A full moon rose against the salt and pepper backing of a cloudless sky. Scattered blue beams bathed the city below in dim lighting. It would be midnight soon, and shadows cast by the wonderful moon would momentarily disappear. For the moment, however, it was a beautiful night, if a bit warm.

Silver walked down a mostly empty sidewalk. Most folks in the industrial district were smart enough to stay home at night, and those who weren't passed her by with little fanfare. The grey paint on her face, arms, and what cleavage her black corset revealed allowed for an ounce of camouflage. She could blend in at least somewhat with the moonrays. This wasn't the main reason she normally went out at night, though. Truth be told, it was just more fun than traipsing around beneath the oppressive Texas sun.

She passed beneath a streetlight. Moths flitting around the blub cast miniscule shadows. The yellow light caught a glint off her painted skin, while it also filtered through the shiny white locks of her wig. A teenager dressed in a loose hoodie entered the streetlight at roughly the same time as Silver did. His eyes widened and shoulders tensed for a moment at the sight of a known supervillain approaching him. This surprise passed in a split-second, and he quickened his pace past her.

Silver paid him little mind as she listened to him shuffle away. Kids usually weren't the greatest when it came to reporting crimes and criminals. Besides that, a young man dressed like that out at this time of night probably wasn't up to much good himself. Not much to worry about, most likely, but still as good a reason as any to stay on task. Best get this over with quickly.

An alleyway came and went on her left. A cursory glance revealed a small car parked within. Her lips curled into a smile. The car would do well enough for an escape, and she could sell it to that Cuban guy down at the docks for even further profit. Beyond that, driving beat the hell out of walking.

Upon crossing from one block to the next, her target came into view. It was a little liquor store she hadn't bothered to learn the name of, the kind of place that stayed open late in the hopes of catching a drunk in search of more booze. She'd been casing the joint for a few days now.

When within a few feet, Silver opened her gambit. From two fingertips she fired a bolt of lightning at the store. Blue electricity coursed through the building. In an instant, the lights went dark, but only for the intended building. She'd been careful to use only enough to cripple the one place. A more massive power outage would draw attention, and bring either cops or heroes down on her head. Dealing with either was a chore the villainess would rather spare herself.

Silver entered the establishment. She made sure to push the plexiglass and metal door, rather than pull it. Retaining that information had been part of the earlier scouting. No one would take a criminal seriously who couldn't figure out the exact function of a door.

Once inside, Silver created her own light source. An ionic cloud rose from her upturned palm. Reedy bolts of lightning shot toward the ceiling, casting thin shadows for the few inches they stretched before fizzling out. It looked very much like a miniature thunderstorm held in her hand. It bathed the entire room in an eerie, dim blue glow. Long shadows cast along her face, as well as the two chin height aisles filled with various cheep beers and liquors.

All the way on the far wall to her left was a single person standing behind the counter. A Hispanic man in his mid-fifties, he was only a little bit taller than her, which was remarkable because Silver stood at a whopping 5'4".

The clerk looked about ready to shout something at her—likely about the power outage—but clamped his mouth shut the moment she lit herself up. She walked toward him. He took a step back, but only had so much space before he ran right into the wall behind. The bottles stacked on their shelves rattled, and a few packs of cigarettes tumbled to the ground. He paid them zero mind, opting to focus entirely on the intruder.

"I'll take your silence as a sign of recognition." Silver put on her best regal villain voice. She stopped just sshy of arm's length from the counter. "If you have an alarm, I've already fried it. If you have a gun somewhere back there, don't go for it. Bullets aren't faster than lightning." She shot a bolt at the ceiling for emphasis. The clerk made a strained noise, and flinched as if dodging a punch.

"Please don't hurt me," the clerk said in a heavy accent. "Just take my money and leave."

"That's the plan." Silver directed a bolt at the cash register. The drawer sprung open. The clerk flinched. "Put all of it in a bag. Now."

She hadn't finished her directive before the clerk sprang into action. Frantic hands dug at the drawer's contents. Each scrape carried a fistful of bills. There was no form to his motions, no rhyme nor reason. He only wanted to empty the register quickly as possible.

Silver smiled as she watched him work, a sadistic sort of grin like a cat playing with its food. She tried to get a rough overview of the bills as they were hauled from the register. While mostly tens and twenties, there were a few hundreds mixed in. It hardly came as a surprise. Alcohol could be expensive, after all. Why else would places like this be such popular targets?

The clerk finished in record time. He placed the last few coins into the bag and threw it over the counter to rest at Silver's feet. She looked at it, then up to him with a raised eyebrow.

"Really? Did I fucking stutter?" She said.

"What?" The clerk breathed. He was visibly shaking, now.

"I said all of it. The safe. Go."

She nodded toward a door to her right. The clerk was ramrod still, probably too terrified to move.

"Go!" She shouted.

Raising her voice did the trick. The clerk scurried away, all but sprinting for the door. Silver scooped up the bag of money and followed at a more measured pace behind him. The man dug a key from his pocket. He made an attempt at unlocking the door, but trembling hands had a tough time with dextrous work. The key clinked and rattled against the lock. Silver sighed and tapped her foot in a manner he certainly heard.

After what were most likely the longest few seconds of his life, the clerk successfully got the door open. He entered and went right to the safe. As he knelt to turn the combination lock, Silver followed. She stood in the doorway without actually entering the small dark room. It was a place used mostly for storage, with unopened boxes strewn about randomly.

"Do you wanna hear a secret?" Silver asked the man while he worked. No response, predictably. "I could probably open that safe with my power. It's just more fun to watch you squirm." It was honestly the best part. Other than the payday, of course.

The clerk entered the combination quickly as he could. He attempted to turn the lever, but it wouldn't budge.

"Mierda," he swore under his breath, then whispered something else in Spanish as he entered the combination again.

"Are you saying mean things about me," asked Silver. "Because I wouldn't know if you were. I took German in high school, which means I don't speak a word of German."

The clerk completely ignored her. It would've been more satisfying if he had some sort of clever quip, but silence was also nice. Either way, Silver knew her constant prodding got under his skin.

This time when the man turned the handle, the latch clicked open. The clerk ripped the door open to reveal the fat pile of cash inside. Silver thew the money bag down at his right. He flinched almost all the way to his feet at both the motion and the sound of it hitting the floor so close.

"Empty it," Silver ordered. The clerk knelt back down and did as instructed. "Hurry up. I only have all night."

The order hadn't even left her lips before the clerk began filling up the bag. Either he'd seen enough cop shows to know how this went down, or he'd been robbed before. That second possibility was almost enough to make Silver feel bad. Almost.

The poor man probably set a speed record in how quickly he managed to empty the safe. The amount of cash inside was not insignificant, yet he removed it all in record time. Instead of picking up little bunches two at a time, entire armfuls were pushed into the bag. Within moments, every cent had been transferred. The moment it was, Silver intervened.

"Good. Now stand up and step into that corner." She indicated the far side of the little back room.

The clerk did as instructed. He even put his arms up as he walked, though Silver hadn't told him to do so. The villainess stepped forward and snatched up the bag. She spared one final glance for the clerk. He stood perfectly still. His posture tensed at her gaze, but he remained in his corner. Satisfied he wasn't dumb enough to try anything, Silver enacted her final step.

"One last thing." She pointed at him and her power crackled. A reedy little bolt contacted his right pocket. The clerk yelped and fell to the ground. "No cellphones. Can't have you calling the cops. Now," she hefted the bag over one shoulder, "if there's nothing else, I'll be going. Thank you for doing business with me."

With that, Silver exited the establishment. She always felt a little guilty about that last part. First she robbed the guy, then she went and destroyed his cellphone? She wouldn't do something like that if it weren't absolutely necessary. But, a dumb thief was a caught thief, and she refused to be caught. Supervillain prisons weren't the cushiest of places.

Though there were little danger of the cops showing up, Silver saw no need to stick around. She hit a decent pace down the thankfully barren sidewalk, somewhere between a walk and a jog. The sooner she vacated the premises, the sooner she could count her money. That was, perhaps, the best part. Nothing compared to the feeling of accomplishment brought upon by counting her haul after a good day's work.

She hefted the sack held lazily in her right hand, a short motion to test the weight. It felt heavier than most times she'd robbed a liquor store. Hopefully that meant the payout was larger than normal. The cash kept on-hand at these places could vary wildly. A good take sometimes meant the difference between ribeyes and ramen.

They alley where she'd seen the car was coming up, on the right now that she were going the opposite direction. Hopefully it was still there, and hopefully it was new enough to have some sort of ECU or other electrical structure inside. She could jump start a vehicle with a good jolt, but older ones didn't have the necessary electronics under the hood. This would be a whole lot harder if she had to walk home with her bag full of money.

Turning into the alley revealed the car was, in fact, still there. It was some sort of compact sedan, perhaps a Japanese import, which explained how it fit in the alley at all. What little light penetrated the passage reflected off the vehicle's smooth lines and pure black color scheme. It couldn't have been any more than five years old, which basically meant Silver had struck gold. These foreign cars were still popular amongst street racers, especially those closer to the west coast. It may be worth even more than she thought upon first seeing it.

As the darkness concealed the vehicle, it also kept secret those within the alley. Silver walked on blissfully unaware of this, until a flicker of movement from above caught her attention. She stopped in her tracks and put one foot behind the other in a defensive stance. There was no sound as a shape dropped from a fire escape above to land in a knelt position. It was like a ghost, a wraith in the knight.

The figure stood. Shadows wrapped around its frame, absorbed by the soft black fabric clung close to the skin. A woman, she was tall and slim, with deep curves at her long waist which looked almost unnatural. The plain dark cloth covered every inch of her. The only visible part of her person was a pair of glowing golden eyes split vertically by broad pupils. They were not her most striking feature, however. No, that distinction went to the thick girdled tail that swished out behind as she rose to full height.

Their eyes met. Silver took a small step back. The villainess dropped her money bag. She stood with her hands at her sides, elbows slightly bent inward, palms facing forward with the fingers pointed out. Electricity ran up her forearms, arced through her digits. Stray white locks from her wig danced in the static.

"Be at ease, young one. I am not here to fight you," said the figure. She had a slippery way of talking, emphasized by her pronounced South African accent.

"Yeah? Forgive me if I don't believe you," Silver challenged.

"I wish to talk, that is all," said the woman.

"Alright, then talk." Silver refused to back down, not against this unknown quantity.

"Relinquish your powers, first. We can hardly have a conversation when the air is so tense."

"Not gonna happen," Silver denied. "Not until I know you won't attack."

"Your powers move at the speed of light. You could strike me down before I moved an inch."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You clearly have powers, and since I don't know what they are, I'll stick to my guns."

"Fine, have it your way." The woman shook her head. "Perhaps this will convince you."

Silver had never encountered someone with a tail before. As such, she didn't even think to keep an eye on it. By the time she saw it move, it was too late. The woman slipped her tail into a pocket and whipped something toward Silver. The villainess stretched out one hand. A charge built white hot blue lightning in her hand, ready to be released, when the incoming object caught a sliver of streetlight that leaked in from beyond the alley; a shade of green Silver knew very well.

A wad of cash landed at her feet, so fat it couldn't be rolled up, and had to be folded. A broad, pink rubber band kept it together. Silver glanced at it for a split second. The top bill was a hundred. She couldn't see what the other denominations were, but if they all were hundreds, than the bundle must've been a few thousand dollars, if not more.

Silver met the woman's eyes. She dropped her powers and let her arms fall to the side. The electricity faded from her form. Her hair settled.

"I'm listening," she said.

"I will cut right to the chase, then," the woman began. "My name is Liandra, but professionally I'm known as Raptor. I'm coming to you today with a business opportunity."

"You want to hire me?" Silver raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," nodded Liandra.

"And you thought an ambush was the best way to do that? You couldn't go through my agent or ask for a resume?"

"Cute," Liandra said, terse. Her tail swished. "Are you done?"

Silver gave no response, only stared Raptor straight in her strange eyes.

"Good," Liandra said. "Now, as I was saying, my employer is after a particular piece of equipment, one that I cannot easily acquire with my skill set. You, however, are uniquely qualified."

"This employer of yours have a name?"

"They do," Liandra replied simply. "For now, you work directly with me."

"Then what's this, exactly?" Silver gestured toward the money. "Payment upfront? Half now, half later?"

"A gift. Whether you accept my offer or not, it is yours to keep as a gesture of good faith. The job I am proposing pays the same amount. Do well, and there may be even more in your future. Feel free to look it over."

Moving slowly, Silver picked up the banded clump of cash in front of her, one eye on Raptor at all times. When the other woman made no move to attack or otherwise intercept, Silver snatched it up and stood straight. She thumbed through the bills. They were, indeed, all hundreds She could count them later, but it was a decent amount.

She looked to the sack on the ground to her right. It probably contained roughly the same amount of money inside, but the robbery it came from had also been unusually lucrative. Most of the time she was lucky to get away with a few hundred, a far cry from the thousand or so within that bag. There was nothing consistent about turning over liquor stores. It wasn't sustainable.

Silver placed the money in front of her face, so it was visible at in the same breadth as the sack. Liandra—Raptor—was offering her a substantial payday. She had a chance to make five figures in just two jobs. How many poor saps would she have to rob to haul in a similar amount? Sure, this job Raptor wanted her for was probably more dangerous than her normal work, but she also said it was a perfect fit for her. One of the first things Silver learned in her tenure as a thief was that beggars can't be choosers, especially if the reward outweighed the risk.

"Alright." She looked at Liandra. "What do you want me to do?"