Archive of Our Own ^beta

Metropolis, AUS. 1992.

Capable popped her head into the kitchen. “Cheedo, are you good here? I’m gonna take the trash out.”

“Yes!” Cheedo answered. She was elbow-deep in the dishes from dinner, taking care of everything that wouldn’t fit in the industrial dishwasher. She handed a bowl off to Dag, who was leaning against the counter, whirling a frayed dishtowel around and staring into space.

“She’s gotta go, she has an exam tomorrow,” Dag supplied in a bored monotone. She dried the dish quickly and mechanically before returning to whirling her dishtowel around.

“Cheedo! Get outta here. Dag and I will finish up. Go study,” Capable chided. Cheedo’s eyebrows shot up, and she was about to protest, but Dag hip-checked her out from in front of the sink before she could get a word in. Cheedo stumbled and Dag snickered. Capable shook her head and left the kitchen.

“Bye, Cape!” Cheedo called from the kitchen.

“Bye Cheed, good luck on your exam,” Capable answered back over her shoulder.

The girl was too nice for her own good. She’d give away the shirt on her back if it was the last one she had. Capable picked up her two industrial trash bags and walked through the narrow hallway to the back exit. She pushed the door open with her hip and shimmied out into the alley. The door closed behind her with a soft click. The dumpster was toward the front of the alley. Capable walked over, it was only a few steps, and dropped one of the bags on the ground. She opened one of the lids, then tossed in one bag, then the other. She let the lid slam down and brushed her hands off on her jeans.

She took a deep breath. She wrinkled her nose at the trash air. Figures. She walked over to her spot near the door and leaned in the shallow corner, hidden from view of people walking by the alley. She’d had such a long day–the unyielding support of the brick walls, the gentle breeze, and a quiet moment to herself were exactly what she needed right now.

She peeked out and looked to the left and the right. …She also needed a cigarette. She sighed and rustled in a pocket of her overcoat, pulling out a packet. She shook one out of the box and put it between her teeth. She was trying to quit, she really was, and she was actually doing pretty good. She was down to 1 cig a day, if that. But it was such a long day, and they’d all had such a long week, so 2 was going to have to be okay today. She held up a manicured finger, and in the blink of an eye a small flame appeared above the pointed tip of her nail. She lit her second and last cigarette of the day, extinguished the flame, and put the pack back in the pocket of her jacket. She leaned against the wall and smoked for a while.

She flipped her hand and inspected her nails. These are grown out. I need to redo them.

What am I gonna do for dinner? No leftovers left. Might have a block of tofu still, can’t remember. Takeout?

…Nah, shouldn’t. The new Chinese place does look good though… Still shouldn’t.

I need to ask Toast to cover for me next week… If we’re as busy as we were this week she’s gonna be pissed.

Can’t remember the last time we hit full capacity, much less twice in a week.

She was used to tuning out the ambiance of the city–sirens, screaming, critters. Because of that, she almost missed the aggressive rustling coming from up the alley. She definitely closed the dumpster lid, so unless racoons started getting superpowers, someone was rifling around in their dumpster. She put her cigarette out on the wall and tossed the butt in a bucket by the door.

She peeked around the corner. The dumpster lid was open, and someone was folded in half over the rim. Odd. Odder still, the lid was held up with sharp, thorny vines, which weren’t there a few minutes ago. Doubly odd. Capable shook her curls over her shoulders and walked out into the open. Her visitor didn’t hear her walk up and continued dumpster diving. Or maybe they didn’t care. Regardless, Capable watched for a few more moments.

“If you’re hungry you can come inside.”

The diver flipped out of the dumpster like a spooked cat. At the same time, vines sprung forth from cracks in the asphalt. They were both rooted to the spot–the diver was presumably shocked at being caught, and Capable was held in place by her ankles by the same thick, spiny vines that held up the dumpster lid. Capable could then clearly see that the diver was just a kid. She was a scrawny girl with a shaved head and superpowers.

Capable sighed. This wasn’t how she hoped this would go. She didn’t want to spook the young super, who was clearly volatile, so she didn't free herself from her restraints. “This is a shelter, kid. We have food if you need, you can come inside.” The girl continued glaring at Capable and didn't say anything. She blinked a few times. Maybe she isn’t used to people not reacting to her powers? “Are you looking for food?” Again, no response. She blinked a few times. “Well if it’s not food you’re looking for, we have other stuff. Clothes, coats. A bed?”

The kid remained a statue. Capable’s limited supply of patience was quickly wearing thin. “It’s free of charge, if that wasn’t clear. Giddy’s is a nice place. I work here. I can help you,” she coaxed. She was speaking softly, trying to comfort the teenager into speaking. Even fussing and cussing would be progress compared to the silence. Capable tried to be patient. The poor kid looked like hell. She was dirty and disheveled and terribly thin. She looked young, too. It wasn’t unusual for the youth that came through Giddy’s to not be talkative, but they usually didn’t come with a supernatural trap in an alley.

New plan. Capable made a show of kicking at the vines. “Will you let me go? I can’t help you if I’m tied up in an alley.” The girl didn’t move, though her face twitched. The vines did move, but they crept higher up her leg, tightening slightly.

Alright, now I’m pissed. The situation had to be nipped in the bud, lest Capable start to smolder. She snapped her fingers and the vines erupted in a burst of bright flames, quickly turning to ash and falling to the ground. Capable shifted from foot to foot and rotated her ankles, enjoying her freedom. The girl jumped back, clearly not expecting her new associate to also be a super.

“That’s enough of that,” Capable said, with an artificial chirp in her voice. She tossed her curls over her shoulder and wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. “Listen kid. My shift ended an hour and a half ago, and I’ve had it with today. Come in or don’t. I don’t care.” Liar. “But it’s rude to trap people that want to help you, and you should know better than to use your powers so recklessly. You know how it is out there, and it’s getting worse. I could have been anyone–.” Capable’s scalp prickled. She was hot. The air around her wavered and wiggled from the heat she gave off. She took a deeeep breath.

The poor girl stood wide eyed. She made no effort to recapture Capable, and if anything she just looked tired now. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Poor thing.

Capable heaved a sigh. “Come on. I’m going to go get dinner, I’m starving. Come with me, we can share.” Capable held the back door to the shelter open and didn’t move until the girl reluctantly shuffled inside.

- - - - -

Capable rummaged through one of the junk drawers in the back office. They had it down to one drawer at one point, but the mess was slowly spreading as the year went on. Junk drawer number 1 didn’t have the menus in it, so she moved onto number 2.

“Cape? There’s a feral teenager in our breakroom,” a voice called from the hallway. “Was that you?”

“Yeah,” Capable answered back. Aha! Found the menus. She picked them up along with a notepad and a pen, then sauntered over to the break room from the back office, where she’d left the dumpster diver, who’d been joined by the dreamy blonde. “Found her out back. Dinner?” Capable flipped through the menus, tossing options on the table as she flipped through.

“Sure.” The blonde turned to the stray. She was sitting in a chair with her back to the corner of the room, and her knees were tucked into her chest. “Are you hungry?”

The girl looked up at her from beneath half-lidded eyes. She stared back. Capable sighed and popped open a menu.

A bell jingled in the hallway. The door to the back office suite opened and closed, and another woman appeared, ushered in by a cloud of jasmine and mandarin. She had an air about her–a commanding presence that typically drew the attention of everyone in the room. Almost like she was magnetic. “Evening, Dag. Evening, Cape.”

“Evening Toast,” Dag echoed back. “You’re early. You have a light day today?”

The new woman slung a large bag off of her shoulder and onto one of the many chairs jammed around the break room table. The chair wobbled both under the weight of the massive handbag and because the legs were uneven–it had lost two of its feet years ago. She sighed and rolled her shoulder. “Not particularly. Just had a feeling something interesting would happen tonight.”

“More interesting than an alley stray?” Dag wondered aloud. She began absentmindedly flipping through one of the menus Capable picked out. “We’re about to have dinner. How do you feel about Chinese?”

Toast looked at the girl sitting in the corner. She was hunched over herself, tucked protectively behind the large, scratched table that had been in the Giddy’s break room probably since its inception. The girl glared back at her. After a moment, she shivered, discomfort clear in her expression. “I would love some Chinese. She’s hungry too,” Toast added.

Capable rolled her eyes. “Let the poor thing be. Chinese it is.” She took the menu from Dag and slid it across the table to the girl, who glared at her when she leaned toward her. She slid the pen and paper along next. “Write down what you want. If you don’t write anything down, I’ll just pick something for you, so you’d best take advantage.”

Capable turned to Toast and Dag. “Let’s go do turnover. When we’re done we’ll order.”

Dag nodded and left the room. Toast replied, “Fine by me,” then heaved her bag back up and followed Dag to the office.

Capable turned one more time to the girl. “We’ll be back in 10 minutes.” She paused, intentionally softening her voice. “You’re in good hands. Get what you want, and we’ll explain this place over dinner.”

Capable strode out of the room to meet Toast and Dag, and felt the gaze of the teenager follow her until she was out of sight.

The back office at Giddy’s was even more cramped than the break room. It was a barebones setup with two desks, several chairs, and walls lined with filing cabinets that were both stuffed full of and buried under files. The walls and tile floor were the same shade of drab grey, covered in scratches and scuff marks. The desks were clear except for stationary. They couldn’t afford a computer–the only technology they had available was a landline on the desk and a library 7 blocks away.

Toast walked over to the largest desk and pulled the chair out. She dumped her bag into the chair and shrugged her blazer off with it. She perched on the desk, crossing one leg over the other, then addressed the room.

“She’s a super,” she announced. Capable and Dag both nodded.

“Yeah. Some nature power type-deal. She tied me down with vines in the alley.” Capable plopped down in an office chair that was patched with duct tape in several places. Dag used a chair as a step as she climbed up on top of some file cabinets, nestling in the corner of the office.

Toast raised her eyebrows. “Damn. She’s raw. No smart super would do that in front of a normie.” Capable nodded. Toast narrowed her eyes at Capable. “You smoking again?”

Capable rolled her eyes. “Just one. And I’m not a normie,” she countered.

“She didn’t know that. It was a risky gamble to make.”

“True… She’s young though. She could just not get it yet,” she mused, twirling a vibrant curl between her fingers. “Or she could just be desperate. She looks scrappy, she’s probably gotten in and out of jams before. You get anything else?”

Toast shook her head. “Nah, she’s got walls up. I don’t know what she’s been through, but it’s clearly a lot. It’s almost like she’s been trained.”

“Huh. That’s unusual, especially for a kid.” Capable kept twisting her hair. Toast’s leg had begun to shake–a surefire indicator that she was lost in thought.

No one spoke for a few moments, then Dag piped in. She’d been playing with one of her bracelets the whole time, making no sound aside from the soft jingle of loose charms. “We’re keeping her.”

Capable chuckled darkly. “She’s not a dog. We can’t just decide to keep her, it’s up to her. And besides, we don’t even know where she came from, or who might be looking for her.”

“We know you want to,” Toast countered. Capable rolled her eyes. “We should at least try. I’ll call Ang.”

Capable sighed. “One thing at a time. You guys turn over, I’ll order dinner.”

- - - - -

The foursome sat around the table in front of a veritable feast. The Stray, at the head, sat in front of a steaming plate of beef and vegetables. Toast and Capable split a platter of cashew chicken, and Dag was hunched over a large bowl of egg drop soup. A small assortment of sides and boxes of rice were spread between them.

Toast and Capable glanced between themselves and Dag. Capable took the lead. “This is better than our usual spot,” she proclaimed between bites. Dag and Toast both nodded and “mmhmmed” enthusiastically behind mouthfuls of food. Capable shifted her attention to The Stray.

“How’s yours? Is it good?” Capable asked. The Stray didn’t answer. Capable’s eyebrows knitted together. “If you don’t like it we have other options–do you like egg rolls? Or you can have some of our chicken?”

Everyone was looking at The Stray. The poor kid looked uncomfortable, hidden behind the careful mask of a moody teenager. Capable raised her eyebrows at the girl. The Stray nodded microscopically and scooped another spoonful into her mouth. “Good.”

Toast chimed in. “Ang is gonna be mad that we got Chinese without her. She’s been wanting to try this new spot.”

Dag snickered. “Guess we’ll just have to get it again. Oh no.”

“I can’t afford another takeaway for at least two weeks,” Capable groaned. “It is quite good though.”

“We could have a team-building lunch, bill it to the business account,” Dag countered, wiggling her eyebrows at Capable and gesturing with her chopsticks.

Toast snorted. “Ang would never let that slide and you know it.” The Stray’s eyes bounced back and forth between the speakers, soaking in the banter between bites.

“Speaking of Ang. We have a produce delivery tomorrow at 6am sharp, and the washer repairman should be by around 9. Make sure you remind her when you turn over,” Capable advised Toast. “She definitely knows about the veg but she might not know about the repairman.”

“Right-o, I’ll let her know.” The conversation lulled, and the room was quiet except for the sound of soft chewing and the gentle scrape of utensils on plates.

Toast yawned. “I’m exhausted. Do we have any coffee left?”

“You know it. I just picked up some more today, it’s in the cabinet,” Capable said. “Tough week?”

Toast sighed into an egg roll. “Had a few long days. We’re prepping for trial next week, making sure everything’s in order. My paralegal’s been sick so I’m doing more of the admin work than I usually have to.”

Dag piped in. “You worried about it?”

Toast shook her head. “Naw. It’s open and shut.”

The Stray had stopped eating and was staring intently at her plate, trying to look disinterested. Perfect, Capable thought. Now to reel her in.

“I’d be concerned if The Inquisitor was worried.” The Stray’s eyes widened, and she buried her head in her plate. Toast fixed her with a look. Capable didn’t need Toast’s powers to know what that look meant–I hope you know what you’re doing. “Hope you’re not too tired for the…meeting…this weekend,” Capable led. She looked at Toast out of the corner of her eye conspicuously, making sure her eyes were artificially wide and that her mouth was tight. She could tell that Toast was trying not to roll her eyes, and that Dag was fighting off a giggle.

“Never. When’s the rendezvous?” Toast had long since finished her chicken and abandoned her chopsticks. She inspected the table. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she rifled through the paper bags they’d set on the floor by the table. “Aha!” Toast popped back up and tossed fortune cookies around the table, doling one out to each of them, then herself.

Capable began to open hers before she answered Toast. “I think our stray would love to know.” The Stray froze for a second, then glared at her defiantly and started unwrapping her fortune cookie. “I’m almost surprised she knows who you are,” she added. Capable and Dag started in on their fortune cookies, both squeezing the little bags until they popped, then cracking the cookies in two.

“It seems we’ve found ourselves in a mutually beneficial situation,” said Dag. She leaned toward The Stray and fixed her with a Dag classic–a perfectly stony expression that matched her “business mode” monotone. She waited until the girl was done reading her fortune and looked up at her.

“If you know who the Inquisitor is then you know who we are. So you know that we can protect you from whatever furious vexation you’re running from.” Dag paused, letting the girl digest what she said before continuing. “But you don’t trust us, and we don’t trust you. Trust aside, we can’t help you if we don’t know who you’re escaping.” The girl leaned back and began fiddling with her fortune, folding it and unfolding it. She said nothing.

Toast chimed in. “We know you’re curious. You want information from us and we want it from you. So let’s make a deal. We go back and forth, 1 question for 1 question. Honest answers only. You can go first, so you know we’re good for it.”

The Stray said nothing, looking back down at her fortune. She took a few deep breaths, then crumpled the slip of paper in her fist. Quietly, and angrily, she asked, “Why don’t you just read my mind again?”

Capable and Toast sighed. Toast led first, “I’m sorry for doing that. I just wanted to see if you were a threat. We do good work here, and have to protect our operation for the sake of the people we help.”

Capable spoke next. “We’ll give you a freebie to make up for Toast’s… indiscretion. Start with two questions.” The other two women nodded in agreement.

The girl shifted in her seat. “Fine. You all are The Five?”

“Yep,” Capable answered. “Sitting with you here now are The Inquisitor, Incendia, and The Chameleon.” She gestured around the table as she introduced themselves. “Not here are Poltergeist and Panacea. What’s next?”

She paused for a moment, thinking about her next question. “Who’s your leader?”

Toast took the lead on this one. “Officially, no one. We’re beholden to do right by each other by mutual agreement. Unofficially, we usually tend to let Poltergeist lead. She’s not here right now, obviously. I’m sure you’ve heard of her.” Toast made sure not to ask and waste their question. “What’s your name?”

“L-Little D,” she offered, stumbling over her words. Capable and Toast immediately knew she was bullshitting. The room immediately got warmer–Capable had a short fuse tonight. Sensing undue tension, Dag took the lead.

She wrinkled her nose. “Little D? That’s awful. Your parents must be right whackers.”

Capable glared at her. “Dag, what the hell?”

Dag snickered. “You named after your dad?”

Capable began to smolder. The air around her waved with heat. Before she could yell at Dag again, the girl spoke up.

“Furiosa. My name is Furiosa. I just haven’t used it in a while…” she trailed off. “I was called Little D. For a while.” Capable cooled off, and Dag nodded.

“That’s much better. A proper name for a proper hellion. Nice to meet you, Furiosa,” Dag commented, giving Furiosa a smirk. Toast and Capable rolled their eyes.

“My turn. If you’re The Five, what are you doing here? Is this your base?” she asked.

“That’s two!” Dag pointed out. Toast rolled her eyes, again, and ignored her.

“This is Capable and Poltergeist’s day job. Poltergeist became the manager almost a year ago. The Five all have some involvement with this place, but it’s not our base. Five business gets conducted elsewhere.” Capable and Dag nodded in assent.

“We try not to draw unnecessary attention to this place. The people that stay here don’t deserve to be collateral,” Capable added, staring down at her nails as she picked at them.

“Who are you running from?” Dag asked. Furiosa hesitated for a moment.

“Dementus.” Capable, Toast, and Dag all shared a look.

“Woof,” Capable said.

“Man’s a right wanker,” Dag claimed, aptly.

“If she’s on the run from Dementus then we probably shouldn’t keep her here,” Toast said. “We don’t know if she’s been seen, and if they track her here these people could be in for a world of trouble.” Toast and Capable shared a look. “And we might not have long.”

“I think you’re right. We’ll have to smuggle her out of here.” Capable had long resumed twirling her hair between her fingers. She leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling tile with the stain on it. “Shouldn’t be too hard. We can use Dag as a decoy. Or maybe Dag could shift her.”

She looked to Dag for confirmation. “Might be better if I shift her. We don’t know if anyone saw her come in here, so if we decoy her, it could give them a tip they didn’t already have,” Dag suggested. The room nodded in agreement, except for Furiosa, who looked uneasy.

“I haven’t even agreed to stay here,” Furiosa interrupted.

“Of course,” Toast replied. “But if you wanted to stay here, wouldn’t you rather understand the plan to keep you safe before you agree?”

Toast had a point. Furiosa nodded, then added: “What’s shifting?”

Dag chuckled. She sat forward and leaned to Furiosa once more. In the blink of an eye, Dag’s face began to change. Her skin and eyes darkened. Her long white hair receded into her scalp until it matched Furiosa’s buzz and turned a dark shade of brown. Her eyes, nose, mouth, and face gradually changed shape and morphed until she resembled Furiosa entirely. Furiosa stared at her, blinking furiously.

“This is shifting. I can do it to you too, if I’m touching you, which is what they’re talking about.” Furiosa nodded slowly. Dag shook her head and released the shift.

“So what do you think? We shift you, take you to a safehouse and lie low for a while,” Capable suggested. Toast and Dag nodded in assent, approving of the plan.

Furiousa stared at the table, then uncrumpled the little slip of paper she’d been holding in her fist throughout the conversation. She sighed. The room was quiet for a few moments–no one wanted to rush her and risk scaring her off.

“I’m in,” she declared, holding her chin up high. Atta girl.

Capable clasped her hands together. “Great! Let’s get you ready to go. How old are you? Do you have any ID?” She didn’t expect the girl to have any ID, but she figured she’d try anyway. They’d make do with or without.

“I’m 20, and no,” she replied shortly. Capable scrunched her face up.

“You’re 20? You look 15,” she asked. She was skeptical of the runaway’s claim. Oftentimes the youth that came by the shelter lied about their ages to avoid getting the authorities involved. It was possible.

Furiosa shrugged. “I was born in 1972.”

Capable shrugged back. “Alright then. Not a kid. Well, regardless, let’s get you into some different clothes, just in case. Dag, will you take her to the storeroom to pick something out?”

Dag nodded and pushed her chair out. She stood up abruptly and walked to the break room door. She stopped at the entryway and called out to Furiosa over her shoulder. “Come on then, we don’t have all night.” Furiosa tossed her slip on the table and darted out of the room after Dag. A heavy silence hung in the air for a moment.

“I knew we’d keep her,” Toast joked. Capable rolled her eyes and picked Furiosa’s fortune off the table. She unraveled it to reveal a series of Chinese characters and lucky numbers. She flipped it over to unveil the fortune: You’re on your way. Capable raised her eyebrows.

“Did you do this?” she asked, holding up the slip. Toast shrugged sheepishly.

Capable shook her head and tossed the fortune back down. “Toast the Knowing strikes again.”

Later, nearly 6 hours after Capable’s shift ended, she, Dag, and Furiosa stole away in the night, leaving Toast in charge of Giddy’s. Shrouded by darkness and oversized hoodies, the three women traversed the dense blocks of Metropolis, following a serpentine path that looped around, doubled back on itself, and covered what felt like half the district. At nearly 4 in the morning, the women arrived at the safehouse, marking the end of Furiosa’s first journey as an apprentice of The Five–advocates of the downtrodden and extrajudicial fighters of crime.