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Meeting the Curator

By Draconicon

The Mighty Hare had a problem, and the clock was running out to solve it. As he rested against one of the gargoyles on the edge of the city cathedral, he hoped that anyone down below would just think that he was brooding over some heroic task. In reality, he was on the verge of a panic attack, and he had no clear solution of how to stop it from happening.

"A supervillain in the first week...how the hell is this fair?" he muttered to himself. "I didn't even file my name yet...god...fuck..."

The first week for a hero should have been occupied by the most basic crimes. He should have been dealing with bank robberies, the occasional mugging, or some carjacking. Hell, he could have handled those; super strength combined with the natural speed of a rabbit meant that he could keep up with cars without too much trouble, and the average thug couldn't stand up to a punch from him. Might have cost him a bit in court, yeah, but heroes had some leeway as long as they were licensed and -

Fuck. He was going down the rabbit hole. Shaking his head, he pressed his hands to his temples and tried to think.

The Mighty Hare had been challenged by a villain that, like so many just starting, had been completely insane. He left playing cards as a calling card - who did that anymore? - and had turned the Ace of Spades into a skull. He claimed to have stolen several people that were at the coffee shop that the Mighty Hare frequented every morning, and that they would be found dead if the Hare didn't show up with a hundred thousand dollars.

Except, the Mighty Hare didn't have a hundred thousand dollars. Hell, the Mighty Hare had nothing. Zed had maybe thirty until the next stipend came in from the city, and even that would only give him fifteen-hundred for the next two weeks. The city paid its heroes absolute shit, but most of them made it work with some sort of sponsorship. They weren't law enforcement, exactly, after all, and that meant that they were more open to other things and he hadn't been approached by anyone just yet and -

Fuck! He had to keep it together. He needed something, anything, or this stupid asshole was going to kill three people that he didn't even know that well. Barely knew the barista, and even then only because she'd been there every morning.

Zed pressed his hands tighter to his head until he felt the world start spinning. At first, he was afraid that he'd popped something by squeezing his own skull too tight, but no, no, there was nothing to worry about there. He was just falling. Falling rather fast, actually.

The crash sent a plume of concrete up as he ended it with a desperate punch, cratering the ground and putting out enough force to keep from knocking himself out. He stumbled out of it, more than a few civilians looking down at the crazed rabbit with raised eyebrows and shaking frames.

"Uh...nothing wrong here, citizens," he said, deepening his voice as he'd heard most of the other experienced heroes do. "Just nodded off a bit. I'll, uh, report the hole to the city and have them cover that as soon as possible, I promise."

Nobody questioned him. Then again, questioning a rabbit that was four and a half feet tall that had nonetheless managed to punch a hole ten feet across through solid concrete seemed a pretty stupid idea, even to him.

Pulling his cape in around his dusty purple costume, the Mighty Hare kicked the ground. It expanded the hole by another three feet, but it also launched him a good fifty feet in the air and sent him flying forward at the same time. From there, he just had to keep hitting the ground just before he landed, and he was able to move faster without risking further damage to the concrete.

He had to find someone that knew the business better than he did, someone that could tell him what you did when you got in over your head like this. There was only one place for that, and he just hoped that there was someone already there at noon. Considering it was a bar, he knew his odds of finding someone sober were pretty low, but at the moment, that worked in his favor. Someone sober wouldn't really care about some newbie hero's problems. Someone drunk, on the other hand, might be just emotional enough to give him more than the time of day. And he needed so much more than that.

As he stepped through the insulated rubber doorway, Zed picked through the empty tables and occupied chairs, checking, discarding, and measuring the few supers that were both around in the middle of the day and both sober enough to talk to him while being drunk enough not to look down on him. He immediately dismissed the unconscious elephant in the corner of the room, as well as the zebra bartender that gave him one raised eyebrow before moving on. The striped donkey that was just stumbling out of the back room was making his way to the front door, likely ready to head out on patrol - though he'd never seen the man here before - and the vixen at the bar was far too sober for him to risk mentioning this shit to.

Eventually, his eyes settled on a bear that was half-slumped over his table, a credit card with a corporate logo on the table beside him. He had three glasses by his hand, and his features were steady enough as he waved at the bartender for something more. Best of all, Zed recognized him, and heaved a sigh of relief as he put a name to the older hero.

A grizzly bear that went by the name Almanac, the ursine hero had been one of the few knowledge-based heroes of the old generation. Little more than a sidekick until the hero buzz started settling down and people started requiring things of them beyond big flashy fights, he remembered the stories of Almanac coming into his own with his encyclopedic knowledge. Born of an eidetic memory combined with being able to keep information in his head from any book he touched - just touched, not even needing to read it - he had become a law professor overnight. He knew everything that was worth knowing, and considering there were rumors that he worked either at the city courthouse or at City Hall to make up the money for his bills, he probably knew a good bit about civilian life.

Even further to the point, Almanac was a walking encyclopedia about every super villain and hero of the last generation, and most of the current one, and that was what he needed right now. He walked over to the half-drunk grizzly's table, holding up his hand against the sparkling gold outfit the ursine super wore, and turned it into a wave as the older man looked his way.

"Uh, hi. Almanac?"

"Hey, kid. Whatcha want?"

"I, um, was wondering if you had a moment to give a new guy some advice."

"Heh, always up for that. Don't want that entry up here to get too short, right?" the bear asked, tapping his head. "Come on, sit down. You want something?"

"Just some advice. I just, um, need to do something. By sunset."

"Ahhhh, one of those, eh? Hey, hey, barkeep!" The zebra looked up at the bear's shout. "Cancel that last order. Get me some coffee."

"Sir, I -"

"Kid, trust me. Not all of us are assholes. Some of us actually want to be replaced by you new guys."

It was the first time that someone more experienced had said that. He shut his mouth as the zebra brought a cup of coffee over to the table along with a vial of something that looked blacker than black. The bartender arched an eyebrow at Almanac, who nodded, and the equine upended the vial into the drink, giving it a couple of stirs.

"Drink fast," he said before walking off.

"Ugh, I hate this part."

"What -"

Zed's question was interrupted by the answer as Almanac chugged the coffee and whatever the bartender had put in it in one go. As soon as the bear swallowed, he went through a full-body shake, almost falling out of his chair. He leaned forward, cupping a hand over his mouth, showing all the signs of someone that was about to lose their lunch and everything else that they'd taken in that day. He leaned back from the table, half-expecting the mother of all messes to be let loose at his feet.

Yet, it didn't. After a few seconds, the shaking stopped, and the grizzly bear sat up again, his facial fur matted down from a layer of sweat.

"Fuck, I hate that...I hate fast-tracking sobriety."

"How -"

"Stripy's power. Don't ask. Now...oof." Almanac shook his head, pushing the mug away. "Gimme a second. I'll be right as rain, and then I can tell you what you need to know."

"I...you sure?"

"Kid, you came for advice, and from that look you're giving me, you don't exactly got a lot of time to get it. Let's ask the important questions, huh?"

"...Right. Sorry."

Taking a deep breath, he laid out the situation. He mentioned every detail that he could remember, from the three coffee-house staff members that had been kidnapped, their store location, their relationship to him (none, he stressed) and the calling card. He even took it out of his suit pocket and passed it across the table, letting Almanac get a good look at the handwriting and 'art' alterations to the card. The bear tapped it a few times, and it took him a second to realize that the hero was using his power to see if there was any further information. He held his breath, hoping that the other man would be able to give him a secret way out of this.

Instead, Almanac sighed.

"Well, I got information, but you're not gonna like it, kid."

"Anything's better than nothing, right?"

"Depends. You want to hear you're going up against someone big?"

"...Not really..."

"Then I can at least tell you that you're not. Ain't anyone big and established that's stupid enough to leave something like this behind," the bear said, even as Zed's heart finally started again after that fake-out. The grizzly pushed the card back. "But I was able to get a name. He must have written it and blocked it out after. It's kinda ridiculous."

"What is it?"

"The Gamer."

"...Yeah. That's pretty dumb," Zed said. "Doesn't make me feel better, though."

"Yeah, I know. Who wants to be beaten by someone called that? Or worse, killed by someone with that kind of name?"

Almanac sighed, even as Zed did his best to keep from letting his terror show on his face. So, he had a name, but the baddie wasn't very well-established, which meant that they weren't that good. Hopefully. They might just be new in town, but if they were that new, they shouldn't have been able to kidnap someone so fast, right? And why would they -

"Hey, kid. Rabbit-holing?" the bear asked.

"Huh?"

"You look like you're thinking yourself into a hole, there."

"...Kinda. Sorry." He shook his head. "Oh, god, how am I going to fix this?"

"...Hate to tell ya, but this is one of those with no good options."

"I don't have the money that he wants. I don't think anyone like me does. I mean, I could go and fight him, but - I mean, when he hears that I don't have the money, what's to stop him from killing them? What if I'm responsible for that?"

"That's the problem with hero work, kid. We have to think about that...and sometimes, we don't have everything that we need to take the bad guys down." Almanac shook his head, tapping the table with one clawed finger. "And sometimes...well, we have to do things that we don't want to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember how I said there are no good options?"

"Yeah?"

"She's the least worst."

"Who?"

"Look. Kid." Almanac turned in his chair, leaning forward. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret. We all find out about her eventually, but usually, we got a few wins under our belts. We have a little more confidence, have a little more respect before we have to make our choice here. But considering the circumstances...well, I think you need to be the one to make that choice, not me."

He didn't know what the bear was talking about, but the seriousness of the situation wasn't lost on him. Even though nobody else knew what they were saying, the gentle tone in Almanac's voice had been stiffened by something. Something with an edge. Fear? Or something else?

It didn't matter. If it gave him a way to fix this, then he'd need to hear it at least. He leaned forward.

"Who are you talking about?" he asked.

"I'm talking about the Curator. Ever heard of her?" Zed shook his head, and Almanac did, too. "Didn't think so. She's not as public as the rest of us."

"She's a hero, then?"

"No, but she is a super...a super pain-in-the-ass, but a super. And...technically on the other side, if you want to get into the registration part of it."

"You want me to -"

"Hold on and let me explain it before you go flying off the handle, kid. If you want to save these guys, she's your best option. Or least worst, depending on how you look at it. You want to hear about her or not?"

"Sorry." He nodded. "Sorry. Tell me."

"She's not on most records, but she doesn't have the same rap sheet as most criminals that go into the super-business. Doesn't have much of anything on the official records, far as I've been able to tell, but that's because she's that good at what she does. Nobody finds out anything that she doesn't want them to know, and nobody gets anything out of her she doesn't want to give."

"So...why are you sending me to her?"

"I'm not. I'm giving you an option."

"But why? What could a villain give me?"

"Kid, you're going to find this out eventually, but let me tell you something that it takes too many people too long to find out. Sometimes, doing the right thing means signing a deal with the devil. And sometimes, it means doing something that you think a hero shouldn't." Almanac sighed, reaching for his empty coffee cup and looking into it. "But ain't that what being a hero's about? Putting yourself out there so someone else doesn't have to?"

Zed looked down at his lap. He didn't know what to make of the whole situation, but if this Curator could actually help him...or better yet, help the people that had been kidnapped...

"Where is she?" he asked.

"Go down to the Wire Frame Gallery. Ask for Mrs. C. They'll know who you mean."

"And then?"

"Then, it'll be up to her..."

Zed showed up as the Mighty Hare at the Wire Frame Gallery, just as Almanac had suggested. The security guards had barely given him a glance when he asked for 'Mrs. C.,' one of the bulls nodding and heading off while the other offered to take him to the back room to wait. He even offered a cup of coffee. The civility was off-putting, to say the least.

He remained in the lobby. Sure, it was uncomfortable waiting for him to be stared at as if he were an attraction in the gallery, but he didn't trust anyone in a villain's employ. He crossed his arms, doing his best not to tap his feet in fear of sending shockwaves through the ground in his nervousness. Every few seconds, he felt the urge to look at the clock on the wall and barely stopped himself, only for the urge to hit him again and again as he waited for the Curator to show up. Every wasted second felt like another wasted moment that he could have spent chasing down the kidnapper.

The white walls and slender-framed paintings all around him were feeling like a prison cell when the sound of a throat clearing finally pulled him out of his own head. He turned to the source of it, only to freeze in place.

A female panther stood directly behind him, standing an inch or two taller than the tips of his ears and more than capable of looking down at her. She had leopard spots and features in her face, with sharp white teeth that showed their tips as she smiled down at him. A purple dress clung just beneath her breasts, highlighting them to a rather distractible degree, and did the same for her hips. He blushed as he looked down and away, clearing his throat in turn as she chuckled.

"I...You are Mrs. C, yes?" he asked.

"That would be me, yes. And you are the Mighty Hare, I hear."

"...I guess my reputation precedes me?"

"Hmmm, only somewhat. Come. We should talk in private, little hero." Her eyes flicked up and down his body, and her smile grew, much to his discomfiture. "Somewhere very private."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Mmm, little hero, let's not forget who came to who. You want something from me, and in return, I'll want something from you." The panther chuckled. "Now, come with me, if you actually plan to get anything from me. I doubt that you want any negotiations with my sort to be public, do you, hmmm?"

Zed hoped his nervous gulp wasn't too obvious and followed her through the halls of the art gallery. She led the way, her hips swaying just enough to look like a flirtatious motion rather than something completely natural, and the rabbit forced his eyes up rather than letting them rest down there. Almanac hadn't mentioned what her power was, but he doubted that it was anything good. Villains were sneakier about how they used their abilities than heroes were. Some of them, at least; the ones that weren't busy using fire and lightning to knock down doors, anyway.

As they walked further into the gallery, he was ever more aware of the nature of the pictures on the wall. Some of them were of landscapes, and some were of vaguely modern styles that looked like they needed a little interpretation to make sense, but by and large, they were portraits and impressionist pieces, both incredibly detailed and just fuzzy enough to leave one wondering if they had seen everything. They blended together to create things that were incredibly unreal, but at the same time, he swore he recognized some of the portraits.

They reached the office at the back of the building, and the panther held the door open. He walked past her, half-expecting some horrible dungeon of a room, but instead, it was a simple white-walled square with a simple wooden desk painted black and two chairs. As soon as the Curator shut the door, she gestured for him to take a seat, and after a moment's hesitation, he did.

"Now, let's talk. You want my help with something," she said, circling around the desk, drawing a line along the pristine top with a finger. "Do you know what my help costs?"

"Can't you do it just to do the right thing?"

"The right thing does nothing for me. Oh, a little altruism here and there keeps the other heroes off my back, that's true, but you're not one of the big names. Not yet. But you might be, one day."

"...Are you flattering me?"

"No, just explaining why you're getting my time to begin with. I don't meet with everyone, and I still have to see if you're worth it to begin with."

She sat down across from him, folding her hands together and leaning forward until her chin rested on them. The Curator's eyes glinted, and her black fur made her hard to look away from in the white-walled room. She smiled.

"Now. What do you want from me? Because that will determine the price."

Zed looked down. Every bone in his body told him to get out of there while he still could, but Almanac had been right. There were times when you had to be a hero and make the hard choice. The hard choice right then was staying where he was rather than tearing out after them on his own. If he did that because he was afraid now, someone could die. He needed to do this right, and if that meant getting help from a villain? Well, he'd find a way to get her help.

"Three people were kidnapped. I don't know them, but the bad guy thinks I do. He asked for money -"

"But you're not here for a loan, unless I miss my guess?"

"...No."

"You want to know who it is."

"...Yes."

"And where they are."

"Yes."

"And, hopefully, what they can do, so you can surprise them before time runs out."

He nodded. The Curator leaned back, tapping her thumbs together as she hummed to herself. The rabbit didn't look up at her; he was too busy feeling pathetic for even asking. How would she -

"This is your first week, yes?"

"Yes -"

"And you've foiled two robberies and one carjacking in that time?"

"I - how did you -"

"Yes or no, Mr. Mighty Hare?"

"...Yes."

"For a hero whose only power is strength, you combine speed and power together very well, and you have a powerfully developed sense of justice. And the fact that you came to me rather than running off is commendable. Certainly smarter than the average hero of your generation." The panther smiled. "You could be...very worthwhile."

"So, you'll help?"

"For a price."

There it was again. He groaned. He'd heard rumors of villains that held blackmail over different heroes like an anvil, waiting to drop it when they needed a favor. Was that her game? She looked like the cat that had caught a canary, and he felt a bit like one at that moment.

"What's the price?" he asked again.

"You."

"...What do you mean, me?"

"I'm the Curator, little rabbit. Don't you know what that means?"

"You...curate things?"

"Yes. Things, in this case, meaning the best things in the world. Things with great value, great beauty, or great potential. In this case, you fulfill the third, and you may come to embody the second, as well. Perhaps even the first."

He didn't know what to say about that, and merely stuttered instead as she got up from her chair. She walked around the desk and around his chair, and he could feel her eyes running down his body. If he'd been standing, he wasn't sure he would have been able to resist the urge to cover himself, despite being fully clothed.

"Here's my price, little rabbit," she said, laying her hands on his shoulders. "I'll tell you who this little villain of yours is. In return, you let me put my name on you. Just a little signature, written in small letters where no-one else will ever see it."

"...That's your power, isn't it?" he whispered. "If you put your name on something -"

"It's a contract, with terms to be defined later." She pushed her fingers tighter to his shoulders, rubbing them, leaning in until he could feel her fangs against the backs of his ears. "A favor in the future, but until then, just existing as mine. Marked no differently than a painting. Waiting for me to state what I want. It's not that hard a decision, is it? A little favor in exchange for what you need."

"You could just - ah!"

He gasped as she nibbled the tip of his ear, going red in the face as she pulled him closer. Warm puffs of air colored the inside of his ear.

"I could, but he might be one of mine, too. If I may lose one tool, I should get another. Something for something, Mighty Hare. Something for something, or nothing for nothing. What will it be?"

"P-promise me..."

"Promise you? Mmm, promise you what?"

"Promise me...you won't use me...to hurt someone."

"That will require more words on you, Mighty Hare...but if you can stand that, I can promise that."

"Then..." He swallowed. "I agree."

"Excellent. Stand up; take off your costume."

His hesitation to strip only lasted a second. She'd said that he needed to have her mark somewhere on his body, her signature - her contract - and it was better that nobody else know about it for now. He could talk to Almanac about it later - maybe the grizzly would know a way to get around it - but for now, better that it stay hidden. Zed stood up and pulled at the zipper behind his neck, dragging it down to the small of his back before pulling his arms from their sleeves. His costume peeled off like paint, and he dragged it down to his waist with the panther watching him with a twitching tail.

"Hmmm, certainly well-muscled. A nice frame. Suitably statuesque and hero-like."

As his cheeks burned, he wiggled the suit further down, past his cotton-tail and over his rump. He tried not to blush more with the knowledge that he was naked under the suit, and kept waiting to be told that it was enough. It never was.

Down, down, down the suit went, the rubber material eventually hitting his ankles. He slowly pulled his feet free from the built-in boots, trying not to blush as he felt her eyes on his rump, wondering if she was staring at it, his sac, or something else.

Finally, he was naked, his suit left on the floor. Zed stood up and turned around, doing his best to keep his hands to his sides to not make it even worse for himself. At the very least, he could keep from embarrassing himself by trying to cover up.

Yet, she didn't seem to care. The Curator rested her chin on her fist, looking him over with the eyes of an artist trying to decide whether something was good enough or not. She tilted her head to one side, then the other, her eyes flicking from his face to his chest, and then to his groin, yet not long enough at any one place to feel like he was just meat while still giving him the impression that he was more object than person.

Eventually, she nodded.

"Sit down. Spread your legs," she said.

He sat on the edge of her desk, doing what he could to keep from making it worse. He rested his heels on the chair he'd just vacated as she stepped closer, the black-furred feline kneeling down and resting her hands against his upper legs. Clawed fingers pressed against his thighs, and his cock twitched despite himself. She noticed and chuckled.

"Mmm, don't worry. We're not going that far, Mr. Mighty Hare."

"Mmmph...I don't want to."

"No, I imagine your tastes run in a different direction. Of course, that wouldn't be hard to fulfill, but I don't imagine that you have time for that right now."

"Wait, what -"

He hissed as she pressed one claw firmly to his inner thigh, half-expecting to feel the skin tear. Instead, there was a hot feeling as she traced her claw across his leg like a pen, drawing out letters. He looked down as words began to form, bright and purple through his fur, as if traced with some sort of gel pen against flesh. It glowed as if it had its own light, spelling out a simple phrase.

The Curator.

It was like a signature at the bottom of a painting, and as the two words settled in, glowing brighter for a moment before fading to a dull glow, she took her other hand and wrote smaller - though no less heated - things in his other thigh. He gritted his teeth, clenching his fingers against the edge of the desk to keep from pushing her back. Something strange settled on him, almost like there was a layer of some new, tighter fabric around his body keeping him from moving easily, and Zed wondered just how far he'd let himself go.

Finally, she pulled back. As she stood, he saw a hint of a bulge in the front of her dress, and she chuckled, tapping her finger against her cheek.

"I love how it feels to purchase something new." She smiled. "Now, let's see what you have, hmm?"

"...What...what did you..."

"I own you, Mighty Hare. At least, for now. When I decide to execute the contract, then your term will be over. But for now, I own you...and a fine item you are. Now...for your part of the contract?"

As much as he wanted to know what she would make him do, and how, he didn't dare push. Time was running out, and he needed to make this count. However, he still blushed as he hopped down from the desk and pulled the card from his suit, passing it to her. She took one look and nodded.

"Yes, one of mine. A pity; he had the potential to go far, but it looks like he got greedier than his gifts could sustain."

"You know him? Where is he? What can he do?"

"Well, as of now, he is in breach of contract. He won't be able to do much." The Curator walked around her desk, sitting down on the other side. She gathered herself together, folding her hands as she looked at him. "You will find him at..."

A moment passed, and her eyes went slack. It was as if she was seeing something that wasn't in the room any longer, as if she wasn't entirely there. The moment ended, and she looked at him properly once more.

"Mmmm, he was trying to hide. Naughty; he knows that he's in breach, then. More penalties for me."

"What did you do?"

"A simple enough agreement. I gave him power in exchange for being mine. And with a few warnings of how to use it, of course. He shouldn't have done this, and now, he's trying to hide." The panther tsked softly. "Oh, dear, dear, dear. What a fool."

"Where is he?"

"You will find him at the Courtyard Plaza, two floors down from the penthouses, I believe. You'll be able to tell which room when you see the shadows under the door. He could mold black things into different shapes."

"...That's it?"

"He used to barely be able to shape shadows. I added to his powers. When you find him, just say 'C says Null and Void.' You can handle him after that."

"But -"

"Pardon. Let me rephrase. You will handle him after that. Do you understand me, little hero?"

"...Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now, why don't you get dressed and handle this little pest? I will be watching the news quite eagerly to see the results."

The fight was a joke. Once he found the hotel room, it was over almost before it started. The minute Zed had muttered the phrase the Curator had given him, the living etchings on the wall went still, the black shackles on the coffee-shop employees fell to the ground like dust, and the various constructs that the ferret villain had put together turned into so much ink. The ferret himself had fainted dead away, lost to the world, and the rescue was effortless after that.

What did she do to him? Zed wondered as he shepherded the coffee-shop employees out of the hotel room, guiding them downstairs as he called the cops. What the hell did she do to me?

His costume hid the glow of the signature on his leg, but he could still feel it. Each letter was its own little burst of heat, reminding him of the words that she had etched into him. The signature felt like some sort of collar, and the feeling of restricted movement, though lessened, was still there, like an invisible hand wrapped around his body. It was a constant feeling of someone holding him, refusing to let him go.

When he finally carried the ferret down to the hotel lobby, four cops were there to meet him. A news crew was just outside, waiting to ask questions, and he knew that he'd have to find better answers than the truth.

Is this what being a hero is like? he wondered. Hiding things?

"We'll take him in," one of the cops, a wolf, said as the rabbit passed the villain over. "We'll make sure that he's t-taken care of."

The stutter was almost imperceptible, but Zed still heard it. He looked up and saw the flicker of purple in the cop's eyes for the split second it was there, and almost thought that there was a similar glow at the wolf's chest. He opened his mouth...then closed it.

After all, the Curator had said that she would be collecting penalties from the villain, and considering that he was in breach of contract, they were probably going to be worse than the law could immediately inflict on him. He could have protested, but considering how horrifying the day had been, and how close three people had come to death, he honestly wasn't sure that he cared enough to save the villain.

The ferret had made his choice, just like Zed had. They both had to pay the price.

"Okay, officer...okay."

They took the villain away, and as Zed stepped out to meet the cameras as the Mighty Hare, he was half-sure that he saw the panther in her purple dress waiting in one of the cop cars, smiling indulgently at both him and the ferret being brought to her.

What kind of deal did I make? he wondered. Was it worth it?

It saved three people. It was. He told himself that, and he made himself believe it.

The End

Summary: A superhero new to the job is panicking because some villain has decided to go deadly with a threat. Desperate for some help, he is recommended to visit a strange sort of person, and realizes that the game of heroes goes deeper than he ever expected.

Tags: M/solo, Nudity, Embarrassment, Body Writing, Domination, Femdom, No Sex, Supers, Rabbit, Panther, Ferret, Bear, New Guy, Panic, Exposure, Potential Prologue,