Chapter Text
The garage was on the south side of Goldcliff, far from the stunning views of sheer drops and waterfalls. A few blocks further out, the city streets started to give way to vast stretches of scrub and dirt. This place rested on the blurry line between something and nothing, an area that didn't quite fit any descriptors that were applied to it. There was nothing to see, and that made it the perfect place to do something without prying eyes keeping watch.
The lawn outside of the garage was something of a junkyard, broken old wagon parts stacked up in crumbling towers among the weeds. Some of the debris looked new and shiny, while other parts were rusted and crumbling. Hurley wound her way cautiously through the maze of dented hubcaps and worn-down tires. She was there on a tip off- another racer had offered to give up her location in return for having to spend less time in jail after trying to steal a militia weapons shipment. She could only hope that the man was telling the truth, and that she wasn’t about to step into a room full of traps, or worse, another dead end. She had been tracking the Raven for weeks now with no luck. It was getting to the point that others in the militia were telling her that she should just give up and use her talents elsewhere. But Hurley wasn’t one to give up, especially on things that frustrated her.
The building at the center of the chaos wasn't an impressive setup, like what she had seen when she scoped out the Hammerhead’s base (so she was more than a little interested in battle wagons, sue her). It’s low to the ground, with few windows, and one large door that was wide open. Inside, Hurley could see a relatively small jet-black wagon up on a lift. Below that, she could see what she assumed was someone lying on their back. A pair of big black work boots on the end of a pair of skinny legs that disappeared under the wagon. With any luck, this was the person that she was looking for.
“Excuse me.” Before Hurley could say anything else, she heard a loud thump, followed seconds later by the person under the wagon shouting “fuck!” The figure scooted out from under the car and sat up. The tan of her skin did little to hide the bright red mark on her forehead, or the pink flush at the tips of her ears.
“Sorry, you surprised me there.” The woman stood, rising to look down on Hurley from above and twitching her ears in curiosity. Young adult half-elf, slim build, medium height, tan skin, and long black hair. Everything seemed to fit the description she was given.
“Are you the Raven?” The words came out rushed, and Hurley cursed herself for not being more subtle.
“Yeah,” the woman quirked an eyebrow and her ears perked up in curiosity, “are you a fan? I think I would have remembered seeing a pretty face like yours before.”
“I-” Hurley stuttered “I guess you could say that. I saw you at the bank on the corner of Rose and 25th last Friday.” It was a lie, but a plausible one. The bank had been packed when the Raven wound in and around the lines of people, grabbing more than a dozen wallets before strolling out the front door. She was long gone by the time someone noticed the theft.
“Oh shit, I didn’t pick your pocket, did I?” The Raven's tone seemed almost embarrassed.
“No, no. I just saw you hit your last few targets, and then I was there for the aftermath.”
“Oh man, I wish I could have seen their faces,” the Raven laughed, “I only target people who look like they have money to spare, but rich people get so pissy about losing money. It’s like they forget that they make more money in a month than I’ll see in my whole life.”
“What did you spend the loot on?” Hurley asked, curious in the face of the Raven’s flippant demeanor.
“I got myself a nice meal, and then spent the rest on food and clothes for the local kids. It always seems like a lot when I first lift it, but it never goes very far.”
“Kids?” Hurley furrowed her brow.
“Yeah, you didn't think I was taking this all for myself, did you?” The Raven laughed, “even with battlewagon expenses, I could never use all that money for myself. Nah, I’m trying to help them out, make sure that they can get by without stealing so that they don’t have to end up like me. I’m surprised you saw me, though. Usually I’m in and out quick enough that no one notices.”
“I have a good eye for that kind of work.” Well, that was one way to put it
The Raven extended her hand. “I’m Sloane, by the way. If you can spot me at work, then you shouldn’t have to call me by my moniker.”
Hurley reached out and took Sloane’s hand in her own. It was warm and rough and so much larger than her own. “Hurley. Lieutenant Hurley of the Goldcliff militia.”
Sloane’s hand froze mid-handshake, but Hurley didn’t pause to give it much thought before twisting Sloane's wrist, grabbing hold of her elbow, and spinning her around until she skidded face-first onto the oil-stained concrete.
"Damn," Sloane mumbled as she tried to wiggle her way out of Hurley’s pin, “and here I thought a cute girl was actually interested in me for once.”
“Oh, I’m still interested.” Hurley smiled, knowing that Sloane couldn’t see her face. “Mostly I’m interested in how exactly you’ve spent the thousands of gold you’ve stolen in the past month alone. But I’m also interested in seeing what kind of person the Raven really is.”
“Well, here’s a glimpse for ya.” Sloane extended her free hand towards a pile of junk on the floor and grabbed a small cylinder. Hurley barely had time to think before Sloane flipped the top of the canister and the air filled with stinging smoke. Without thinking, Hurley loosened her grip on Sloane's arm and covered her own mouth. As soon as Hurley’s grip weakened, the other woman pulled out of her grasp and broke into a run.
“See you around, Hurley,” she called from somewhere beyond the smoke. “Hope you like the pepper bomb.”
By the time Hurley could stop coughing, Sloane was already gone.