Chapter Forty - The Angry Rattler

The booths were uncomfortable. Maybe that was because they were made of that same cheap fake-leather that bus seats were made of. Maybe it was the long strips of duct-tape keeping them together, maybe it was the slight stickiness, or his jeans being a bit too tight. Whatever the case, Kevin didn't like them.

At the same time, despite the awfulness of the booth's seat, it was still at least a little comfortable, not physically, but... he supposed it was an aesthetic choice? The booths fit in with the rest of the bar.

Dingy, a bit dirty around the edges, old, but maintained. He nodded to a waitress and ordered whatever was on tap. She returned with a pint of something murky and brown with a layer of foam at the top.

He left a ten dollar bill on the table which she swiped away in passing. He didn't expect to see any change from that, and didn't really care.

The place was the particular kind of dump that he enjoyed. It had character. The old men sitting around felt like they were part of the furniture here.

Kevin glanced up as the door opened and a man in a ratty old coat with a stooped back walked in. He glanced around, then raised his arms a little. A chorus of 'heys!' and 'you're here!' sounded from a nearby table, and even some of the people on stools by the counter half-turned to say their hellos.

The old guy sat down, and the same waitress that had served him placed a mug of something before him. He hadn't even ordered.

The atmosphere here was nice. Familial, almost. These folk weren't the richest in Eauclaire, they weren't fancy retirees or anything special, just working men and women with some time off, spending that time in their favourite pub.

He was going to hate ruining it for them, but needs must.

Or they'd must after his beer, and maybe a bite to eat. The smells coming from the kitchen in the back were making his mouth water. That, and he quickly discovered a few other excuses not to trash the bar just yet. After all, a few minutes spent scoping the place out wouldn't hurt.

He was worried that he wouldn't find any minions here. The folk were either older, or looked like they were just normal civilians off of work for whatever reason.

What he was looking for were gangsters and bangers and thugs with nothing better to do. Unfortunately, Eauclaire, being the nowhere city that it was, didn't have much in the way of criminal enterprises or losers that would be willing to join him.

His search so far had turned up nothing. A few drunks, maybe, but they'd need training and toughening up, and he wasn't looking for more work. Some guys from the college nearby were options too, but he found that those kinds of guys tended to be more... idealistic than thuggish.

Kevin figured he'd get lucky eventually. There had to be some people he could bully into working for him. It wasn't like he'd pay poorly. He was just unlucky when it came to recruiting, at least so far.

He took a long pull from his pint while checking the bar over. If he couldn't find the right kind of people here, then he might as well make a little money. Emptying the cash wouldn't hurt, especially in a place like this that dealt exclusively in hard currency instead of electronic money.

There were two kids sitting at the counter. One of them was looking back in his direction, and he caught her eyes. For a moment, he found himself freezing up, then the spell broke and he shook his head and refocused. Did he know her?

Kevin didn't exactly spend a lot of time staring at brats. They were usually harmless, if annoying, and he didn't like interacting with kids at the best of times.

The last time he'd seen kids was... that little fight with some heroic brats that had tried to stop him from robbing that money truck.

He sat up straighter, then eyed the girls more carefully. There were two of them, sitting at the bar and sharing a plateful of fries. They had sodas, with straws. They looked like normal kids, but what were kids doing in a bar?

Then he blinked as he noticed that one of them, the one in a grey hoodie that hadn't starred his way, had a tail hanging out the back of her pants.

He had seen it already, of course, but he'd dismissed it as some sort of childish costume or something innocent.

But a normal costume wouldn't be wagging like that.

Kevin stood up, the bench squelching a bit beneath him, then he made his way across the room towards the girls.

The tailless one glanced back and saw him coming. She smacked her friend on the arm, then they both jumped off their stools and slipped out of the bar. The barkeep, an older woman, frowned as they left. "Hey!" she called after the pair.

She didn't move to follow them as they slipped out.

Kevin might have tried to go after them, but the bar was a little packed and unless he wanted to barrel through people, it wasn't going to be easy to run out.

Instead he went to the counter. "What's up with those two?" he asked with a gesture to the door.

The barkeep turned to him, then looked him up and down with narrowed eyes. He felt a little awkward for a moment before he squished the sentiment. A guy asking about two unattended girls was a little suspicious, he supposed.

"They looked a bit young to be here," he explained.

"Yeah, well, they were waiting for someone to pick them up," she said. "Maybe she arrived."

"Yeah, okay," he said. He wasn't going to push it further than that. A glance around the bar again, and he decided that it was a bit of a bust. Plus, he was a little worried. What if they were here to ambush him?

Then again, they'd been here since before he arrived, and they left in a hurry once he started to approach them. It was probably just a coincidence.

But also, why were kids in a bar?

If it was just a coincidence, then it was a strange one. If the two little would-be heroes were adult women, then he'd dismiss it as just pure happenstance, but they shouldn't have been here to begin with.

Kevin sighed. And here he wanted to have some lunch before getting down to work. He stepped out of the bar, shrugging his coat on better. Charlotte was parked out front, looking rather sleek next to some grungy old motorcycles. He walked over to her, and popped the little side-saddle trunk on her side open. His supervillain mask lay within.

He grabbed it and tucked it into his coat, then he eyed the rest of the stuff in the scooter's container. He had a couple of guns, a retractable baton, and some pepper spray cans. Everything someone might need to cause some trouble.

He figured he wouldn't need it just yet, not for a couple of kids.

He patted Charlotte's container closed, then turned and searched the streets for his quarry. He found them relatively close. Two girls being chastised by a third not so far off, with a fourth girl standing near them, arms crossed.

The two newcomers were in costume.

Kevin worked his jaw. This was definitely something like an ambush in the making. Maybe one that he'd foiled by being proactive.

He considered just leaping onto Charlotte and riding away. It would be the safer option.

He cracked his knuckles and started forwards. Safer didn't mean better. If he wanted this to be his city, then he needed to put any sort of hero in their place.

Walking towards the girls, Kevin allowed himself to grin. His heart was beating faster already, his breath came quicker too. The fight hadn't even started and already he was getting excited for it.

The girls saw him coming, of course, the one with the crossed arms first, and she tugged the sleeve of the other costumed girl.

"Damn," he heard her mutter. "Owlwatch, Bandit, get behind me. Ursa Minor, play for time."

"You're on my turf," Kevin said. They wanted to play for time? That could only mean that they didn't expect to be able to pull a victory. He'd won already, all he had to do was the fun part.

"This ain't your turf," the chubby one with the crossed arms said. She glared. "This is the Boss's city, so how about you wobble your butt out of here, Shakes."

"My name," he growled while reaching into his coat for his mask. He slid it easily into place over his face. "Is Rattles."

***