-cutter to more permanent alterations at times. The sparking of wires and whirring of mechanical parts is audible as she does so, shrapnel-mask fully-deployed to allow her to easily scan her surroundings and pick up anything she might've missed. She's practically daring anyone to try and stop her, the haphazard snarl of glass shards and savaged metal "teeth" she calls a mouth with her power active twisted into a smile as she works.

The flying cape might realize they had an audience when the chain-link of the fence they were cutting into rattled, if the equipment didn't tell them first. A tall person in a teddy-bear styled mask with a massive mane of hair just looking up at her with an unreadable expression.

Without looking, a second set of hands peel away from the ones Wreck is currently using and wave at the newcomer, before she switches off the metal-cutter, stows it in the duffel bag at her side, and starts pulling segments of chain-link fencing, chicken-wire, and what look like nails away from the hastily-erected "fence" around some trees in a public park, balling up the whole mess with some four-armed effort and putting it in the duffel bag as well. She's doing all of this with her bare hands, the metal simply deforming like rubber instead of stabbing in when she presses down on it.

She turns towards Mechakoloss, and it's immediately obvious that the helmet she's wearing is partially-growing from her head, her eyes simply the barest flecks of green reflected and refracted into nonsense within a crush of broken mechanisms. She speaks, and her voice is one-part rasp, one part mechanical clicking, as she talks through straining metal and clinking glass.

"Let me guess, some new Protectorate cape here to beat me into unconsciousness for daring to ensure someone doesn't get tetanus because a landlord decided to solve homelessness with barbed wire?"

Heat pours off of her body, the air itself holding her aloft as she pivots back to an upright position and lowers herself to the ground.

"Huh? No. God no. This is cool as heck, I just wanted to see what you were doing with the scrap metal."

The woman's tone was conversational, easy. She didn't stop leaning, just raising a hand to show she meant no harm.

In doing so Wreck could see a pair of patches on the shoulder of her leather jacket. The first being a trans flag with "protect trans kids" written on it, the second being a grey patch with four numbers on it "1312."

Wreck shrugs, taking a few steps forward and looking at the patches, the weak charge in the air briefly intensifying to a slight audible buzz as she tilts her head, trying to discern details in color through the funhouse mirror that is her mask...and upon finally seeing them, she concludes that Mechakoloss is an ally to her cause, tension visibly leaving her body.

"I was thinking of maybe adding some spikes to my coat, something I could use if I lose my staff." The length of rebar on her back bobs up and down as she moves, the weapon strapped into place. "The rest...probably gonna take most of it to a scrapyard, honestly. Why, you want it?"

"I could help you work those into some punk spikes, or some studs if you want to go for a sleek look. I used to have leather gloves with flat studs over the knuckles. That was before I ever got into any of this though."

She'd indicate her masked face.

"And yeah, whatever metal you're willing to spare. Makes my life easier."

"I'd appreciate that, honestly. Could you do both? Studs for blunt-force, spikes or blades for when I need something sharp." She gestures towards the mishmash of sparking mechanical parts around her head. "My power's pretty focused on weakpoints, being able to slip a blade through gaps and get through stuff easier might be helpful if I wind up going up against some of the psychopaths in this city."

She tilts her head, considering something. "I'm assuming you're some kind of Tinker, if you need scrap. Feel free to take whatever you want. It's all junk anyways, better off recycled into something constructive."

"You don't look like much of a tinker, but you don't mind recycling." The woman joked as she moved in and started to dig through the metal, scooping out a few bits of more shining silver.

"Your touch can make the metal sort of soft right? Can I manipulate it while you touch it?"

"I'm not a tinker. A few other things, sure, but not a tinker. Don't know the first thing about engineering or anything like that." She taps on her mask. "This stuff's all natural. Or about as natural as bits of broken glass growing through someone's face can be, anyways."

She considers Mechakoloss's question, before shaking her head. "Any alterations are temporary, stuff snaps back to normal once I lose concentration or let go. Can't pull stuff apart, but I can stretch it, make things more flexible, soften impacts, that kind of thing." She pulls her staff off of her back, passing the duffel bag to Mechakoloss before taking a few steps back, casually tying the length of rebar into something that looks like one of those balloon dogs clowns make for children. She tosses it up into the air and it completely unravels as soon as it leaves her hand, metal straightening out forcefully until she's left with the original staff, which she catches and secures back in place with a set of arms that each sprout from different areas on her back.

"Okay that is an amazing mousetrap in the making." The woman joked while she watched the staff snap back into place.

"The arms are cool as heck as well!" Mechakoloss gasped as she started to move behind the other cape to examine the arms.

"Fantastic joint work. I might need to try that out. Though I'm not sure I can interface the extra limbs into the cognural network without..." She'd trail off into some muttering.

Wreck lets her inspect the arms, deciding to show off a bit. They sure are arms, complete with proper joints, fingernails, and a full range of motion, growing directly from her back. A slight effort of will from Wreck causes them to retract and disappear, only to re-emerge from one of her normal arms, shoulders leading directly into the palm of the preceding hand. She doesn't appear to have any difficulty moving the result, basically rolling her arm into a spiral with all of the different joints and otherwise contorting it in various ways.

"Mind if I ask what kind of tech you make? Kinda curious, I've shown off a bit already, you haven't. Seems only fair."

"I just work in large scale. I actually don't have any of my tech on me right now. I've found that unless things are getting really serious, a lot of people really will do a lot to avoid getting smacked upside the head with a heavy wrench. Brutes are another matter but I'm faster than I look."

The woman joked, though with her long legs she probably could move pretty quickly if she needed to.

"Mhm. So you can't work small-scale, then?"

There's a rush of heat, the wind catching Wreck's hair and clothing as she's gently lifted into the air, floating a few inches off the ground, enough to look Mechakoloss in the eye. "I'm pretty sure you know already, but I can handle getting hit with tools, 'n I can fly faster than most people can run. Right now, I beat you. There are going to be other capes with similar capabilities, it's fucking inevitable considering how many people can fly and shoot lasers. You're cool, you're presumably doing things right, it'd fucking suck if you wound up some psycho's pet tinker. You should really invest in a gun, or whatever personal-defense measures you can make."

She proceeds to place her hands on either side of the duffel bag, and twist it like she's closing a bag of sliced bread. The bag full of nails, bits of chicken-wire, and other scrap folds under her grip, squashing and warping until it's roughly half as long as it was previously, twisted into a hyperboloid, even the fabric squashing like rubber. "Even if you need to make it something you can keep with you." She pulls back her hands slowly, and the duffel bag untwists as it returns to normal. "I'm basically blind right now, and even I can see that being entirely unarmed as a tinker is tactical suicide."

Mechakoloss didn't step back, or flinch. Just crossed her arms and tilted her head to one side. The teddybear mask making it a bit less intimidating than it might have been. Eventually though, the tinker shook her head and Wreck could hear her chuckling.

"The concern is appreciated, but unnecessary. I've been a tinker for two years now, I know the drill when it comes to the ego maniacs and their fetish for pet tinkers. They love the flexibility, the unexpected nature of the plot twist. But while I'm not armed, I'm also not defenseless."

She tilted her head the other way and rubbed at her neck. Scratching underneath the massive mane of brown hair that draped down to her knees.

"I've told the Protectorate and the mafia guy downtown I'm not interested in their bickering. I'm barely interested in being a cape, but I've got to scratch that tinker itch or else I'll go nuts. As long as I don't flaunt my abilities too much, I'm basically a non-entity in a silly cartoon mask."