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Murder Moves to Suprenum

Chapter 1

By Draconicon

Mato Kiyoshi joined the other passengers disembarking the passenger liner arriving from the western side of the Mediterranean, and the crow's feathers reflected the mid-morning sun to the point that the passengers behind him shaded their eyes and looked away as he walked down the gangplank. With one suitcase tucked under his arm and a travel bag hanging on the opposite side, he trundled along, keeping his head down as the captain called over the intercom.

"Thank you for choosing us for your journey. If you're staying for leisure, file to your left. If you're returning home or staying for longer than a week, file to your right. And thank you again for choosing us for your transportation needs."

Mato shook his head as he reached the bottom of the gangplank. The overwhelming majority of passengers veered to the left, heading for the customs offices that even from here looked half-abandoned. No surprise; if there was anywhere on the planet that could deal with something bad getting through, it was here.

As he joined the smaller group heading right, he looked at the city itself. Suprenum loomed taller than the resort town it had displaced ever had, newly-built apartment blocks made of advanced-shaped and super-forged steel and concrete towering over the harbor. Past them, he could make out the swarms of drones that formed and split and reformed as they delivered packages to and fro across the city, as well as the rare advanced air-car that was one of the many amazing features that the city boasted to have.

He'd just managed to look past the towering sea-side buildings towards the city center, a swathe of smaller but more artful buildings constructed with curves rather than straight lines, before he was pushed along with the rest of the crowd into the immigration center. Once more, they were sorted between those that were staying long-term and those that were just having a longer vacation. He joined those that were coming home and those that were moving here, shuffling from side to side as the line moved slowly.

"Next." Click. Thump. Chatter.

"Next." Click. Thump. Chatter. Thump. Beep.

A guard was called, and the red wolf standing at the head of the line was led away. Not roughly, Mato was relieved to see, but still firmly no matter how gentle the rat security guard was.

"Next."

That was him. The crow stepped up to the plastic-enclosed booth, sliding his passport and work visa beneath the barrier. As the toad officer took them and scanned the barcodes on both, Mato glanced after the red wolf. The rat had already taken him out of the building and sent him packing back to the passenger liner. That could have been him. Might have been, if the visa hadn't come in. Might still be, if they didn't accept it.

"Mr. Kiyoshi?" the toad asked.

"Yes?"

"You're attempting to immigrate to Suprenum, it says."

"That's correct, yes."

"And your visa is from..."

"Bonifacio Industries," he said, clamping down on the ever-present urge to over-explain. "They approved my visa last week."

"And you waited a week to get here because..."

"It was a long trip by ship."

He half-expected a question about why he didn't fly in or rent a car to drive. The answer was simple: he couldn't afford it. All his funds were tied up in getting him here, enough money to eat and get around for a week, and hoping that the visa would pay off.

After all, Bonifacio Industries visas were different from work visas in other parts of the world. They weren't paying him to come here to work for them, nor even guaranteeing a job. Bonifacio Industries merely made it possible to get here. What happened afterward was up to the person that made the trip.

The toad looked at the visa again, and Mato told himself that he was just imagining that the officer was looking for a reason to decline his entry. He refused to fidget, stiffening his legs and trying to stand up that little bit straighter. They were not going to send him back. They couldn't.

"What kind of work are you looking for?" the toad asked.

"Is that a trick question?" he responded before he could stop himself.

"Look, kid, either answer or get out of line."

"They only sponsor one kind of -"

"Answer or get out of the line. I have too many people to get through to play games."

"But not too many to make a super wait?"

It was the toad's turn to stiffen up after that, but he didn't care. Hell, he felt like he deserved a bit more than that. Mato leaned in.

"That's right. I'm a super. Only supers get a Bonifacio visa."

"Back up, sir."

He did, but only because the toad called him 'sir.' It was a step up from kid, at least.

The officer gave the visa and his passport another look-over, then checked his computer. The grimace on his face made it clear that the records were all there, that they always had been there, but he hadn't bothered looking. Mato kept his beak shut, but only barely.

"Fine. Looks like you're clear." The immigration officer nodded to himself, printing off a few documents. "Here's your city map. Here's your authorization for an apartment for the next week while you look for a job. And here's your visa and passport."

"Thanks," he made himself say as he took them back. Wasn't so hard, was it? he wanted to say, but he had the good sense to keep that back. This time, anyway. Getting his head beat in last time he said that to someone in authority had taught him that much.

"One last thing."

"What's that?"

"What's the other name? They didn't put that into your records."

"...Murder."

For once, there was no quip, no response other than a gasp and a quick lean back from the plastic barrier. Mato chuckled, pocketing his paperwork and shouldering his bags again before stepping around the booth. No guard stopped him, and the toad looked too scared to call him back.

It was a good feeling after the rest of the bullshit.

From there, the only delay was picking up his other suitcase on the other side of immigration. The massive wheeled behemoth of a suitcase waited off to the side, watched over by another security guard that had no interest in giving it back to him without proof of who he was. Ten minutes of arguing and multiple temptations to use his powers later, Mato had his stuff and was outside again, this time on the right side of the coastline. He leaned his head back and stared up at the Suprenum skyline, and despite himself, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Finally."

The crow heard the low rumble that every video that had ever come out of Suprenum always had, and he grinned so hard it hurt as he turned in the direction it came from. A blur whipped around one of the apartment buildings - or had it come from one of the windows - and shot through the sky overhead. The air cracked and rippled behind the barely-seen silhouette, following it down and over the street. Windows across the street wobbled but didn't break, and the cracks and strains that would have battered the shops of ordinary cities never showed.

As the flier disappeared around the corner, rising up in the air again, Mato shook his head in awe. That was why he was here. That was why anyone that got the good news from Bonifacio Industries came here: Suprenum was the City of Heroes, the only place in the world where people begged them to come rather than chased them off.

He pulled the map out of his pocket, quickly locating where he was. When he had the funds to buy a phone and a cheap plan, that was right up there with priorities, but for now, paper maps were his only option. He traced the route from here to the apartment he'd been assigned - The Fifth Bonifacio, one of the big ones built out here on the coast - and was happy to see that it was only ten minutes away. Smiling, he orientated himself toward it and set off.

#

The Fifth Bonifacio was thirty stories tall, more like an office building than an apartment complex, and deceptively built to look even bigger than it was. Each floor was, at minimum, fifteen feet tall from floor to ceiling, and some were even larger to accommodate the larger supers in the city. The lobby, a long, stretched-out room with a café on one side, a mail room on the other, and elevators at the far end, was better-cleaned than most hotels he'd seen, with a red carpet down the middle, tiled floors everywhere else, and elephant busts and statues everywhere along the walls.

He had barely stepped through when a gruff voice called him to a halt. Mato jumped, looking down at the kneeling shape just in and to the right of the front door.

"Should've knocked," the pit bull muttered, voice as growly as his species' reputation. "Who're you?"

"Mato Kiyoshi. New resident."

"Mmmph. Murder, right?"

"How -"

"Building manager." The pit bull grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, knees popping as he stood up straight. "Codrin."

They shook hands, and the pit bull nodded back to the elevators, heading off at a brisk pace. Mato barely managed to grab his bags and follow before the pit bull reached the elevators and called them down. The older man looked over his shoulder impatiently, grunting under his breath before looking back at the door. The crow barely caught up before the elevator arrived, hurrying after the canine landlord before the doors could close on him.

"What's the hurry?" he muttered.

"Work. Lots to do."

"I thought you said you were the manager."

"Manager. Overall landlord. Handyman. Lots of titles." Codrin shrugged. "Do what you have to."

"Uh-huh. Do you, uh..."

"Powers? No."

"Then how -"

"Doesn't take powers to balance books."

"But what about -"

"Bad tenants?" Codrin smiled, and for a moment, the scarred pit bull showed quite a few fangs. Two at the front were gold, obviously fake, but the rest were just as sharp as any younger dog's, and quite a bit more practiced. "Don't need powers for that, either."

"..."

"Scared?"

"Uh...nah, nah." Yes. Kinda. "I can take it."

"You planning to be bad?"

"Wha - no, that's not -"

"Then we won't have problems."

Ding. The elevator reached the seventeenth floor, and the pit bull led him out of the little metal box before he could say anything else. Despite the fact that he was taller than the dog by a good six inches and the other man's declaration of being normal while he himself was a super, Mato felt like he was the one more at risk. He couldn't shake the feeling, and he hated it.

Was this pit bull secretly a super, perhaps? He didn't seem to be showing any powers, but if someone wasn't outright using them or possessed of a power that made itself obvious, it was easy enough to hide that you had them. Maybe he was just trying to make a tempting target for anyone that happened to be more of a villain? Or maybe there really weren't any powers to deal with, and it was just the nature of his species that made him more intimidating?

They reached his apartment door - six down from the elevator - and Codrin pulled a keycard from his waist. He slid it through a card-reader attached to his phone, then passed it to the crow.

"Here. Don't lose."

"What happens if I do?"

"Don't. Expensive."

"...Sure."

"Room 1716. Yours for the week. First payment due in a week to keep it."

"And...how much is that?"

"$800 a month."

"...Reasonable enough."

"Upgrades for $1,800 and $3,000 a month. Talk later. More work."

The pit bull patted him on the shoulder and pushed past, heading back to the elevator. Mato watched him go, shaking his head before sliding his keycard against the door. It clicked open and he stepped inside.

It wasn't much of an apartment. The bedroom and living room were the same room, with the bathroom right by the front door, much like a hotel room. There was a separate nook for cooking and eating, at least, and better, a washing and drying machine in the unit, but it was more or less a studio apartment.

Starting to see why there'd be upgrades...

Shutting the door behind him, he tossed his stuff onto the bed and sat at the foot of it. Not much to be said for the place, though it was, at least, better to have a place at all. A lot of immigrants would have struggled to find one so quickly. At least he had one for a week while he was setting himself up, giving him a roof over his head, internet, and somewhere to wash his clothes and himself while he was looking for a job.

A job. That was going to be the hard part.

He shook his head as he remembered reading the fine print after the visa came in. It didn't give him a job, per se, but it did give him a reference while he went seeking jobs. Suprenum was the city of supers, but the fine print revealed that there were only so many super-power-using jobs available.

That was fine, as far as he was concerned. He had a good superpower, and that meant that he could get a good job. That was the long and short of it.

Mato looked out the window, glancing down at the coastline and the ship that he'd left behind. It felt like he'd left his life behind, and he rather liked that idea. It hadn't been that good a life, anyway. Not compared to the one that stretched ahead of him now.

A life of paperwork, of pretending to be just one more bird in the flock. Why do that, when I can be a murder of crows all on my own?

Mato smiled. Perhaps it was time to indulge just a bit. After all, the rules of the city said that he could use his powers here. No point in not enjoying that a bit.

He focused on himself, pulling at every specific detail that he could notice. His shirt against his shoulders, the fluffed, slightly tight feeling of his feathers being pushed down at the small of his back, the way that no shirt entirely fit around his tailfeathers and he always felt like he was needing to fix it. He thought about the way his pants fitted around his hips, how they were always too tight in the waist and too loose in the thighs and the calves. He thought about his shoes, how they weren't measured properly for bird talons. He thought about his muscles and the way they ached from the long walk here, and he thought about how it felt to be him.

And then, he took all those feelings, and he imagined putting them in each hand. He imagined two exact copies, one in each palm, and then visualized pulling them apart.

It came with the same odd dividing feeling, like coming apart from the middle outward, like someone poking a hole out of a doughball before splitting the dough in two. The feeling didn't match the visual, he knew from experience. If he'd had a mirror in front of him, he would have seen the second crow just slowly flowing out of the first, eventually becoming fully distinct, but it always felt like something splitting from his core.

And then, it was done. It didn't take that much energy to break himself apart like that, and if he had time, he could make a lot of clones. Once, he'd made a full one-hundred crows, just to see if he could. That had been...an experience, particularly when they all came back together.

The two crows turned to look at each other. Mato nodded back at the bed, and Mato nodded back.

The crows stripped quickly, both of them of the same mind. They'd been cooped up on a ship for four days sailing here with little in the way of company. Using their powers hadn't been an option on the boat, and so, this hadn't been an option. Their hand had been all the pleasure that they had recourse to. Now, however...

As soon as they were naked, the crows were in position. The original Mato leaned back against the headboard, while the clone looked up at him with raised eye-feathers.

"Not fair."

"You stripped slower."

"We're the same crow."

"I was more ready. Now, suck."

"You know we're bad at that."

"Not for ourselves."

"Ugh. Fine."

It was true, though. They weren't the best at giving oral; their beaks got in the way of sucking someone else off properly, and their tongue wasn't long enough to push past it by more than an inch or two. But that was still enough to tease the head.

Mato leaned back, his slender legs spread wide and his talons curling as soon as he got the first little lap along the head of his cock. As soon as his pants had hit the floor he'd been as erect as he could get, and now, he was eagerly thrusting forward, grinding along his clone's tongue.

"Mmmph...that's it..."

His clone rolled his eyes, much as he knew he would have been doing in the same situation, much as he would be doing in the future when the clone slipped back inside him. He'd see it from both sides, then, and -

And that was for later. For now, sex.

He spread his legs a bit further as his clone leaned in closer, one hand going down between his legs and rubbing around his rim. It wasn't the first time that he had been fucked by a clone, nor the first time that he might be ridden by one. It was just...easier, fucking himself, and more fun.

"Heh...gonna...just ram it in, are you?"

"Heh...hardly..."

"Mmmph...come on..."

"We have to have energy for job-hunting tomorrow."

"Fuck..."

"So, I'll bottom this time...but you get it next time."

"You're a clone...I'll be doing everything next time, just like I'm doing this time."

His clone shook his head, but was already moving up with a smile. It didn't take long before he felt his own feathered ass pressed against his cock, and he groaned as he grabbed himself.

He really didn't look half-bad. Decent cock at just under eight inches, feathered balls, a nice ass that had some muscle to it. He spread the cheeks, feeling the slight wrinkles and stretch that his pucker had, and he smiled as much as a beak allowed.

"Ready?"

"You were," his clone said.

"Then let's get started..."

The End

Summary: A hero moves to the City of Heroes, hoping to start a new life. It's a little bit tricky, but at least he's there now.

Tags: M/solo, M/M, Clone, Crow, Various Species, Pit Bull, Superheroes, Superpowers, Series, Oral, Nudity, Anal, Selfcest,