Moth and Fox

-Maia POV-

 

Luckily, I had raised a barrier in time to protect myself and Celesta from the flying masonry. I dropped the barrier in surprise, though, when a voice came from the new hole in the wall.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me! Why the hell are there civvies here!?”

A woman wearing a maid dress and combat boots stepped out onto the sidewalk. She had a duffel bag on one shoulder, and she was already looking back into the building. Evidently, she was the cause of both the explosion and the swearing.

As the dust settled, I noted that the explosion wasn’t fiery in nature. It was more like the brick wall had simply been violently thrown outward.

“If you return the property you stole, you may go free,” came a stern, computerized voice from inside the building.

When the owner of the voice exited the building, my first thought was that it was an angel. I quickly realized the error in that description, though, when I looked closer.

Hovering there was a woman with golden blonde hair and white, feathery wings. A glowing yellow halo hovered above her head, but that’s where the angel comparison stopped.

She wore a strange, hi-tech looking jumpsuit with yellow glowing lines tracing patterns along the sides. It looked almost skintight, and seemed both metallic and flexible. It also covered her hands and feet, and extended rather far up her neck as well. A matching white full-face mask hid her identity.

“I’ll certainly be doing one of those things,” the person in the maid dress responded. “And I’m keeping the goods.”

Clearly, an idea occurred to her, since she sprinted at me and roughly grabbed my arm. She pulled me in front of her and held a hand to my head.

“Tch. A hostage,” the angel-like person said, sounding almost relieved, oddly. “I will retreat. For now.”

Just as quickly as she had appeared, she vanished into the night.

The woman in the maid dress waited a moment, then let go of me. I was still trying to process what had just happened, and stumbled a bit when she released me.

She pulled a roll of bandages and a bottle out of a side pocket of the duffel bag, applied some cream from the bottle to a bandage, then began wrapping it around her leg. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but she had a fairly nasty-looking burn on her lower leg.

I could hear her muttering, “Goddammit what kind of psycho uses a massive fucking laser on a thief? Ow ow ow fucking hell I hate her company, I hate her tech, I hate everything about her.”

After she bandaged her leg, she glanced at me and Celesta. Without a word, she turned and limped away.

I stood there a moment, confused.

“Well, I’m going home now,” Celesta said. “Goodbye.”

She pulled a phone out of her pocket and walked away in a different direction. I could hear the faint sound of a text-to-speech program, then she was gone.

Following some unknown urge, I turned and ran after the maid person.

I found her just as she entered a warehouse, still limping.

“Hey!” I called.

“Wha-“

She whirled around.

“Oh, it’s just you. I don’t know what you’re doing out here at this time of night. Just go home.”

I paused. She was right. There wasn’t really a reason for me to be here.

I turned around, intending to do as she said. However, a loud crash from behind me caused me to look back at her.

She had collapsed, seemingly unconscious, in the middle of the floor of the warehouse.

I rushed over to her side.

“Um, are you okay? No, of course she’s not okay, what am I saying?” I was panicking a bit, unsure of what to do.

Just then, the back door of the warehouse opened, and a person stepped in.

She had soft purple eyes and gray hair, which was a little surprising since she didn’t look that old otherwise, maybe around thirty or so. As she fully entered the room, though, I realized that she had four large spider-like legs behind her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the woman in the maid outfit on the floor.

“Breach? Wait, Breach!? What hap-“

Her eyes narrowed as she met mine.

“Who are you? What happened?” she asked accusingly.

“Um- I don’t- I’m not-“

I stumbled over my words, surprised by her questions and aggressive attitude.

She clicked her tongue, before picking up the woman on the floor, who was presumably Breach.

“Not hostile, then,” she said, scooping up the fallen duffel bag with one of her spider legs, before turning around to go back the way she came. “Bye.”

“Wait, what’s going on? Who are you?” I asked, jogging a bit to catch up to her.

“Oh, you won’t answer my questions, but you can ask questions? Just go away, kid, this doesn’t concern you.”

I was getting real fed up with things just happening around me with no explanations.

“No,” I responded, creating a barrier in front of her.

She stopped, her three free spider legs reaching out to tap on it. Finding it solid, she turned back to me, looked me in the eyes, then made a small noise of approval.

“Okay then, come with me. Just don’t block my way, Breach needs medical attention.”

That was surprisingly easy. After I allowed my barrier to dissipate, she led the way through a maze of back alleys and warehouses, until we arrived at a sturdy-looking metal door.

It almost looked out of place among the corrugated metal walls of the surrounding buildings. There was a wheel attached to the door, making it seem like it belonged in a submarine or on a safe or something.

She set down the duffel bag on the ground, then stood with her feet wide apart. Her four spider legs grabbed the wheel.

Something occurred to me that I probably should have asked earlier.

“What’s your name?”

With a grunt of effort, she spun the wheel, opening the door.

“You can call me Weaver.”

She picked up the bag again, then walked through the door. I followed behind her, and the door swung shut behind us with a clang.

Inside was a cavernous space that would be best described as chaotic. In one area, numerous computer screens hung from the ceiling, displaying numbers and statistics I couldn’t make sense of. A large TV showed a news report on a mysterious fire in the industrial district that had been sighted from afar, but was put out by the time anyone arrived at the scene. An old, beat-up couch was facing the TV. Nearby was a whiteboard on wheels with diagrams and arrows drawn all over it. One wall had lots of maps, blueprints, and news articles attached to it, with a few pieces of string connecting some of them. Another wall had a pair of garage doors, with a strange assortment of vehicles parked in front of them. There was a city bus, an armored van, a sports car, and an old station wagon. In one corner were some shelves containing sewing supplies, welding tools, various types of cloth, steel wool, metal plates, and other materials that didn’t quite seem like they went together.

My attention was quickly drawn to the corner of the room that Weaver had gone to. There were more shelves, though these seemed to contain primarily medical supplies rather than craft supplies. Weaver had set Breach down on a steel table and put the duffel bag on a different table off to the side.

I watched as Weaver deftly untied the bandages on Breach’s leg, applied some strong-smelling ointment from a bottle on the shelf, then wrapped fresh, sterile bandages over the wound. She did all this using the spider legs on her back, which was both impressive and kind of creepy. After all, they were giant, hairy, spider legs.

Then, Weaver pulled a curtain closed, blocking off the medical area from view. I heard the rustling of clothes, followed by a sigh. A slap echoed through the room, followed by a loud voice that I recognized as Breach.

“Ow! What the fuc-“

She paused for a moment.

“Weaver, why the fuck am I naked?”

“I had to inspect you for further wounds.”

“Weaver I only have one wound.”

“I am aware of that now.”

“Weaver.”

“You were being a drama queen and passed out from a single burn.” There was a slight quaver in Weaver’s voice.

“Weaver, please.”

I laughed. The tension from being in this situation left me all at once, and I found myself leaning against the couch in front of the TV.

There was a rapid rustling of fabric, then the curtain swished open. Breach stood there in her maid outfit, though it was somewhat disheveled now. She was looking at me oddly, and Weaver was still standing at the table. She sniffed a few times, then turned around to face me as well.

“Weaver, why’s foxy still here?”

I had forgotten that my ears and tail were still out, but it seemed a bit late to make them disappear now.

“I think the kid could help us.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“Ah, shit.” Breach walked closer to me, then held out a hand. “The name’s Breach. Well, the code name is. Welcome to the team.”

“I hadn’t actually made the offer yet,” Weaver said.

“Fuck, that’s embarrassing,” she muttered. “Well, anyways, uh, Weaver seems to approve of you, and that’s good enough for me. You interested in helping us?”

Weaver then chimed in.

“You’ve seen the hideout, so you’re not really allowed to say no.”

In spite of all their casual attitude and friendly demeanor, that was quite clearly a threat. Not one to agree to something blindly, I decided to gather as much information as possible.

“What do you guys do?”

“We’re supervillains. We do crimes,” supplied Breach unhelpfully.

“We commit crimes to effect change, whether that be helping those in need or taking down those with power,” said Weaver, much more helpfully.

“And also ‘cause it’s fun,” Breach added.

“Breach, I love you, but please shut up.”

“Understood.”

Breach saluted, then sat down on the couch, eliciting a loud squeak from the springs inside it.

“And who is on this team?” I asked.

“Currently, just me and Breach.”

“What would you have me do if I join?”

Breach began to say something, but Weaver quickly cut her off.

“I think that’s enough questions. What is your answer?”

Her spider legs all pointed directly at me. I had kind of run out of options at this point. Well, running away was still an option, and I had my barrier, but I had gotten this far, and I was curious.

“I’ll join your team.”

Before Weaver could respond, Breach jumped up off the couch.

“Alright, sweet, let’s try this again.” She held out a hand. I took it, and we shook. “Welcome to the team.”

Weaver sighed.

“Yes, welcome to the team.”

Suddenly, I stiffened.

{…Maia?}

Oh shit.

[…Yes?]

{Where are you?}

[Uhhh.]

{Maia, answer me.}

[I kiiiinda joined some supervillains.]

I swear I could feel her sigh from halfway across town.