The aftermath of the second Emergence was somewhat unexpected, at least to me. I’d been expecting more hate and fear from the normal population, but in a turn of events that was obvious in hindsight, quite the opposite happened. The chaos of the second Emergence was mitigated by heroes, and a few villains like me, stepping in to keep things calm. That isn’t to say things were entirely okay, more innocents died to the wanton destruction that was caused by people emerging with powers that they were unable to control, much like the child that Nightbinder and myself had saved.

Thinking back on that surreal night brought up all sorts of emotions, from anxiety to amazement to something… more. I didn’t want to put the name to it because naming it would give it more power. Regardless of my feelings on the matter, the confusion of the media topped even my own about that night. Some quick witted member of our audience that night had caught the whole encounter with the child lizard on their phone.

Including the strange back and forth that had happened between myself and Nightbinder. Media was split on the issue, the more Anti-Emerged channels saying Nightbinder had gone villain, while the more Pro-Emerged channels said I had gone hero. The most personally confusing aspect of the conversation around the footage that night was from the general lesbian community on the internet.

It was almost a little over a week later now, and the internet had exploded with… images. It seemed that the internet had decided to “ship” Nightbinder and Vulptrix, and let me tell you right now, that having extremely erotic art of myself online was a mighty strange experience. Even more so when I found myself imagining the situations and becoming… flustered. It took me this long, and I blame the whirlwind of shit that has happened to me, but this was the final straw that caused me to explore certain aspects of my new body. I won’t go into too much detail, but… screw it who am I kidding, it was amazing! Feeling that odd, warm tingling sensation build into something so much more had been a truly eye opening experience, and colour me curious about what it is like when someone else does it instead.

I did get a whole lot of amusement out of seeing Nightbinder deal with the same shit in full view of the public eye. The most hilarious instance being when she had agreed to do an interview for one of the more sympathetic news networks, and I managed to catch it live streamed on their website. The interview had been pretty standard stuff for the first half, as Nightbinder had sat in a relaxed posture, clad jarringly in an open back shirt and jeans, rather than her odd super suit. They had discussed her heroics during that night, which she had gone on to do a lot more of than just that first action. Then the bomb had been dropped, the elephant had been addressed.

“Now, I’m sure you’re aware by now, but your popularity has soared among certain aspects of the online community,” the reported had said in as casual a tone as she could manage.

Nightbinder had visibly cringed as she replied, “I… am aware, yes.”

Aware, oh that is funny, I thought. Awaaare. Girl, like three very beautifully rendered artworks of us making out made it to the front page of reddit like yesterday!

“It seems that many people saw that little clip of you and Vulptrix as the tip of an iceberg to so much more. The defining moment of which, when we discount your combined heroics, is what appears to be an affectionate ear scratch of Penrith’s most notorious fox girl. Of course it was not just this instance, you were seen saving Vulptrix from flying debris and if our lip readers are accurate, even flirting with her! What can you tell us about the way sparks were flying between you during that encounter?” the anchor asked, much of the explanation for the audience’s benefit.

Flirting? She was flirting with me? It hadn’t seemed like it at the time! Actually, hmm. I don’t know what it had felt like at the time, other than… oh damn. Oh Damn.

By this point, Nightbinder had gone almost completely beet red from hair tips to the tops of her breasts. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, and one could hear the audience begin to chuckle a little. I was actually a little red myself after that line of inquiry.

“I… I’m not really sure what happened between myself and Vulptrix. Up until that night we had been adversaries, and before the storms had arrived I was in the process of stopping her from robbing a money van or whatever you call them. I honestly can’t really… I don’t, I don’t know,” Nightbinder stammered, unable to find more words in her embarrassment.

“Let’s step back a bit then, Nightbinder, is this actually something that could happen? Are you attracted to women?” asked the anchor.

Nightbinder cringed again, and nodded without speaking.

“Yes? You are?” the anchor pressed.

“Yup,” Nightbinder said bluntly.

Well, that was interesting information to know… Wait no what aahhhh.

“So indeed you were flirting with Vulptrix,” the anchor asked with a raised eyebrow.

Nightbinder made some sort of strangled groan and put her head in her hands for a moment, “I don’t know? I guess? It wasn’t a conscious decision! I just… I, damn she’s just cute and it happened!”

I’m cute? I’m cute!

“Oh? Well, we have some questions from fans on twitter who are currently watching at home, would you be willing to answer one or two?” asked the anchor, clearly enjoying themselves now. Their grin was that of a smug cat who had caught the mouse, calmly sitting there with paw pressed down. The anchor knew they had Nightbinder… bound.

Oh this bit was pure comedy bliss. Nightbinder looked up from her hands with the widest eyes ever. She was transformed in my mind from the mouse to a deer as a logging truck barrelled down a lonely back road towards it. Before she could answer, the Anchor continued.

“Our first question is from the user chaoticlesbicat, who asks, What’s your favourite thing about Vulptrix? Other than her amazing fluffy tail,” the anchor quoted.

“I… what? My favourite thing about Vulptrix? No she’s, a villain! I shouldn’t have favourite things about a villain! Even one like her with gorgeous golden… No! No comment....” she babbled.

“I see… well, let’s move on to the next question! GabrielleBread asks, Was her ear as fluffy as I’m imagining? Did you get to touch her tail?”

“Her tail? No I don’t think so, other than maybe when I covered her from the rubble? I don’t remember if I did though. Her ears are kinda fluffy I guess yeah,” she said, avoiding eye contact with the anchor.

Kinda fluffy? Excuse me, they are very fluffy, and awesome and soft and fun to play with! My tail is better though. I’d have to show her the error of her… wait no nevermind. Axe that thought. Except that thought was replaced by one so devious I wasn’t sure if I would do it… jokes I was totally going to do it.

One question later, the anchor got to the one I wanted her to read out, “Now, I’ve just had this one brought to my attention by one of our producers. The user, Vulptrix, says, Tell them about the part they didn’t get on film, where you chained me up against a car… wink emoji.”

Nightbinder was silent for a moment, then she looked directly at the camera and shook her head, “Oh next time I am so going to get you!”

I have never written a tweet so fast in my life.

Looking down at their tablet, the anchor must have seen my tweet, because their face lit up with suppressed laughter, “We have another reply from the user who seems to be Vulptrix, which says, I look forward to it babe.”

At this point the anchor showed some mercy, and directed the topic in a less intense direction. Nightbinder never fully regained her composure though, and it had me giggling throughout the whole segment.

Now, I know a lot of people throw the phrase, “broke the internet” around, but for at least the lesbian contingents on reddit and twitter, that interview really did break them. If before there had been a shitstorm, this was a shitcyclone. To verify to my suddenly ballooning number of followers that I was indeed who I said I was on twitter, I took a picture of myself in full costume with my twitter handle written on my hand. I used my new platform to tease the ever living hell out of Nightbinder from the safety of my bed.

****

The next day I had to go out to get groceries, and when I shouldered the door open, grocery bags in hand, I found a small rectangle of paper in the entranceway. A business card. Strange. Who wanted to see me?

I stepped over it and closed the door, moving to the kitchen to deposit my burden before moving back and picking the card up. The card belonged to a “Ms Clark”, who was apparently part of the Heroes Organisation for Mutual Assistance and Resources. Oh shit. The OMR! Had they figured out who I was? That I was really Vulptrix? Fuck! I moved to my bedroom immediately, my first instinct to gear up for some holier than thou fucker in tights to bust my door down.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw there was a handwritten note packed onto the back of the card. To Kalia of , I hope this message finds you and the address, Vorn I believe gave me is correct. I came here with the intent of meeting you, collecting a witness statement and discussing a few things about the sad tragedy of the death of Kelly Newhall, but unfortunately you were not home.. A few irregularities and new information has come to light which we wish to confirm. Call me at my personal number xx-xxxx-xxxx.

I felt my heart curl up into a little ball at the mention of Kelly, and I fought the resurging depression for a moment. When I had somewhat mastered myself again, I looked at the number. Damn, I had no way to call her from home, I’d need to find a pay phone and use that. Did I want to call her? Kelly was dead, and no one was going to touch Bastion, so what was this about?

In the end my curiosity got the better of me and I grabbed some change and made my way out into the cold and the snow to find a payphone. I was pretty sure they still had one somewhere at the bottom of the building that had never been removed. I just hoped it was still connected.

When I arrived at the place I had seen the phone, I saw that it was actually a bank of payphones, it just happened that only one of them hadn’t been vandalised beyond recognition. I hurried over and inspected the ancient relic for clues as to how it operated.

A lot of squinting at instructions later, I had the money in the machine and the number dialled. I carefully raised the phone to my ear and listened to it ring. Finally, I heard it connect.

“Ms Clark speaking, is this?..“

“Uh, hello Ms Clark, I’m Kalia… you wanted to talk to me about… about Kelly Newhall?” I asked cautiously.

“Ah! Kalia so you do exist and a fellow Kiwi if I am reading your accent correctly,” she said excitedly, and then I heard her drop an apparently put on american accent in favour of a Kiwi one, it was a lot stronger than my own, not that I had any trouble with it. 

In her native accent she continued, “Sorry where are my manners. So yes about Kelly Newhall... I work with the Oh Em Ah as a caseworker, one of my clients reported befriending Kelly after her reported death and her testimony contained an account of Kelly talking about a foxgirl called Kalia. We have found further irregularities, so I was hoping If I could talk to you. Is this a good time?“

I didn’t say anything for more than a few moments, the idea that Kelly might be alive sending my whole body into overdrive. I felt my hands begin to shake and my heart increase its pace. Kelly might be alive? What?

“Uh-h, Yeah, k-kind of. I’m on a payphone right now though,” I told her weakly, my mouth filling in while my mind reeled at the massive bombshell she had just dropped on me.

“A payphone, I see. Do you know the Spruce Bay Cafe? How about we meet there and talk? In half an hour?” she asked.

“Yeah. I know it,” I said dazedly.

“I’ll be making my way there, hope to speak with you soon and if there are any other ways I can help, I will,” she said gently.

“Alight. Meet you there soon,” I said, and hung the phone up.

As soon as the phone hit the receiver I crumpled down onto the dirty concrete and began to weep softly. In my head I tried to form a full thought, but I failed, my mind simply refusing to operate properly as the storm of emotions wracked me. Kelly might be alive? How? Her body had been… How? That word reverberated through me. How?

I managed to gain some semblance of control over my mental state and headed out into the frigid streets of Penrith, my boots crunching in the slush. The cafe that Ms Clark had suggested was not far from where I lived, which I think had been why she suggested it.

When I arrived, I looked around but didn’t see anyone who fit the bill for an OMR case worker, so I went and ordered a coffee, then sat down at one of the many empty outside tables. Ms Clark had said she was going to be here half an hour after our phone call, so I still had around ten minutes to wait.

Almost exactly at the time she said she’d be here, I saw a tall gorgeous Māori woman carrying a briefcase in one hand, a purse in the other and wearing a pantsuit under her winter wrappings. She walked purposefully in my direction and when we locked eyes her smile widened in welcome. That was without a doubt Ms Clark. The odds of meeting a second Kiwi dressed for business in Penrith was too low for her to be anyone else.

When she was within fifty meters, a well built man in a hoodie and sweatpants brushed up against her, and for a moment I thought nothing more had happened. That thought was dashed when I saw him grab her briefcase and make a break for it. I got out of my seat to try and help, but I stopped when I realised I wasn’t wearing any of my gear, most importantly my necklace.

Because I was focused on the thief, at first I didn’t realise that something much worse had happened. Ms Clark clutched at the center of her chest, and I saw blood begin to leak out of from behind her hand in an urgent torrent.

“Oh fuck! Someone call 111! Wait no shit, call 911!” I cried out, hoping anyone would listen.

People stared around in confusion, watching me as I ran towards the collapsing Ms Clark who was still clutching her bleeding chest in confusion.

“Call a fucking ambulance!” I screamed at a woman who was staring at the blood pooling on the ground around the bleeding Kiwi on the ground.

The woman started in surprise and then nodded jerkily, and I rushed to rest of the way to the fallen woman. She was still dazed, clutching feebly at her wound with a confused expression on her face.

“Ms Clark! What happened?! They’re calling an ambulance!” I cried.

She gasped weakly and coughed up blood. I watched helplessly as she tried to take in air, but every time she did there was a gurgling sound instead. I rolled her into the recovery position and hastily unwrapped her scarf, using it to stem the bleeding. This was all I could think of to help her, and I looked up at the woman who I had told to call the ambulance.

“Did you call it?” I demanded.

“Ye-yes,” she stammered.

“Thank you! Now we just have to hope they get here in time,” I said to myself.

Minutes later, in which I spent the time trying to keep Ms Clark as comfortable as possible, the ambulance screamed into the street. Paramedics lept from the vehicle and rushed to my side, where I was roughly shoved aside and they began to do their job. I stood as near as they would let me with the blood soaked scarf in my hands. It seemed like no time at all before they had her in a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. I tried to follow, I even begged to come with them, but they bluntly refused without so much as giving a reason.

****

The night was clear and silent. At least, as clear and silent as it could be in a city of millions. I’d started out the night intending to rob someone blind, but it hadn’t worked out that way. The idea had been to distract myself from the events of the day, but I’d ended up on this rooftop somewhere near the city center instead. I just didn’t have it in me tonight. I wanted to say I hadn’t been crying as I dangled my legs into the abyss, but I’d be lying.

I didn’t know Ms Clark at all, but it’s always a pretty rough ordeal to hold someone as they bleed their life out on the pavement. I’ve done it twice now after all. This time was different however, this time it was on purpose. Someone wanted her dead. I don’t know if it was because of whatever she wanted to tell me, or if it was something else, or if it was even a random stabbing. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that it hadn’t been random though. Who stabs someone after stealing from them. It makes no sense.

And then there was Kelly. Dear sweet innocent Kelly. Kelly who was supposed to be dead… I thought she was dead anyway. She’d died right there, I’d seen the light leave her eyes, so how could she be alive? The situation was so utterly strange I didn’t know what to do or where to go from here. If Kelly is somehow alive, I need to find her, I need to save her from whoever is holding her!

How am I meant to figure any of this out though? I’m a failed engineering graduate with no name and only a string of thefts to be proud of. I didn’t know the first thing about tackling conspiracies or shady organisations or whoever was behind this. Shit I wasn’t even sure there was something sinister going on, maybe Ms Clark had an ex with a vendetta?

Sitting on the rooftop, anxious and depressed, I heard possibly the noise I least wanted to hear tonight, wingbeats. Please at least be Nightbinder. I didn’t move when I heard her feet touch the rooftop, or acknowledge her in any way, waiting for their voice to tell me which angel it was.

“That was some shit you pulled during my interview Vulptrix,” I heard Nightbinder say wryly.

I shrugged and gave a half hearted reply, “It was fun I guess. Sorry, it probably kind of sucked on your end.”

“I… guess yeah,” she said, clearly taken aback by my less than enthusiastic return banter.

I heard her walk up to the edge next to me and lean against the lump of concrete that served as the edge of the building, one I was currently sitting on.

“You wanna get off that and come back to safety? That looks kind of dangerous,” she said, her voice the gentlest I had ever heard it.

I ignored her for a moment, then nodded, swinging my legs around to drop onto the safer area of the rooftop with her. I tried to make sure my hood was up so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact, but my ears were folded and squished under it and it was a constant battle to keep the thing up. Somewhere along the shift back to solid ground I lost the hood, and I involuntarily made eye contact with Nightbinder.

“How’d you find me?” I asked before she could comment on my dishevelled appearance.

“I didn’t really. I was out patrolling, since it’s been a hectic week since that second emergence we had, but things are quieting back down now and I was bored. Wondered who it could be sitting on a rooftop in the middle of the night so I flew down to check,” she explained quietly, and I could feel her eyes boring into me as I turned my gaze away.

“Oh, cool. Thanks for keeping us safe I guess,” I mumbled.

I looked up at her again when moved forward and pressed me back against the barrier with a hand. Unable to squirm out of her grasp or break eye contact properly, I stood there as she looked my face up and down with a frown.

“It’s honestly pretty damn weird seeing you not all teasing and shit you know, what’s up with you?” she demanded.

“Why do you care? You should be trying to beat me up and then take me in to the police. Maybe they can get some beatings in too, isn’t that what you heroes do?” I gritted out, my voice breaking at the last and turning into a sob.

Surprising both myself, and I think Nightbinder, I found myself drawn forward into a hug against the taller girl. The light pollution was all but blocked out as her wings swept forward to enclose us in a feathered tent from the world.

“Whoa there, I know I’m not meant to be like, talking to a villain and shit. Fuckin’ Seraph would have my ass, but I’ve seen the guys you hit. You go for the assholes. You’re one of the better ones. So what is up with you right now? What’s with that little outburst?” she asked softly.

“Why are you suddenly being kind? What is even going on?” I choked back, not answering her question.

“Look I don’t know, I just… none of this is normal alright? Please just tell me,” she asked again.

I tried to struggle out of her embrace, but it was half hearted at best, “You wouldn’t care! You’re a hero, I’m a villain. Apparently the how and why, shit any nuance at all, doesn’t fucking matter!”

“Yeah, maybe to Captain Pole-Up-Ass and the Flying Bitchface, but I can listen,” she said, again in a gentle tone.

“Fuck,” I muttered quietly, and sagged against her, losing the will to fight her.

“Gonna tell me what’s up?” she asked for like the fifteenth time.

“Fine, okay…” I started, pausing to gather my thoughts, “Ever since I emerged like, two months ago or whenever it was, I’ve just had the shittest time. Every person I turn to for help either dies or tries to kill me, and now it’s happened again. That’s what’s fucking up alright?”

“Whoa, what? Who died?” she asked.

“Well I don’t even know if she’s dead anymore, that’s the fucking thing. And the chick who was going to tell me about it was fucking stabbed and just… like… ugh. Shit it was your mate Bastion who killed my friend in the first place!” I exclaimed, trying briefly to push her away again in a cloud of angry tears.

“Okay, that’s some heavy shit. How did he kill her?” she asked, her voice shocked but her question came out calmly.

“Threw that Titanic dickhead through her via a car. They kept battling like it was nothing, both of them! While I tried to-” I said, choking on tears that once again began pouring out of me, “While I tried to… While…”

“Hey, hey. Whoa little vixen whoa. Let it out,” she sung softly.

I cried into her shoulder for so long I even managed to soak through her weird super suit. I don’t know when she started, but at some point she began to scratch me behind the ear, far more gently than the time that got caught on camera. My little involuntary fox noises manifested as little whimpering cries that were easily recognisable as some sort of canine whine.

My breathing eventually began to slow, and so did the tears as I cried myself out. It left me feeling refreshed in that strange way that a good cry often does, but the underlying bitter sadness was still very much in attendance, as it always was these days.

“Why on earth are we hugging? You seemed pretty intent on denying your attraction during that interview,” I giggled softly, my voice still watery from the tears. I was trying to get back into the normal swing of our weird rivalry, and I hoped it worked.

“Because you’re a little crying fox who needed a hug. Despite your kleptomaniac tendencies I think you’re an okay person,” she laughed softly.

“I am stealing from people who deserve it!” I grumbled.

“Let’s not get into that now Vulptrix, let's talk about your friend who is dead but not dead. Care to explain?” she said, diverting from the villain vs hero debate.

“So after Bastion killed my friend, her name was Kelly, I just kindof, tried to get on with my life without her... But today I had a phone call with an OMR case worker who claimed one of her people had seen Kelly after her death, talking about a fox girl she was friends with. Me, that is. She tracked me down and we agreed to meet, but literally as she was walking towards me at the cafe, some dude stabbed her and stole all the files she had. Someone doesn’t want what that case worker knows getting out,” I explained shakily.

“Wait… Kelly. Kelly Newhall? I heard she died from her friends but…” she trailed off, leaning back to squint at me with a look that tried to drill for secrets in my eyes, “I knew her.”

I looked away from her eyes in a bit of a panic, oh shit, we were connected in our normal lives. That isn’t good.

“Well, nevermind that,” she continued, sensing my reticence around the fact we both knew Kelly, “If you think she’s still alive, or something else even, we need to get you a trail to follow.”

“But I don’t know the first thing about investigation and trails and shit! I’m a desperate fox girl who steals shit as a fucking coping mechanism!” I exclaimed.

“Well, make finding your friend a coping mechanism too, god knows that drive has worked for you so far,” she said wryly.

“Yeah, you haven’t caught me yet have you?” I grinned up at her.

She arched an eyebrow and leaned in close. Too close! Oh my gosh! My heart rate jumped into the stratosphere and I felt my face flush dramatically. I guess we were back to this uh, dynamic then…

“Oh, you think this isn’t catching you little vixen?” She whispered huskily, our noses almost touching and her arms tightening around me.

I strangled squeak lept from my throat and I fought every instinct in my body that was screaming at me to bring our faces even closer together. Her lips were so perfect, it was incredible how perfect… I wanted them.

She chuckled in that same husky tone and pulled back slightly, “Let’s not forget who’s got the upper hand in this little rivalry of ours hmm?”

I nodded shakily, still trying to pry my mind off thoughts of how it would feel if she had continued.

“Good girl. You make sure you remember that okay?” she smirked.

I nodded again and bit my lip in a small act of retaliation. I saw her take a breath and gulp, and knew I had scored a hit. This was fun!

“Now,” she said with a hint of lost composure, “I think you should check out a bar called Limbo. It’s for emerged to hang out in, and I hear there’s this new chick who is good at investigation and shit. It’s in this burned out irish pub, but don’t go fighting anyone there, the owner doesn’t like it when the clientele gets too rowdy.”

“Okay, uh… how do I find it?” I asked tentatively, maybe, just maybe I can do this… maybe I can find Kelly!