Chapter Text
Moe was never one to dwell on things. A good habit for a supervillain, you’d think. Ha. A man of pure evil and hatred who feels zero bits of remorse for his actions. His fingers brush against his mask as he picks it up and stares deeply into its soulless eyes. The paint he used is chipping off, and it’s in desperate need for a repaint. He places it on his face, placing yellow contacts into his eyes. He can’t dwell on this. No matter how his brain aches to. And it truly is an ache. He feels the weight of his actions constantly, but that has never stopped him. Because he can’t dwell on this.
He clicks the cape over his shoulders, the fastening worn, just like his mask. He looks at himself in the mirror, finding the man looking back at him nearly unrecognizable. It’s still him of course, he still has his iconic pompadour that swirls like a cartoon character’s, and his crooked grin that seems to always be painted on his face. Wearing a mask feels more comfortable than having his face out in the open, even if the plastic from the 3d printed design digs into his ears uncomfortably. It isn’t him, though. It’s the Dynamoe. There’s a clear disconnect between his two identities. He doesn’t know which one truly represents him. He doesn’t dwell on it.
He looks at his watch, one he built for himself last year as he started getting more serious about this whole villain thing; it reveals a point on a map as well as a line of text, 6549 Mustard Ave, suite 602. His target. His footsteps and movements are unsteady as he slides out the window with his grappling hook, as cracks in the plaster haunt him as he goes down. He shouldn’t think this hard about these things that don’t matter all too much, but he can’t help himself. It’s so easy to stare out and feel every bit of the world around you. But he can’t. He has a job to do and he’s his own boss, cracking down on him like the plaster of his window. He takes a deep breath and slips into the night, ready to leave it all behind when he falls to sleep.
—
The day after a heist always hit him hard. His phone rang out like cries as he let it seep into his sleeping form. He always had heists set up to where he had an off day the next day. He knew full well that this might not be a good idea, that someone might catch on to his schedule, but he doesn’t have the bandwidth to care. No one has caught him yet, so he doesn’t care too much. What he can care about at the moment is the incessant ringing of his phone that he wants gone. The ringing continues until he groggily yanks the phone from its charger and sees the caller ID. He groans.
(XXX)-XXX-XXXX
爸爸 // Duke
He doesn’t want to pick up the phone. It’s 7 in the morning for him. He’d rather die than talk on the phone, and it’s uncharacteristically early for his father to be calling. He pulls himself up, not even bothering to put hIs glasses on. He takes a second and picks up the phone.
“嗨爸爸。”
“Moe! I’ve been trying to reach you all morning, what happened kiddo?” Duke asks in his usual disgustingly cheery tone. His father was always an early bird, their time zone difference making this habit of his. Moe was out until 3:38 am, so his pitiful amount of sleep really got to him. He yawns as he musters up the appropriate words to express his grogginess. In the back of his head he groans at the word choice of kiddo. He was 27,yet his father insisted on calling and treating him like a child.
“爸爸， it’s 7 in the morning here…You woke me up.” he mumbles.
Duke laughs apologetically, “Apologies, pal, but that won’t be a problem starting next week, at least!”
Moe grumbles, “-And why’s that?”
He can hear the smile from his fathers lips as he shouts into his ear, “Well, me and my team are taking residence in Tastyville to research the Ninjoy and Dynamoe case,” he seems so excited to say this to him, like he’s been waiting all day for this moment (And he means all day, his father didn’t sleep. ‘The news never sleeps!’ he’d say on his 7th cup of coffee from the Mocharia. The only person with a worse sleep schedule than Moe was his father.)
Moe’s eyes widened. He checked his hearing aid with much haste to see if he heard him right. His blood ran so utterly cold you’d like hell froze over. That’s where he was, right? He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously as he said, “Ha…what did you say you were going to be looking into.”
“Why, the Dynamoe and Ninjoy case. Those two villains torment Tastyville terribly with their tritely comical crimes! And, Shan and I got permission from the police station to investigate this case. Because of your knowledge of your comic books and such, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d like to assist us in catching these foul fiends!” Moe feels like he could just about throw up in his own mouth. The thought of his father catching him and putting him away is terrifying. He grits his teeth. His fathers constant, “News Reporter,” voice made things much worse.
He put on a smile and let it roll off of him. He can’t dwell on this. Everything would be fine. His father wouldn’t know, “Huh, interesting. I’m sure I can be a great…help…to the case of course! Where are you going to be staying?” He quickly changed the subject, wanting to be rid of it entirely. He also needed to know if his father would be staying with him, like he usually did when he was doing stories in Tastyville. Unfortunately for him, the other times did not involve him usually. The great “Pizza Attack” of ‘06 and the many appearances of the “Nefarious Ne’er-do-well Ninjoy” in 2011 were both single cases where he stayed with him, but he hadn’t started his ...personal hobby…until last year!
“Well, Shannon is staying with her brother in his apartment after he got robbed,” he curses himself in his head, “and I was hoping to stay with you, but with this new criminal on the loose, I’m not so sure…”
“The Dynamoe, huh…”
“You’ve heard of him? He’s been terrorizing the towns surrounding Tastyville for the past year. Not much is known about him, but he’s been connected to at least 8 different crime sprees throughout the country.”
Moe was always a good actor and an even better liar, especially over the phone, “Yeah, I got robbed by him a bit ago,” he lied through his teeth.
“Oh, 宝贝, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you want this guy behind bars as much as we do,” his voice dripped with sympathy, a kind that made him feel something akin to guilt. He doesn’t let it affect him.
“Something like that.”
“I assure you, kid, we’ll bring him to justice as soon as possible. Now I gotta head out, we both have a plane to catch and I’d rather not miss that,” Moe ended the call before saying goodbye. He slumped back, wishing he could leave this all behind. He can’t though. He can’t dwell on this.
—
Joy stared at the floor as she sweeped. There was nothing but dust, but that wasn't what was on her mind. She heard everything in the small pizza shop she worked at, and especially during the nights as Ninjoy. It was overstimulatingly beautiful, yet horrible all the same. She heard through the grapevine that her least favorite person would be in town. Duke Gotcha. That Dynamoe freak acted like a nuisance, and while, yes, he was annoying, he wasn’t trying to ruin her life as she knew it. She sighed and walked outside. She took out a cigarette and lit it. She knew it was a bad idea to smoke, but fucking god she needed it. A foul habit of hers, she knows. She lets the smoke fill her mind and body, like water vapor on the top of a glass pot. She can focus now. She takes a breath, and jumps. A man was standing there. She puts out her cigarette and makes eye contact with him.
“Sorry, are you guys open, right now?”
She eyed the man. He wore a light blue coat with numerous pins littering it, some she recognized as from comic books, some she couldn’t make out entirely. Underneath he wore a white dress shirt over a tanish shirt; she had no idea why he was wearing so many layers, but she didn't pay it much attention. The most drawing feature of his was his face and hair. He has 2 different coloured eyes and such a dumb pompadour it made her laugh. The way it swirled was so interesting, it distracted her from answering.
“Hello??” he inquired impatiently.
She blinked a few times, “OH— Yeah, we are. Sorry, I was just taking a break. I’m the only one working today,” she said as she led him inside, “I’m just a bit frazzled.”
“Man, I get that. 我爸爸在城里, so he had to call me at 7 in the morning. I only got like…4 hours of sleep because of it.
“Honestly! My uncle made me work 2 shifts since my brother has been sick all week, it’s been awful. I’ve been surviving on coffee and cigarettes.”
“Good to know I’m doing better than someone. What’s your name, mystery girl?”
She laughed, “Joy. Joy Meneguzzi. You?”
“Moe Zhang.”
“Well, Moe Zhang, what would you like to order,” she said, twirling her hair.
“Jalapeños and onions across the board, if you could,” he smiled crookedly.
“Gotcha! Give me a minute—”
She worked carefully, shaping the crust the best she could muster. If it were anyone else, she'd work with an air of sloppiness, but something about this stranger calmed her down. Moe Zhang..she swirled the name around in her mouth, tasting each letter. She finished the Pizza, threw it in the oven, and came out to look at her single customer. Usually, not many people came in after dark. There was a tough customer but afterward, usually no one. Today was different, she guesses. She heard the ding of the pizza ozen and brought the hot pizza to its box. She brought it to the front,and rang the bell.
“Thank you!” he waved.
“No problem! Your total will be $18.33. By the way, I haven’t seen you around, did you moved here recently?”
He nodded while taking a bite of his pizza sheepishly, “Yup! About 8 months ago I opened my comic shop. I’m from Whiskview originally, but I’ve lived all over the country because of my dad’s job.”
“Oh, what does your dad do?”
“News Reporter. I hated it as a kid, he’d do the dumb news reporting voice all the time to embarrass me at school. It was so annoying, I’m not sure how I managed it for 18 years,” he laughed.
Joy connected the dots in her head. Shit, “Hey your dad isn't that one news reporter, Duke Gotcha, is he?”
Moe looked around and mumbled, “Who’s asking…”
She burst out laughing to hide her anxieties, “OH MY GOD HE IS! I knew there was something familiar about you. Small world I guess.”
Moe’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he laughed along to keep cool. “Yep, haha…It’s a bit embarrassing; I was always teased about my dad in school.”
“Don’t worry, I was too. My Uncle Louie is kind of famous too, so I’ve experienced my fair share of bullying.”
“Well then, very good to meet you, Joy! But I best be off now, it’s getting late and I should get home so I can catch up on some of my missed sleep,” he laughs.
“Alright then, take care!” she smiled back.Joy noticed his cheerful demeanor lessened when he walked out the door but she couldn’t judge. The same happened with her anyway. She sighed, went up to the front and turned the open sign off.