“Come in, Gargoyle,” Stone Cutter barked, “The Wizards Guild is attacking downtown Kings Head!”

“Look boss, I’m on the way,” Gargoyle said, weaving around traffic in his motorcycle, a heavy, loud chopper, “But I want to let you know that I don’t want to fight the Wizards Guild and, circumstantially, traffic is terrible.”

“Shut up and move, you’re on the clock!” Stone Cutter ordered, quietly adding “When is traffic ever good?”

“Solid copy,” Gargoyle shouted over the thrumm of the engine, “Do we have a street address?”

“Area is North Broadway,” Stone Cutter said.

“The shopping district?” Gargoyle asked.

“Seems they’re searching for arcane reactants,” Stone Cutter commented.

“You and I both know nobody knows what they’re doing,” Gargoyle spat, “I hope I don’t get turned into a frog.”

“Of course nobody knows what they’re doing,” Stone Cutter explained, “They don’t even know what they’re doing. What they’re trying to do is research a new scientific field solely through trial and error. All they know is that magic, in some form or another, exists.”

“They turn people into frogs,” Gargoyle said, “And those frogs don’t turn back!”

It was a well known fact that nobody liked the Wizards Guild. Physically, none of them looked older than forty, and yet all of them could muster a sheer disdain and hatred that people twice their age were still working on. It wasn’t that they particularly hated people, or overly loved themselves. Every member of the Wizard’s Guild saw themselves as extremely busy. Magic, what little of it existed, wasn’t well understood and required constant research and experimentation to advance in the craft. It was something they had only discovered a couple weeks ago. It wasn’t that the Wizards Guild didn’t want to interact with people, they wanted to not interact with people at record speeds.

The wizards squinted at the midday sun as they warped onto Market Street. Neon lights and flashing signs glared at the wizards, horns honked, engines revved, loud rap music was played out of at least one car, the noise and glare seemed to come from everywhere. The wizards mumbled, grumbled and growled, chewing on cigarettes and looking around with blood shot eyes. Their red robes were threadbare and faded, stains down the front from carelessly handling important alchemical ingredients and coffee.

As they ambled onto the busy road, an unlucky driver slammed on the brakes, and the squeal of tire on asphalt turned the head of one wizard. The man pulled into reverse as fast as his panicked mind could manage, the stick shift grinding as he slammed it into place. The wizard glared at the driver, tossing a handful of sludgy gunk onto the hood of the car. The sludge boiled and spat, forming up into a vaguely bipedal creature that quickly melted through the engine block, laughing as the man dove from his car and ran screaming. Another car sped past the wizards in desperation, only for a wizard to bark a curse in an ancient tongue and the car became glowing hot.

Everywhere the Wizards Guild went, people fled as quietly and politely as they could.

“Marcus,” Erik the Wizard grumbled, wandering down the road, “What is it you’re looking for?”

“I’ll not have the likes of you stealing my work,” Marcus the Wizard growled, “What’s mine is mine.”

“Can we please get along,” Ronald the Wizard whined, polymorphing a man into a frog, “I can hardly hear myself think over your endless bickering. Don’t forget, we’re here for important ingredients.”

“Ingredients for expanding your waistline,” Johnson muttered.

“Oh, don’t you start,” Paul spat, “I’m already in a mood, don’t any of you care?”

“Might as well let them,” Mike moaned, “Nothing ever shuts you up anyway.”

“Who is that?” Ronald asked, pointing a gnarled finger towards Gargoyle.

Gargoyle, realizing he had been spotted, ducked down the nearest alley.

“What are you doing?” Stone Cutter reprimanded, “Engage the enemy.”

“I can’t just “engage” them,” Gargoyle protested, “Listen, what am I doing here? Civilian evacuation? Search and rescue? Direct combat?”

“Civilian evacuation,” Stone Cutter said, “Overhead visual link established, the wizards are heading for Aphrodite Apparel-”

“Isn’t she some kind of sex goddess?” Gargoyle asked.

“It’s a women’s clothing store,” Stone Cutter said, “Now get moving.”

“Good copy, over and out,” Gargoyle said.

Gargoyle knew that his job meant getting in front of the wizards, but a direct path would mean getting turned into sentient pavement or some other awful nonsense. The windows were nice looking, and Gargoyle figured that meant plaster and wood window frames that crack under his weight instead of the heavy brickwork of low income neighborhoods, and because he was hiding behind office complexes the roofs were too high up to be useful anyway.

Even with super strength, Gargoyle didn’t think he could get far enough ahead of them on foot, which meant taking the motorcycle. Gargoyle scowled as the engine revved, this wasn’t going to go well.

“Augh, kids these days,” Mike growled, eyeing Gargoyle as the hero drove a wide circle around the wizards, “What is he even wearing?”

“Hey!” Johnson barked, his voice booming with arcane power, “Why don’t you dress like a civilized man!”

“This isn’t some freak show!” Paul added.

“Go on!” Mike spat, hurling a bolt of magic at Gargoyle, “Scram!”

Gargoyle braked and swerved as the ray of magic flew towards him, hitting the left handlebar of his bike. The handlebar gave off a scared yowl and turned furry under Gargoyle’s grip. Gargoyle tossed the ferret away and dove off the motorcycle to continue on foot. Gargoyle charged towards the mall strip, his heavy boots pounding against the pavement.

“Everyone, evacuate the premises now!” Gargoyle shouted, slamming through the store’s glass facade, “The Wizards Guild is- oh no.”

The Wizards Guild had not somehow beaten Gargoyle to the women’s clothing store. Superheroine, pop idol, and steamer, Faerie Fire was already there. As far as Gargoyle cared, Faerie Fire represented a threat to mankind the world over. She was, he begrudgingly admitted, hard working, compassionate, dedicated, charming, and had a loyal fanbase that supported her through donations that she encouraged to exercise, stay in shape, and take care of themselves. Faerie Fire also had a body that bordered on absurd, and as Gargoyle understood a lot of the money Faerie Fire earned from donations went towards buying the exorbitantly expensive body modifications that Cape’s Cave offered.

Not just tougher skin and stronger muscle, she used money intended for super heroics to give herself a body the likes of which is anatomically impossible in a normal female outside of a young man's wet dream. Small wonder that her fan base seemed almost exclusively of the male gender. She bought herself a pinched waist, wider hips, thicker thighs, a perfect backside, a chest that seemed ready to spill out of every top she wore, and a creamy complexion. Gargoyle even suspected her cream complexion to be a modification due to the impossibility of anyone having such smooth skin, unless Faerie Fire was also, somehow, a newborn baby. He also wasn’t sure if the long, white fox tail and translucent gossamer wings on her back were real.

Gargoyle thought that a rowdy game of football, presented on a large screen alongside a chilled beverage, was art. He wasn’t artistic enough to notice that the rest of her superheroine costume coordinated colors with those. Her costume, as far as Gargoyle cared, was some sort of wrestling costume, a white, one piece swimsuit complete with long gloves and matching boots.

Faerie Fire was jaw droppingly gorgeous, but also completely crazy. She was the kind of hero that thought continually broadcasting her location was a good idea. She was the kind of hero who thought having a legion of adoring fans was a good thing. That, Gargoyle knew, was why she was a threat to mankind. Few men, painful as they knew it would be, could resist the siren song of a crazy, hot woman. It wasn’t that she had the body, or the personality, or the charming smile. Faerie Fire knew, she knew the power she held. A common thug would take all you have, maybe even take your life. Faerie Fire would ask for it, and she knew you would happily hand it over.

She was also in the middle of a fashion show, modelling for some kind of dress that not only didn’t have a single pocket but also crisscrossed the thighs to ankles with a silk pattern that meant Faerie Fire had to touch her toes to her heel in order to walk.

“The what?” Faerie Fire asked, striking a pose for the cameras while turning to face Gargoyle.

“The Wizards Guild,” Gargoyle urged, “They’re coming here!”

“Alright, listen up people,” Faerie Fire said, putting her most commanding yet relaxed voice, “There has been a slight change of schedule. In order to prevent any unwanted hexes, if you could all follow me then we can take this fashion show to the streets! Gargoyle, be a dear and round up the people in the dressing rooms on the upper floors, your safety is our greatest concern.”

A host of paparattzi, adoring fans, and employees followed Faerie Fire into the mall and away from the cranky wizards while Gargoyle sped up the escalator and scanned the second floor for changing rooms.

“Everyone, the store is being evacuated,” Gargoyle bellowed, “I can guide you to safety, please exit the changing rooms in an orderly manner.”

“I’m still changing,” a woman called.

“The Wizards Guild is coming here,” Gargoyle ground out, “I think your dignity can take the hit. Though, I hear frog princesses are in fashion.”

By the time Gargoyle had caught up to Faery Fire, she had already informed mall security to begin evacuating the area and started an impromptu concert. Where she got the microphone from, Gargoyle had one guess, but at very least her back up dancers seemed to just be adoring fans, given their gleeful smiles.

Right as Gargoyle was about to think “Things are going about as well as they can” he, Faery Fire, and a young, well dressed woman with an Aphrodite Apparel nametag were lifted up in a telekinetic hold and dragged back towards the wizards. Faerie Fire held her costume pieces in place as Gargoyle righted himself midair.

“What kind of dye is used on this silk?” Eric demanded, violently shaking the employee as he shoved a dress in her face and screamed at her, “My experiments require precise ingredients, now tell me what I want to know!”

Gargoyle flew feet first into one of the wizards, drop kicking a glyph the wizard conjured. The glyph held Gargoyle and the wizard still as they slid backwards under the force of Gargoyle’s kick, clothing racks splitting cleanly as the pair flew over them.

“Worry not,” Faery Fire said, putting a calming hand on the employee’s shoulder, “I know-”

“Who in the blazes are you?” Mike demanded, the start of a spell in his hands.

“Faery Fire, super idol super heroine,” Faery Fire said, leaning forward with a wink, “I know all-”

“Listen lady,” Mike interrupted, “You and your weird friend shall leave us at once! We’re not interested in whatever perverse fetish you have.”

“It’s not-” Faery Fire protested.

“Yeah, we’re not interested,” Ronald agreed, “And don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt? We’re trying to have a conversation with her.”

Gargoyle sprung off the wizard’s glyph and sprinted for Faery Fire, boots loudly slamming into the polished wooden floor.

“Why is it so loud in here?” Mike cried, glaring at Gargoyle, “I’m just trying to talk to one person!”

“Get down-” Gargoyle shouted, diving over Faery Fire.

“Get Lost!” Mike shouting, flinging the finished spell at Gargoyle. Linda, the employee, watched the spell hit Gargoyle and Faery Fire with a blinding flash of light. As she blinked away the spots in her eyes, Gargoyle and Faery Fire were gone.

“Finally,” Ronald said, bearing down on Linda, “Now, tell us what we want to know, or else!”