The Rats in the Walls

The neighborhood had fallen on tough times since the passenger of the car walked here as a boy. A rolls Royce car, slowly driving down the streets, caught the eye of many an opportunist.

The old driver looked left and right, a bead of sweat on his bald, wrinkled head as he avoided many a parked cars and aimless pedestrians. “Are you sure you want to be here Jacob? The neighborhood’s changed for the worse since you left.” He asked his passenger.

“It’s around here Walter, I know it. This was the neighborhood Aisha’s video was caught. Not far from our elementary school.” The 15-year young man in the backseat said, quite literally looking out at his childhood, and the streets where he once walked with friends. He remembered the day he had to leave behind his life and friends one day, when that letter, telling him that his family - a postman for a father and a housewife mother - owned an estate in Louisiana, and that he was to inherit it.

“If you say so, young sir. But we could enlist others…” He suggested, shrugging his shoulders habitually in the worn blazer he wore.

“No, no, I don’t know any other hero outside the church, Walter. I need people I can trust.” Jacob replied.


A Knock suddenly came at the driver window, and a gun pointed at Walter. “Open the door and uut of the car Jeeves!” He shouted. Shocked and unprepared, the old driver stopped the car. The thugs opened the door and dragged the old man out.

“What no! What do you think you’re doing?! Don't hurt the boy!” He protested, being tossed to the ground at gunpoint. Two of the thug’s associates begin patting him down and taking his wallet and keys.

Meanwhile the passenger door was opened by force, and the thug dragged the boy out of the car. Seeing how he was dressed, in a suit and tie and nice leather shoes, the thug decided that ransoming the boy would likely bring a tidy profit. “You’re a pretty dumb kid riding around in this neighborhood. You’re coming with us!”

“No! no! I grew up here! And I’m not coming with you!” the young boy bravely tried to fight back, but the thug bobbed away from the clumsy haymaker, then smacked the kid back. At which point one of the gangers struck the boy with a nightstick across the head, knocking him unconscious. Once the thugs got the keys off the old driver, they prepare to take off with the expensive car.

The evet was happening in broad daylight, but the locals could only watch helplessly as the gang took over the nice car.

The young superhero Tardigirl was diligently making her after-school rounds when a summoning cry of distress and disruption beckoned someone of her talents to intervene. Hero work! She realized, immediately preparing herself for the inevitable confrontation. Dashing through a barren parking lot and around a boarded-up convenience store, Aisha was confronted by the egregious sight of a crime in progress.

Coming from the left of the car, the first thing she noticed was the middle-aged individual looking rather wrinkled and distraught as he sat sprawled onto the pavement. Although bruised and battered, a quick sideways glance revealed that he was not in any need of medical assistance.

More alarming, however, was the gun-toting thug about to enter and start the car while his associates manhandled a limp (unconscious?) teenager into the back of the expensive car. Maybe a father and his son? Either way, it's pretty obvious that they intend to ransom the kid, so he should be in no immediate danger unless the gang starts feeling as though their mission is threatened. My best option is to take them out quickly using the element of surprise, starting with the gun.

Rushing towards the armed man inside the car door (making sure to angle herself so that no part of the criminal was obscured by the vehicle), Aisha threw a trio of rapid-fire feints from her left arms towards his face, attempting to distract him while she brought her leg up in a swift, merciless kick to his crotch.

The punks stealing the car were not exactly the hardened criminals they made themselves out to be. Distracted by all the other potential loot inside, they were caught off guard by Aisha.

Satisfied with his loot from the old man, the gunman went to the driver's seat, put his gun into his pocket and took time to admire their prize. He barely noticed Aisha running at him, and was doubled over with the groin kick.

"Get her! Get out and get her!" Their leader shouted towards his flunkies, and the rest of the punks scramble to get out of the car. They were confronting Aisha with knives and brass knuckles. "Stupid hero. You don't know who you're messing with." they threatened, all too eager to fight.

their leader guarding their hostage and the goons focused on Aisha, they would not see the flanking attack.

Alejandra had been expecting the rolls royce, but she did not expect it to be held up so soon after arriving. Brutus was alert and ready, and Alejandra pointed at the goons. "Scare em off boy. SCARE!" She let loose this dog of war, and Brutus sprinted on all fours towards them car.

The sight of a massive 300 pound dog suddenly leaping into the car, barking and biting at him, caused their leader, Josef, to demonstrate agility he'd never shown before, leaping out of the middle of the passenger seat in a single move. "AAAHHAAHHH! WHAT THE FUQ- !!!"

"BARK BARK BARK BARK!" switching his attention to the armed threats, Brutus went and sunk his teeth into a knife wielder's arm. The shock and pain made him drop his weapon, and Brutus harried the rest. The punks lose their nerve - fuck that's a huge dog! - and disperse, helping their wounded mate and their leader who'd pissed himself, to flee.

Alejandra was right behind, sprinting but such was the violence of the attack that it was over. "...Hey you alright?!" She asked Aisha, then looked at Brutus. "Boy, sit! sit." Brutus obeyed, and calmed down. He panted happily, though his jaws were filled with some blood.

Satisfied that her underhanded (or rather, underfooted) attack had succeeded, Aisha took a deft step back to reassess the situation, crouching and raising her fists in anticipation of a fight.

However, she did not get much of one at all. While focused on the immediate threat of several goons carrying various melee weapons, she remained aware of the rest of the street and was suitably surprised when an attractive young woman wearing practical black armor appeared, and even more astonished when a massive black dog leapt onto the scene, viciously making quick work of the would-be kidnappers, who hastily scurried away after being confronted by such an intimidating creature.

"...Hey you alright?!" asked the woman, who upon closer inspection, didn't look much older than Aisha did.
"Yeah, I'm fine," the younger hero responded coolly, attempting to obfuscate that she was still mildly stunned by their rather bombastic entrance. After a slight pause, staring at the mismatched duo, Tardigirl remembered the boy who had been the victim of the very crime they stopped.

Striding purposefully towards the back of the car, Aisha poked her head in, immediately recognizing him.

Jacob? She remembered how her classmate had suddenly had to move to Louisiana, something to do with family business. Aisha just hadn't realized how wealthy that family apparently was. Shaking her head, the young hero reached over, checking his pulse and body for damage.

Coming to the conclusion that the only injury Jacob had suffered was a possible concussion and a nasty bruise, Tardigirl lifted the boy up using her six arms, making sure to delicately cradle his head.
"He's okay, just unconscious," she called out to the other hero with the giant dog.

((She’s not in armor btw, just street clothes))

“Come on, this isn’t a good place I’ve got a safe place where we can talk.”


Nuns with Buns Bakeshop

It was small, sassy and innocuous place with a funny name. Nuns with Buns was situated on a service road, so it saw very little foot traffic, so no one thought it strange when two street heroes and a dog brought in an unconscious young man.

The inside of the bakery was only sparsely decorated, having only a couple of tables for waiting, and had rows of shelves filled with loaf bread and pastries. Two young nuns were bringing baskets of freshly baked pastries from the kitchen. Alejandra pulled out a chair to set Jacob down gently.

An older nun, much taller than her two young contemporaries, and having an eyepatch, greeted the two as they barged in. In her hand she carried a desert eagle, though she lowered it immediately upon recognizing Alejandra. “Oh, ‘elow luv. It’s just you.” She puts away the desert eagle, stowing it inside her habit. “What brings ya so noisily here?”

Alejandra sighed in relief. She wondered if she pulled that gun regular customers sometimes. “Sister Bernadette. This is Jacob Delapore, he was due to come in today.” She explained.

“Ah, I was wonderin’ when he’d arrive.” She went over behind the counter and fetched a first aid kit. She tosses it to them, and Alejandra quickly gets to work cleaning up Jacob’s injuries, and setting out some smelling salts.

“And this is… uh…” Alejandra felt a pang of embarrassment when she forgot to ask Aisha’s name. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your name?”

Once the smelling salts were applied, Jacob awoke coughing and gagging. He looked around in a daze, though he quickly recognized his childhood friend.“Aisha? Is that you mon petit? Where… am I?” he was the same old Jacob, if only a bit older, and a bit more southern in the accent.

Oh, fuck, Aisha thought, mortified at the possibility of having her cover blown. While her lifestyle didn't exactly necessitate a secret identity, it was traditional for a teenage hero, wasn't it? Additionally, her classmates finding out that she had six arms wasn't exactly a priority on her bucket list.

"Well, my name certainly isn't Aisha! What kind of superhero name would that be?" The novice hero chuckled nervously, striking a confident pose and affecting a deeper, bolder tone of voice.
"I'm the tardigrade-themed hero Tardigirl!"

"And, uh, who are you? And your sister nuns?" She posited, gaze returning to the girl with the over-sized hound.
"Why is Jacob here, and why is he here?" Aisha also wondered what a nun was doing with a pistol (let alone pointing it at anyone who came through the door), but she decided not to comment.

Alejandra sat at the table across from Jacob, giving Brutus some chin scritches. Brutus gave out a big yawn, revealing his metallic teeth, then going over to give Aisha a sniff. His big wet nose pressed against her hand, then trying to rub his head against her hand, dog speak for “scratch my ears”.
“Brutus thinks you’re nice.” Alejandra smiled, seeing this old dog’s sweet side.

“Aaanyway. My name is Alejandra. And this is sister superior Bernadette St. Croix. She's the nun with a gun, running Nuns with Buns.” She laughs out loud, and gestured to the old gun toting nun, who came over with a tray of tea and scones. "We're a division within the church who deal with... issues."

“It’s tea time luv, do sit and have a cup.” She said, her accent originating Bernadette from the British Isles. As she served, it was obvious that one hand was cybernetic, and inside her habit, one eye was covered by an eyepatch. And considering her gun, Bernadette must’ve had a very storied life. Then she set out a bowl of something brown and meat-smelling for the big dog. Brutus naturally, abandons her new friend for the chow.

“Oh. Ooohh.” Jacob gave Aisha a smile. “Ah yes. Tardigirl. You just really reminded me of a close friend I had who I went to school with when I was young.”

He took a sip of the Yorkshire tea to compose himself, gathering his story together as he rubbed his aching head. “I need help you see. My father took ill and passed away so suddenly last month and… and… he willed the estate to me but my uncle tried to kill me! Tried to shoot me, he did.”

“That’s terrible. And you didn’t call the police?” Alejandra asked, taking a big bite of the buttery goodness.

“They won’t touch him, their pockets are lined with his money. That’s why I need help from outside… from people I can count on.” He looked at the women at the table. “Would you help me? I… I don’t know what to do. I… I have no wish to be a kinslayer.”  He said, and it really did show, he was out of his depth.

“Sounds like a right and proper cunt he does, your uncle.” Bernadette weighed in frankly.

“Tardigirl, what’s your take? I mean… this sounds like a domestic affair. I think if we contacted state police or FBI… instead of the local county…” Alejandra mused, then asked their new ally.

Aisha giggled at receiving Brutus' attention, making sure to comply with his demand for ear scratchies. Listening to Alejandra, she sat down next to her while doting on the friendly hound, who was rapidly whisked away by the lure of something brown and meat-smelling. Tardigirl wasn't shy to allow her attention to become diverted by food either, lifting her helmet to expose her lips as she took a mouthful of tea.

This also gave Aisha a second to appraise the weapon-wielding nun, who had traded out her gun for a tea tray. She couldn't help but notice that besides the habit, Bernadette looked nothing like she'd expect from a nun. But in all honesty, she rather preferred the eyepatch and prosthetic hand; with the additional presence of the gun, the young hero got the impression that she was in the presence of a heavily-historied veteran.

Aisha nodded appreciatively as Jacob grasped the situation, listening raptly to his tale.
"You want us to kill your uncle?" She asked incredulously, finding it hard to believe that the gentle boy she remembered would be willing to send hitwomen after his relative.
"And if he has enough money to bribe the officials, why would he need the estate?"