FSE

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Amateur Heroics

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Part 1: The Last Hurrah

by Dissident Love Copyright 2013

The front door of the modest apartment opened, was darkened, and closed again. The figure standing in the entryway would be considered enormous in almost any anthrozoological circle. Even with a door that was clearly designed with above-average sizes in mind, the bulky figure had to duck and edge sideways slightly just to make it through.

"I'm home," he rumbled, hanging a heavy overcoat on a brass hook and dropping his briefcase against the inexpensive pine shoe-shelf. The duffel bag he carried in his other black-furred hand, though, he did not release.

"Evening, sweetie!" called the impossibly chipper voice from the kitchen. "I'm doing ribs tonight, you seemed a little down on the phone."

His muzzle twitched, but could not make it all the way to a smile. "You know what I need, honey," he said with soft affection, dark blue jacket ending up on another hook.

"That's later, and only if you eat all your ribs. You'll need your strength."

Rowan had to chuckle, finally hanging up his blue-and-black hat. "Is that a threat?"

"Absolutely, officer!" came the disarmingly sing-song response.

He thumped down the narrow hallway, ducking his head with practiced ease beneath the brass light fixture, and squeezed into the kitchen. There were certainly apartments that could accommodate someone of his size, but they were quite expensive, and his wife would feel even more awkward than she did now. Laying his eyes on the delicate, ever-accommodating figure of his wife, he wondered how he could have been so lucky. He never understood how her people had come to be the ubiquitous term for the stereotypical disagreeable, emasculating female.

He bent down low, almost forming an inverted U-shaped, and kissed Molly on the forehead. She was a shrew, with a lithe little body and limbs that bordered on spindly, and even standing on a stool chopping vegetables for dinner he had to hunch way over to reach her. They had each heard the comments and questions regarding their obvious size discrepancy a million times, and spent many evenings coming up with witty replies.

"Good day?"

"Meh. Not bad."

"Beats night patrols, sweetie. I died every time you went out."

"Like anyone out there is scarier than me."

"Not scarier, dear. Crazier."

He chuckled and kissed her again. "Fourteen years injury-free, hon."

"That's only because fourteen point one years ago..."

"Yeah, yeah. Dinner smells good."

He plodded slowly backwards out of the kitchen, knowing full well he hardly had enough room to turn around and was far more of a hindrance than a help, and headed to his den. The irony of a bear having his own den was not lost on him, and one year, shortly after moving in, his wife had paneled the entire thing with dark walnut. To complete the pastiche, she had even scattered sticks and leaves on the carpet. He cleaned up the sticks, but kept them in a bag in the closet anyways.

The door clicked behind him, and he sat down at the wide wooden desk, heaped with small tectonic collections of paperwork. The duffel bag thumped heavily amongst them, triggering avalanches that fell unseen to the floor.

He unzipped the bag, but took a deep breath before going any further. He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and sighed. Fourteen years. He'd actually thought he'd dodged all suspicion, thought he'd be able to go the rest of his life without having to confront his condition. He'd settled into his life, settled into his routine. Down the hall, he could hear Molly cooking merrily away. He was happy.

Then he ruined all that by looking inside the bag.

He pulled out a black lump of cloth that revealed itself to be a very large hood. A much larger heap was a stylized black jacket, but instead of a shiny metal zipper it was covered in heavy chrome steel straps and buckles. Impact pads and contact points for weapons and tactical equipment completely covered it. Gloves, pants and boots followed, and in the end was simply just a heap of silver and black on his desk.

He put his shovel-sized paws on his hips and shook his head.

"Fuck."

---

Jasmine checked the little slip of paper again, re-reading the address scribbled on it for the tenth time. Shi read the faded, peeling numbers painted onto the side of the enormous structure. Shi glanced over to the poorly-lit street sign at the end of the block. There was no doubt: this was undoubtedly 1391 Water Street.

"What a shithole," shi mumbled to no-one in particular.

Water Street, as the name might suggest, ran parallel to the shoreline and seemed to consist entirely of old, creepy-looking warehouses, engine repair shops and... no, that was it, really. It reminded hir of all those cheezy Mafia movies, where criminals would conduct deals down by the docks.

The slender jackalope stuffed the paper back into one of the countless zippered pockets on hir oversized coat and pulled a stainless steel flask out of another, taking a long swig. The liquor burned hir throat and she sighed, feeling hir tense nerves slowly relaxing. Well, shi thought, maybe this is part of the initiation. I can handle this.

The enormous, rust-caked steel doors were locked, and a few tugs proved that they weren't going to move without bringing the entire building down. There was a small man-door located next to it, but it was also locked, and shi didn't think that if this really WAS the place, the inhabitants would appreciate hir destroying it. That just left...

"Windows," shi grumbled, staring up. Dirty, grease-smudged glass ringed the building, maybe forty feet off the ground. Some of them were tilted open, but there seemed to be no sound, no light, no life coming from beyond them. "Bill, if you're fucking with me, I'm gonna choke you out."

Shi replaced the flask, reached into yet another pocket and pulled out a pair of fingerless gloves with bronze spikes lining the palms. Jasmine knew shi wasn't really adhering to the unwritten code of superhero fashion sense, but shi favored practicality over style. That, and shi barely had enough money after food and rent to buy the equipment shi DID have; spending a small fortune on Kevlar and spandex and capes was not in the cards just yet.

But maybe tonight would change all that.

Flexing hir nimble fingers, shi found a section of wall beneath an open window that looked the least decrepit, and started to climb. The heavy, aged wooden timbers were perfect to climb, far easier than the crumbling bricks and shiny aluminum of the city, and shi reached the window in seconds. Shi carefully maneuvered hir antlers beneath the sash and poked hir eyes over the sill.

"Figures." The interior of the warehouse was empty, at least of the sort of life shi was expecting to see. There were vast banks of shelves burdened with crates and containers, lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the streaked windows. Shi could hear dock rats squeaking and scurrying around, and that was it. "Bill, you're a dead man."

"Big words," came a deep, raspy voice from just beyond the window.

Jasmine only heard the word 'big', though, before hir ears were filled with the sounds of the window shattering, hir antlers tearing it loose from the frame. Luckily hir hands tightened on the timber, or shi would have fallen to the rough asphalt below, and shi was proud of hirself for at least not screaming.

Breathing hard, heart pounding, shi shook hir head to dislodge the glass and wood splinters from hir hair. "I fucking hate it when you do that," shi seethed, glad that shi'd worn hir goggles.

"I know," Bill said, lifting his head slightly. Jasmine realized he had been laying on his back atop a stack of crates, directly beneath the window shi had been aiming for. "You spook easy. Good way to die."

"I wasn't EXPECTING-" shi started to say, but cut hirself off.

The badger grinned humorlessly. "My point exactly. Your heart is still going crazy. You're late."

Still hanging off the side of the building, Jasmine struggled to resist the urge to punch hir rather unconventional mentor, mostly because shi knew he'd probably like it. "I thought you were meeting me outside," shi muttered. "I didn't want to go in without you."

"You're one of us. You go wherever you want."

"Huh, with a mentality like that, it's hard to understand how you ended up on the Top 10 Most Wanted list."

"Still just number two," Bill chuffed. "You coming in, or what? I'm hungry."

"Get your ass out of the way then!"

"I was here first."

Shi looked down at the comfortably reclined barrel-chested badger, dressed head to toe in matte black, and shook hir head. "I'll take my chances, thanks," shi smiled sweetly, prying open the window to hir left and climbing in through that one.

"Damn," Bill grunted blandly. "Thought that would have worked."

Slipping the spiked gloves back into hir pockets, shi shook the kinks out of hir arms and scanned the warehouse. "So where is everyone? I kinda expected a little more... you know... anything."

The hulking badger pointed down at the middle of the warehouse. "Right there."

"What, like in the basement?"

"No."

Jasmine narrowed hir eyes. "You're fucking with me."

"You swear a lot." Bill heaved himself off of the crate, thumping from box to box until he reached the dusty concrete floor. "I'm going to leave you behind."

"Leave me? Where the hell you gonna go?" The jackalope continued to pluck bits of debris out of hir hair, smoothing hir floppy ears back. "I could track you in a snowstorm, Bill."

The only response was silence.

Shi froze, listening for Bill's unmistakable grunting wheeze, and the near-constant clanking of his weaponry. There was nothing. As dark as his outfit might have been, shi should have been able to pick him out in the huge, empty, gymnasium-sized open space.

Shi was alone in the warehouse.

"Bill?"

Shi bounced from crate to crate, long legs absorbing the shock with hardly a sound to betray hir presence. His footsteps in the dust were easy to see, enormous steel-toed boots crushing the scattered garbage flat. Hands moving with practiced ease, shi pulled out hir flask and downed the last of the cheap rye in one gulp. Shi didn't want to be caught off-guard again.

Moving stealthily, shi hoped, shi followed his footprints. He had walked directly into the middle of the warehouse, sturdy little forklifts forming a rough circle. Where his path took him between two of those vehicles, the footprints ended.

"Bill?" shi whispered again.

Nothing.

Sniffing uncertainly at the air, shi inched forwards, leaving the protective cover of the mounded cargo containers. Hir little paws slipped into yet more pockets and came out glinting with steel, the familiar weight of hir knuckledusters bolstering hir bravery. Shi'd never started a fight shi'd never been able to finish, but whatever had happened seemed to have bested Bill... that was not good.

Stepping in his footprints, head down, fists at the ready, shi approached the forklifts. On the very fringes of hir hearing, shi thought shi could detect several faint voices, a smattering of laughter. That's a big gang! shi thought, grinning viciously to hirself. Good. It's been a while since I've gotten a good workout!

Nerves humming, fur standing up on end, shi reached Bill's final footprint...

... and found hirself staring into a dozen brightly-lit, smiling faces.

"'Bout fucking time," Bill grunted.

Jasmine straightened slowly, trying to conceal hir fists behind hir back while slipping the steel knuckles off. A moment before, the warehouse had been dark, silent and ominous. Now shi stood in a circle of light that filled the entire middle of the building, dance music blaring from unseen speakers, surrounded by garishly-dressed vigilantes.

"Uhm..."

A statuesque and almost blindingly-outfitted figure stepped forward, grinning enormously and holding out a can of beer. "Greetings!" said Soarceress, one of the more famous local superheroines. The glamorous magic-using doe-grrl was dressed from head to toe in ultraviolet purple robes covered in silver and gold stars and moons and eldtritch designs, her smooth, velvety antlers strung with gems and crystals. Shi looked like a carnival fortune-telling gypsy had collided with a pre-school arts and crafts session. "Junk?"

The jackalope nodded dumbly, tucking hir weapons away. "Uhm... yeah. I..." Shi looked around, gesturing to where the light abruptly ended a foot behind hir. "How...?"

Soarceress waved a hand. "Illusions. It's a thing I do," shi said dismissively. "Come on! Come on in! It's always nice to meet fresh meat! Nice antlers, by the way!"

Jasmine had never felt quite so underdressed. Shi rubbed hir arms, glancing down at hir functional zipper-covered motorcycle jacket and military surplus cargo pants, slashed throughout with streaks of red spray paint. Everyone else present could have stepped straight out of a summer blockbuster. Half a dozen conversations had stopped when shi pierced the strange barrier, but soon shi ceased to be the centre of attention.

Soarceress raised the beer up higher, waving it back and forth in front of Jasmine's goggles. "Bill, I think shi's asleep," the doe grinned. "You brought us the Narcoleptic Avenger."

Jasmine shook hir head, pointed antlers swishing. Hir crown was nowhere near as impressive as Soarceress's, and shi doubted any part of hir could be as impressive as anyone else present. There were Herculean males, some wearing armor, some wearing leather, some wearing very little at all. There were porn-star-proportioned females, and while very little actual flesh was on display the words 'skin-tight' hardly seemed to do their outfits justice. Soarceress was probably the most modestly dressed, with hir loose flowing robes, but it was still plainly obvious that shi was marvelously blessed underneath.

The jackalope took the beer carefully, not wanting to open it after such a vigorous shaking. "No, I'm just... sorry, this is all sort of new to me!"

"Hey, it was new for all of us," Soarceress said, walking towards where an honest-to-goodness solid oak bar was set up between two forklifts. "That's why we have our little get-togethers like this. Bill, you brought hir, you gotta do the honors. I need a refill."

One by one, Jasmine tried to put names to faces. Shi had seen some of these heroes on the news, or online when shi used the free library terminals to check hir e-mail, and once or twice shi had seen them in person. Probably half of the crowd were based in different cities, so this was a heck of a get-together!

Critical Bill, one of Motor City's most-feared metafurs, walked over to a nearby crate and hopped up onto it. Sword pommels protruded over each shoulder, and shi knew that the depths of his leather trenchcoat held far more weapons than even hir own. The heavyset honey badger was not especially tall or noticeably well-muscled, but his reputation was often enough to get criminals to surrender on sight.

"HEY!" he barked, and suddenly everyone's attention was back on the pair of them. Bill pointed at Jasmine, who was trying to shrink into hir jacket. "This is Junk! Shi's new! Been patrolling 122nd to 140th by Mason! Say hello!"

Jasmine's, aka Junk's, jaw dropped. "Well, that was... certainly an introduction," shi muttered dryly when Bill hopped back down. Shi waved at the assembled superheroes, and they waved back, expressions open and friendly. "Hi," shi said loudly.

There was a chorus of greetings, and then once more they went back to their conversations. Jasmine turned to Bill. "That's it?"

Bill grunted. "I got you in. I'm done. Up to you now." Without waiting for a reply, the honey badger thumped off towards the bar, and Jasmine had to chuckle when shi saw far larger and more dangerous-looking crimefighters edging out of his way.

Shi tugged nervously on hir ears, still held back in a scrunchie, and wondered what to do. Shi would be the first to admit that shi was a small-time operator, using hir innate talents to try and make hir neighborhood a little safer, while shi recognized people here who had stopped bank robberies with their bare hands, who had been trapped within collapsing buildings and emerged virtually unscathed, who had been filmed by pedestrians ripping cars in half.

"What the hell am I doing here?" shi whispered to hirself, pulling open the beer with one finger. Shi was tall for hir age, hir bulky outfit masking hir thin, almost spindly body. Shi noticed a few curious glances at hir antlers, but shi was long past feeling self-conscious about them. Shi might be a drab brown hare from hir toes to hir ears, but hir ivory-white horns always drew attention wherever shi went.

Shi brought the can to hir lips and downed the entire beverage in one breath. When hir head tilted forwards once again shi found hirself face-to-face with a vision in glossy black rubber.

"Hi!" said the voluptuous raccoon-girl. She seemed almost vacuum-packed into her outfit, not a single hair left exposed below the neck, each finger and toe clearly defined in the squeaking material. She wore a mask across her eyes, which somehow seemed superfluous, given her natural raccoon coloring. "Thirsty much?"

Jasmine crushed the empty can and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. It doesn't affect me much. Hi, I'm Junk," shi said, extending a paw.

The rubbery raccoon gripped hir paw with a deceptively steel-hard handshake. "I'm Diamond," she said brightly, bushy tail swishing behind her. She was considerably shorter than Jasmine, but she had clearly expanded in the other two directions to compensate. In hir wildest dreams, Jasmine dreamed of having a curvy body like that! "Welcome to the gang! Here, let me show you around, since Bill's probably not going to."

"Yeah, he-" Jasmine started, but without letting go the overly-friendly Diamond started to drag hir through the crowd. The jackalope dug in hir heels, but shi might as well have tried to stop a diesel locomotive with hir bare hands. "Whoa! Ok, ok, I'm coming."

The next hour was a dizzying series of introductions. Several people gave hir business cards, some with their superhero names on them along with cel numbers and e-mail addresses, some for private contractors that could help hir update hir outfit. Shi accepted them all gratefully, tucking them into hir many pockets.

"I need to get this thing fixed so often," Diamond was saying, poking at hir glossy black exterior. "I've got three of them, just in case."

The pair were standing with an absolutely enormous equine anthro wearing several hundred pounds of homemade armor, and a stocky hippo wearing perhaps the only costume that was less professionally polished than Jasmine's. "No-one builds for durability anymore," said Sweet Clyde, towering over the group. His voice was so deep it was actually difficult for Jasmine to make out individual words. "Look at me. Made all this myself, and I can fix it myself, too."

"Yeah, but you made it out of an old armored car," Transit said dryly, rapping his grey knuckles against a chestplate that had countless dings and scratches from gunfire. "Some of us can't rip plate steel with our bare hands."

"I have to use gloves," Sweet Clyde said, sounding hurt.

"Oh, BIG difference."

Diamond giggled. "Sweet Clyde is, like, probably the strongest one here, in terms of lifting, but he's still squishy, hence the armor," she explained to Jasmine. "Kind of a lame tradeoff, not being bulletproof."

"Does everyone here know everyone else's powers?" Jasmine whispered, hir voice low and nervous. "You don't need to tell me this sort of thing..."

Transit waved a huge grey hand dismissively. "Most of us know everything about eachother, and anyone with a couple hours online can figure it out from the footage. There's no real secrets anymore. Do you know what I can do?"

Jasmine thought hard. "No..." shi said slowly.

The hippo seemed to deflate. "Aww. Damn. I gotta get on the news more." Jasmine would have guessed the big teen had been on his way to a punk rock show and somehow gotten lost: he wore a frayed denim vest covered in patches and humorous pins over a Metallica shirt, a pair of jeans, and heavy boots. An pair of aluminum baseball bats hung from loops on his belt, and shi counted more than twenty piercings in his ears, nose and lip. If there was a less heroic-looking hero present, shi couldn't find him. "Here, watch this."

That was easier said than done: with a 'pop' of air rushing in to fill the space, Transit disappeared. "Uhm..."

Sweet Clyde just chuckled, holding a beer between thumb and forefinger with extreme care. "He does that," the colossal equine rumbled. Jasmine guessed him to be in excess of eight feet tall, and wondered if he had a secret identity, either. He would be instantly noticeable anywhere!

Another 'pop' and Transit was back, holding a six-pack in one hand. "Refill?" he asked, holding it towards hir.

"That is so cool," Jasmine said in awe, automatically grabbing another can. "No wonder you're hard to film!"

Transit rolled his eyes, running a hand through his spiky orange hair. "It's a curse. I ain't bulletproof, either, so there's lots of fooping."

"Fooping?"

"That's the sound I make, so I've been told."

Diamond managed to stifle a giggle, but Sweet Clyde's enormous chest was bouncing beneath his armor. "Gotta call it something," he thundered jovially.

"Still, that's awesome!" Jasmine gasped. "I mean, teleporting! Holy cow. Do you do a lot of Search & Rescue stuff? Hostage situations? Can you go through walls? What's your range?"

"Whoa, whoa, little lady!" Transit said, holding up the five-pack protectively. "I gotta have SOME trade secrets!"

Despite his ungainly bulk, also being the only person present who could possibly be called overweight, Jasmine had to wonder if he was potentially also the fastest. Looks can be deceiving, shi told hirself. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't... I mean, I'm not sure what to tell people about myself."

"Only what you're comfortable with," Diamond said soothingly, patting the jackalope's shoulder. "Though I won't deny I'm curious about the name."

As one, Sweet Clyde and Transit glanced at the jackalope's unremarkable body. "No," Jasmine said in mock exasperation, "that's not what Junk refers to." The hippo, at least, had the politeness to blush; the gigantic equine just shrugged.

Shi looked around, patted hir pockets, and wondered what to do. Shi'd thought about it on the way over, but shi wasn't so sure showing them EVERYTHING was a good idea just yet. "Here, hold on a second," shi said, dashing over to the bar.

Diamond, Transit and Clyde exchanged glances. "So, whaddya think?" the raccoon said.

Transit tapped his lantern jaw thoughtfully. "Shi got over the crowd pretty quick, shi drinks like a fish, and let's face it, shi got BILL'S approval. Bill doesn't even like ME."

"No-one likes you, Paulie."

"Awww."

Jasmine returned, holding a bottle of Jolly Old Stolli, renowned for being the cheapest vodka around, and therefore among the most popular. "I'll pay for this, don't worry," shi said, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to hir lips.

"Hey, now the party's coming alive!" Transit said, rubbing his hands together.

The three watched, eyes widening, as the slender jackalope, occasionally breathing through hir nose, downed the entire bottle of vodka. "Uhm... do we need to call an ambulance?" Diamond asked.

With a satisfied puff and a lick of hir lips, Jasmine held up the empty bottle. "Ta daa."

There was silence. "That's your superpower?" Diamond said a little hesitantly.

"That's part of it."

"What's the other part?"

Jasmine carefully placed the bottle on the ground, walked up to Sweet Clyde, wrapped hir arms around his waist... and picked him up off the ground with a little grunt of effort. The equine's arms pinwheeled, his eyes wide with panic. "Whoa! Whoa! Tipping over!"

"I gotcha, big fella, I gotcha!" Jasmine said, hir nerves singing with energy. Shi hoisted the tank-like hero a little higher, braced him with one shoulder, and then let hir other arm hang loosely by hir side. "Ta daa," shi repeated.

There was a smattering of applause, some of the other partygoers watching the display. When Clyde calmed down slightly, shi leaned forward and deposited him back onto his feet with a thump that caused the entire warehouse to shake slightly. "You could have warned me," he said reproachfully.

"Sorry. I thought it would be funnier this way," shi smiled, patting his hand. "Thanks for your help, though!"

"Anytime," he rumbled.

Transit picked up the empty vodka bottle. "So you're powered by booze? That's... kind of messed up, but kind of awesome."

"Not just alcohol, but that's the easiest," Jasmine said casually, feeling far more comfortable now. That was always the danger when shi 'powered up'... shi might not get drunk, but hir personality did become a little more fluid. "I've got a weird metabolism."

"I'll say," Diamond nodded, seeing Jasmine in a new light. "Well, you'll definitely fit in well around here!"

"Thanks. What about you?" Jasmine pulled the beer shi'd grabbed from Transit out of hir pocket and cracked it. "I know what Sweet Clyde and Transit can do, but... is there a reason for the whole dominatrix getup?"

"I told you that's what it was!" Transit crowed, slapping Clyde on the back.

"It's not a dom outfit!" Diamond snapped. "Trans, you know why I wear it, so you just shut the hell up!" The curvaceous raccoon took a deep, bodice-creaking breath and calmed herself. "I'm just really strong, too. And no, I'm not telling about the outfit. And Transit won't, either, because he knows I'd snap him in half like a twig."

Jasmine held up hir hands. "Hey, no problem. It's kind of weird for me to be telling people this, too, so... thanks. Really. Thanks." Someone had switched out the music, and now raucous rock filled the mostly-empty warehouse. "How often do you guys meet up?"

"Eh, couple times a year," Transit said, flipping idly through his smart-phone. "The Feds are always hassling us anytime we get together in groups larger than two, so it's all thanks to Soarceress we can pull this off."

"Speaking of the Feds," Clyde rumbled, "how did you meet Bill?"

Jasmine's sight and hearing was currently augmented along with hir strength, and shi noticed several eyes and ears swiveling hir direction at that seemingly innocent question. "My area's kind of small. I just sort of try to keep my neighborhood clean. I... thought Bill was a mugger. Saw him fucking up some Dice in an alley."

The other three heroes nodded. The Loaded Dice were a notorious gang rumored to have more than a few metafurs of their own on the payroll, and seemed to be making a push for a larger share of the local drug trade. "So you went in to help him?"

The young vigilante chuckled bashfully. "Actually, I tried to help the Dice, since it looked like he was going to kill them."

Transit winced. "Did Bill hurt you?"

"No. I broke his leg."

Nothing short of a shotgun blast could have silenced the crowd so fast. Everyone was staring openly at hir now, shock clear on a dozen faces. Bill was the only one not gawking, but he had clearly been listening. "That's not quite how it happened," he grunted.

A tall, whip-lean wolf sat on his haunches and poked a finger at the badger's leg. "Doesn't look all that broken."

"I heal fast. Junk talks too much."

"Sorry, Bill!"

Midnight came and went, and no matter how quickly shi drank Jasmine always found hirself with a fresh beverage in hand. The peculiar nature of hir abilities caused quite a stir, even though shi found them quite mundane compared to everyone else's. Shi had to politely decline several tests of strength, even though Sweet Clyde was quite insistent.

Transit cornered hir a little later and explained that he was the unofficial record-keeper for the group, as his abilities lent themselves quite well to surveillance-proof communication. Using his smartphone shi outlined what shi had claimed as hir territory, and they agreed upon a safe meeting place, which would be the roof of the HoJo on 130th Street.

"Phone number?" he asked.

Jasmine shrugged. "I don't have one."

"Well, that is definitely old-school underground vigilante style, but you're gonna need one. We keep in touch. Ok, meet me on the HoJo on Wednesday at midnight, I'll have the standard package for you. Prepaid cel phone, Federal Metafur Manual, the names of some friendly doctors, tips for how to maintain a secret identity, the usual."

"Wow. There's not, like... tryouts, or anything?" shi asked wonderingly. "I'm just in?"

"Junk, you beat up Critical Bill, and lived to tell the story. You're in."

---

Around three in the morning people started to drift away. Some had to get up for work in a couple hours, some had families to get back to, and some had paired up in an advanced romantic state and needed some privacy. Transit charged twenty dollars a head to teleport people across the city.

Jasmine's powers had faded rapidly after hir little demonstration, and there was only so much that beer could do before shi metabolized it. Shi supposed that was the other side of hir secret: most of the time, shi was only as strong as the average person on the street. Maybe even a bit less. Shi had tried to maintain higher levels of power for longer periods, but it was prohibitively expensive, and shi wasn't entirely sure it was bad for hir liver or not.

Soarceress dematerialized the oak bar, somehow, and the remaining booze and snacks were divided up. Jasmine tried to pay for all that shi had consumed, which was considerable, but the doegrrl just waved hir off. "Don't worry about it. I pay for these little shindigs."

"You rich? I mean, your secret identity rich?" Jasmine asked, munching on hir third bag of puffed nacho chips.

The wizardess chuckled. "I dunno about rich," shi said, hir antlers shaking, dozens of precious gemstones clattering together. "I got some assets."

There was a 'pop' and Transit appeared, his hand already moving to pat Soarceress's butt. "That's for su-"

The doegrrl spun like a prizefighter, fist snapping from hir hip, but Transit was already gone. Jasmine laughed, and from somewhere in the warehouse shi could hear the hippo's guffaws. "Hey, someone had to say it!" he called from among the crates.

Soarceress waved hir hand dismissively and the strange, diffuse light faded, plunging the old building into natural darkness. "I don't know why we keep inviting him," shi muttered.

"I gotta say, it's actually kind of reassuring," Jasmine said with a grin. "I was worried everyone here was going to be, well... too upstanding for me. I figured I was going to be the beggar at the ball."

"I'm glad our lack of decorum brings you joy," the doegrrl grumbled, but Jasmine could see hir smile in the moonlight. "Yeah, we're pretty normal. Most of us. Which is the main reason the Feds are always on our case and trying to slap us with rules and sanctions."

The jackalope shuffled hir feet. "Do you think they'll come after me? I've been REALLY good about calling the cops every time I do something, though most of the time the dealers and thugs I deal with end up back on the street because there's no witnesses, so from a certain point of view I'm really just assaulting people..."

Soarceress waved a hand. "Don't worry. Bill said he's been watching you for weeks, and says you're on the up and up. Says you know right from wrong, and you haven't abused your powers. That's sort of our entry-level requirement."

"He's been watching me?!"

"Don't worry, that's what Bill does best," Soar said, picking up a cloth bag of clinking glass bottles and gesturing towards the back of the warehouse. "Shall we? You need a lift anywhere?"

The two grrls started to walk. "Nah, I'm good. I like to walk." Shi held up the bag of wholly artificial snack food and shook the remaining crumbs into hir mouth before crumpling it up and devouring it as well. "Mmmm."

"Did you just eat the bag?"

"Part of my metabolism."

"Ah." A pause. "Is it tasty?"

"It actually is. It's got a salty citrus tang."

"Wow. I guess your name makes sense!"

"I save on grocery bills," Jasmine grinned.

With a wave of hir hand, Soarceress closed the door behind them, the lock clicking automatically. "Well! Thanks for coming out, Junk," the experienced superheroine said, patting the jackalope's shoulder. "Regretting your life choices yet, being forced to hang out with us?"

"You guys are marginally more fun than the people I pummel the rest of the time," Jasmine winked.

"Don't say that until you've met the rest of us," Soarceress laughed. "Have a good night!"

"Uhm... can I ask a question?"

The doegrrl paused. "Sure! That's why you're here. What do you need?"

The neophyte shuffled hir feet. "Uhm... does everyone come to these get-togethers?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"What about... Amalthea?"

The wind picked up, shuffling bits of paper around their legs. Soarceress's face didn't change, but it was obvious shi was thinking hard. "We invite hir," shi said slowly. "But shi doesn't like crowds very much."

Jasmine nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Shi looked up at the starry sky and sighed. "When I was just a little kid, I wanted to be just like hir. Shi's the whole reason I wanted to be a crimefighter, so when I figured out that my body had it's little... quirks, I thought my dreams had come true. I saw hir once, when I was downtown one night."

Soarceress nodded. "I understand. Shi's probably the reason a lot of people decided to use their powers for good, or even to go public with them."

"Do you know hir?" Jasmine asked, a little too fast.

"We all know hir."

"But I mean actually know hir. Talk to hir. Hang out with hir."

The doegrrl just smiled hir small, enigmatic smile. "Go home. Get some rest. We can grab a bite to eat some time this week, when Transit gets you a phone."

Jasmine nodded. Too far for my first night. Should've known. "Ok, thanks," shi said, sticking hir hands in hir pockets. "I'd like that."

After watching hir walk away, whistling a little ditty to hirself, Soarceress lifted slowly up into the air, robes swishing around hir feet. It had been a while since they've had a genuinely new recruit, almost a full year. More and more people were discovering their powers and either signing up with the Feds, or were seduced by the possibilities for personal gain. Bill might be a borderline sociopath, but he was probably the most incorruptible one among them; his word carried a lot of weight.

"Shi seems nice," said a deep, melodious voice.

Soarceress nodded, touching down on the weather-worn tar-and-gravel roof with a crunch. "Shi is. Got along fine with everyone. Shi picked up Clyde with one arm."

The doegrrl was tall, nearly six feet to the top of hir head, close to eight with the antlers, but the huddled, formless shape leaning up against a huge air duct was bigger still. "Not bad, not bad. What's hir territory?"

"Maybe a square mile centered on the HoJo on 130th. Pretty rough neighborhood. Drink?"

A well-muscled, scaly arm reached out, grasping the offered bag with one finger. "Thanks. Any snacks left over?"

"Nah. New grrl ate them all. Bags included."

"Haa haa," the massive shape chuckled, then asked, "Wait, seriously?"

"Yup! There might finally be someone with a more uncontrollable appetite than you," Soarceress laughed. "Shi's a big fan of yours."

"Yeah, I heard," Amalthea purred, shifting hir weight, the roof creaking in protest. "Maybe I'll go say hi, sometime."

"Be prepared to sign an autograph," the doegrrl grinned. "But I think shi'd like that. You should have come down! We miss you."

"Eh, I felt like being alone tonight."

"Honey, you're always alone," Soarceress said sadly. "It's not good for you."

"I was fine before all you came along," Amalthea said with a little more bite than shi intended. Shi inhaled slowly and sighed. "I didn't mean it quite like that..."

"I know, grrl, I know," Soar said softly, patting the huge, angelic wings that were wrapped around Amalthea's body. "Things are changing, slowly, but you can't hide away all the time. Think of the old days! You used to be a fixture downtown. You posed for pictures with little kids! I've still got mine at home, over the fireplace."

The indistinct shape shrugged massive shoulders. "It's not the same now. I scare people."

"Their problem, honey, NOT yours," Soarceress said, but shi knew there was no getting through to Amalthea tonight, not when shi was in one of hir moods. "Anyways, you know the invitation is always open, and we'd all love to see you. Even Bill was asking about you."

"Eh, he just wants to be Number One on the Most Wanted list," Amalthea said with a small smile. "But I ain't giving up my title!"

"That's the spirit!" the doegrrl said happily. Shi took two hasty steps back, though, when the enormous figure rose to hir feet.

Amalthea was not hir real name, simply one given to hir ages ago by one of the first professors to make a career out of hir existence. Shi didn't know hir real name, or claimed to not know it, so Amalthea worked as well as any other. Shi towered over Soarceress, twice hir height and close to ten times hir mass, wings outstretched twenty feet to either side. The doegrrl had known the great chimera for years, and although they were close friends shi still had to admit that the kind-hearted titan made hir a little nervous.

The leonine head staring down at hir, green eyes sparkling in the moonlight, was youthful and quite gorgeous, despite the curled goat-horns emerging from hir flowing silvery locks. Velvet tawny fur gave way to a much shaggier canine torso, furry arms transitioning to violet scales at the elbow. Hir midsection was a deep, glossy black, clearly equine, while hir legs resembled those of an eagle below hir knees. The red draconian tail waving back and forth behind hir completed the hero's impossible make-up. Clad only in a beaten-steel codpiece and a torso plate that resembled a metallic jogging bra, Amalthea was, after a recent multinational poll, the most widely-recognized person in the world.

Fame or not, though, Amalthea would have traded it all for twenty-four hours of anonymity.

"I'm gonna go," the larger than life heroine said, jabbing a thumb over one shoulder. "You have a good night."

"You wanna come over to my place?" Soarceress asked quickly. "Hang out? I got some new albums you might like..."

Amalthea smiled and patted hir friend very carefully on the shoulder. "Not tonight. I kinda just wanna... drift for a bit. I'll see you around, ok?"

"Ok," the doegrrl said uncertainly. Shi was about to ask the chimera if shi'd charged hir cel phone yet, but with a pump of those vast wings shi was already out of earshot, gravel scattering in the brief turbulent tornado of hir wake. Soarceress watched hir flap away into the night, and sighed. "Take care," shi whispered.

This was just a little introduction to their world, and some of the main characters. Stay tuned for Part 2: There's A New Sheriff In Town