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Chapter Text

This, Lisa Wilbourne thought to herself in a semi-hysterical moment of humor, was probably the third worst day of her life, which was exceptionally strange since it would also probably be the last day.

How exactly the thugs' master had gotten the streets clear enough that she couldn't yell for help wasn't clear, but it spoke to the level of control whoever it was had. Unfortunately (according to her very well-honed imagination) the thugs wanted her alive, and there were very few good reasons she could think of for that, but it did give her an opportunity to run and dodge fire from their non-standard guns. Tinkertech, obviously, and that made it pretty clear they weren't with the ABB, which was a little odd seeing as there were some very asian elements to this neighborhood. The paper lanterns, the red and green gang signs, the numerous chinese/japanese/korean/indian restaurants, all spoke to the local populace of hopeful refugees from a very rough part of the world.

Lisa reluctantly admitted to herself, as she shoved a trash can down in hopes of slowing her pursuers, that such thoughts were a little reductionist. She wasn't racist--she treated all pricks with equal disrespect, no matter the color of their skin--but certain factors had conspired to make minor prejudices a survival trait in the hellhole of Brockton bay. Those factors were, by name, Kaiser of the Empire Eighty Eight (presumably white, since he ran a nazi gang), Lung of the Asian Bad Boys (definitely japanese, though most people considered his ethnicity to be Asian Dragon), and Skidmark of the Archer's Bridge Merchants (technically african-american, though seemingly devoted to becoming the worst 'black ganger' stereotype since Jim Crow, despite his gang being the least racist of them all). Obviously not all white/asian/druggies belonged to the gangs, but even if nine times out of ten an aryan and an oriental could pass on the street without a fault, everybody remembered the nazi and the yakuza punk pulling guns on each other to bring death and terror. And that was before capes got involved...

As she covered her head and zigzagged to avoid what she desperately hoped was a stunning blast, Lisa reflected on how terrible the whole situation was and asked herself, again, why she'd come to this city. Yes, fine, it was infamous for its lack of PRT effectiveness, which gave her a better chance than most to stay out of her parents' grasp, but... well, that, that was pretty much it. She turned a corner, cursing the stupidity of her past teenage self (and, to be fair, her current teenage self) when she witnessed what, in a flash of brilliance, she hoped would be her salvation.

A red shinto gate.

Now Lisa would be the first to admit she wasn't the most religious of people, and even then she was more familiar with Judeo-Christian matters than any eastern faiths. In fact, her entire sense of relief was based less on the possibility of any spirit or god saving her, and more on the probability of well-known wrath of Lung and the ABB being brought to bear against any group that damaged their holdings. They were an asian gang, this was an asian place, one and one is two, and she could possibly slip away while things happened. Still, in the back of her mind, Lisa recognized it would be disrespectful to beg sanctuary without providing the spirits compensation, and she was at least partially aware that not all spirits were created equal. She'd studied enough asian lore to recognize that just because the fox statues were, well, fox statues, it didn't mean they were friendly kitsune; they could be unfriendly kitsune, or chinese huli jing, or something else. So as she sprinted through the gate, she pulled her wallet out of her pocket, the wallet that contained all the cash and gift cards she owned, and tossed it into the offering bowl with a mental prayer of 'please let this save my ass' before diving toward the main building.

The next three seconds were some of the most involved in the young woman's life, with a sequence of events she was only able to mentally order after she'd calmed down. There was... the flash of fire that consumed her wallet, which she saw out of the corner of her eye. There was a sensation of something both fond and amused looking over her, for half a second, before coming to a decision. The chill of the autumn air was pushed back by an inner warmth that made her joints feel unnaturally relaxed, even as the building in front of her stretched away just a bit. A sudden flap behind her made her ears flick (and a half second later she realized her ears had flicked and felt immensely baffled) followed by an odd bristling along her tail as it was exposed to the air (and then she realized she had a tail, and had an irrational thought about how hard it would be to groom it).

Lisa landed in the shrine on four new paws, and had a momentary burst of confusion that froze her in place. Then the sound of boots pounding on pavement reached her ears and she darted further into the shrine, curling up under a desk until she was absolutely certain the thugs chasing her had moved on.

Then she took a few minutes to review what had happened mentally.

"...Okay."

Lisa blinked, crossing her eyes and looking at her muzzle.

"O...kay. Okay okay. Ahem. She sells sea shells by the seashore... Okay, so I can still talk. That's... yeah, okay, okay." She took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, yeah, okay. This is happening. No need to panic. Actually, yes, there is a need to panic, but calmly. Calmly panic. Yep."

She rose to her paws with trepidation, carefully remastering the art of walking as practiced by a decent portion of animal life forms, and wandered out of the shrine with a dazed expression. She nodded vaguely at the clothes on the pathway--too large for her now, and they'd probably need a refit anyway--before approaching the offering dish and wrinkling her nose at the scent of burnt leather, plastic, and metals coming from the pile of ash.

A dripping sound made Lisa's ears flick back, and she turned around to find an ornamental fountain only a short distance away. Some part of her didn't want to acknowledge what she was doing, even as another part put her paws forward one step in front of the other. And yet, despite her wishes, she found herself putting her forepaws on the rim of the fountain and raising herself up to peer at her own reflection.

"...So," she said, looking at the green-eyed fox in the water, "that's what I look like." She tilted her head thoughtfully, flicking her ears one way and the other. "Still kinda blonde... more an orangy blonde, sure. And I think that I can sort of see my freckles in... my... fur..."

She stared at the reflection for a few seconds more.

With a deep breath, she dropped back down and trotted up to the statuette. "Okay, so... thank you for saving my life, and giving me your blessing I guess. Do you mind if I have a little existential crisis right now?"

The statuette didn't reply in words, but Lisa got the sense it understood her situation and didn't mind. Or maybe she was just attributing something to nothing.

"Kay, thanks."

Lisa took a deep breath, curled up on the cold cobblestones, and began to giggle hysterically.

Chapter Text

"So, to recap." Lisa nodded to the statue. "After giving you everything in my wallet, which is basically all my money and fake I.D. cards, you turned me into a fox to save my life. Which, okay, that worked. But now, I don't have any money, or any way to convince the motel owner that I'm who I say I am." She stared at the outfit laying on the cobblestones. "I guess I still have my keys, but... well, let's be honest, the only things I've got back home are clothes, food, and toiletries. I can't use the clothes, and... maybe I can still use the shampoo? Food's always good.... Oh! Phone. I guess I can still grab my phone out of my pocket. Yeah..."

The newly transformed fox trailed off as she looked at her paws, experimentally sheathing and unsheathing them. A sigh escaped her muzzle, longer than she had initially thought it would be.

"This is it. Lisa the fox. Or... kitsune?" She glanced over her shoulder. "Only one tail. Well, uh... well. Do I, do I get new powers as I go...?"

The statuette did not reply to her curious, pleading look. The light, however, made it seem amused.

"...I'm sure this is just HILARIOUS for you," Lisa grumbled, trotting over to her clothes and snuffling into a pocket. "Phone, phone--phone. Geff ouffa f'ere... goffa! Okay. So... paw pads are like fingertips, right?" She unlocked the phone with great care, sighing with relief when she managed to unlock it. "Okay! Working phone..."

For a moment, she stared at the screen.

"...Working phone," she muttered. "What am I thinking? A phone's only useful if I have contacts or money and I don't have either."

She sat down, tapping her new claws against the ground. Survival required food, water, and shelter, and Lisa very much doubted her new fur changed any of that. She was not inclined to live life like a wild animal--she shuddered at the thought of eating a raw rat--and even if she were she somehow doubted she'd suddenly gained any skills with hunting. And that was just food, there were other factors...

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," Lisa groaned. "I'm going to have to find a patsy, aren't I?"

Where the hell was she going to find somebody like that? And who, in their right mind, would take in a fucking fox?

Taylor turned another page of her book, adjusting her glasses to hide the tear stains on her cheek. Books, she'd come to realize, would never betray her. Books were her friends. They couldn't spread lies, or shove her into walls, or pour juice on her hair, or... or steal flutes.

They just told stories.

Stories were good. Stories let her think about anything but her life right now. Stories....

She shivered, glancing back at the library before pulling her coat tighter around her. The bus would be here in a few minutes.

Would Dad be worried if she was late? Would he even care...?

"Rough day, huh?"

The new voice caught Taylor by surprise, and she whipped her eyes up to see... a fox. Sitting on the bench right next to her, and giving her an oddly sympathetic look.

"Yeah, I feel ya. Really, I do."

Taylor blinked.

Very, very carefully, she sidled away.

The fox--that could apparently talk--noticed and rolled her eyes with a huff. "My day's been hell, too. Like, I wake up, and the shower's out. Toilet still works, thank god, but the shower's out. And my landlord is like 'Yeah, plumbing problem, happens sometimes,' and he does nothing about it. So I decide fuck it, there are showers at the local gym, right? And of course, where there are weights, there are weightlifters. Lotta young teenage boys."

Something about the way the fox spoke made Taylor stop her retreat.

"Now the thing is, I'm a parahuman. Not a cape, I stay out of that hero-villain thing, but basically my power makes me like... Sherlock Holmes on crack. So there I am, young teenage blonde girl walking in, I just want to use a shower. And every single guy oogles me, and I get a read on what exactly their fetishes are. Okay, not every guy, there were like... three or four of them that didn't, and one of them wasn't even gay, but god damn that was a terrible start to my morning."

Taylor nodded in slow, growing fascination as the fox continued to narrate to her.

"So I go to my local husking spot. Don't judge, I'm living on my own because my parents are assholes, I have to make a living somehow. Now on a normal day I can frisk a few dozen targets and get a good couple hundred for my troubles. On a good day I might even get five hundred. A bad day still usually nets me around twenty, which is worth a lot at a dollar store. I go to my usual husking spot, ready to charm and wheedle and yes, maybe pickpocket a few idiots, and there is nobody there. Like my god. Nobody."

Despite her earlier concern, Taylor found herself leaning in, enraptured by the slowly developing drama.

"Obviously I'm suspicious, so I turn around, and what do I see? A black van. A fucking... black van. Dark windows. It's like a movie, except it's real, and the guys coming out are after me. Looking at their armor, and their guns? They're not even with the PRT, they're dressed wrong. Somebody wants me, and it's not just because I'm a hot blonde, because no, that wouldn't be bad enough. No, somebody decided they like me for my brains. Like me enough to have me captured."

Taylor didn't quite gasp, but she did inhale sharply.

"So what did I do? The only thing I could: I ran. These guys chased after me, obviously, because it was their job and I was their target. Oh, and they're trained. They'd catch up to me if I just, you know, ran. So I did all the chase scene stuff--jumped over benches, knocked over trash cans to slow them down, you've seen it in I don't know how many action movies. But the smartest thing I did, was head into ABB territory. Or maybe it was the stupidest thing I did, I dunno."

The distance between Taylor and the fox had shrunk considerably, as wide-eyed as she was by the story being told.

"Anyway, that didn't stop them. Here I thought everyone was afraid of Lung, but apparently these guys had balls of titanium or something. Even so, I spot one of those shrines, you know, the shinto things? I decide, fuck it, if the spirits are real it might help and if they're not it'll piss off lung. I toss my wallet into the offering bowl, and what happens?"

"...You turned into a fox."

"I turned into a fox." The fox snorted. "I turned into a fucking fox! I mean, yeah, at least the guys aren't after me anymore, but now all I've got is my phone and my apartment key and that's not a lot of help is it!"

She hunched over, sighing. "Sorry, I... I just needed to vent." Her ear flicked toward Taylor. "How about you? What shit happened to you today?"

"...I brought my dead mother's flute to school and the girls who have been bullying me stole it," Taylor mumbled, awkwardly.

The fox straightened up, looking her over.

"Wow. That sucks."

"I mean... Emma used to be my friend, but--out of the blue, she just decided she hates me! And her new friend, Sophia, she's--ugh, she's physical. She shoves me around, literally. I tried to tell the teachers, but they just ignore it whenever it happens."

"Wow, holy shit. Really? That's awful!"

"I mean... it's not as bad as what happened to you--"

"No no no. I mean yeah," the fox gestured at herself, "I'm sitting naked in the cold, but all that bullshit? It happened in one day. You're getting this all the time? That is not right!"

Taylor huffed. "Glad somebody thinks so."

They fell slient for a moment or two.

"...Hey. Listen." The fox cleared her throat. "I'm going to be straight with you. I kinda... you know, lost everything today. I need a home. And it sounds like you need a friend. So... do you think you could maybe sneak a fox into the house without your dad noticing?"

Taylor frowned at her for a moment... and then she considered it more carefully.

"...He's... pretty depressed. I guess he might not notice. But, we're... not exactly well off."

"Shelter, warmth, and we can figure out food later." The fox smirked wryly. "Take it from a runaway, sometimes a flexible plan is the best kind."

"...fuck it," Taylor muttered after a moment. "Sure, why not? I'm Taylor Hebert."

She held out a hand, and the fox put a paw in it. "Lisa Wilbourne. You know this is exactly how second-rate children's novels start, right?

"Pff, yeah, it is, isn't it?"

Chapter Text

"So this is my house," Taylor said. "Obviously. Uh, don't step on that first step, it's broken."

Lisa hopped over the step casually. "Huh. Nice place. Little worn-down, but... it's pretty cozy."

"Thanks. So, uh..." Taylor rubbed the back of her head. "I... was going to offer you something to eat, but..."

"But you don't know what foxes eat, right? I get that. I don't know what foxes eat, and I am one!" Lisa shot her a wry grin. "Tell you what: I'll go commander your shower, and you can look that up while I'm rinsing up."

"Okay, sure. Bathroom's up the stairs, on the left."

"Thanks, it'll be nice to freshen up again."

Lisa trotted up the stairs and, after a careful examination of the doorknob, rose up to wrassle it into submission. It took some crafty clutching with her claws, but she managed it all on her own, which... okay, yeah, it was satisfying. A little bit of control, taken from an uncaring world!

God, everything sucked... but then again, what else was new?

Hopping into the tub, Lisa paused. Her eyes darted from the bar of soap, to the shampoo bottle, and back to the bar of soap. She sat down, staring at her own forepaws, then at the shampoo bottle. Then the bar of soap.

"...Taylor? I think I have a problem here!"

Fifteen very embarrassing minutes later, a towel-clad fox was grumpily lounging on her new friend's bed.

"...Uh..." Taylor coughed awkwardly. "Maybe I can get you a bath brush? Something you can hold in your..."

She trailed off.

"...In my mouth," Lisa finished.

"Erm."

"It's not a bad idea," she grumbled. "Very practical. Just... you know." She sighed. "Loss of humanity and all."

"I... sorry," Taylor mumbled.

"Not your fault," Lisa assured her. "I guess it could be mine, for praying to strange japanese spirits without thinking things through. But then, I was being chased by suspicious individuals, so..."

"Yeah..."

They sat in silence for a moment or two.

"...Hey." Lisa put a paw on Taylor's knee. "I'm just going through a hard time, okay? None of this is on you. I... might snap a little, but that's not your fault. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. Sor--"

"Nope. No apologizing for things that aren't your fault. My part of the deal is I'm supposed to be your friend, and... yeah." Lisa shrugged. "That's, that's what I'm going to do."

"...I'm still not sure what I'm going to tell Dad," Taylor mumbled. "I mean, I could say you wer a new pet--"

"That would be somewhat acceptable."

"--But, um. You're a fox. People don't usually have foxes as pets."

"It's not unheard of."

"But you have to go to an exotic pet store to get a fox as a pet, right? I can't just say I found you out in the woods or something."

"Sure you can. You'd just have to make sure I got my shots. One very awkward vet visit, and it'll all be fine."

"I meant that I don't usually go to the woods," Taylor deadpanned. "My dad's going to be suspicious enough about the whole fox thing without me throwing on 'and I irresponsibly wandered out of the city' on top of it."

Lisa shrugged. "So you found me in a trash can."

"No, that's worse."

"I followed you home."

"That's..." Taylor snorted. "Really. 'She followed me home, can I keep her?' Lisa, come on."

"You could tell him the truth," Lisa offered.

"No."

"I could tell him the truth."

"No! He--he's already got... a lot going on." Taylor took a breath. "I can handle this. I can handle this. I just need to figure out what to say."

Lisa took in the expression of distress on the girl's face and rolled her eyes. "Okay. Tell me about him."

"What?"

"Your dad. Come on, he's got to be more than just some guy. Is he, like, a sports fan? A nerd? Oh, is he secretly Armsmaster?"

"My dad isn't Armsmaster," Taylor deadpanned.

"How do you know?" Lisa joked. "Capes keep secret identities all the time!"

Taylor snorted. "The timing really doesn't work out. And there's no way Dad would fit into that power armor. I guess he might, maybe, be Dauntless, but even that's a stretch."

"So what is his job, anyway?"

"He's the head of hiring for the Dockworker's Association."

Lisa's ears perked up. "Ooooo. That's a lot of soft power."

"What?"

"The only legal power a union has is in their contracts, so they don't have a lot of 'hard' power. But Brockton Bay is a port city, and 'dockworker' covers a lot of trades. Get enough people organized and you can drown out most corrupt politicians with a bevy of complaints. And your dad's the one that hires these people, so there's probably a lot of trust in him."

"That's... not how it works," Taylor objected. "I mean, he's... a guy. And it's not like we get a lot of port trade, with Levithan and the Boat Graveyard..."

"Sure, sure, the Dockworker's Association probably can't operate like it used to, but that just means it needs to adapt and rebrand." Lisa tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I know! This is a town with a lot of cape fights, right? That comes with a lot of collateral damage--broken windows and streets, that sort of thing. If the DWA starts offering quick-response repair services--"

"He's not actually in charge, you know," Taylor pointed out.

"Not yet, he's not, but he's really high up there--"

"He wouldn't be a good fit as a leader anyway. He's... not been himself. Ever since Mom died, he's..."

Taylor's voice drifted off for a moment.

"...None of this really matters, what matters is how I'm going to explain--"

"How about I just stay out of sight?" Lisa offered. "Whenever he's home, I'll just live in your closet or something."

"I--...guess that could work," Taylor allowed. "I mean, it seems kind of sketchy--me hiding you in a closet, and you... not really getting to do much when he's around."

"Just hook me up with a smartphone." Lisa glanced at her paws. "Or a laptop, now that I think about it. That's probably a better idea."

"I guess, but that's not going to work forever--"

"Hey. Hey, Taylor. Look at me. Look me in the eyes."

Taylor sighed, looking at Lisa.

"You've done enough for today. Trust me. Just getting me a place to stay--even if it's just for tonight--that's wonderful. We can figure out what we're going to do about... all this, as we go."

"But--"

"Up-bub-bup-bup! I am older than you, therefore I am the mature one."

"That's not--"

"And I say that we've got a handle on the situation right now. Okay? No need to freak out."

"But my dad--"

"Does he love you?"

Taylor cringed. "...yes."

Lisa's ear flicked at the strange undertones of that word. She tapped into her power briefly--

A broken love is still love, though it cannot provide the care needed.

--and flinched a bit.

"What?"

"Just--" Lisa thought quickly. "--I told you my parents are assholes, right?"

"Oh, sorry I--"

"What did I say about apologizing for things that aren't your fault?" She gave the girl a sad smile. "It's good to know there's still some decency in the world, is all."

"Oh. Uh..."

"The point," Lisa continued, "is that if your father loves you--and he does--he'll probably accept you no matter what. Well," she shrugged, "unless you do something really bad like kill a baby or something, and even that's not a guarantee. Hiding a vixen in your closet? Totally normal teenage rebellion. It'll be fine."

"...why did you specifically use the word vixen?"

"What?" Lisa fluttered her eyelids. "Am I not pretty enough for you?"

"That would work a lot better if you actually had eyelashes."

"Tell me I'm pretty."

"You're... pretty cuddly."

"Oof!" Lisa put a paw to her chest. "A hit! A dead hit!"

Taylor snorted. "In all seriousness, you're a little too canid for me right now."

"I used to be a hot blonde, you know."

"Yeah, so you say." The girl stood up. "I'm going to get some food ready. Toss the towels in the hamper when you're dry, kay?"

The fox saluted. "Righto, chief! You're the boss!"

"No need to be dramatic about it..."

Lisa watched Taylor hide a grin of her own, waiting until she was out of earshot, before her ears folded back. Her power had sounded... different somehow. More poetic, more... amused. Alive. What was up with that?

Understanding the incomprehensible is itself an art form.

"Yeah, this is going to be weird," she muttered dryly.

Chapter Text

Lisa emerged from her pile of blankets with a yawn, smacking her lips--

Hrm. That was odd. Her lips had never... oh, and her teeth were--

Oh, right, she was a fox now. She was a fox. That was--

Lisa's heart began to pound as the weight of the situation started to hit her all at once. Her claws sheathed and unsheathed as her breath started to speed up, tail lashing when she took a stumbling step forward--

"Mmm? Oh. Lisa..." Taylor looked blearily over at her. "Is something wrong?"

"Is something wrong, she says!" Lisa's voice quivered with humor and terror. "Is something wrong, she says to the fox, who doesn't have thumbs anymore, who can't even--"

"Oh geeze--" Taylor scrambled out of her bed, quickly kneeling beside her. "Lisa, I--I didn't mean to--" Her arms wrapped around the fox tightly. "I'm sorry!"

"You--Just--" Lisa tried to steady herself, fighting back tears. "--it's--" She leaned into the hug with a whimper, fighting to regain control of her breath as Taylor held her close.

It took a few minutes for her to come back under control, as she finally began to process everything that had happened just yesterday. Yesterday! All this had happened in a single day!

And now she was breaking down again... god, she was going to break down regularly, wasn't she?

"I—I'm okay now. I'm good. Just… just had to think about things, that's all. Had one of those 'oh it wasn't a dream' moments. I'm good, really."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I mean, I will be. I'm not dead, after all." Lisa tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm more worried about you."

"Me?"

"You did just spend, what, three minutes hugging a fox?" Lisa sniffed Taylor and leaned back playfully. "Your clothes reek, girl."

"...oh," Taylor murmured.

"Which says a lot more about me than you," Lisa quickly corrected. "Just--you know--might want to wash them. Right?"

"...right."

Lisa cringed as Taylor meandered out the door, quietly cursing both the girls who had inflicted such suffering on her and her own idiotic insensitivity. It was obvious, even without her power, that the girl had been beaten down so harshly that even her own teasing was a little too much. And with her power...

Those who survive the harshest storms grow the strongest scars.

...well, it was clear enough without her power. Seriously, what was going on with that? Was it a fox thing? Or a kitsune thing? Actually, if she was a kitsune... what exactly could she do?

"I'm going to need to do some research," Lisa grumbled to herself. "And hope this isn't one of those 'the reality got distorted over generations of retelling' situations." She frowned as she heard the shower turn on. "Also... gotta get Taylor a gift or something." If she was going to be her friend now, the first thing she'd need to do was help build her up.

The second thing would be to inflict the wrath of magical foxhood upon those who had brought her to such a standing, but that could wait until she knew what the wrath of magical foxhood entailed.

As soon as Taylor and her father were gone, Lisa made a quick round of the house before settling in at the home computer. It was old, clunky, and couldn't run many programs, but it had an internet connection, and she could look up old stories and myths on the various magical foxes of eastern mythology. She knew that there were chinese versions of the kitsune myth, but finding out that there were korean and vietnamese versions as well was a surprise--and finding out that even in japan there were different kinds of kitsune was also interesting, in its own way. Still, it was tangental to her research, and eventually she assembled a list of powers she was... semi-confident she might possibly have.

Shapeshifting, possession, conjuring fire and/or lightning, dream walking, flight, invisibility, and creating illusions so elaborate that they couldn't be distinguished from reality. If she had all those powers, Lisa knew, she'd probably be able to get anything she wanted.

If she had all those powers.

There were a couple of caveats that had come up during her research. The first, most obvious one was the fact she had only one tail, to the kitsune's mythological nine. Supposedly, kitsune's power increased as they grew more tails with age, which hypothetically meant she just had to wait a few centuries to get to that level. Lisa didn't think she wanted to wait nearly that long, especially since she really, really didn't want to live a regular fox life of hunting and trying to avoid being roadkill. Then there was the... other element, more obvious in the chinese and korean myths but not entirely absent in the japanese stories; the fox marble. Or golden elixir, or starball, depending on who was telling the tale. It was a collection of a kitsune's knowledge, the focal point of their power, deeply sought after in a lot of stories.

Something about that resonated with Lisa. Literally resonated, actually, there was a vibration in her chest when she read about it. If she didn't know any better--and frankly, she didn't, because this entire situation was new to her--she'd guess that her fox marble thingy was there. A suspicion that was only increased when she put a paw to her chest and extracted a sphere, faintly glowing with moonlight.

So, that was a thing.

But when she looked into how to increase its power... well, the kitsune stories weren't all that helpful, but the other fox stories gave a very clear and very worrying picture. The fox marble could absorb life force from humans--and it had to be humans, Lisa suspected, because of the whole 'knowledge' thing. Which was an ethical dilemma in and of itself; if she wanted to grow more tails and increase her power, she had to drain some life from people, people who might not deserve it. And even if they did deserve it, well, trying that would put her in danger.

"Hey Kaiser, you wanna hold this rock for a bit? I'mma gonna need it back after." Lisa snorted disdainfully. "Right, that'll go over well." If she was going to gain power this way, she needed to be clever--clever as a fox, even. And she needed a target that couldn't fight back--no, a target that didn't even know she was involved. Couldn't be Taylor, she wasn't stupid and she didn't deserve any lifedraining...

Ah.

Lisa giggled. She chortled. She cackled like a maniac. The plan came together with ease, coalescing gloriously in her head.

Those who act without thought cannot predict consequences.

"Okay, fair, but--BUT! It is sooooo deliciously ironic." Lisa shut off the computer and ran for the basement. "String. I need string..."

Chapter Text

"Hey Taylor," Lisa asked casually, "is Emma the type of girl who wears necklaces?"

"...sometimes, yeah."

"Okay, and is she the type of girl who would wear a necklace she, say, took from somebody else?"

Taylor looked up from her journal, giving the fox a suspicious look. "What are you planning...?"

"Me?" Lisa put a paw to her chest. "Planning something? My dear Taylor, do I look like the kind of person that would plan things?"

"You look like a fox."

"Yes, exactly. I was turned into a fox on a whim. I didn't plan this at all. Ergo, I must be terrible at planning."

Lisa smirked innocently, a paradoxical expression that only a woman of her caliber could ever hope to master, and one further enhanced by her vulpine features. Taylor, in turn, narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out the natural endpoint of the line of questioning, and all the possible consequences therein.

"Are you trying to put a curse on her or something?"

"What? Noooooo! Why would you ever think that?"

"Cause you got turned into a fox by some weird magic," Taylor deadpanned. "I looked into fox folklore, you know. Just in case there was something I was missing. They're pretty universally trickster spirits, and curses are common fairy tale tropes. So, logically, if you're a magical fox, you should be able to curse somebody."

"Ah, but I was the one transformed," Lisa countered. "Ergo, it could be argued that I was the one cursed--or blessed!" she added quickly, glancing nervously around the room.

"...Or blessed?"

"You know, I'm pretty sure whatever did this to me sees this as a blessing and I don't want to tick it off."

An 'Ah' of understanding escaped Taylor's lips as she nodded.

"...my point is, I am the one affected by this magical alteration," Lisa continued. "So what gives you the impression that I could levy any sort of similar effect on Emma?"

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Just because you're under a spell doesn't mean you can't cast spells yourself."

"How do you know that? Magic is a mysterious and poorly understood thing, even in this modern age."

"Oh?" Taylor tilted her head. "So you weren't planning on giving me a necklace explicitly so Emma would steal it?"

Lisa hummed noncomittally, waggling a paw. "Not planning, no. I was... exploring angles of opportunity, that's all."

"'Exploring angles of opportunity--'" Taylor groaned. "Lisa, Emma is a fourteen-year-old girl. Sure, I hate her, but I don't think she deserves to be cursed!"

"But you do hate her, though," Lisa pressed.

Taylor hesitated, frowning contemplatively. "...I... don't know," she admitted after a moment. "I mean, hate... is a pretty strong word. We were practically sisters for the longest time, and... sure, she changed, but I still don't know why. Or if there's anything that can... that can bring her back." She shook her head. "In any case, leveraging magic or parahuman powers or whatever for petty vengeance on a high school girl seems like a ridiculous level of overkill."

"You don't even know what I'm planning to do!" Lisa countered.

"Well then," Taylor asked pointedly, "what are you planning to do?"

Lisa tilted her head innocently. "Oh, I just thought I'd show Emma my appreciation. After all, if it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have become such fast friends, would we?"

Taylor gave her a flat look. "We've known each other for three days."

"But they've been such deep and meaningful days! We've learned so much about each other!"

"Yes, that's true. I've learned you like to dodge questions and refuse to answer them." Taylor leaned forward. "I'm serious about this, Lisa. You're... my first friend in a while. I don't want to think you're a bad person. And I certainly don't want to learn you've ruined the life of an admittedly not-so-innocent little girl just because you could. So tell me what it is you're planning, exactly, or I'll have to call the PRT."

Lisa's ears folded back, the strictness in Taylor's tone actually making her reconsider. "...I was planning to drain some of her life force," she mumbled.

"What?"

"It's... a thing. I have an orb, I'm pretty sure it's how I get Kitsune magic, and I'm certain that I can... charge it. With life force. From people."

Taylor rubbed her temples. "Lisa..."

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't kill her!" the fox quickly assured her. "I'm only going to skim a bit off the top--"

"Lisa, this is literally vampirism." Taylor shook her head. "Can't you drain some rats or something?"

"I'm... pretty sure it has to be humans," Lisa replied awkwardly. "Kitsune magic seems tied to the concept of knowledge, in a way, the manipulation of it for various effects, and... humans aren't the only species that has advanced cognition, but we're the only ones that have enough lifespan to build up a mental library. Thing." She awkwardly rubbed a paw down her foreleg, not quite looking at Taylor. "And, well... Emma did hurt you. I just thought..."

She trailed off.

"...there's no other way for you to charge your orb?"

"I mean, if you believe the stories I'll gain a new power every hundred years or so," Lisa offered. "This is... this speeds up the process, is all."

Taylor rapped her fingers on the desk, thinking things over. "...I would suggest maybe going for one of the villains, but..."

"But the villains are dangerous, and I don't get involved in cape stuff."

"Yeah. That." Taylor leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. "...do you even know what the side effects would be?"

Lisa frowned, tapping into her power--

The metric by which a life is measured is bound to the values the one living it has.

--and sighing with exasperation. "No. No, I don't know what the side effects would be."

"Well, that's a good reason not to do it. I mean, if you wind up killing somebody with that power, then--"

"Did you know Parahumans actually have a compulsion to use their powers?"

Taylor gave Lisa a flat look. "You're not a parahuman."

"I used to be," Lisa shot back. "And the thing is, I couldn't not use my power. I tried once, you know? Fought the urge. Clamped down hard. Lasted all of three days, and by the end of it I felt like I'd been awake for a month."

"But you're not a parahuman anymore," Taylor repeated. "You're a fox. Maybe a kitsune."

Lisa smirked. "I could be a parakitsune."

"You--!" Taylor objected, before realizing she couldn't actually object. "Mmmngh."

"....ssssooooooo...?"

"...Not Emma," Taylor insisted. "She's... no. Not Emma."

"Not Emma," Lisa agreed, tilting her head. "Buuuuuuuuuut....?"

Taylor stared at her for a long moment, before sagging in her seat. "...I can find out where Sophia lives," she mumbled.

"Oh, of course, that makes sense," Lisa agreed with a nod. "And I promise I'll try my hardest to make sure she comes out unharmed."

"Mrmph."

"And... I'll talk to you about everything I do with this," Lisa added. "Make sure I'm not sneaking out to eat the life force of innocent young girls."

Taylor looked up at her with tired, but amused, eyes. "Just the guilty ones?"

"It's a bigger platter then you'd think," Lisa confided.

"You're terrible."

Lisa flicked her tail. "I prefer foxy."

Chapter Text

The feeling of the night air on Lisa's fur was, in a way, liberating.

Her sudden transformation had sent her into a freefall, and for the past few days she'd been scrambling to get what she needed to survive, to find an understanding of her situation. But now, for the first time in a few days, she was acting of her own accord, to accomplish her own goals.

Granted, said goals involved sucking the life force out of a teenage girl. But hey, that was typical urban fantasy stuff, right? She didn't need to feel weirded out about that at all.

As she approached the address of one of her new friends' tormenters, she slowed to a crawl, taking in the full shape of the old Brockton Bay house. It wasn't all that different from any other house in the vicinity, though it was different enough that Lisa would ordinarily tap into her power for a few seconds to figure out the internal floorplan. But, well...

A predator's den may hold innocent prey for numerous reasons.

...yeah. Alright, if she was to guess, that meant that Sophia's family weren't bad people. Which, honestly, made sense--bad people needed safe places to retreat to so they weren't hunted down for being bad. But it also meant that her power didn't give her a single clue as to how to get into the building. Still, all Lisa needed to do was sneak in through an exposed window or door, find Sophia's room, and use her fox orb to drain her while the girl was sleeping. It was a simple plan, one that could be adjusted on the fly depending on what she found inside. And also depending on actually getting inside. Her small size gave her some advantages, but her lack of thumbs was still a detriment.

She was circling the house for a second time when her ear flicked at a sudden jolting noise. Hastily dodging behind a bush, Lisa kept her eyes on the offending window, which had opened and allowed a figure in a cloak to emerge. She watched as the small figure jumped, drifting toward the ground in a ghostly form before suddenly returning to solidity half an inch above the grass.

Well, that certainly complicated things. If Sophia was related to a cape--or, hell, if she actually was a cape--Lisa would have to plan her approach much more carefully. Especially if she was part of a group--there were plenty of smaller teams that clustered together for survival between the reach of the Protectorate and the gangs. Or she could be one of the independents who rose and died every damn month. Although the way the cape was already striding out of the yard--confident, but still aware--suggested a greater degree of experience than one of the many parahumans who added their number to the statistics on a daily basis.

That alone was interesting. And Lisa had always been the curious sort, even before becoming a magical trickster.

Walking on padded feet, Lisa snuck after the mysterious figure, trying to recollect her knowledge of Brockton Bay's actors and put a name to the power. She couldn't be an Empire member--Sophia and her family were black, and that presented a nigh-impossible obstacle to that option. Unless there was some very specific cult conditioning and a rule about constantly wearing a mask. Which, Lisa supposed, was technically within the realm of possibility, in the same way a freak weather accident could maybe kill the Slaughterhouse Nine. A similar, though much lesser, problem existed with the idea of Sophia or her family members serving with the ABB. And, for all that Taylor had vented about the girl, she had not once said anything that implied she partook of substances...

Not that the parahuman Lisa was following had any scent of drugs, so there was the Merchants out. Score one for fox senses!

Her fox senses also told her that this cape was a teenage girl, which instantly kicked her out of the Protectorate (too young to be any of those heroes) and the Wards (too old to be Vista, and too female to be any of the others). So this was either a criminal or a vigilante. But which one? She'd have to run through an internet search to be sure, once she got back to Taylor's place. Unless, of course, the cape was dramatic enough to state her own name during her escapades.

The strange cape was taking advantage of their power to dart and weave around the streets, and if Lisa had wanted to keep up she would have been hard-pressed to follow. But her discovery of scent tracking made it more than possible to just... follow the trail, at a decently leisurely pace. And if the cape had spotted her, so what? At this distance, she looked like a stray dog. Probably, anyway. In any case, the cape made frequent enough pauses--probably checking to make sure she wasn't being followed or hadn't been spotted--for Lisa to saunter closer at a casual pace.

Her efforts were eventually rewarded when the cape descended into another backyard, this one belonging to a much nicer house and having another girl already waiting for her. Lisa couldn't help quirking an eyebrow when she realized that the girl exactly resembled Taylor's description of one Emma Barnes. Well, aside from the bat.

"Hey survivor," said the cape, who practically had to be Sophia at this point. "Ready to go hunting?"

Emma grinned savagely. "Let's clean these streets."

Wait, was Emma a cape too?

The illusion of power is a comfort to the powerless.

...so, no then. Emma wasn't a cape, she just hung around one for... reasons. Which just made this entire situation that much more complicated.

Although...

Lisa cocked her head as she watched the girls slink out of the backyard. There was an opportunity here, to undermine Sophia Hess and Emma Barnes. A plan began to crystalize in Lisa's mind as she slunk away, quietly making her way back to the Hess household. There was still a space to canvas, and preparations to make, but already she could sense the beginnings of a proper scheme. A bit of equipment would be needed, and careful timing as well, but if everything worked out, well...

Her vulpine grin glowed in the moonlight.

...Sophia Hess would find a most deserving comeuppance indeed.

Chapter Text

"Why do you want me to buy a spy camera?"

"Because unless there's a store in town that serves animals, I can't buy it myself."

Taylor pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, I mean... why do you want a spy camera in the first place?"

"To record people without their knowledge."

"Lisa, just because kitsunes are mythologically known as tricksters doesn't mean I have to put up with doublespeak. I can kick you out, you know."

Lisa grinned. "But you won't, cause you love me."

Taylor crossed her arms. "I'd have to, if I'm putting up with this level of sass. Seriously, what are the cameras for?"

"Okay fiiiiiiiiiiine," Lisa drawled, "you've dragged it out of me. You ever hear of a vigilante called Shadow Stalker?"

"...Not really? I mean, I don't pay attention to the cape scene."

"Yeah that's gonna need to change. Cause it turns out Shadow Stalker's been a very naughty girl. Unnecessary brutality in confronting suspects, bringing along an unpowered teenager on her hunts, oh, and apparently in her civilian identity she's been bullying a girl and stealing her stuff."

Taylor blinked a bit, reeling back once the realization hit her. "...EMMA BARNES is SHADOW STALKER?!"

Lisa's ears folded in disappointment. "No. Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker."

"Oh. That... actually, yeah, that makes way more sense."

"But she has been taking Emma out on nightly violent walks."

Taylor threw up her hands. "Of course she has. Well that explains everything, Emma used to be a sweet and harmless girl but then she joined some sort of violence cult."

"I don't think a cult can consist of just two people..."

"Oh believe me, it absolutely can." The girl flopped onto her bed heavily. "Great. Fine. So they're doing this horrible stuff. And you want the camera to record them in the act."

"Mmmyep. Then I send the recordings straight to the PRT, and they bring the hammer down on Hess and Barnes. Or, hmm, maybe I send it to Carol Dallon," Lisa mused, "the PRT might just want to recruit Hess and sweep her actions under the rug, but Carol Dallon would absolutely pursue justice. Actually, I could send it to both with a note saying I'll release it to the public in a set amount of time if they don't do something."

"I... think that last bit might be taking it too far?" Taylor suggested hesitantly. "I mean sure, getting Sophia and Emma arrested would be a good thing, but unmasking them... I think that New Wave had a member die in a home invasion when that happened. And as much as I hate Emma, I don't want her family to suffer for it. Or, uh, Sophia's either, I guess."

Lisa examined her claws idly. "You know, this would all be a whole lot easier if you didn't let your pesky morals get in the way."

"Those pesky morals are the reason I let you come home with me."

"Touche, Taylor. Touche." Lisa sighed. "Alright, I'll skip the public reveal. But I'm still going to need you to buy the spy camera."

"I don't even know where to buy a spy camera!" Taylor protested.

"Well fortunately, I do. And," Lisa added before Taylor could add anything, "I do have a card with which you can pay for said purchase!"

"You do?"

"I do. It's in my wallet. Which is one of the few things I still have." Lisa cocked her head. "Although now that I think about it, that card's probably being monitored by whoever sent those mercs after me. So you'd probably want to go to an ATM first, withdraw all the cash, then get it back here. Also, you'll want to toss the card after you get the cash, since the banks will be watching after that. Oh, and they'll probably cancel all my other cards on the assumption that I've been mugged and/or killed, so it might just be better to drain them all."

Taylor stared at her, aghast. "That... that sounds incredibly stupid and dangerous."

"What? No! You get a bunch of money and if you do it right you stay off anybody's radar!"

"If I do it right. That's the sticking point." Taylor sighed, shaking her head. "You know what, I'm just going to use my own money to buy you a basic bodycam and a collar."

"That--...yeah, that would probably be more efficient," Lisa admitted. "Maybe we can get the spy camera later."

"Why would you need a spy camera if your bodycam did the same thing?"

"Because it's a spyyyyyyyy caaaamera!" Lisa whined melodramatically, rolling over on her back. "Do you know how cool a spyyyyyyyyyyyy caaaamera is, Taylor?"

Taylor shook her head, trying to hide the twitching corner of her lips. "Cool doesn't always mean functional, Lisa. Or effective."

"Well, yeah, but spyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaameraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas have to work. Because they're spyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy--"

"Yes, I get it, thank you." Taylor rubbed her temples. "Listen, if I'm getting you this collar, and the bodycam as well, it's gonna need to fit you. Which... probably means we need to take you to the pet store. Or a vet."

"Ooo," Lisa winced, "nnnnnot a good idea. I think it's actually illegal to own a fox in this state."

"...But you suggested telling my dad--"

"Yeah, that was before I learned it was illegal to own a fox. Looked it up online while you were at school." Lisa rolled to her paws with a shrug. "Just get me a medium-sized dog collar."

"Without a dog? People will ask questions!"

Lisa gave her the most unimpressed stare her foxy face could muster up. "It's a dog collar, Taylor. Not drugs. Not guns. A dog collar. Nobody will give you a second glance. You're more likely to be questioned about the body cam, and even that isn't unusual in a city like this!"

"But--"

"Look, you were telling me I was overthinking things with my card and ATM scheme, so now I'm telling you that you're overcomplicating things here."

"...I'm just kind of worried," Taylor admitted. "I mean, this is the first time I'm even... thinking of doing something like this. And there's so much that could go wrong."

"Not really. It's a basic plan. I follow the terrible duo, film them doing something horribly illegal, then send it to the cops anonymously and let justice take the wheel." Lisa half-hopped up, managing to put her paws on Taylor's shoulder. "It'll all be fine. Trust me. All I need is a couple of things, and then the two biggest problems in your life will be handled, I promise."

"...Alright." Taylor took a deep breath. "Alright. I'm trusting you."

"Good."

"And I'm also getting you some sort of doggy breath mints from the pet store. Because your breath stinks."

"Hey!" Lisa pushed off, curling on the bed in mock offense. "Don't judge me! Do you know how hard it is to brush your teeth without thumbs?"

Chapter Text

Figuring out how to turn the camera around her neck on and off was an effort of a quarter of an hour, but Lisa eventually managed to figure out how to press the power button with one of her claws while holding the thing between her forepaws. Was it an awkward position? Yes. But after a few tries, she'd gotten the motions down to a science, just in time to sneak out and run her way over to Emma's house.

She was growing more nocturnal by the day. Was that a fox thing? Or a kitsune thing? Or was she just adjusting to her wild situation with an equally wild sleeping schedule? Well, Lisa thought, she wasn't feeling exhausted at random points in the day, so she was probably fine. Maybe fine. Not definitively fine, but fine enough. And anyway, she had a criminal to catch, and a wallet to return. Hopefully before Taylor remembered she had burned her wallet to turn into a fox in the first place...

Sneaking into the Barnes house was an exercise in stealth, cunning, and wondering why they had a dog door if they didn't own a dog. Sure, it only led to the backyard, but still--any wild animal with a decent knowledge of locks could slip in. It could be a super-powered fox, or an ordinary racoon, or just a particularly mischievous crow. Heck, a squirrel could get lucky!

Maybe it was a holdover from a previous owner of the house...

Well, whatever, Emma's wallet was safely returned to the breadbox, where her mother would find it and, most likely, assume that Emma had just misplaced it. Why would a thief return a wallet, after all? No, the house would accept the most likely explanation, despite Emma's fervent denials.

Although Lisa was tempted to keep the credit card...

...nah, best if it remained where it was.

Sneaking back outside, Lisa considered the now open lock on the doggy door for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders. Even if the Barnes called it in, how would they suspect her? Most likely they'd blame a racoon. Which was... a little upsetting, she did want to be recognized, but there would be plenty of time to impress Taylor with her skills.

For the moment, all she had to do was wait patiently... and ah, there she was, Shadow Stalker in the ghostly flesh. With a few seconds of struggle, Lisa turned her camera on, waiting patiently for the next part. And she didn't have to wait too long, spotting the pair coming out the back door; Emma Barnes had even waited to cover her own face until she was out of the house, leaving her visage perfectly visible to the camera. Could she ask for a better intro?

"So who are we going to be breaking down tonight?" Emma growled, her fingers curling around a crowbar in anticipation.

Oh. Oh she could. And the fates (and teenage stupidity) would answer her eagerly.

Lisa made sure to keep absolutely still, training the camera on the pair even as Shadow Stalker visibly scoffed. "Depends on if the intel I've got is accurate. Empire goons. Low-level, Kaiser won't miss 'em, but at least they won't be hurting anybody else once we're done with them."

"Perfect." Emma's grin was predatory and smug, like a kitten sneaking up far too confidently on a bird that knew full well it could fly away at any time. "Let's go dispense some justice."

"Easy there, survivor." Shadow Stalker sounded amused, despite her admonishment. "We still have a long walk ahead of us."

Lisa made sure to follow them as stealthily as possible, making sure to capture every aspect of their comedy routine on her camera. Tracking them as they avoided the streetlights, sprinted across crosswalks, huddled into alleyways whenever a figure started walking toward them... the two girls were taking themselves so seriously, as though they alone stood between the darkness and the safety of the world. Hell, maybe they actually believed it, which was just... sad, really, if it came to that.

Still, they were headed for Empire territory. Which Lisa didn't object to in the abstract, but realistically... two teenage girls against gangbangers? Even with one of them being a cape, it was not going to go nearly as well as they thought. She might even have to--a shudder went down her spine--intervene.

Well, no, Lisa didn't absolutely have to intervene, but Taylor would be disappointed if she let... um... relatively less criminal individuals die when she could have prevented it. Although realistically she couldn't do much more than scratch and bite. Granted, that was probably more than what Emma could do, because she actually have canines and claws, but foxes weren't built to take on big creatures like humans. Maybe, if the two girls got into trouble, Lisa could let it happen and explain to Taylor later that she actually couldn't do anything. But then Taylor would be upset...

Damn that girl and her pesky morals, she was getting infected just by thinking about her!

"It's just around this corner," Shadow Stalker whispered, her voice too quiet for human ears. "Some punk wants to buy drugs, but doesn't trust the other gangs to not cut it with something actually dangerous. The Empire, though, they're 'honorable.'" Her tone more than conveyed exactly how little she thought of that idea.

Emma's grip tightened. "So our buyer's coming in to get some crack, and then we'll crack the skulls of whoever's selling."

"Not skulls," Shadow Stalker corrected. "Arms, legs, maybe a rib or two. Getting smashed up is enough to get them off the streets, but getting them killed would put the Empire and the cops on high alert. We wouldn't be able to clean the streets until they cooled down again."

"Ugh. Why do the copes have to be so fucking incompetent?" Emma complained, unwittingly echoing Lisa's own thoughts. "Here we are, doing their job for them, and we have to keep a low profile because they can't stand anybody muscling in on their turf."

"Welcome to life on the wrong side of the tracks." Shadow Stalker stiffened. "Alright, somebody's coming. Stay back and get ready."

Lisa backed up herself as the two girls watched a scraggly-looking man approach a door, knocking on it in a specific pattern. The door opened to reveal the most blatantly stereotypical skinhead imaginable, a burly bald man with nazi tatoos all up his arms. There was a whispered conversation, a pair of dark baggies were exchanged, examined, and the door shut again.

"Right." Shadow Stalker turned to Emma. "You ready?"

Emma crouched in preperation. "Let's do this."

Lisa grinned to herself. Everything was going perfectly. There was no way this could go wrong.

Chapter Text

Why, Lisa wondered to herself, was a drug deal happening at night? Sure, most people, including cops, were sleeping, so it was that much less likely for the criminals to get caught. But this wasn't, like, moving huge boxes of cocaine around. This was a little baggie of the white powder, easily slipped into a pocket. There were plenty of discrete places for that sort of exchange in broad daylight, what kind of moron would risk their lives in the criminal hellscape of Brockton Bay's night just for a quick high?

Well, the kind of morons that Emma and Sophia were beating up, apparently.

Alright, it was more Sophia doing the beating, but Emma, despite her clear lack of skill, was certainly... enthusiastic. A little too enthusiastic, honestly, the girl was really getting into the whole situation. It was... a little odd to realize that the cape was actually acting more restrained, even taking time to cool the girl down when she went a little too far.

Taylor would probably not appreciate seeing this footage. For a moment, Lisa seriously considered not showing it to her at all.

Then she realized that Taylor would probably be upset that the girl-turned-fox was hiding things from her, and decided to just grab some donuts or other sweets on the way home instead.

Hmm... Donut heist. How would that work with paws? It wasn't like most bakeries had convenient doggy doors...

Oh, the beatings were done! Great, Lisa thought to herself, she was getting tired of just sitting in one place. And the girls were sneaking back out of the alleyway and heading... not home, interestingly. Had Sophia found out about some more lightly armed empire thugs she could introduce Emma's crowbar to? Did Emma not want date night with her dark heroine to end?

...actually, was this some sort of weird dating thing for them?

Affection can bind together souls in many ways, no matter the taint upon it.

And her power was on the fritz again. Great. Wonderful.

Whatever, Lisa decided, she had a pair of wildly irresponsible teenage girls to stalk through the night, creepily filming their every move from an unseen angle. FOR JUSTICE. Or at least for petty vengeance, which was honestly quite a lot better than the motivations of most people who stalked wildly irresponsible teenage girls and filmed them creepily.

With that chipper thought in her mind, the girl turned fox tracked the two girls to another hit, where another pair of nazi druggies were beaten. And then another. And then, just to shake things up, Sophia turned to Emma and told her to keep watch while she went into a Nazi Storehouse to burn some drugs or something. Which didn't strike Lisa as a safe or legal method of disposal, but what did she know? She was only a highly educated thinker-turned-kitsune with a vested interest in navigating the complex mess of the American legal system, maybe Shadow Stalker was secretly a highly trained agent of the government...

...yeah, right.

For a moment, Lisa seriously considered following Sophia into the building, before realizing that the nazis would probably just as quickly shoot a fox as a black girl. Quicker, even, they'd at least make plans on how to dispose of Sophia's body quietly, but nobody would really care if they found a fox corpse. No, Lisa decided, she'd stay out here and keep filming Emma on overwatch. Most likely nothing would happen, but at least it would be more footage for the inevitable Shadow Stalker scandal. And the way Emma was trying to stoically peer around the darkened street while clutching her crowbar tightly, was downright hilarious.

Oh, she was reacting to something! What had she spotted? Lisa carefully shifted so she could catch the target on camera--

"Shit," she muttered quietly.

That was Hookwolf. That was FUCKING HOOKWOLF and a bunch of his goons. What the fuck was Hookwolf doing out here?! And would Emma be able to survive--? Well, no, obviously not, Emma would die if Hookwolf spotted her, but at least she was out of sight for now....

Wait, why did Lisa care? Emma was a bitch!

Oh, right. She was Taylor's bitch. And Taylor, damn her bleeding heart, would be upset if anything happened to Emma...

Which left Lisa with the uncomfortable realization that she had to keep the attention of the nazi murderblender off the street corner that the bitch was now cowering behind. Something far easier said then done, for a brilliant teenager turned into a cunning fox. Now would be the perfect time for her to discover how to use her mysterious kitsune powers!

...Any second now!

Any second...

"Fuck it," Lisa muttered to herself.

She quickly darted across the road and knocked over a convenient trashcan. The loud clang and clatter of the trashcan caught Hookwolf's attention, who sent one of his goons to investigate--because of course the Big Bad Cape wouldn't lower himself to checking on every random noise from every small alleyway, obviously--but at least his thugs weren't looking at Emma, who was quickly sending a text on her phone, most likely to alert Sophia of the incoming cape and his posse of gun-toting hooligans. Although there was still a risk of them spotting her if she left her hiding spot, which would lead to a lot of pain on her part, and a lot of guilt on Taylor's.

Why did Lisa do these things to herself? She could leave. She could have already left, even, but nooooo, she had to play the hero, and for what? Some depressed teenager that let her live in her house? What was even the point?

What the self lacks, it seeks out in others, even to the detriment of the self.

Oh shut up, power, now was not the time.

"Doesn't look like anybody's here," the guy checking out the trash can said, waving a flashlight around the area. "Must have been--"

He was turning toward Emma's hiding spot, and for some goddamned reason Lisa knew that would be a bad thing, so she darted out and practically pounced on the guy. It didn't do nearly as much as she would have wanted--the man stumbled back a bit, and at least he dropped his gun--but it was enough to drag all attention onto her.

Wait.

Hookwolf's attention, as well as a bunch of nazi goons, was focused right on her.

What the fuck had she even been thinking this was a stupid plan she should have just darted between the guy's legs--!!

"WHOA!" The guy had the presence of mind to grab her, and enough experience to wrangle her canid form into a tight grip. "What the fuck, it's a freakin' dog!"

"That's a fox," Hookwolf deadpanned.

"A what?"

"A fox."

The man gripping Lisa far too tightly to be comfortable gave Hookwolf a weird look. "Foxes are mythical animals," he said. "They're not real."

Lisa, for once in her life, felt herself feeling an odd sense of kinship with a serial killer, as his body language communicated the same sheer disbelief she herself was feeling.

"Still," the man continued, oblivious to his boss's rapidly dwindling respect for his intelligence, "this one's got spunk. You think he'd do good in the ring?"

Oh no.

"Fuck it, sure," Hookwolf decided with visible exasperation. "But you've got to secure him."

Lisa did not swear out loud, since that would lead to a bunch of nazis trying to kill her. She did, however, start construction of a most vile oath in her mind, even as she struggled futilely in the man's grasp.

Chapter Text

In theory, Lisa could have broken herself free from the grip of the idiot with a few careful bites and a bit of twisting. Of course, then she'd have to deal with the rest of Hookwolf's goons, who had guns, and Hookwolf, who was Hookwolf. And while she was clever, she was not, in fact, a fighter. So, instead, she decided to wait to make her move, planning to break free of whatever cage the morons threw her in. After all, dogs weren't smart enough to break out of their cages, while she--having a little more flexibility and a lot more intelligence--could just wait until there was a big enough break in the guard patrols and bust out!

Of course, she'd been basing her mental image on cages she'd seen in veterinary stores. Cages, she now realized, that were designed to be livable for the dogs within. Cages that, frankly, had room to maneuver.

The metal crate she'd been stuffed into was probably designed for a cat, which left her with very little room to breathe, let alone maneuver. If she were the beast these guys thought she was, she'd probably be whimpering and panicking at such an impossible situation. She did let out a few squeaks, actually, but only to convince them that she was in fact a dumb animal.

Inwardly, though, she'd upgraded her plans from 'escaping' to 'robbing the place blind on her way out', and was seriously considering freeing a few of the more feral looking dogs as well.

Lisa began carefully investigating the grating she could get at with her paws, looking for something loose. A hinge, perhaps. Or a latch. Something. She found it, out of the corner of her eye-- something that would be easy to manipulate with fingers, but impossible for a dog handle, and still rather difficult for a compressed fox. But it was better than nothing, and as soon as she was left alone she started shifting, trying to get a paw close enough that she could push it through the bars and...

...just...

...come on, it was right there, she could just--

A loud not-quite-explosion made Lisa yip in shock, and she twisted her ears trying to figure out what was happening. There was yelling. There were gunshots. There was... growling? An awfully loud growling sound, actually, more like something she'd expect from a bear.

Or... three bears.

Also some girl shouting commands.

"Okay, time to go." Lisa turned her attention back to the lock. "Come on, come on, if I just..."

The growling and the gunshots increased in intensity, the not-nearly-distant-enough battle clearly ramping up. From what she could hear, the nazis were losing, and Goldilocks and her three bears were winning. Which was not a bad thing, per say, but she didn't know if the bears made their porridge out of dog meat, and she didn't want to find out.

"Come on, come on, come on--yes! And we just--no, no no no--"

The sounds of the fighting abruptly stopped. All that was left was a few strange snuffles... and Goldilocks' commands, cool and confident. Thick padding footsteps came closer. Closer. Closer...

Lisa froze as the door swung open, slowly taking in the relatively large figures stepping through. Godilocks was, apparently, a punk dog girl and a redhead. And her three bears weren't bears at all, but some sort of weird canine dinosaur hybrid that sniffed curiously at the cages around them. The girl moved with intent, stepping up to one of the cages, looking at the dog within... and opening it.

Wait, what?

Lisa stared as the girl walked confidently from cage to cage, opening them one by one. Sometimes she'd pause, growl at a dog for a bit until it backed down, but she always opened them. She examined every dog she freed with expert hands, quickly and efficiently. Her dragon-dog things stayed on the edges of the scene, growling briefly whenever a freed pup tried to break from the growing huddle, but not doing anything else. Before long, she was at Lisa's cage and opening, carefully extracting her from the confines and running her over.

She paused, looking Lisa over again. And again. Then she pulled back her dog mask, revealing a butch face with a concerned expression. "This isn't a dog."

Lisa opted not to speak, simply leveling the most deadpan look she could. She reached out to her glitchy power, hoping to find the girl's deal.

Those who care the most suffer the worst. Those who trust the hardest love the most deeply.

Yeah that was about as useful as anything. Why should she have expected anything different?

"...don't know if the shelter will take in a fox..." the girl mumbled to herself. "Whatever. I'll ask when I get there, and if they don't..." She shook her head, turning to the rest of the cages.

Lisa was left to hang out with a bunch of traumatized, injured dogs. Some of them--a lot of them, really--were starting to perk up, as though realizing that the nightmare was coming to a close. There were a few that snapped angrily at each other, but the deep growl of the girl's own bear-dog-dragon things would break up any fights before they happened. The sounds and the chaos made it easy for Lisa to crouch low to the ground, slipping toward the edge of the crowd.

A sharp whistle made her glance at the girl, who had just opened the last cage. Her dragon hounds moved forward with practiced confidence, sheperding the hoard of dogs toward the door. Lisa found herself caught up in the wave of fur, unable to do anything but move along with it for the moment; she kept her eyes open as the mass of canine forms left the room, briefly noticing the unmoving bodies of the guards in what was probably the dogfighting ring--

--and then they were out, and the girl had opened up the back of a truck. One of her dragon dogs hopped in, the axle squeaking slightly as it sank, while the other two made a funnel with their bodies. Lisa noticed how the girl was watching the crowd, nodding with every dog that entered the back, how her dragon dogs were lifting the others with nudges of their muzzles and paws.

Alright. So. Truck. Dogs. She did not want to anger the dogs, and she did NOT want to get in the truck. Tonight had been bad enough as it was...

Lisa slunk carefully toward the back of the hoard, letting other canines past, until at last she was the only one not in the truck.

The girl looked at her for a moment, then at her dragon dogs.

Lisa carefully sat down, staring the girl directly in the eyes.

"...Fuck it," she muttered, shaking her head. "Fine, whatever."

She whistled once more, and the other dragon dogs hopped in the truck. With one last glance at Lisa, the girl jumped into the front of the vehicle and drove off.

Lisa let out a deep sigh. "Well, that was lucky," she muttered to herself. She stood up, looking down the road. "Should probably find my way back to Taylor's... although..."

Her eyes turned back to the abandoned dogfighting ring.

"...I think I deserve to treat myself after all that."