Crow, young and hot-headed, was very new to the game.
There wasn't a lot going for the purple-clad villain at the moment, but his secret base was one of them. Small, secluded, and only accessible from a dark and dinghy alley. Classic slum villain fare, really. The impulsive evil doer she'd set her eyes on was no 'super' villain by any stretch of the imagination. His minions were little more than street thugs and hooligans set out on a path of destruction and mischief by his words, but it was a very discordant destruction at that.
But, he had minions.
That alone was promise. Most super villains had some sort of a grandiose start. The brightest minds, the ruined royals, and the corrupt government officials of the day that ran the world of super villains were a force to be reckoned with. She'd recently had a falling out with one, after all; she knew how they worked. That's why this one particular brat who had popped out of nowhere and turned Macro city's underbelly of misfits into a cohesive unit in the span of a couple of weeks was something intriguing to be sure.
Crow. Crow the former air pirate. Crow the fallen. That's what some of the higher-ups were calling him. Spitting on him and his name as if some nobody off the streets could ever topple their glorious empires. Even getting a glimpse of his previous air pirate past had taken Becky all her resources to get. Such information had been either closely guarded, or viewed as so inconsequential that no one bothered to remember it. Perhaps 'fallen from grace' was not such a misnomer for the bird-named baddie, even if he was the laughingstock of villainy's finest.
There was something to be said about him, however. There was potential. A driving force that had swept up the common miscreants and reformed them to minions with mere words and actions. But it was a force that lacked direction. The chaos Crow brought was too widespread. Too uncoordinated.
Macro city's current supervillain was a corrupt mayor, if she recalled correctly. Smug, he ignored the city's ruling princess and idol, Mayapple, except to hold her hostage via diplomatic immunity when he wanted to show his power. How... droll. Utterly full of himself.
Time to change that.
When Crow arrived triumphantly back at base with a bag of loot and a half-dozen minions, Becky was there. In normal, nearly innocuous looking office clothes and pink shoes. There.
Just, there.
Waiting.
"Eh?"
It was not a very dignified greeting. The flat look and the raised eyebrow denoted a very confused man in front of her. It was clear that he hadn't been expecting someone in his secret base.
Good. She still had it, then.
"The heck are you?" a minion snapped rudely. Untrained lout, Becky thought snidely.
"I believe I have a business proposition for you," she said simply, gauging Crow's reaction.
"How did you get in here," her target growled.
Becky's expression did not change. "Does it matter? I wish to speak of business. Must we really bother with the pleasantries? I find they take too much time."
Crow clearly did not share her sentiments. "I asked you a question, and you're going to answer it!" He drew out a small cylinder, holding it threateningly towards her. His minions backed off.
It was one of his grenades, she realized. Part of what had interested her in his profile. An inventor to the core, he'd built weapons and agility-enhancing boots from literal scraps of metal. Or at least that's what she'd heard. Her information network was very accurate however, and she knew of no reason to doubt it. "I got in here by being interested in a partnership. You seek villainy, no?"
A click. The grenade was armed. The bravest minions fled to a safe distance, watching with bated breath as their boss squared off against the mysterious invader. Crow chuckled, "Heh heh heh... hah hah hah! For acting so sure of yourself, you've sure gotten yourself in a mess! Don't you know who I am? I am good at being bad! I'm nefarious to the core! I am Crow! And when I want an answer, I'll get it however I want!" And here he grinned, and Becky saw that her gamble was worth it. She saw his potential, even as his pointed teeth promised her death.
"I'll have my answer, even if I have to take my answer from your cold dead body!"
Becky had been a secretary for years. An organizer and accomplice to evil sorts. She knew trouble when she saw it. More importantly however, she knew how to deal with it. Some quick footwork on her part led her safely out of the blast range. This is why she avoided the heels, she thought absently, dodging another explosion almost effortlessly. Crow currently had the advantage with his explosions and ranged weaponry.
Or at least, that's what he thought.
The problem with cheap explosives made from parts off the street was that they were frail, small, and made a lot of smoke. Or at least these ones did. Crow was bombarding her with weaponry, but his own attacks were working against him. He didn't see Becky grabbing a pipe off the ground, in fact he didn't even know she had it, until it was swinging at his head in a wide arc. To his credit he managed to redirect the blow. As a long-distance attacker, he did the sensible thing and jumped back from her blows. It would have been a smart move had Becky not been three steps ahead of him.
He tripped over a cord, fell prone, and squawked as his opponent stood over him. Becky knew at this point that she had to move fast before he could react properly. The bomb she's pocketed from his belt mere moments before was primed, shoved in the end of the pipe, and swung at him.
Crow guarded, of course. But the pipe had momentum. And even worse, it had a bomb at the tip.
The sound of an explosion was nearly drowned out by a scream.
Crow's mangled arm fell to his side. Becky stood above him, shattered pipe-end held threateningly towards her attacker's throat.
"I believe we can see eye to eye on my proposal without continuing this current debate much further? It's rather hard fighting in a skirt," Becky commented. Despite her uncaring tone, she was panting. Crow's aim had been spot-on, and unlike previous employers, had she not been on top of her game, she's have suffered a lot worse than the various scorch marks, bruises, tattered clothes, and shrapnel wounds she'd been inflicted with.
Crow looked at her with a blank face, but his eyes were intrigued. Sparkling with calculations. Despite the fact that she'd just taken his arm, he grinned. It was a glorious, toothy, evil grin.
"Well I guess you've got my attention!"
He waved in some minions, who immediately broke from their dazes with a wail and a shower of medical attention. They gathered a chair from somewhere, miraculously undamaged, and he sat down in it like he owned the place and everything had been according to plan from the start. It was a pose that had a wonderfully calming effect on the minions, whose focus was astounding.
Becky sat opposite from him on a couch stained with who knows what, the busted springs and smoke hinting at long years of abuse. She ignored this gracefully, brought out a clipboard and pen, and prepared to plan.
"Well then. I see my proposition has been accepted. Shall we begin?" Crow grinned at her comment, leaning forward to listen even as she clicked her pen (much like Crow had clicked his grenades to activate them) and settled down to do her work. "Before we start, I will request one thing."
"Oh?" He smiled, waiting.
Becky smirked.
"Ditch the catchphrase."
