Dreaming of Foxfire

by Thanatanos

Some of the most important struggles in our life tend to come from within, between us, ourselves, and the world and it's views. Some have a mental block that they long to overcome. Some have past regrets that tug from behind. Taylor feels as if she's drowning in her troubles between her school, her identity, and a certain nine tailed fox.

6. Chapter 6

Ay, not to proud of most of this, but I feel like it ended up pretty good

3.1

My backpack slipped over my shoulder, settling it's weight on my back. "Dad! I'm heading out!"

"See you later kiddo!" he called, wrestling with his tie.

I closed the door and hopped down the steps, stopping to rub a sore spot on my legs. It's not like they got worse overnight. If anything, they seemed better. However, after being in a body that felt and respondedperfectly for most of yesterday the pains felt like strangers rather than constant companions. I had to get used to them all over again, something I wasn't looking forward to. This would probably happen every time I transform. Great.

Still, the walk to school wasn't that unpleasant. A few more aches, a few more pains, but everyone left me alone it gave me time to think. I hadn't had enough time to do that in the past two days. With how fast everything happened I hadn't had time to really comprehend, just do. That bugged me. It really did.

My reactions had been off, clunky, not thought out. There were so many different ways I could have handled situations. Better decisions, clearer communication. I just didn't have the time to think with my attention being pulled ten different ways at any one time. The only time that I seemed to be removed enough to take everything in had been in my other form, and, well…

I suppose that is me. My meeting with Lung had showed me that, hadn't it? Same goals, similar values, but the way I thought was just so different that it barely counted. Part of being some kind of super trump, apparently, comes with a personality change.

I couldn't really classify my powers in any one area. Blaster, mover, thinker, changer…Trump classifies me the best. So many uses, and I feel like I'd barely scratched the surface. While I hadn't really had time to experiment, per say, my other form always seemed to use something new instinctively. Well, that would make sense form what I heard on the boards. Everyone understood their powers on a basic level, if not most of the uses. The uses came to trumps, I guess, over time. Like Eidolon?

No, no. Comparing myself to the world's strongest hero is a little much. Well, strongest besides Scion, but everyone knows that. While the similarities are there, like with how I find new powers on the fly, they are nowhere near as versatile or powerful as his are. Unlike his bag of tricks, mine are a finite resource. That's what I feel at least. A broad area, yes, but with limits.

Testing. That's what I need to do. Find a use for all the various aspects of my power. I applied essence to Seka and Naoko to get them out of that time bubble. Could I apply it to others differently? Maybe transform them, like I had myself.

I might be a healer. I might actually be a healer.

I'll have to test this, of course. See if it even works. But if it does, this could be huge. Healers are the rarest of Parahumans, and we definitely need more. Every life counts in a fight against the Endbringers. Far too many capes have died fighting those monstrosities, if I could even save one this could be worth it.

Still, that's getting ahead of myself. Better to focus on my immediate situation. What will I do about my deal with Lung? Why did I make that deal with Lung? I'd been so sure at the time that I could back up my end of the bargain, but taking down Empire 88 by myself is thinking a little too big. Then again, Lung seemed perfectly happy to help, and willing to clean up the docks to have mine. If he does, it's a win despite any danger to myself. If he doesn't, that just means I don't have to help him, and focus more on protecting Naoko from danger.

Then there's the PRT, and all the issues that comes with it. I should have signed up with them earlier, gotten my cape name certified. Since I hadn't, I might end up being called by whatever name the public came up with. Hopefully Foxfire would be the most apparent, I really liked that name. Maybe because it was the first cape name someone had given me, but still. Hopefully they would see my hostage rescue on the docks for what it was, not think I'm some new ABB cape. That mask probably hadn't helped.

I hefted my bag, feeling it's bulge in my pouch. My new, poor looking, but incredibly high quality locked bag. This had to be my favorite gift from Seka, easily. She'd included a lot of way too skimpy clothes for my other form. Tank tops, sheer shirts, shorts that seemed more like underwear than anything else…But this would be useful, maybe even stop the trio from getting into my stuff.

Ugh. The trio. I'd almost forgot about them. Dealing with them seemed scarier than fighting Hookwolf of all people.

I stopped, squinting through the morning light. The school stood like some giant monolith to unfairness and social injustice against the backdrop of the morning sun, concrete and brick with pillars of stone. A banner stood out, white against grey with big, bold letters. Welcome to Winslow, Heart of the Bay.

I shook my head, walking inside. Somehow Lung's Casino, a literal criminals den, had seemed less corrupt than Winslow.

-

I walked through the hall, heading straight my homeroom. My bag, as it was, weighed heavily on my shoulders, but better than the alternative of using my locker. A girl snickered as I passed on my way through the halls, breaking into whispers with her small group of friends.

I looked turned my head as they left in an attempt to ignore it. The rumors were normal; I had run out of class. And while skipping was common, this was more visible. The rumor mill would be filled to the brim for a while. 'Did she do something wrong?' 'Why'd she run from a cop?' The only real constant was that someone, somehow, would think I was pregnant.

"Taylor," someone said, and I looked to my left. Red hair, blue eyes; it was Emma all right. "So you really came back. Grandpa didn't manage to lock you away?"

"He wasn't after me in the first place," I said, brushing past. I heard footsteps behind me, sped of my steps.

"Really. It didn't look that way to me," she said, moving up to keep pace. "Then why were you running?"

To get away from you?

I already wanted to leave, and I hadn't even reached my first class.

I just kept on moving, staying silent, ignoring her.

Emma glanced at me sidelong, with a small, secret grin.

I sped up my steps, moving even faster, my bag's constant pounding burning pain through my back. I stopped, shoulders slumping, and moved to the corner.

"Sophia," I said, panting for breath.

"Hebert," she responded, leaning into my space. I moved away as she closed, backing into the wall. "Was that backbone I heard?"

I didn't dare to respond, not when she was like this. There was sweat on her skin, she ran the way here, and she's always more aggressive when her bloods running hot. This isn't looking good. How am I supposed to get out?

Looking to the side I eyed my homeroom door, hoping Ms. Knott had come early. The door swung open, but it was Madison instead, joining Emma and Sophia and closing their circle. My hand flashed out, ready to manifest my ball, and then remembered I couldn't and it curled in a fist. Sophia eyed me at that, jerking at me with her thumb. "What's gotten into Hebert? It's like she's looking for a fight."

"No," I said. "I'm really not."

Emma chose to ignore me, speaking over my head. "Well, what if she is? Would you be willing to give her one?"

"Yeah," Sophia said, shoving my shoulder into the wall. "I don't see why not."

They were bolder today, using more than just words. They should have been quiet after the locker. They were quiet all yesterday! Something changed in my absence, or when I was at school-

Wait. Don't tell me.

"You guys really believe it," I said, my panic fading away. "You all really think that Villers came here for me."

Emma arched her eyebrows, smiling sweetly, and gave me a pat on the shoulder. The one not being crushed in Sophia's grip. "Well, from what Gramps told me on the phone, he came here to investigate something."

"Funny how that works," Sophia said, pushing me back into the wall. "An Asian businesswoman get's kidnapped on the day that you're missing. Next day the Police chief comes calling, and you actually run? I mean, I know you're white trash, but I never did take you for a Nazi, Hebert."

Beat

"So you think," I said slowly, "that I pulled that off."

"Nah, you're not smart enough," said Madison offhand. "I mean just look at your grades! Maybe you were involved, but only as an accomplice."

I shifted my shoulder, trying to reach a spot of comfort, but Sophia's grip just grew tighter, and Emma's hand bore down harder. "If I was somehow involved, then why am I here? Villers would have me arrested and kicked out of town."

"Deniability," Sophia said. "A tangential involvement. Maybe you said the right words, had her lured to the spot, at just the right place, and just the right time."

"I'm sorry Taylor," Emma said, looking on with mock horror, "but I can't be your friend. Not with an accomplice to murder."

"No one died," I retorted.

Emma grinned viciously. "So you admit you're involved."

I paused, breathing , and stopped just reacting, smoothing my face. "No. I won't do this. I was in no way involved. Can we skip this whole session and just move on to class?"

Sophia just grabbed me, dragging me from the wall. I kicked at her feet, knowing this would get worse. She shifted, and shoved me, pushing me down the hall. "Maybe you're not a Nazi, but there's something you did. Cleans don't run from cops likes that, and you did something for backbone.

"So fess up," Sophia said, "You kill someone lately?"

I flinched.

"Holy shit," Emma whispered. "Just no fucking way."

"I didn't," I said, my voice sounding feeble to me.

Madison backed away, her face slowly paling, but Sophia just smiled, gripping tighter, hand fisting at her side.

"Well what do you know. You're a criminal, Taylor. So who was it," she pressed. "One of the minders, one of her guards?"

"I didn't-!"

"There it is then. You've got some real brass balls," she said, sounding nearly impressed. "Well whatever, we're done here. This makes everything easy." Sophia reared back her fist, preparing to strike. I closed my eyes tightly, not holding my breath.

"Just do it," I said, awaiting her fist. And waiting. And waiting.

Badump. Badump.

"Yo."

x-x

3.2

Seka stood in the hallway with one hand on her hip, swinging her purse in a loose, lazy arc. She ignored Emma and Madison, favoring me with an arch of her brow. I rubbed my shoulder where Sophia had gripped, grateful Seka had shown up like she'd mentioned yesterday. I took a step to the right but Emma's leg blocked it, moving backwards to close the trio's tight circle. No luck there I guess.

Sophia turned to face Seka, jerking her head back at me. "Move along. We're just dealing with a Nazi."

"A Nazi," Seka drawled, tilting her head. "You know, I just don't see it. You sure you got the right person?"
Emma smiled, apparently over her shock.

"I know right? You wouldn't expect it of Taylor. But hey, remember when someone was kidnapped on the news? That one Asian lady who owns the clinic on the docks? What's her name, Nakane or something... Well, get this; we think Taylor's be behind it."

"This is Hebert we're talking about, remember? She won't be behind this," Sophia said, giving Seka a once over. "I haven't seen you around here. You a senior or what?"

"Something like that," Seka said, waffling a hand up and down as she casually stepped closer, reaching a hand out towards Emma who took a quick step away.

Emma's smile was shaky, slowly backing away, while Madison had freaked as soon as Seka moved closer, backing up to the wall. Sophia was the only one who really kept her cool, still blocking me off from any avenue of escape, but even she had her tells, her arms we tensed and there was a knot in her shoulders. The whole trio looked spooked now, but couldn't seem to see why.

The signs were obvious to me, but then I've spent time around Seka. Her walk was too casual, her smile held too much teeth, and her steps to move closer had been a little too fluid. There was danger in her motions hidden just under the surface, the same that Sophia had sometimes, now that I thought about it. I wasn't scared because this was directed at them, but I was still curious. She was drawing this out. That wasn't really like her; she just goes for the throat. What didn't I know?

Just what is she planning?

"Still, seems a little harsh," Seka said. "Doing all this because you think she might be involved? Looks more like a straight beat down than anything else."

"It's not just a might," Emma said, stepping forwards. "She was actually involved, my grandpa all but confirmed."

"Yeah?"Seka asked. "So why the hell should that matter?"

"His names Cedric Villers, the current Chief of Police" Emma said, with a quick, firm nod.

Seka's lips twitched upwards, lopsided on her left, and she met my gaze briefly, eyes flicking to her right. I couldn't see anything, it still gave me clue. The hall to her right led straight to the entrance, and with all the commotion I doubt we'd hear anything.

"But he didn't confirm it?" Seka asked, pressing forwards. Emma nodded.

"He may as well have. Just wait for a second, think of the victim. That Nakane woman would be pleased we were acting so quickly." Seka grinned, moving closer, stepping into her space.

"Yeah? Well want to know what I think?"

"Sure," Emma said, as Sophia loomed over Seka. "Go on. Tell us what you think."

Crack

Seka retracted her hand, the palm of it still open. "I think," she said slowly, "that you're all full of shit."

Emma's head twisted back, her face a mask of shock, raising a hand to gingerly prod her right cheek. Sophia tensed, Madison startled, but before anyone could react Villers stepped around the corner.

"Seka," he said as he walked from the hall. He moved past the trio, setting a hand on my shoulder. "That was not necessary."

Seka shrugged. "The bitch had it coming."

Villers just sighed.

"Oh yeah," Seka said, taking Emma by the hand. "The name's Seka Nakane. The pleasure is mine."

Emma turned to Villers, hand still touching her cheek.

"Grandpa, what are you doing? Didn't you hear what she said?"

"Yes," he said, leaning down to look her in the eye, "but I heard what you said as well. I'm disappointed in you, Emma, I thought better of you."

"But Taylor's a criminal!"

"No, she is not."

"Then why did you need my help? Why'd you ask me to investigate?"

Villers' spine straightened, and he stood up, tall, his hand weighing on my shoulder with comforting warmth.

"While I was here to investigate and enlisted your help, I wasn't looking for a villain, but a witness, a hero instead."

"No," Emma said, eyes flicking to me. "Taylor? You can't mean that. She's too much of a wuss." Seka studied her nails, leaning back to the wall.

"Y'know, without her, my mom would be dead."

Villers raised his eyebrow at that, watching me and Seka with interest. I gave him a nod, and he inclined his head, and that was just that. Emma and Madison's expressions were variations of gobsmacked, while Sophia, on the other hand, almost seemed worried, but it was subdued, kept under control.

"So," she said, casually. "How much did you hear?"

"Well, I arrived a bit after Seka, but I think I heard enough," he replied, eye the trio. "You three are coming with me to meet with Ms. Blackwell."Emma's eyes shifted, and she pointed to Seka.

"What about her? You saw what she did, isn't she coming too?" Seka leaned forwards, amused, swinging her purse.

"I'm twenty, kid, and graduated high school at fifteen. You'd be lucky to graduate by the time you're my age."

"Seka. That's quite enough for now."

"Sure thing Chief," she deferred, heading back towards the door. She paused, grabbed my hand, and dragged me out of his grasp. "So I'll just be taking Taylor, we have plans for today."

I blinked.

"Plans?" he asked archly. "Doesn't Taylor have school?"

"Plans," she stressed. "Very big plans. The type that can't wait, if you know what I mean."

Villars frowned, and then hesitated, studying me with care.

"Are you sure this can't wait? She seems in dire need of a rest."

I just nodded, somewhat dazedly, a buzz riding through my body. My hands couldn't stop shaking and I was feeling lightheaded. I didn't get exactly what happened, but everything worked out okay, and whatever Seka was after, it sure seemed important. Her hand squeezed mine repeatedly in an ever changing pattern. I couldn't really decipher it, but it felt like Morse code.

"I'm certain," I said, and Villers slowly nodded.

"If that's the case you can leave, I will make the excuses." He turned to the trio, a scowl crossing his features. "But as for you three, well…"

Their voices seemed to drop as we exited the doors, and Seka turned, smile wide, eyes sky blue in the sun. Her foot tapped the sidewalk, and her head swayed to the side.

"So," she asked lightly, "Was I part of the plan?"

Well, I thought she'd be coming later today, but…"Yeah?"

"Bitchin," she said, "that execution was genius. The timing, the people…anyway, let's hurry, and you should get yourself changed. We wouldn't want poor Mr. Calvert to get his knickers in a twist."

x-x

3.3

"That bastard," Seka seethed, slamming her palm on the counter. "Calvert asks us to hurry, then says to wait another hour? He's just wasting our time. We could have our meeting now, easy. Hell, we could even have two!"

"Mmm," I said, sipping on my soda, studying the menu that laid out before me. All liver and tofu. Bleh, so annoying. I mean I wouldn't have minded if it fit the whole theme, but that seemed to be foxes, which got a kick out of Seka.

Her whining, though, was getting kind of annoying. She was the one who had set this all up. I was just dragged along for the ride.

Though her idea did have some merit. I mean an actual identity for my other, for this, form? That could be invaluable when dealing with officials. A little bit illegal, but not enough to matter. I mean, protecting capes' identities was in the rules, wasn't it?

"So," Seka said, leaning over to check out my menu. "You, ah, going to get anything?"

"Eventually," I said, absently chewing at a nail. I didn't get anywhere, it seemed nearly invincible, but the habit was there, and I didn't try breaking it. "It's just so hard to choose."

"Take your time," Seka said, going back to her food, eyes straying my way every once in a while. Fried tofu for her, and it did look tasty, but I was craving some meat, and with liver right there…

"I think I've decided," I said, looking down at the menu.

"Go on," she said, a little too intently, but I decided to ignore it, filing it away. Seka and weirdness aren't really strangers.

"Excuse me ma'am," I said, waving for the cook. "I'll have the-"

"Kitsune."

I turned around, looking down from my stool. A girl, maybe four, seemed to address me.

"Excuse me?" I asked, just to make sure. "Were you talking to me?" She nodded, eyes wet, her little pigtails bobbing. I heard a thump to my right, but Seka's a big girl, she'd be okay.

"Yes, Kitsune. Can you help get my ball? It's stuck in a bubble, and I can't get it out…"

"Mara! Get back here! Stop bothering the lady," a ruffled man said, scooping up his small daughter. His eyes fixed cutely on the still-squirming girl as he babbled out apologies for imaginary slights. "I'm sorry, she's just four, you know how it is-" He stopped, cheeks paling, as his eyes reached my face.

"Can I help you? And what's with Kitsune?" I asked, eyes straying to the girl, still trying to escape from her dad's arms. I was worried for the man, he wasn't looking so good, but his daughter was just so adorable that I couldn't look away.

"Ah, no ma'am, I'm sorry, it's really nothing important, and that's just what they're calling you, well, those of us that were there-"

"There?" I asked, touching a hand to my chin. "You mean at the hospital? You know who I am?"

"Yes," he admitted, daughter still in his arms, silently pouting and avoiding his gaze. "We were stuck by the window when Hookwolf attacked."

"And what's with Kitsune?"

"That's what everyone called you."

"We saw everything," his daughter piped in. "Even the bubble! Uhm… Miss Kitsune, can you help get my ball?"

"Wait," I said, my hand raising, mulling everything over. "Just give me a second, I have a few questions. So your ball's stuck in a bubble, like the one at the lot?"

"Yes!" she said, nodding, hair tufts flopping like ears.

I looked back towards the cook, who was staring wide-eyed. I was outed, of course, and before a day had even passed. But I couldn't blame the little girl; my heart just wasn't in it. Well, if it didn't spread too far, it wouldn't really matter, right? I mean people already saw me, so…

"Can you keep a secret?" I begged, hands clasped to my chest. The woman behind the counter nodded furiously, hair flying all over.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. "I won't tell a soul."

Well, she seemed earnest enough, so I decided to believe her. I turned to the girl, hopping off my seat, scrunching down just a bit so our eyes could be level. This wasn't exactly necessary, and had its own risks, but using my powers for something as frivolous as this…it appealed to me somehow, in a way fighting didn't. A way to help people without harming them as well. Besides, this form was already outed, if only a little. If no one else sees… well, where's the harm?

"So where's your ball now?" I asked, and she pointed left.

"It's that way!" I nodded.

"Were there people nearby?"

"Nope! All clear!"

"Well, just try to keep this secret," I said, smoothing a lock of her hair. "As long as you promise not to call me Kitsune." Her nose scrunched up cutely.

"But that's what you are!"

"What people called you, she means," her father cut in. He shifted her to one arm, the other wiping his brow. "Honey, you still have to stop. She doesn't want people to know."

"Oh, you don't?" she asked, her face to his chest, eyes peeking through a small veil of hair.

"Nope! Not at all."

"Oops!" she said, lowering her voice to a whisper, looking around. "I won't. I promise."

"You don't have to do this," her father said. "It's just a ball anyway, not that big of a deal…"

"I would be going there anyways," I said, smiling, eying Seka. "Someone was messy, so I need to clean up." She scoffed, rolled her eyes, then got up from her seat, making me smile. In Seka speak that was like begging for forgiveness.

She makes it hard to remember that she's really a villain.

"Yeah sure, let's go. We've got an hour to spare."

She stood up, slapped down cash, and joined me next to the man, and he led us at a walk, arms rising and falling in small, bobbing motions.

Seka walked behind us, grumbling under her breath, casting one last forlorn glancee at the little food booth.

-

"Yo Sierra," Seka said, eying the bubble of artificially slowed time. I recognized the alley, we'd fought Cricket near here. "You hear someone nearby?" I cocked my head, listening, shaking my head with a frown.

"Not really? But it's too hard to tell. Your-" I looked to the right, at the child and her parent "- thing that you bought makes a lot of white noise."

"It's a privacy device. What the hell did you expect?" My ears twitched on my head, one tail swishing behind me.

"Something less noisy, but I'll just go ahead." I removed my ears and my tail, surrounding my whole arm in essence, and nabbed the little girl's ball.

"So we went through all this effort to keep it safe for what, this?" Seka deadpanned, staring at my hand. "That took two seconds. Two fu- "

"Language!"

"-dging seconds!"

I shook my head, handing the ball to the girl. She looked up at me brightly, bobbing her head. She ran back to her dad who then walked her away.

"Thank you Kitsune!"

"It's Sierra!" I called shaking my head. "I really shouldn't have bothered. I mean Kitsune? What-"

"Yo," Seka said, hand slapping my side. "We got company."

Shorts, dreadlocks, and dark chocolate skin disappeared into the alley off to the side, only to be gently pushed back, revealing a girl. She looked everything that I wasn't, not in my normal form at least. Slender and curved with a sure, athletic bent, ruined by hair dye and ratty torn jeans.

I had nothing to be jealous of, not now at least, but this isn't really me, and well…Oh my god her brother.

You could tell they were related, there's no mistaking those genes. What she was for girls, he was for men. Tall and well-muscled in a toned, developed way, his sleek, plainer clothes only helped show them off, looking way too slick for this side of the docks. He pushed her along with a small twitch of his lips.

"Whatever Aisha did, I apologize in advance."

I probably should have responded, but my face froze in neutral, and nothing came out of my mouth. I think Seka noticed, because she got this devilish grin.

"Brian," Aisha said, eyes darting between us." Now's really not the time."

"Better now than later," he said, eyes roaming the alley. "We can't find your phone by running in the opposite direction."

"You know what? That's fine," Aisha side. "I've decided to swear off phones. Horrible things corrupting the youth nowadays, I'm better off without it. So..." She turned, trying to run through the alley, but he caught her by the arm.

"Aisha," he said, "we're not leaving without it."

"Oh come on!" she said. "Can't you just buy me another? You've got more than enough money. Think of it like a get out of Christmas free card, via casa Aisha." Seka snorted, moving forwards, circling the duo.

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf…" Aisha's eyes widened, and she seemed to shrink into Brian, who had a raised eyebrow, but otherwise didn't seem fazed. I was kind of glad she did, it spurred me to action, but seeing the results, I mostly felt worried.

"Seka. That's enough. You're scaring her," I said.

And you might scare him away!

"Yeah, fine, got it," she said, waving casually and moving back to my side. Aisha watched her go warily, while Brian just snorted. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think of a way to avert this disaster.

"Sorry about that," I said, attempting a large smile, settling for a twitch of my lips. "Seka can be so immature at times."

"Oh don't worry about it," he said with large, boyish, breathtaking smile, "I know exactly how it is." Aisha, at his side, shot him a glare.

Seka sniggered.

"Yes," I said, doing my best to ignore them. "Immature, noisy, and extremely irresponsible." I shot a quick glare at the floating time bubble.

Seka, for her part, broke into chuckles.

"Ah," he said, nodding, "So she lost something in there as well? I just noticed Aisha's cellphone; it's there at the top." He pointed, frowning, and I followed his gaze, a one of the newer models out in bright bubblegum pink.

"Well," I said, over Seka's small fits of laughter, "I don't know about that, but I'm sure she just lost something."

Like what's left of her mind.

"Yeah," he said, shrugging, "Aisha gets like that sometimes. Little sisters can be so much trouble, you know?"

Sisters?

Seka broke into laughter."Yeah, thanks a lot sis."

Brian shook his head, slowly moving closer.

"You know," he said, pausing, "you have some beautiful eyes. Just thought i'd let you know that."

Badump.

My mind went blank, smile frozen on my face. I tried to think in words, but all that came out was 'bwuh'

Badump. Badump.

"Hey, Brian - back up! You should give her some space."

Brian paused. "What for?"

Aisha? I love you.

"First of all, eww. Second? She's a cape."

Aisha? Go to hell.

x-x

3.4

The alley was still, save for the drip-drop of liquid, leaking slowly from a kicked over can. I shifted my feet away from the spill, straightening my stance, taking a breath to regain my composure. Brian hadn't moved back and his stance hadn't change, but his muscles were tense, and his eyes were shadowed. I heard Seka shift.

Click

"No."

"But-"

"No. Seka, these people are not to be harmed."

"That girl is a loudmouth. A security leak. We don't take her now, who knows what would happen?"

I shifted my gaze, meeting Seka's eyes. "You didn't do this earlier."

"That girl was only four. No one cares what they say."

"Seka," I said, nerves fraying," that's enough."

Seka clicked her tongue, removing her hand from her purse with a shrug. "Whatever. But this will bite you in the ass."

I turned back to Brian, shaking my head. "I'm-"

"She apologizes," he said, putting a hand on Aisha's shoulder. Her feet moved out of sync before she caught his stride, head dipping for a second as he pushed her forwards. "Aisha, go on."

"Apologize?"

"Yes," he said, pressing down with his hand. "Capes identities are important. Apologize. Now."

She shot him a look. "Like that will make it all better."

"It's a start," he said, "and will show that you mean it when you say that you will never tell anyone again." He looked up, holding my gaze. He was serious. He actually thought I would hurt her.

"Look," I said, raising my hand, "There's no reason for all of this. I'm not mad, just disappointed is all."

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you're a little too blasé about this," Brian said. Not relaxing, I noted. "This is important."

"We'll, this isn't really new," I said, shrugging. "I've already been outed, what, twice by now? Not counting you guys. Sorry about Seka, she just overeacted."

Seka shifted, rolling her eyes. "I thought you wanted this kept secret."

"I do," I said, "but not at the expense of…that." Brian tensed at my emphasis, but then he slouched a bit more, not looming as much. Finally relaxing.

"Well, just so you can make sure, she really is sorry…" He eased up his grip, tapping Aisha on the shoulder. She walked forwards, one step. I smiled, trying not to look threatening. She took another, then another, gaining her confidence.

"Sorry," she mumbled, turned away, and then did a double take. "So hey, you were already outed, right?"

"Yeah?" I asked, watching her swiftly turn around.

"…Mind telling me who you are?"

Now I felt like rolling my eyes, but couldn't see the harm of it at this point.

"You promise to keep this a secret?"

"Yep!" she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Well," I said, brushing back some stray hair, "I'm not too sure myself. I mean yesterday I would have had a name, but after the incident at the clinic…"

"Suns and crosses?" Aisha piped in.

"Yeah," I said, blinking. She'd heard about it?

"Oh. My. God. You're Kitsune!" she exclaimed, turning to Brian. "She's the one I was telling you about this morning!"

"The one who fought Hookwolf?" he asked, eying me appraisingly. Aisha bounced.

"Yeah! She even fits the description! There are a few vids of her up, though no one managed to catch her face…sick mask by the way, you rock the femme fatale look."

I scratched my head, and Seka puffed up beside me. "Thanks?"

"Yeah well anyways, I know why you're here," Aisha said, grinning, pointing at the bubble. "To take down that thing, right?"

Well, just to grab a ball, but now that I thought about it…"Yeah."

"You can do that?" Brian questioned, eying the bubble.

"Sierra's got some major mojo. Time's just one of em," ," Seka said, before turning to Aisha. "But anyways, you mentioned something about the mask."

"The masks design was amazing," Aisha said with a grin. Seka moved closer, their expressions now mirrored.

"I know, right?" Seka said. "A stroke of pure genius!"

"It made your sister seem edgy, and hard to recognize too! I mean her bod was the same, but…"

Brian met my gaze, and we moved off to the side, watching Aisha get excited and fueling Seka's ego. I could get why he thought I was older I guess, she's smaller, hard to place, and was acting so childish. I couldtell him otherwise, but it was our only connection. If I do tell him the truth, he might decide to run, and I didn't want to leave him with a negative impression.

"Well, at least they get along," I murmured under my breath. Brian shook his head in agreement, watching them chatter.

"Yeah. That's surprising, considering your sisters reaction."

"Well, Aisha's stroking her ego, so now they're all good."

"Your sister created that mask?"

"Designed it," I corrected. Which was actually true, to the best of my knowledge. I doubt Seka would want him to know that she made it. "There are actually videos?"

"Yeah, just clips of it though." He reached into his pocket, taking out a phone. He did something to the screen, and then played a small clip. It felt weird to see myself running from Hookwolf, but at least my back was turned so no one caught my face. Brian exited, and scrolled, showing me another. Me with my back turned, again, tails swishing behind me, receiving an umbrella from Chief Cedric Villers.

"The only other clip shows you walking indoors," he said, pocketing the phone, "but you get the gist of it, all mysterious and brief. The media is having a field day over you."

I groaned. With my limited disguise and everyday clothes, this wasn't helping me keep this identity secret, not that I was doing that good of a job myself.

"Relax," Brian said with a large, boyish smile. "Their attention will fade once something new comes along."

"Well, I can hope," I said, leaning back to the wall with a deep, breaching sigh. "I've had enough craziness for now without the media on my tail."

"I know that feeling," he said, and we fell silent for a bit. While watching the other two squabble over something, I checked my watch. Twenty minutes left until our meeting with Calvert.

"Hey Brian."

"Yeah?"

"Mind watching the alley for a second?" I asked, tilting my head to the bubble.

"Can do," he said, moving towards the entrance, giving me a thumbs up when he got there. I nodded, moving to the bubble, preparing to disrupt…and couldn't.

Huh. That's…disappointing.

"Yo, something the matter?" Seka asked.

"Nothing," I said, erasing my frown, glancing at Seka from the corner of my eye. "Something I expected, but was hoping I was wrong."

Seka nodded her understanding, eying the bubble, before turning back to Aisha. "So...where were we?"

"I think it was that one game. You know, crazy people, annoying robots, lots of explosions…"

"Right! Anyways, it sounds like they had some pretty good ideas for their explosives, but what they had in variety they lost in originality, but this gave me some ideas…"

Leaving them to their mystifying debate, I surrounded my hand in essence, placing a hand on the bubble. I shed a bit of my veil, trying at one. Nope. Two? Nada. Three? Negatory. Four, five, six, seven, eight…

I paused, reticent, if not as reticent. I still felt like this was betraying myself, cheating in a way, but not enough to stop me.

My bag slipped off my shoulder, and I dug near the bottom, feeling around the edges for the secret compartment. Seka seemed to love the things, commissioning my bag with no less than ten, which I kind of maybe had a hard time telling them apart. I pulled out my mask, frowned, before pulling it on, securing the latches and releasing the rest of my veil.

Placing my hand on the bubble of false time, I took a moment to admire all the items inside, floating slowly, barely imperceptibly, to the ground. An interesting sight, on you didn't see every day, I made a mental to note to ask Seka about using them sometime to create a slow-art display. A new brand, perhaps, breaking away from the mold?

Well, no matter. There's business to conclude.

I released all the layers, isolating them with my essence, creating a small spill of objects that pattered down to the ground, anything from balls to bullets, which I let escape into the walls, catching Aisha's cellphone while a knife passed my face. Defusing this one was dull compared to the other. Less color. Less danger. Less sheer sense of power. But this was for the best, mustn't hope for more conflict.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice annoyingly distorted by the changer of the mask. Perhaps Seka could remove the synthesizer? An idle question for an idler time.

"I apologize," I said, inclining my head in Brians direction, "but I'm afraid we have to go, we have prior commitments." I tossed Aisha's phone which he caught without complaint, in an easy, smooth motion I couldn't help but admire. Mmm. I walked past in a loose, slow circle, drawing a path of blue fire through the air with my hand.

"We'll have to do this again sometime," I said with a nod. He nodded back without flinching, seeming more curious than anything. Progress!

"So, where you guys going?" Aisha asked with a frown. I smiled in response, though she couldn't see it.

"Just a simple appointment. I believe I'm expected."

x-x

3.5 Seka Nakane

I couldn't tell if the guy in front of us had a boner or was pissing his pants. With how close Sierra was to him, it could have been either, heck, even both. Her hand was on the door and her face beneath his, their chests almost touching as she intruded his space with a curious blend of danger and allure. Half was the mask, badass as it was, a beautiful study of sharp, fierce edges and delicate curves. Genius. Yep. No doubt about it.

The other half, maybe more, that was all just Sierra. A sleek, deadly package, smooth curves and crème skin with the undulation of muscles just beneath the surface. Her movement looked sick, but insanely hard to pull off. I managed to copy some, but not to the same effect.

Subtle in a way that's hard to see, she's graceful as a willow and strung like a bow. I mean you give her a once over, you think she's just got it. You look once again, and think you actually might place it. But keep looking for all you want, you're not going to find it. It's not really there, all in the back of your head where there's this little, prehistoric beast just screaming to run.

The man managed well, I'll give him that much, didn't give her an inch but his game was still up. Bug eyed and tight lipped with a small hint of panic, he tried to tell her off anyways by running his mouth.

"Ma'am," the guard said, gulping, his eyes straying down her tank. He shook that off quickly, riveting on her mask. The danger was to him as a sailor to his ship, and he straightened his posture, gently pushing her back.

"Ma'am," he said, with a firm, even tone. "Thomas Calvert's not ready. You'll just have to wait."

"I'm not here for Calvert," she said, with a saunter and step. He shifted, pulling back, trying to regain in his bubble.

"Ma'am," he said, stopping, raising a cautionary hand, "I'm on the job, and I'm married."

"And that matters, how?" she said with a smile in her voice, hair tickling her arms as she traced a finger along the lines of his gun. "Let loose. Indulge me. Let's have some real fun."

Whew.

The guy opened his mouth, thought the better of it, and decided to cut his losses, retreating inside, making a beeline for the office.

"Well," I said, moving closer, as she leaned against the wall, "that's one way to cut through red tape."

"That…didn't go as I planned," she said, sighing. I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah? Dancing to tango?"

"Not particularly," she said, bringing a finger to her chin. "He just seemed so experienced. I was hoping for a fight."

"What."

"Yes," she said, tails lashing behind her. "He was a dangerous man, I could tell by his movements. Smooth, trained, always searching for threats…a rare trait nowadays, even in soldiers. He lives for conflict. You could trace them in his scars."

"So when you said 'fun'…"

"It's what he enjoys."

Yeah, it's official. Ki- Gu- Fox spirits are crazy.

"You sure he wasn't enjoying something else?" I prodded.

"Positive," she replied. "Would you care for a bet?"

Yeah, no.

"You know what? Maybe later," I said, jerking my head to the door. The gun monkey waved us in with nary a care, a different one this time. Thank holy Scion, the golden idiot in the sky.

The walls were as boring as any other office, cut from the same cloth with cookie cutting accuracy. Smooth, off white, and easy to ignore, no art, no life, all a piece of the machine. You'd think people with money would buy something better.

Their quality, though, was incredibly good. You'd think the guy was kind of paranoid with how bullet proof the things were. If I were to place it, I'd say some titanium alloy. Tinker made, by the looks of it, good workmanship, decent materials.

I tapped on a window, listening as we passed. Bulletproof. I'd swear by it. Every single one.

What's that Sierra said earlier? About that man being dangerous? This seems more like a fortress than any office I've seen. And I wouldn't have noticed.

Damn. This guy's good.

"Yo Calvert! Sweet digs!" I called, waving my hand as we entered the room. I was greeted by silence. Three seconds of it. He adjusted his suit and stacked some papers.

"Miss Nakane. Good to see you again. And-" he paused. "You must be Sierra. I expected you in plainclothes."

"Hmm? Well, something came up," she said, reaching of his desk to pluck the book from the top. Her tails settled behind her, slowly waving on the floor.

"I see," he said, after another small pause, providing a pen and pushing his stack. "Well then, let's just get down to business. I'll fetch the rest of your papers while you fill out these forms."

Calvert left the room with a nod, his anorexic b-ball player frame barely clearing the door. Leaning over the desk, I checked what Sierra was signing. Looked like basic PRT fare, sign your name here and check this box there. The only important bits were 'Independent hero' and codename…

Kitsune.

"That's a nice name," I said, studying my nails, trying not to look over.

"I suppose," she said, finishing the name with a loose, elegant scrawl.

"Good signature too," I observed.

"Mmm," she said, pen dancing across the paper.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.

Yeah, she's not giving me anything to work with.

"So," I said, kicking back in my seat," what's taking him so long?"

"Any number of things," she said, flipping the stack over, tracing the lines with an elongated nail. "I heard paper shifting, water flowing, and several phone calls. He was never answered, though he attempted to speak twice."

"Sounds like a jilted girlfriend," I said, leaning to the side, studying the room. A desk, some chairs, a bookshelf, and a few PRT recruitment posters. Standard fare besides the giant honking mirror taking up a wall. Sierra pushed her paperwork over to Calvert's side of the desk, looking my way with a shake of her head.

"Unlikely. He sounded serious, a little frazzled."

"You know this doesn't prove me wrong, right?"

She shrugged, flipping her hair and crossed her legs, folding her hands on her knee.

"Call it a feeling."

"Whatever," I said, and we settled down in silence. The clock ticked by and boots beat in the halls. I reached for my phone while Sierra plucked a book from Calverts desk. Her ears twitched atop her head, moving towards the mirror, but other than that nothing much happened. I never did like waiting, but didn't mean I couldn't do it. I like to think I made an art of it. So when the door finally opened, I responded with grace. I raised my hand to my forehead to give him my best, the sum of my respect, the grand standing one-fingered salute.

"Nice to see I'm appreciated," said the man entering the room. "Never thought to see manners on an American woman."

"Yeah?" I said, showing my teeth. "Well glad you appreciate it, I gave it my all. When you see Calvert, make sure to do him the same. The man deserves everything you can give him."

He chuckled, sitting down, looking completely out of place with his red dyed hair and cut-off vest, showing off a plethora dusky brown skin. He made the office seem too neat, where with Calvert it just fit, leaning an arm on the on the desk as he took the man's seat. "Calvert is busy, but I'll pass it on, yes? But come, let's move on, this is not what we're here for."

He adjusted his earpiece, taking a look at the stack. "Well, these seem to be in order. Let's move on to the meat. So you don't have an identity."

"Well, not yet." Sierra laid down her book, taking a pen from the desk. She wedged it in the pages with a deft motion, depositing the bundle to the side of her hand. "But that's what you're here for, if my guess is correct."

"Calvert hires many men," he said, shrugging his vest. "We have many different backgrounds, but I'm one of the best. Come, let's walk, we have much to discuss."

He opened his hand, standing up from the desk, camera swinging on his belt as he motioned us up, flicking a hand to my head as he passed. I kicked out as his ankles, but he dodged with a smile, a single step moving faster, and he made it seem easy. Damn, this guy was good.

"So the best," Sierra stated, letting the word hang in the air.

"I'm the best at many things."

"What's your expertise here?"

He moved to the window, closing the blinds with a tug, choosing to ignore her as he motioned for the door. "When crafting an identity, there are more than just papers."

"But their fucking important," I pointed out with a glare. He waved me off, smiling lightly, moving us through the door.

"Just icing, window dressings. There is oh so much more. Come, let's get moving. We have much to discuss."

"Well I suppose I can't decline," Sierra said with a twist, leaping up with grace, landing next to the man.

"Okay, I'll bite too," I said, making my way over.

"Ah, I never got your names," the man said with as he turned, one finger in the air and his left eyebrow raised.

"Sierra."

"The Names Seka."

"You can call me Rasheed." He moved, Sierra followed, and I kept step with a frown.

-

Taylor

Rasheed wasn't expected, but I wasn't about to complain. Fine, Arabic features on a tall, dynamic package. He brought some life to the meeting I'd felt lacking before, though while Seka appeared more excited, she didn't like him as well, and it amused me quite a bit.

"So you decide to walk in and tell us what to do?"

"I'm an expert," he said, grinning, flashing pearly white teeth. "When I speak, you should listen, I do this for a living."

"Spouting bullshit?" she asked.

"Create identities," he replied. "I take image and falsities, and forge them into truth. That's what you're here for, yes? Then listen, stop speaking."

"I'll listen when you explain," Seka said, rolling her eyes.

Rasheed turned to me instead, with a brief hand wave. "Could you please remove your mask? It would help me demonstrate. Release your tails if you could, I assume you can look human."

I did so, amused, unclasping my mask with a smile. I tightened my veil, yet kept my ball full. If my personality changed too much, I'm sure he'd be suspicious.

"Is this good?" I asked, smiling, with a brief, upright spin. He hummed in appreciation, turning around to face Seka.

"Do you see what she did? Your impression, if you please."

"Amused, playful, graceful," she said with a shrug.

"That's her image as we see it," he said, raising a hand. "First impressions always matter, but I'm betting there's more."

"Trying to find all my secrets?" I asked with a lilt, tilting my head, eyes wide open, to give an impression of guilt.

"Nothing of the sort," he said, with a brief, short lived chuckle. "I merely wish to know you better to help create a great I.D."

"You don't need to know her better," Seka said with a growl. "Some pictures, some papers, and bang! There you go."

"Come, you know better," Rasheed said, shaking his head. "Those I.D.'s barely pass scrutiny, there's barely any background. What is there can be wrong, and barely make it past screening. We're looking to make Sierra's perfect, so I'll need some prior knowledge.

"So tell me of yourself when we reach our destination," he said, turning to me with a smile. "You're likes, your dislikes, your favorite color perhaps?"

"Not my background?"

"I'm not a spy, merely here to write a story."

I hmmed in amusement. This man was obvious, bright and flashy, meant to attract my attention. My impression for Calvert? Efficient. He had something in the works. There was something behind this flash, but I'd play along to find out. It wouldn't take too long as we were nearly at the room.

Bright lights and white drapes ran from ceiling to floor, the clothes and costumes on the walls lending a splash of bright color. A girl stood in one corner, slowly moving to greet us. She had smooth blond hair and a smattering of freckles, light dancing in her eyes and a crooked side grin. Her grin seemed to falter as she took me in, fading to a bit of confusion before turning to Seka. Then it returned, even fuller. Perhaps the word vulpine fit? She moved closer, extending a hand, which I took for a shake.

"Hi, my name's Lisa. I'll be working the lights. I'll also help you with clothes, you know, for most of the shoots."

"Yeah? What's your credentials? I don't get why you're here." Seka scowled as she looked, not taking quickly to Lisa. They were similar in some ways, and different in others. Both shorter, blue eyes, though Seka seemed a bit more exotic. They shared attitudes I suppose, and were similar enough to clash.

"I'm a contractor," Lisa responded, "With a bent more towards fashion. I pick clothes, Rasheed shoots, you know how that goes."

"You working with Calvert?" Seka asked with a frown.

"Never met the man myself, just got sent by the boss." Lisa shrugged, still grinning and Seka moved more in her face.

"You're avoiding my question," Seka accused.

"You want credentials? I have them," Lisa retorted, waving her wallet. I saw an I.D., some history, a card. Seka grunted reluctantly, and I turned to Rasheed.

"So, you had questions?" I asked with a smile. He responded with his own, checking the back of his camera.

"Lisa's really the questioner, but let's start broad with you, yes? General likes and dislikes, like I asked you in the hall."

"Well I suppose I like reading, and heroes of course. My favorites Alexandria, I've liked her since childhood. My dislikes? Well hmm… I don't like my clothes." Rasheed raised an eyebrow at this, finished checking his camera.

"They look very flattering," he said, and I turned to eye Lisa. She'd been looking from the corner of her eye, turning away when I stared.

"Seka's idea, not mine," I said with a shrug. "I rarely care about clothes, preferring hoodies and sweats."

Seka snorted, and Lisa gestured, calling me towards all the racks. "Well let's get you dressed then, we've got to make these look real."

I moved closer with a nod, walking to the plainer section. Good quality and bad, some ratty, some dirty. "You've a variety to test," I observed with a nod.

"Part of being prepared," she said, shrugging slightly. "So, how about this grey and this purple? Doing recent right now."

"That works out fine," I said, taking the piece. Plain gray for the hoodie, it looked a little old. The sweats, likewise, seemed worn, something that puzzled me greatly. These were clothes I would wear, but not like the ones I was wearing. Mine were high quality, thought the sweats were still plain. I kept my smile up, glancing over towards Rasheed, who polished his lens, quite deliberately, while he'd not done so earlier. Was he providing her with cues, showing her where I fit?

He looked up, caught my eye, and winked as he stood. "While you may like those clothes, are they too similar to your past?" I heard Lisa move behind me, though I didn't turn around.

"Not at all," I lied, "but a change of pace would be nice. These might help hide my background without the shield of money."

"Well enough," he said, standing, walking to the center of the room. "Now if you'll stand before the screen, and strike a natural pose…just pretend that you're out strolling on a nice summer day. Yes, now just turn you're head, give me a smile? There! Perfect, yes?"

He took the shot from some angles, all grins and excitement, before waving me off, and Lisa took me from there. I caught Seka's eye from where she stood, a little off to the left, gaze darting, suspicious, briefly shaking her head. She also sensed something off, of course, that seemed quite obvious. But I couldn't find much with Rasheed, much to my disappointment.

Reading people seemed easy playing poker at Lung's casino, peoples tells showed as obvious and their goals even more. Every bluff, every card, everything was predicted, but from him just excitement, true happiness and deception. I couldn't tell why or how I was deceived, only knowing it happened. I didn't quite like that.

I traced my finger down the clothes, moving near something frilly. "I wore this as a child, but how would this even help?"

"We have access to Tinker's," Lisa said with a shrug. "To fool the government's system we need access to better. They can take your image now, extrapolate a picture as a child, take your stances, your expressions, and make them all appear real. More photos help them, of course, which is why we come in, but they do a pretty good job if I say so myself."

All of this seemed so innocent and every word was sincere, but her grin seemed to be fading while she spent time around me. I traced a finger on some clothes, letting some essence move over. Undetectable and invisible, yet did I see a slight flinch?

Looking over my shoulder, I saw Rasheed's finger tapping, casual and easy on the side of his hips. Seka's gaze met mine, and our eyes watched his movements. He smiled at this notice, taking everything in stride.

"Well then," he said, shrugging, "You can't really pose in those, but a few of you as a teen would be good for the tinkers. Express yourself more, your more vulnerable side, more innocent, less experienced, still facing the world."

Well there was a way I could do this, but it might give away the game. It might also confuse them, which might be more important. There was something going on, and it needed disruption, so only one thing to do…I drained myself from the ball. It shrunk, and shrunk, till it disappeared without fanfare, and I was back to normal. Well, except for the body.

I really hoped this wouldn't hurt me, though I think knew what I'd been doing. Throw them off a bit more? I could do that I guess.

I clasped my arms behind my back, trying to strike a good pose. It came out awkward, of course, but Rasheed seemed to love it. Lisa looked gobsmacked, but we paid her no mind, while Seka rolled her eyes without seeming affected.

"Is this good?" I asked, and he nodded vigorously.

"Of course! Of course! Now If you'll just hold that…"

"You'll have to pause that right now, I'm afraid this sessions over." Calvert stood in the doorway, face carefully neutral, his crisp business suit offsetting his spindly figure. He looked way more intimidating now, and seemed kind of angry.

"But we're not quite done," Rasheed argued with a frown.

"You have enough for an I.D."

"Well it's not quite ideal…"

"Enough of that," Calvert said, after a quick, small pause. "I have a very important guest, and he's asking for Kitsune."

I started at that, looking up with a gasp.

"For me? Who is it? And why is he here?"

"It's Assault," he said, sighing. "He doesn't like the word 'no.'"

x-x

3.6

"But don't you need more information?" I asked, looking at them sideways, "I mean like birth place, location, I haven't given you a last name…"

"Don't worry about that," Calvert said with a wave. "Those were provided by Seka before this all started. What matters now is Assault, he's very insistent. Rasheed, you come too."

Rasheed tilted his head. He packed up his camera, letting it hang at his belt, before moving to join him right outside the door. He turned, looking back, giving me a quick nod. "Well morning flower? Won't you come along?"

I could feel a blush growing from base of my neck, but I ignored and nodded. "Sure. I'll meet him."

"With your mask on of course," Calvert said with a nod. "Assaults visit isn't planned for, he's not privy to your face."

One of the towns acknowledged heroes, less privy than a criminal. I felt my smile twisting but I did as he asked, reaching down towards the seat where I'd placed the fierce thing. It still gave me some chills whenever I saw it, but it might help me deal with these people better if they couldn't see my reactions. I'd handled matters so easily with my feelings in the ball, but Lisa and Rasheed were intimidating with them out. They had this easy, sure confidence that made me feel out of place. Even Seka had that, though hers was closer to arrogance.

I donned the mask, clasps locking, and nodded to Calvert. "So why does Assault want to see me?"

"He wouldn't say." Calvert kept himself controlled, but his shoulders tightened slightly. Maybe a sign of aggression? He didn't seem to like surprises. When I'd walked into his office earlier, I could tell he was a bit off. I think that's why he excused himself, sending Rasheed in his place. A bit flashy, attention grabbing, and if my guess was correct, he was also a spy. When I'd had my ball filled, I'd noticed things. He just constantlymoved. Like almost everyone in this building, like he was always prepared. Eyes searching the room, ears kept wide open, this happened in his quieter moments when he wasn't speaking or acting.

I wish I could notice things like that all the time, but I just wasn't the same. Social cues? Body language? I never could read them. Why my other form was so good was some kind of mystery.

"So, are we going?" I asked, picking up my backpack. Calvert nodded, before pausing, and turning to Seka.

"Rasheed can only come because he's known to Assault. He's a very sharp man, so he might sense something off, or wonder why you're involved. If you could just stay back here, I'm sure Lisa could help you."

"Yeah? Not interested, I got better stuff to do." She put an arm around me as she passed, with a quick, small bump. "See you after this, yeah? Let's meet at Kenta's place. He's got some things he wants to show us, it'll be 'fun.'"

Kenta's place? The casino. Fun was poker night. Discussing dockworker's terms, it must be! I nodded with a grin.

"I'll see you there then."

"Yeah, catch you later." She shot one last glare at Lisa before striding from the room. Calvert waved and I followed, following his lead through the maze.

"That mask's disconcerting," Rasheed commented as we walked. "Your words might say one thing, but your tone says another." I could get where he came from, the tone also bugged me. But that was the point, wasn't it? And besides, Seka made it. Tinkertech of this quality was really hard to come by, so I didn't see myself discarding it in favor of something else.

"I'm still going to keep it," I said with a shrug. "It's been pretty useful, saved my life once I think."

"It just fit better before," he mused, looking sideways. "Right now it seems off. Did something happen?"

"Nothing," I said, avoiding his gaze. He was a spy, I reminded myself. Just try to keep cool. "Why are you confused? Am I different from what you expected?"

"Both yes and no," he said with a grin. "I never expected a puddle, but you're more like a pool. You seemed so different before, and just to add, vulnerable. Tell me, if I asked, would you be able to switch back?"

"Now that would be telling," I said, walking ahead. I kept pace with Calvert, dismissing the question. I didn't want to switch back, feeling myself was always nice. Besides, I'm meeting a Hero! A big name at that! Maybe he's here to recruit me? I might have to decline. I'd have to join the wards, I'm fifteen after all…

But wait, that's my age. Wouldn't Sierra be different?

"So," I asked lightly, trying to hide some of my interest. "What's on my I.D.? So I can know what to say."

"I wouldn't advise giving out information," Calvert cautioned with a look, "but name, age, and location are there all the same. Arianna Charrisa, born in 1990. Your birthday's January seventeenth, and you grew up around Boston. Seka said she'll fill you in if you have any questions. She chose Boston because no one knows you here, saying she could fill the details."

"Well, that's good to know," I said. So she thinks I'm 21? Boston's her home city, so she could give me the details..."But why not Sierra? I grew used to that name."

"Sierra's a codename, one meant for privacy," he replied, shaking his head. "It was used by the police, it will be in their report. You are an anonymous witness, Sierra being your actual name is suspicious."

"Well I guess Arianna's good…" but why'd Seka choose it? And why didn't she ask me? I would be using it. Calvert nodded, checked his watch, and then pushed through some doors, his fancy shoes striking with sharp kind of sound.

"The name was chosen by your backer, whoever that is. He said the meaning fits, though you may change it, of course."

I nodded, looking right, and decided against. I would look it up to see what Kenta meant. While he could have chosen this as Lung, I just pictured him amused. This would be an inside joke, he really seemed to enjoy them. This really annoyed me when I dealt with Seka at first, I mean I didn't get why she was so scared, but he simply chuckled.

"We're almost there," Rasheed said, rousing from silence. He moved ahead of Calvert, and nodding for me to pass. His smile out in force, he throw open the door. "Assault! My good friend! I have brought you a guest!"

Assault raised his hand in greeting, with a quick nod to Rasheed, though I think his eyes were on me, I'm where his visor was pointed. "So you must be Kitsune."

"I am," I said, wincing, at my dual toned voice. "So is this recruitment?"

"Nah, nothing like that. I'm a fan," Assault said, closing ground with a smile, gunmetal gray streamlined armor covering his head to his toe.

"A fan? Of what?" I asked, taken back.

"A fan of your work!" he exclaimed, coming closer. His smile seemed friendly and his attitude open, but there was also something off, like a hidden, sharp edge. His tone wasn't malicious, but was somewhat wrong, like the cheer was a mask that hid something deeper. "Your reveals, your art, they were all such great works. Though you never named the last one, did you? It's my personal favorite."

"Which one was that?" I asked, gingerly shaking his hand. His smile showed more teeth, and his face had a shadow.

"I call it Nazi Flambé, such a beautiful piece. Irony and explosions…really, you're the best. I have other names if you're open to suggestions. Troubles in Time? Maybe Kitsune Intervention?"

My smile froze beneath my mask, and I slowly move back, working my hand from his grip as I tried not to remember. Frozen time, drops of blood, that sharp, metal shrapnel….

Don. No, I need to stop this. That's not even his name.

"I didn't try to kill him."

"But you did a fine job. Shame I couldn't be there in person, I would have done it myself."

Okay, something's wrong. This isn't Assault as I know him. He's always a wiseass on television, but he's never this mean. My enthusiasm was waning, and I just wanted to leave. Something must have happened to make him this way. He wanted to meet me for a reason, maybe he wanted my assistance? Still…

"Look, you're not doing well. I think so, at least. But accusing me of murder isn't any way get help."

"Was I that obvious?" he mused dropping his grin. "I was hoping for subtle, but with my mood…well. I didn't view that as murder, whether you did it or not. Not when he killed Battery. I prefer execution."

"Wait, he killed Battery?"

"You mean you didn't know? It was all over the news," he said, voice mocking. "Great hero dead, caught outside in her civvies. Just an accident, they're saying, but someone gave order.

"Come," he said, hand extended, "we'll talk more on patrol."

x-x

3.7

"Were you and Battery close?" I asked as we traveled. It was an awkward, crass question, but it was all I could think of. There'd been nothing but silence for most of this patrol, avoiding people when he could, keeping mainly to the roofs. That part was easy, completely natural in this form, the smooth movement of muscles propelling me up towards my goals. Assault snorted, not pausing as we moved towards the downtown.

"Going straight for the liver?" he asked, making a move to get closer.

"Just didn't know what to say," I said, shrugging, feeling like I'd messed up. I reached out for a scaffold, grabbing the rail as I leapt, pulling myself up and over, twisting midair in a roll. Blood rushed through my veins, and my nerves felt on fire, cooled by spring air as we raced through the city. He lit up on a roof, and I followed, we stopped at the top. Kneeling down by a gargoyle, he traced a hand on its teeth.

"We used to always sit here when we went on patrol. It doesn't have the best view, but it served as a reminder." He raised his right hand, arm extended to the west, and I followed his finger. Two skinheads stood in view, in the alley by a bar. One of the nicer ones in town, it's door pure mahogany, with small, tasteful tables and well-dressed patrons. We got a few looks, most tossed especially to me, a thug fingered a knife, a lady's nose rose to air.

"Welcome to club Nazi."

"That's not its name," I pointed out.

"It's what it is," he replied, "What do you see in the alley?"

"Skinheads," I observed, "but this is downtown. They're in every alley."

"But none privately owned." He shrugged, moving closer. "Hey Kit."

"It's Kitsune," I corrected, frowning a bit. I'd lost a name twice today, if these were official, they'd be used right. Even if I didn't know what mine meant. I mean Kitsune, what are those?

"Well," he said, shrugging, rolling a coin on his knuckles, "I can't attack the alley. Have an idea why not?"

"Of course," I said, nodding. "You would require a warrant. Privately owned, like you said? Your claim would have to have backing."

"Would random screams be enough?" he asked, facing me, flipping the coin to his arm. It actually rolled up, moving on its own volition. Redirection, stored energy is what his power profile said. I didn't know he could do this. It seemed somewhat advanced.

"I don't know," I said, staring, barely registering my answer. He flicked me the coin, and I caught it in hand. I brought it to my eye, and compared it to my mask. Not tinkertech, I think, just an ordinary dime. Same weight, same feel. It didn't look counterfeit.

"Well," he said shrugging, "that's the rub, it turns out they aren't. The Protectorate can't go in there, not even run investigations. Battery and I never agreed, but it's the law, what can you do? They would need to start something before we could get involved." I looked over at him and his huge, grinning smile, still showing too much teeth as he stared down at the club.

"So is this why you went through all this trouble to find me? To facilitate revenge? They didn't do it you know, the man's already…" I winced.

"It wasn't any trouble at all," he said with a wave. "You walked mask on in the open, I merely followed the rumors. I was on patrol anyways, and this isn't revenge. More a preemptive strike or preventative measures. You remember what I said, about Battery's death?"

"You said there was someone behind it, but not really the rest. I can't believe it," I admitted. "I didn't think this could happen."

He fell silent at that, rubbing his ring finger, sitting back against the roof and looking up to the sky.

"Well, that makes two. Neither can I. It was all just so sudden, I remember…" He stopped. His hand went to his visor, palm flat, fingers splayed. "It's still hard to take in. It's only been a day."

I sat, somewhat awkwardly on the hard tiled roof, before moving closer, settling a hand on his back. Light, barely there, and he didn't say a word. I just let him be, alone with his thoughts. I'd been through this before back when mom had died too. It's hard to know how to react when someone dies; a piece of life that goes missing. Everyone takes it differently, and while he seemed almost fine, his bite was his grief twisting out in strange ways.

"They connected the killer," Assault said, speaking low. "The same one who hit Nakane. It was Victor, you know."

No, I really didn't. So Victor was Jacket, and Don after all?

"Why do you think someone's behind this?" I asked with a frown.

"Because Victor's a prick, but he never hurt her once. He used to idolize her as a kid, according to what I've found."

"He did?" I asked, shocked, "but how do you know? Why would he go Nazi? Why would all of this happen?"

"See my small finger?" he asked, raising his hand. "I poke air, and just know things. It's my power you know."

"Really?" I asked hopefully.

"No," he said with a harsh, quick laugh. "You're such a kid, Kit. Nothing like your vids."I shrunk back, embarrassed, before raising my eyes.

"That was all really me. I'm just...different right now."

"Just different she says," he mocked with a bow. "Like summer to winter or a country to city. Before I thought you'd be useful, but you're so out of depth. There was an autopsy. They found his identity. I figured out the rest. I have informants, I know people, some with shadier pasts."

"That doesn't sound very Heroic," I decided to point out, trying to ignore his other words. He was in grief, that was all. Other me wasn't better.

"I wasn't always a hero," Assault said, standing up. "These are contacts from before."

"As a civilian?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

There was something more going on, but I decided not to pry. I felt he wouldn't answer anyways, he seemed agitated. His body language was forward, his hands absently clenching. I looked to where he was gazing, back down at the club. We'd garnered more attention, people stopping to stare, but by and large were ignored by the dancing white Nazi's. They spoke in hushed voices, drinking wine, clinking fine china.

"So the perpetrator's in there?" I asked, looking closer. I manifested ears and a tail to get a better read.

"I'm not certain," he admitted. "But still, it's a lead. I want to surprise them, shake them up. See how they react."

He seemed to think for a moment, bringing a hand to his chin, a move reminiscent of dad when found a small issue.

"Let's make an entrance," he said, extending a hand down to me. I rose up and took it, but remained somewhat confused.

"What for?" I asked, thinking. "Wouldn't we just be denied?"

He pointed down the street, and there was a flash of a lens. A news van, I think, with reporters pulling up. They had been drawn to us stopping, and were shooting a scene. I felt a flush coming, and tried to move to his back, but he grabbed my hand, nodding, grinning down at the club.

"They won't be able to ignore us, not with their rep on the line. Heroes, denied entrance, on live television no less? Too much of a scandal. And with you, even more. 'White Supremacist Nazi's'. And the label would stick. Right now they can deny it, somewhat at least, but they've never garnered this attention. Let's use this, shall we?"

"Is there any other way?" I asked, shying from the cameras. He snorted.

"Of course! But we're seizing the moment. Come now Kit, try to think more Kitsune. Think aloof, be mysterious. Let's have some fun." His teeth flashed, canines prominent, and his gesture went wide.

That last part confused me, and I was wary of the first. "I'd rather be myself."

"That will work just as well." He hopped down from the roof, looking back up at me. I stared down, somewhat reluctantly, before leaping down as well. He took my hand as we dropped, gentler than before, making a beeline for the door. I followed, mind racing, trying to imitate how I walked. Well, not how I myself walked, but when I was other. What had Rasheed said? Graceful and playful? I put a spring in my steps, pulling closer to Assault. He hesitated, but pulled me in gently. My heart beat a bit more as we approached the door guard.

"Now where did this come from?" he questioned under his breath.

"It's a surprise," I breathed, stomach roiling, trying to focus my goal. Seka had alluded to our deal, and a part was the empire. Assaults goal would actually help me, and we might find this 'C'. He could still be after Naoko, this was only for the best. Our eyes met midway, and I moved closer to whisper.

"I made a deal, I'll keep it. No one will stand in my way."

x-x

3.8

"Shall we?" I asked, eying the club.

"Let's," Assault responded, his steps shifting me as I leaned into his arm. I didn't know why I was doing this, it seemed pretty stupid. I mean I saw this in movies, but actually pulling it off… Every step that I took was a fine, precise, act of balance, every placement of my foot a small work of art. Too slow, too fast, and we'd tip. That wouldn't be good. The only reason this worked was this form's inborn grace. I was jealous. Really jealous. Why couldn't I get this as myself? All these powers, all these perks, but as me, not Arianna.

A name. An identity. Expectations for this form. I felt, in a way, I was losing a grip on me, being swallowed in an ocean of images and deals. I found myself hoping that Rasheed was a spy. That he glimpsed something Taylor in that last camera pose. Something awkward, insecure, because really, I was. Not the confident predator that was me when transformed. I could be, though, of that I was sure. A little work and some practice was all it would take. Those plots, those plans, those general insights? I could do that. I know it. After all, that's still me.

Maybe that's why I'd agreed to Assaults plan in the end, just to prove I was useful, though it seemed idiotic. I mean we were walking into a club filled with Nazis after all. He fought them as a hero, they hated me just on principal. How I looked, at least, which was Asian at the time, though I tried to forget this as we neared the club door.

The guard at the entrance was standard fare thug, shaved head and large muscles stuffed into a suit. This might not be fair, I mean he could be intelligent, but I wasn't feeling generous, not with his murderous glare. He didn't budge from the door, lips set in a line, touching his earpiece with a sausage-sized finger.

I turned to the windows, trying to project idle amusement, and my heart skipped a beat as I looked through the glass. What was he doing here? That greasy haired man? The same one from the hospital, I'd seen him yesterday. On second thought, I could see how he fit. If my guess was right, if he really was Hookwolf, this would make perfect sense. I'd only guessed he was earlier, but the label made sense.

He stuck out in a crowd of refined features and clothes with his rough, brown jacket and casual slouch. Intense blue eyes peeked from beneath heavy brows, one of them raising when he noticed my gaze. He grinned, sharp and fierce, standing up from his table, unsettling the people who were fawning around him. I looked away slowly; though I wanted to bolt, I had an impression to make, and hesitance wasn't in it.

"You two shouldn't be here," the guard growled as we approached, holding his ground, refusing to budge. I was surprised he hadn't run, Assault was quite intimidating. He's a Veteran hero with combat experience who has even fought Endbringers and come out alive. This thug at the door? He wouldn't even last for two seconds. He knew this, we knew this, but he still didn't move. That either took guts or rampant stupidity, and I chalked it to the latter, if purely out of spite.

"Why not?" Assault asked, taking out a hand mirror. He made a show of looking in it, passing it over to me. I paused for a bit, not sure what to do, but he tapped his open skin and I realized what he meant. While this form was Asian, I was incredibly white, my skin closer to crème than anything of my own. Another reason to be jealous; these were really piling up. 'Arianna' was born lucky. Taylor was not.

I passed back the mirror and Assault took it with a flourish, placing it in a small groove in his armor. It had quite a few of those, probably for holding more items, holdouts or aces if his powers weren't enough. Kind of like my bag, but I'd had to leave mine at Calvert's. 'We'll be on Patrol' Assault had said. 'That ruins the image.'

His meaning was obvious now that we were at the club, but I still missed its contents, even though most of it wouldn't be useful here. A pen, some paper, pepper spray and a knife. Just a little Swiss one, in case it was needed.

"I don't see the problem," Assault said, grinning widely. "We're both white enough, without a blemish on our skin."

The guard looked up, glaring at us both, his gaze lingering on me before crossing his arms.

"None of this matters, club rules are rules. You're not getting in without being approved by the boss."

"Really?" Assault asked, speaking louder, but not shouting. "I thought skin was the criteria, I can't find anything else."

"We're a high society club," the guard said with a scowl. "You both don't count, and that woman isn't decent. She should go back to the slums."

I deliberately tilted my head, leaning into Assault, wondering what he would say if I wore my hoodie instead. Pretty much all this form had was a hoodie and a tank; well, that's all I would wear. Everything else felt too fancy, or fashionable…too Emma. Assault hesitated again, but he completed the motion, laying a smooth armored arm across the breadth of my shoulders.

I understood where he came, even if I didn't get his hesitance. This was uncomfortable, and forced, but we were projecting an image, one that I hadn't suggested, his idea in the first place.

That being said, my heart was beating too quickly; a flush ran up my shoulders and my face held a grimace. They couldn't really see it, what with my face behind a mask, but it was there, it remained, and it would probably stay. The club wasn't inviting, not to me at least, and the ears atop my head twitched to their loudly whispered words.

'It's a chink."

'Why the nerve!'

'Assault's a race traitor?'

They said more along those lines, though to be fair, I shouldn't have heard. There was a door in between us, sound resistant I think. Normal people couldn't hear, and I'm pretty sure that Assault couldn't either.

"High society," Assault mocked, waving a hand at the window. I saw a flash from the background and had to stop myself from turning my head. Paparazzi were behind us, drawn by our presence, the new cape on the block and an old, established favorite. Assault's hand stayed in the air as he played this for the press, sweeping across the windows in a slow, strong motion. "Yes, I see what you mean. Aryan standards did drop since the end of the war, what with skinheads and layabouts as your new ruling class."

His hand sweep had emphasized those that fit his description, the men in ratty, cheap suits or the obvious gang bangers. Another camera flashed behind us and the press grew closer. The guard didn't seem to like this, moving back a few steps. Curious that he hadn't done so earlier, but maybe he didn't like cameras? Still, he didn't budge, looking obstinate, but didn't get any further, the door sliding open for that greasy haired man. Could-be-Hookwolf grabbed his shoulder to stop the guy from speaking.

"Don't worry my friend," he said, speaking loudly, one hand in his pocket, "these people are my guests." Then he turned back to the club. Assault's grin turned to a sneer, but it lost some of its effect since you couldn't see his eyes, and he followed right after them with an annoying jerk in his step that made walking even harder. Was he trying to do that, or was he just that angry? I was half tempted to just abandon his arm, but decided against it. Doing so now that we're actually in the club could only hurt us, and it gave me something to concentrate on besides the people around us.

Everyone seemed so angry in here, their noses in the air and their eyes burning bright, muttering dire imprecations beneath every breath. Some were directed at us, but mostly at me, others directed at him, Could-be-Hookwolf, apparently named Brad, the man that we followed.

'Do you think that he'll kill her?'

'Oh, I really hope so.'

'Brad and his guests…maybe she's good for the pits.'

I didn't like this. I mean really didn't like this. This felt something like Winslow, but worse, not just petty insults and rumors I could ignore, but people actually wanting me dead. I could hardly believe this was actually real, I thought people only thought like this in cartoons, as cliché's, or in the E88. I mean, Nazi's didn't really affect me, did they? They'd been a side consideration in my life. Apparently some bullies never grow up.

There was a clink to my left as I tried not to turn, almost losing my cool. That sound was reminiscent of Seka's bombs being armed, but that was impossible, right? We were in a club. No one would bring one here, or use one if they did. That would wreck merry hell on their friends and establishment. So yeah, it's impossible. No way one was here.

But then again, would looking really hurt?

I snuck a look, just in case, and nearly sighed in relief. Just a fork, thank Scion, nothing to worry myself over.

Calm down Taylor, they wouldn't really kill you. Two heroes going missing would be more than they could handle, press wise at least. But still…where was Brad taking us? It wasn't to one of the tables. It was past them, somewhere further, deeper into the club.

I moved my head closer to Assault's armored ear, whispering as low as I could, which was still picked up by my mask, almost indecipherable thanks to the synthesizer's dual tone.

"Where do you think we are going?"

"How would I know?" he retorted, his lips barely moving. "Nice place, I'll admit, but it's really not my style. First time coming to this place myself."

"We should probably leave," I murmured under my breath. "Those people? They all want us dead, think we're going to 'the pits.'"

"That's their issue, not mine," Assault said, shrugging infuriatingly, forcing me to use more effort in the next few steps. The grin on his face seemed wider by the second, showing more teeth as we broke from the wider Nazi crowd. "You think they'll try to fight us?"

"Yes."

"Then let them. I know it's not obvious, but I'm experiencing stress. Cracking heads helps relieve that."

"But what about the plan?" I asked.

"What plan," he responded, visor turning my way. "The plan ceased to exist. It's gone. Kaput. The guy in front of us managed to kill it before it was born. I wanted to make a scene or create a ruckus to shake the Empire up. Get them angry, find a scapegoat. A simple application of pressure. This is way more than I'd ever expected. I'll bet you, right now, that this guy is high up."

"I'd agree," I whispered. Brad parted that crowd like a knife through hot butter. I chalked another line for the Is-Hookwolf side, Not-Hookwolf basically saying, 'Well, I never saw him change.' I decided to be done with it and just label him Hookwolf. Safer to assume that's who he is than be surprised if he strikes.

"Still, this only means that we're likely in danger," I pointed out, hoping to make him see reason.

"Nonsense," Assault said, depressing a pad on his visor. I didn't see anything visible, but it probably had a purpose. He raised his voice when he next spoke, and it carried to Brad. "The empire already killed one cape. They kill another? They're done."

Brad turned, but didn't respond, his eyes raking my form. I met his gaze best I could. The mask really helped. It's not like its eyes could blink, could they? My head just had to keep steady. So while he stared I looked around the hall, checking for routes and exits and possible doors. The walls seemed thinnest to the left, or at least closer to the street. If it came down to it I could use my ball and break us an exit. There was the way that we came from, and I tracked a man's footsteps, making his way to the roof, stepping on stairs down the corner. If I was reading the footsteps of someone walking there correctly…Left, right, left, then a door in the corner. Not saying we'd need them, but this was just case. I'd learned my lesson from yesterday. Always plan ahead.

You'd think Assault, a veteran hero, would live by this rule. Then again, he is still grieving. Him and Battery were close. You mention one and you hear of the other. There were even speculations that they could have been married.

I returned to myself when Brad broke off his stare as he placed a hand on a door and pushed his way through. Assault followed while I frowned, hearing a new noise. I tugged a bit on his arm and so we stopped right before it, and Brad turned around, his gaze relaxed and stance casual. He held an air of anticipation, some fire in his eyes, his four day stubble adding menace and his toothy grin wasn't helping. He looked like this one guy who works under my dad, grizzled and tough, but meaner, and fierce. He was openly admitting something was up, but challenging me to go through all the same.

Was I going to? Of course not! I'm not stupid. But Assault shifted, chomping at the bit, impatient and angry, letting his feelings run wild.

"Getting cold feet?" Brad accused, leaning his hand on the door. I couldn't see anyone right past him, but I could hear some murmurs.

"I'm not foolish," I retorted. "We're walking into a trap."

"It's not a trap," he replied, "just a good place to talk."

"The room was soundproofed," I countered, "and holds fou-no, six people. If you just want to talk then we can do so right here."

A hand touched my shoulder and I looked up, Assaults too-wide grin spreading across my vision.

"But Kit, we're the guests here, we have responsibilities. We can't keep them waiting, that would be rude."

"I'm not moving," I repeated, standing my ground. Brad turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not the one who wants to talk. He's in there."

"If he really does want to talk, have him come out here."

"He is Kaiser," Brad said.

"That does not matter," I breathed. "I will not go in there. Send him out or I leave."

Brad's stomach heaved with a deep belly laugh, hand slamming against the doorframe to help keep him upright. He looked like he needed it, he seemed about to tip over, but he composed himself somewhat, his face bearing witness to quick, sporadic grins.

"He comes to you?" Brad said. "That is rich. No, it's hilarious! First time I've heard it said."

"My point stands," I said, back straight, hands clasped. Brad shook his head, but went through the door.

"I guarantee nothing, but I will give your ultimatum. Do not be surprised if nothing gets done."

The door closed with a slam and all sound cut off. Assault tapped on his visor, and I leaned against the wall, sweat forming, pulse pounding, and let out my held breath. I unclenched my fists, forcing my teeth to unclench, trying to relax the tension in my back.

An ultimatum, to Kaiser. What the hell was I thinking?

"I have to say," Assault mused, "that wasn't expected. You didn't act this way on patrol, or through the club. It directly contradicts either of my impressions. Bravo, by the way, I believe congratulations are in order. You have successfully managed to piss off Kaiser." He finished that off with a slow, obnoxious clap.

My head hit the wall, and I let myself slide, raising a hand to my neck, trying to work out the kinks. I reached for my mask before stopping, hands knotting, and they fell to my sides. By back slid down the wall till my legs reached the floor, and I leaned forwards, cradling my head in my hands.

"Not that I'm complaining," Assault continued blithely. "I was hoping to fight him, and this works out well."

"The hospital," I said.

"The hospital?"

"Yes. That's what this resembles. The PRT van. Someone walking in, voluntarily, there's bait. Something they wanted or something to gain. It even has the same people, E88, and Hookwolf."

"Hookwolf?"

"Doesn't matter," I said, waving him away. He stared for a moment before nodding in agreement, not reaching down to help me, but not dismissing me either. It was silent, just me, the lights, and the small sounds of footsteps, the cool floor, the high ceiling and rough brown of the walls.

"There's no trap," Assault said. "They have too much to lose. They already killed one hero; they can't afford to kill another. The entire Protectorate would respond if they did, they'd get wiped off the map. Don't worry, we're safe."

Says the man here for vengeance. You think they don't want the same?

I didn't say that, keeping silent as I slowly stood up. Assault had his hand on the wall and was staring straight at, doing something, I'm sure, his mouth a grim line. Energy storage. That's what the wiki said. Is that really his power, or more like energy control? If that is what he has, then even if that's soundproof…

"You were looking for a lead; at least, that's what you said."

"I did," he responded, hand still on the wall. He wore a look of concentration, his fingers probing gently.

"But you aren't really," I prompted.

"Not at all," he responded. I stared, frustrated, banging my elbow on the wall.

"Then you brought me for what, provocation? You weren't trying to investigate, you were looking for a fight."

"Just so," he agreed, barely paying me mind.

"That wasn't very heroic."

"I'm not much of a hero."

"Then why join the Protectorate?"

"For Battery. Thats all."

He fell silent after that, fingers testing the wall.

I'm not, apparently, a very good hero myself.

Assault smiled, bringing a hand to his helmet before turning towards me. "Kit, we're going live. You're leading this dance."

I nodded, standing straight, and he pushed a visor pad. He'd done this three times before.

Going Live? Just what did he mean?

Ghosts burst through the walls to our left, settling behind us, intangible, invincible, capable of great harm. To our front there was Kaiser, striding straight through the door, medieval armor made of blades, guarded by Fenja and Menja, the giant Valkyrie twins. Cricket stood to his left, Stormtiger to his right, and Brad, no, Hookwolf behind them, the only difference being his mask.

"I didn't want to have to do this," Kaiser said, walking forwards, hands clasped behind his back as swords grew from the walls. They were covered in a lattice, a fresh coat of new steel. Kaiser raised a hand. "I only wanted to talk. It seems however, a demonstration's in order."

He brought his hand down, and blades grew from all sides. Assault tensed beside me, legs spread, fists clenched. I disabled my veil, tails bursting to nine, my ball formed before me, filling straight to the brim, and smiled, unmoving, as the blades closed in.

x-x

3.9

The blades of metal resembled the petals of flowers, a quick, flowing growth in the onset of spring. Each sword was unique in either material or designs, most with delicate, flowing etchings laid into their hilts. Was Kaiser an artist, perhaps, or was this just automatic? Such a shame they would be broken, it was really quite the sight.

Assault's lashing fists scattered blades to the side as my fire lit the hall with an ethereal blue glow. He spun in a circle so his feet touched the shards, flying towards Kaiser in an eerily accurate storm. A wall of blades grew before Kaiser as he was forced to defend, and Assault took that moment to bring a hand to his visor.

"And cut," Assault murmured, so low I could barely hear, depressing the pad in his helmet as he rose from his crouch. Now isn't that curious. Hadn't he said something about going live before?

Assault's strides ate the ground with powerful motions, his steps long, arms swinging, and every movement a torque as the Valkyrie twins rose to his challenge, growing with every stride. Crossing my arms under my chest I leaned back, the wall cooling my neck as I settled down to watch. Hookwolf, apparently, had the same idea, and we stared at each other sharing a silent joke but ready to leap if the other made to move. I knew from our earlier fight that he was accustomed to battle and we recognized this farce for exactly what it was.

The close quarters of the halls gave Kaiser an advantage. His swords could grow quicker, and from various surfaces. They also hindered everyone else, their abilities just not suited for a closed quarter's battle. Fenja and Menja are giants and changers. The larger they grow, the stronger and tougher they become. Their limit, I believe, was forty five feet, but this hall had to be ten at its highest. Stormtiger could fight but not with his winds as he might hurt his own allies if he unleashed them in battle. Cricket was the least inconvenienced out of those in the hall, and even then her acrobatics were hampered by walls. The Empire, severely handicapped. Assault? Not so much.

Amusingly enough, the twin giants made this worse, taking up all the space in their attempt to fight Assault. They effectively limited E88 combatants to three, them and Kaiser's blades, the latter breaking whenever Assault brushed them with his fingers. Fenja thrust forwards with her spear in a bid for Assault who broke into a spin similar to throwing a discus, hand axing the blade. It split with a crack, and she quickly abandoned it, moving to grab Assault in a hold. Sliding past as if greased and running for her sister, he executed a nearly identical strike, shattering her shield in a rain of dark metal.

The two of them pulled back, Menja moving her sword in a threatening manner, cowed and somewhat hesitant after that sudden showing of strength. I couldn't really blame them being surprised myself. Despite watching his videos and fights as a child, I've never seen Assault pull anywhere near this much power. Well, if he was hit this might have been possible, he was seen absorbing punches and hitting back twice as hard, showing some control on his motions but requiring full contact. The moves he's now pulling are on an entirely different level.

He's listed as a Striker 5 cape, but I'd rate him a 7. Storing kinetic energy was his stated power PRT power, though his actions so far imply pure tactile control. I suspect he's absorbing more energy from his movements, his strides not taking him as far as they should. Using the spin to gain more momentum, suddenly ceasing all motion save for the point of the strike…

Masterful uses of his power, if out of practice it seemed, his movements gaining more surety as the battle dragged on. He laid into the giants while keeping them in the forefront, using their bulk to protect himself from the other's support. Metal blades were ignored, shattering where he touched, the Kaiser's stronger constructs taking longer to form. They did pull some of his efforts; he had to put motion to breaking them, but they didn't protect the two sisters from their beating. Body language shifting, they seemed confused, retreating, not that I could blame them, this wasn't expected from Assault.

Growing up in Brockton Bay, I'd always thought him mid-tier at best. His greatest showings and fights were with Battery as a duo. The two had appeared to be equals, their combination high tier, but this is more like what I'd expect from a top hero like Armsmaster. He was beating three capes almost casually it seemed, their attempts to hold him steady all broken or ignored. Their hands slid from his sides and their weapons lay shattered, Menja's sword joining the others with a final, bleak crack. His only real threat appeared to be Kaiser's thicker blades, growing progressively larger as the fight continued.

One of the sisters, I couldn't really tell who, appeared fed up with this nonsense, pulling her arm back before driving it forwards with all the force of an angry giantess's body. Her fist dwarfed Assault's head.

He met it with a finger.

She flew through the air, crashing into her sister, plaster raining down from a crack in the wall The one on top groaned, wiping her head with a hand before hissing in pain, leaving a trail of red from a large, bloody gash.

A ghost stirred beside me, the breathing closer to the door. Well, it appears Crusader joins the fray. That would make things more difficult, I'm not so sure I could hurt the intangible. I know Assault can't, so he poses a problem. This would all be so easy if I just used my orb. There are, after all, billions of humans; no one will miss a few dead bad seeds. Expedient? Yes. Heroic? Not quite.

Decisions, decisions. But do I even need to help? Assault has this well in hand; I doubt the ghosts will pose a problem. He's skilled enough they shouldn't really matter. Besides, these people aren't very interesting. Fighting them would be boring. But a man bent on vengeance?

Well. Now that's fun to watch.

Sighting across the fight I waved a hand at poor Hookwolf, his stance growing tighter as his subordinates stepped up. Kaiser, for his part, clasped his hands behind his back; no longer bothering with motions as the metal grew inwards, forgoing the bindings for small, sharp enhancements, edges appearing on Nazi armor and daggers in their hands. Smarter then, and it seemed to be working, Assault's blows lacking force when he encountered the ridges. He can't use his power to both attack and defend?

Stormtiger rushed from his left and Cricket to his right, moving in step with a practiced air to their motions. Scattered blades and splintered steel impeded their progress, but they managed, moving past with barely a pause. Cricket leapt forwards, lashing out with her scythes, while Stormtiger stayed nearby, just outside Assault's range. Cricket's scythes swept low to the ground with Assault kicking towards them with a shattering blow. Stormtiger moved, coming in from the side with a sweeping claw strike, his other just behind.

Assault kicked off Cricket's weapon as if launching from a trampoline, neatly avoiding both blows in exchange for losing some ground. One of the twins was rejoining the fight, Kaiser's blades coating her armor, while cuts lined Assault's from the ridges he'd hit. He moved a hand beneath his back, and something popped from his gauntlet, settling into his palm, a small ball bearing. Leaning forwards to watch I manifested my ball, tossing in lightly with a smile on my face but something bugged me, the flaking of paint, a scratch on the cieling-

I leaned to my left, a transparent blade whipping past my face in an eerie, windless motion making absolutely no sound. Dark flutters of hair streamed down to the ground, and I touched my cheek where some locks had been cut.

Everything froze as Cricket stopped midflight, hanging in the air with her scythe swinging down. I walked past her, gently pushing her blade, angling it for a miss and nudging Stormtiger's feet. I left Fenja and Menja supporting each other as they were, imparting some essence into Assault as I passed. Striding past Kaiser and moving over to Crusader, I reached a hand to his neck, stroking his neck with a finger. I spent a small moment imagining my nails in his eyes before reaching deep inside him, touching his essence and drained.

Memories and images, a cheery house on fire. I drained his flame away as my own power still waned. The gain wasn't enough to counteract the cost of moving through time, but I kept going till he had nothing but embers. His hands moved up slowly, and everyone turned to where I stood, but I smiled, released the effect, and he fell in a heap. My hair dropped in the background, a barely audible whisper. Only a quarter of my essence remaining, but no matter.

"You shouldn't have done that," I said, crouching besides him, caressing his helmet, his body lolling on the ground. "I wasn't about to interfere, but I'm afraid you forced my hand. I'm sorry, Crusader. I really, really am."

His eyes moved wildly beneath his helmet, check muscles twitching, to apologize, perhaps? I heard a high, metallic shink, and cool metal stroked my neck, the edge of the blade cutting the smallest of hairs.

"He's not dead," I said, turning, admiring the work on the blade. I raised a hand, pushing it gently, watching it fall to the side. "Earlier, I believe, you wanted to talk." Kaiser inclined his head, grounding his sword in a two handed grip.

Tilting my head to the left I rose to meet Kaiser, a sway in my steps and a lilt in my voice.

"Well, here I am. Tell me a secret."

x-x

3.10

Kaiser's armor is a study in definition, the contours of his body covered, or indeed enhanced, by a multitude of blades. Running my fingers up his arms produced a shifting of steel, blades growing or shrinking to accommodate his movement. I laid my cheek on his chest, or rather mask as it was, feeling the cool metal pulse with his every breath. His heart beat to the pitter of rabbit's feet, a constant quick thumping that belied his actual pose. Straight backed and assertive, he hadn't moved at my approach, his hand clasped on the hilt of a sword in the ground.

Such an interesting man, not at all how I've pictured him. The words 'Nazi' and 'Scum' were bandied about, along with retorts of 'Aryan' and 'Leader'. Winslow could never seem to make up its mind, though the crowd leaned towards the former being based near the docks. The ABB understandably had a larger representation. They also missed words such as 'Grandstanding' and 'Prideful'.

Brave too, despite his fear.

I pressed myself against him, looking up, smiling, a motion copied by my mask, the jaws of bone parting in, as I imagined it, a terrifying way. I couldn't see his shiver, but I could feel it through his blades, a sudden shifting of metal and rearranging of points, from the bottom of the toes to the tip of his crowned helm.

One of these days I will have to see why people seem terrified of my presence and movements. Perhaps I'll take a recording, say a few lines, and watch it when I'm normal to observe the differences. The video from the parking lot really didn't do me any justice, some standing, some walking, and a delayed car explosion. Absolutely boring by any metric really, show none of the more interesting changes I experience.

"I wouldn't call it a secret," Kaiser said, moving a hand to my shoulder. I let him push me away, brushing his armor with my tails. "A misunderstanding would be closer to the truth."

"Really," I breathed. "Care to continue?"

"Of course," he said, pushing me gently. I moved away smiling. His heart hadn't slowed down. Hookwolf moved beside Kaiser and Assault to my right, Hookwolf a mass of spinning blades and Assault in cut and dented armor, a splatter of blood on his cheek. Not his of course, his skin remained unblemished, but along with lean movements and too-toothy grin…well, they just felt like they fit him, like a man returned home. His feral air on the other hand seemed wholly out of place.

"So, misunderstanding?" I prompted, watching him squirm, and his heart rate spiked again. How delightful to hear. He waved his hand casually, taking a look around the room, to the shattered blades and cracked walls and small stains of blood. When his gaze turned to Hookwolf I saw the whirring blades shake, moving a hand to the wrist.

My ears twitched. Faint footstep in the background. Kaiser took that moment to make a grandiose gesture, arms spreading to his sides, sword still standing upright, looking with deep deliberation towards the Nazi's around us.

Ah, well then, Hookwolf's the tactician, Kaiser the orator, which would explain why we fought, Hookwolf knew better. Kaiser must have been the one to call the battle order. Not exactly how they are portrayed, but then, who is? Seka wasn't how I expected, and Lung even more so, though I suspect that had more to do with not knowing Lung better.

Getting to know him. Now wasn't that a pleasant thought. He's interesting enough and his holdings are large, and then there was his deal to clean up the docks…

Assuming Seka's implication was right of course.

"Look around you," Kaiser said, hands dropping to clasp behind his back. "What makes up an Empire?"

"Fanatics and delusions?" Assault asked from my side. Still hesitant to touch me despite the image he had wanted, opting to stand a bit apart, our arms almost touching.

"People," Kaiser said, ignoring Assault. "And what are people but individuals? They don't all follow orders. They have ambitions and goals."

"That coincide with your own," Assault said, cutting in, moving forwards for a bit.

"True," Kaiser admitted. "We looked for the same results."

Assault's heart stuttered for a moment before coming back in full force.

"Really," he said, his grin growing larger. "I wouldn't have known."

His sarcasm seemed thick enough to that a sword wouldn't cut it. Kaiser's armor certainly didn't, and his feet shifted beneath him, sensing he had done something wrong, though he couldn't tell what. Utterly delightful is what this skit was, I was beginning to believe the Empire wasn't behind, or even in the know, of Battery's death. This approach was too crude for Kaiser's usual methods. He's a man of good presence and excellent control. Every motion is placed, practiced for its effect, the line of his shoulders commanding, the spread of his feet projecting solidity.

"But while there was much to be gained the plan was too risky," Kaiser said, one hand rising, the other held down. "Too much risk for the reward, we chose not to support him."

"Of course not, why would you?" Assault growled out. He moved closer, floor cracking with every step that he took. "You wouldn't want to be caught, but if he succeeded, what then? Your goals are still accomplished and the crime won't be traced to you."

"Well," Assault added. "Unless people don't like you. They might just search for excuses. Now was that motive I heard?"

Assault's heels hit the ground with a sudden, sharp cracking, and cracks surged from beneath him towards where Kaiser stood. None of his usual witticisms were forthcoming right now, instead relying on sheer physical presence to mow down Kaiser. He was succeeding as well if Kaiser's heart was any indication, every cracking step heralding a spike in his heart.

Should I stop this? Perhaps. Well no, almost certainly. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. Assault seemed liable to commit murder, his mercy forgotten. But of course that didn't mean that I had to stop him now. Wouldn't it be better to wait? See how this all plays out. For information, of course. To see what I may learn.

"Yes," Kaiser said, still appearing in control. "Motive? Of course. If the Asians were weakened they would be easier to strike. Miss Nakane just happened to be a powerful uniting force, so…"

"I'm not talking about Nakane," Assault said, reaching Kaiser, his steps shattering the ground beneath him, causing the Empire's leader to stumble. "I'm talking about Battery."

"Battery?" Kaiser asked. Was that confusion I heard? "What does Battery have to do with-"

The wall shattered behind him, Assault's armored fist lodged within. "Why did Victor kill my wife?"

A little too much learned there.

Kaiser started, and Hookwolf finally stirred.

"He what?"

"That was him?"

Assault's fist reared back, his grin more a grimace, his whole body twisting and his fingers extending. Kaiser's feet shifted as if to move, and Hookwolf charged to the front-

"They didn't know," I cut in, walking over to his side, dancing around the blades and cracks to lower his hand with my own. "They're telling the truth as they know it."

"How do you know?"

"Their hearts," I said, smiling. "Well, mainly Hookwolf's. His heart remained steady before the shock of your words. It was hard to read anything behind the beat of Kaiser's fear. You made reading him a lot harder when you started your march." Assault stopped his movement, an inch from Kaiser's face. No wind, nothing moved. All motion just stopped.

"You're positive," he said.

"I am," I agreed. The silence dragged on. Kaiser still didn't move. Hookwolf saw something, and snorted, turning away, casting a gaze in my direction. Well, from what I could tell of his blades.

Assault's teeth had vanished for a moment, and he stood, arm extended, frozen in the middle of his strike before he sighed, standing up, taking a mocking half bow.

"My apologies," He said, sighing, "I can be a bit of a clown." He drew a card from his pocket. Kaiser took it with grace. His heart sped up suddenly, a spike in his blood. Such a delicious little sound, like a rabbit's foot thumping as it runs from the hunt. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. Run, little rodent, I'm coming after your crown. Well, another time and place then if Lung solidifies the deal. We're not at war yet after all so there's no reason to bother.

"Call me with information if you learn anything of a 'C'," Assault said, striding towards me with a jaunt in my step. "I might repay you with a favor. Or, we're fighting; I might just let you go. Don't worry, I'll dial on easy. It's what you're used to after all."

Kaiser gave a sharp, confident nod, despite the thumping of his heart. A brave, powerful man, moving on despite fear. Perhaps thinking himself lucky, or returning to his favored area of battle. Words, stances, politics and connections. That's the impression he gave me from his earlier actions. The control, all the motions, the battlefield wasn't his. It belonged to another.

I nodded to Hookwolf. He nodded right back. If my deal with Lung came about, this wouldn't be our latest encounter, just our greatest peace. I will remember this later as I tear out his essence. It will be hard fought and hard won, but there's little doubt it will happen. But for now time to prepare, there's battle on the horizon…

"Ah! That reminds me," Assault said, his finger in the air, grin once more in place. He tapped his helmet absently, motioning to a button in the back. "I came here expecting a fight and looking for revenge. Posting a big scene on the internet from the middle of the club. But getting as far as I did…let's just say I didn't expect it."

Kaiser paused, he'd been stepping, turning to where Assault stood.

"You'll delete them of course."

"Of course," Assault agreed. "But I'm afraid that won't matter. You see I wanted revenge quickly. So I sent it to your enemies. The ABB, the Protectorate, the PRT, the merchants, the smaller gangs, some miscellaneous…along with the locations of your safe houses. We recently came across an extremely good information broker. The police put me in touch when I looked into the case."

Kaiser cursed something in german. Hookwolf's fist hit the wall. He strode down the hall before pausing, turning to look back my way. "Kitsune." I nodded.

"Hookwolf."

"You're ABB?"

"No, independent."

"Can I convince you stay out?"

I thought of the docks.

"No," I said, smiling, "I really don't think so."

"Then I'll see you in battle," he said, turning, and opened the door.

I saw men. I saw guns.

Assault broke through a wall. I followed, laughing, tracing my fingers through the air. A simple image of a fox, wrought of blue fire.

x-x