Welcome to the first side story in my A Pearl Before Swine universe. You don't have to read the main novella if you don't want to (although I would recommend it ;) ) Aside from a few non-essential references, this story stands apart. I might make some more side chapters that have more story/lore relevance later.
The outer city was peaceful, especially at night. The narrow sliver of a moon illuminated only the bare marble beside the restful waterways. Unlike the towering inner city, the streets were actually at ground level. Instead of iron towers, simple packed five story buildings lined the paths. This sector had a certain rustic charm with it's balcony gardens, and wooden decorations. The wind blew just strong enough to cover the air with a quiet rustling. It was perfect for a night out on the town.
A flash of tawny reddish brown was spotted dancing across apartment balconies. No door was closed, no vault was locked, no treasure was safe before the fox. A top story apartment displayed a beautiful garden of saffron and violets. It's tall stained glass windows were a dead giveaway of precious shinies just begging to be liberated. Faux Fatale landed gracefully without a sound on the parapet. Growing up on the streets, she made up her name to establish an aura of inciteful curiosity as she seduced any poor fool with more money than they needed (which was all of them in her opinion). As she developed powers, her modeling career needed an alter ego. Thus the Vixen was born.
She admired her reflection in the mirror. Her form was slender and supple. She often strode down the aisle wearing daringly skimpy cosplay outfits of her costume. If only the drooling perverts knew that they were seeing the real Vixen. Her costume imitated the foxy personality she embodied. It was a mix of dark browns and oranges with flashes of brilliant reds in the right light. Although it was a form fitting skintight spandex, the outside was covered with a hint of fur that made it that much more convincing. In keeping with her style, she left a stylish triangular window dipping between her cleavage, and her bottoms were short shorts that left a band of appealing legs bare before her thigh high stockings took over. The stockings continued to white tufted pads that covered her feet. Her sleek domino mask covered her high proud features. Her brown eyes shone out of the darkness with a hint of the same red. Her long tawny hair was pulled back into a ponytail where it reached down to touch her other tail.
She stroked her bushy tail all the way down to its fiery tip. Only in the last few months had it grown in. She had struggled to find outfits to wear on the red carpet that showed her usual tanned skin while covering up the dead giveaway. She was 5-8, with a body that screamed lingerie model. She was smooth and flat in all areas except the juicy ones. While small, her rounded curves were in perfect proportion to her body.
A small swirl of cold air swept across the plush carpet. The tall sliding door shut silently. A mote of dust came to rest on the nose of an abnormally large cat curled up at the base of the couch. Its tail twitched then fell still once more. The ornate room was covered in artwork and small sculptures. The mantle above the fake fireplace was lined with trophies. She recognized them as originating from the city's annual marathon. Twenty consecutive golden runners held formation as if preparing on the starting line.
"Edwin Encarnacion" she read. By the age categories on the early trophies, she guessed he was about 28 years old. "Edwin the Ego more like" she scoffed as she saw the life size portrait above the head of the dining room table. He was tall and muscular. His short brown hair and slightly darker skin gave the appearance of Spaniard decent. She slid her hands over the exposed abs.
"Bingo." She brushed his pectoral muscles, and the painting swung off the wall. "How clichΓ©" chuckled the villainous intruder as she licked her lips at the sight. A massive safe was embedded in the wall. Its massive steel frame was held shut by a five centimeter hulk of a lock. She laid her delicate fingers on it. It slid open like a greased eel on ice.
"Yahtzee." Inside on a padded stand sat the largest pyrrhic diamond she had ever seen. Her tail swished in excitement. It was a relic of a bygone age. The only Powered that could make this size of synthetic diamonds died long ago. Shaped like a real diamond, it's three centimeter wide top face slanted into smooth faceted slopes. It's deep red hue was special because it emitted light of its own. It was worth millions.
"Go fish" came a deep voice behind her. The Vixen nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to face the newcomer. The homeowner stood behind her wearing nothing but white boxers. He was taller than she expected. She took a moment to admire his physique. His chiseled muscles were every bit as perfect as his painting. Although his long proportions still resembled a distance runner, he far outweighed the strongest of them. "That is not the prize you're looking for."
She gave him a devilish grin. "What was they saying again? Finders keepers, losers weepers, talkers SLEEPERS" and with that, she dashed forward to deliver a devastating uppercut to his chin. The blow knocked him backwards onto the small coffee table that shattered under the weight. "You may be a prime specimen of an ordinary man " she cooed at his still form, "but I am no ordinary lady." She turned to exit with her prize.
"You may be a prime specimen of an extraordinary woman." She froze at the voice. "But you're no lady." The man rose to his feet and admired her sculpted backside. She made a move for the sliding door, but seeing a reflection behind her, she nimble ducked away from the remains of the table he threw at her. She attempted to cut towards the propped open window, but cut her off halfway.
"Depths, he's fast" the Vixen cursed to herself. "He's probably never lost a race." She flashed him a sly smirk. "But he's never tried to catch me before. Time to bring that confidence down a peg." With a streak of red, she launched into a series of enhanced lightning fast blows.
Edwin was caught on the back foot. He could barely keep up with her movements. Her form was a blur, and she seemed to move with an inhuman grace that effortlessly dodged his every counterattack. Not that he had much time for counterattacks. She landed blow after blow as he stumbled backwards, and they weren't love taps either. Her thin nimble frame packed some serious punch.
The Vixen laughed with a high pitched crystalline giggle that sounded like a serene childhood memory only more evil. She battered him back and forth across the spacious room. Sculptures and trophies lay strewn around the carpet. She probably could have escaped by now, but the fervor of victory was far too exhilarating. This man was the pinnacle of strength and speed, but she was faster and stronger. For the thousandth time, she sent him sprawling.
"Care to admit defeat?" she taunted. "The mighty Mr. Ego is getting licked by a girl." She sashayed enticingly over to his body as he rose again. She sent him back to the ground and leaned over. Her heart was pounding, and her breath came in ragged gasps as she hovered her chest window in front of his face. He tried to hit back, but she easily dodged and kneed between his legs.
He grimaced, but rose once more. Just then, the Vixen noticed that her prey still breathed without a hitch. Despite the beating, his muscular form still stood as pristine as the portrait behind him. She was distracted by the massive bulge in his boxers. He barely seemed to feel her knee. She snarled and launched another attack. The slight hesitation in her was quashed again as she threw him around the room.
She slammed into the wall, the table, split the couch in half with his body, then the wall again. The entire room now lay in shambles. Only the self portrait still hung on the walls. Every piece of furniture lay in pieces. The cat had retreated to the bedroom where it watched silently. With a howl, she grabbed his leg and flung him head first into oven. Her chest heaved with exertion, but her face was lit with a triumphant sneer. And he rose again.
The smile melted off her face. When she didn't move, he launched the first attack. She blocked it easily and plowed his face through the granite countertop. And he rose again. Through the microwave, through the bathroom wall, through the row of cabinets, she unleashed her fury. And he rose again. She put her knee to his chest and rained down hellfire with her fists. Dozens and dozens of times, her brutal blows pounded into his face in rapid succession.
She slumped over exhausted. Her breath was gasping as if she had just run a marathon. She moaned in disbelief as he rose once more. She drew all her remaining energy together and lashed out with all the force she could muster. He blocked the blow.
She took a step backwards as he stared at her like an unfeeling statue. For the first time since the beginning of the fight he spoke. "You call me Mr. Ego, but my friends know me by a different name. Across the city, only a few know my reputation. Their arrogance becomes anger, their anger becomes hate, their hate becomes fear, their fear becomes desperation." He smiled. "They call me Mr. Enduro."
She didn't recognize it, but she knew what the nickname meant. He wasn't just some ordinary man. Her movements were getting frayed, and she started to feel sluggish as he took the next engagement with exactly the same speed and power as always. She was still the only one to land blows, but it was no longer effortless.