Astolfo kept ringing the doorbell incessantly.

It could have been that no one was home, but with such a large home, it could have also very well been that someone was currently on their way over to the doorbell. When nobody answered immediately, Astolfo couldn't help but start to feel restless.

It was a strange sight. A pink haired girl clad in an elaborate armoured dress, hopping up and down on the side of the street while poking the call button at the gate of a wealthy home. Someone might have thought to go over and investigate if this was not the address of a family comprised entirely of super heroes —New Wave.

As one would expect, the neighbourhood was immaculate. The streets were spotless, swept routinely. All the properties on them were owned by people who were wealthy enough to keep them well maintained. Nothing looked out of place except for Rider.

Astolfo might have been distracted by all the beauty had he not been on his way to something far more interesting. Glory Girl had expressed a desire to partner up with him, but hadn't given a means by which to contact her. Naturally, the twelfth knight of Charlemagne went straight to her home after being given the address by his Master. His eyes could only be closed in contentment as he waited for this new adventure to begin.

Seconds after he started pounding on the intercom button by the gates, a voice barked through the speakers, angry and exasperated.

"Hey, asshole, you don't just get to show up at our home and keep ringing the bell until we come out! Get the hell out of here before I call the police."

The response was quick and terse. It was understandable that they would get intrusive people at their home every now and then. New Wave weren't just widely known, but they were also unmasked capes. Their identities were common knowledge. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that they were closer to celebrities than heroes. While some heroes might be instantly recognisable — during days when they patrolled on the street, maybe even stopping to wave at groups of fans — New Wave enjoyed the fame and perks that came with being heroes in their civilian lives as well. Of course they would be approached by many people.

This was fully understood by the senior members of the superhero family team, that is to say: the parents. PR was an important part of a hero's career, whether they liked it or not, and for an independent group of heroes not sponsored by the government, it was vital. New Wave received many donations from individuals and organisations for their work, much like a charity, because of their status in society. New Wave, like all celebrities, were not unfamiliar with dealing with members of the public. Although, being approached in their home was clearly out of line.

But Astolfo was someone who did not care for social boundaries, not because he was bold or daring, but because he could not conceive of the danger of social rejection, or even legal repercussion. His mind was at the mercy of his whims, and whatever he set his mind to, he saw to the end. He would have taken his Hippogriff to their front door if it were necessary.

Astolfo isn't fazed in the slightest by the hostile tone as he responds with zeal, "Oh, you don't know who I am? I met your daughter... No, sister? No, cousin! Yes, that's right. I met your cousin on Saturday," Astolfo could tell that the young man was probably Shielder. After all, there were only two men on the team. He was quite pleased with his deduction, "I know that because Glory Girl doesn't have any brothers. Anyway—"

"Wait...who are you? Are you from Vicky's school?" Realising that this wasn't some random fan, Shielder's anger was replaced with bewilderment.

"Oh! No. She flew up to me in the morning and we had a nice chat! She said she loved my Hippogriff and she was so nice and she wanted to fight crime with me!"

"What?" This caught him off guard for only a second.

Shielder had understood immediately who this was. Victoria had informed the family about a new cape that was flying around the city carelessly on Saturday; she had not informed them that she had extended an invitation to work alongside one another. Thus, the misunderstanding.

Team ups among independent heroes were rare. Heroes valued their image greatly, no matter how altruistic they were. You couldn't do good if people thought you were a villain. Coupled with the fact that the world of capes was full of dangerous people, this meant that heroes were particular about who they shared their time with in uniform. Allies were privy to personal information about each other, most important being unique details about powers. Even if one did not share information so freely, there would be ample time to observe someone as you fought alongside them. Because of this, capes had to be wary of who they associated themselves with. Especially New Wave, who had a very precious image to maintain. They could not be seen with anyone who could tarnish it.

Shielder knew Victoria would most likely get in trouble for this when her mother found out, but it didn't seem like this person was very rude, so he buzzed them in.

"I see. Why don't you come inside."

Astolfo skipped along the gravel driveway and past trimmed hedges shaped like animals. As he approached the door he straightened out his skirt and brushed down the white streak in his hair, preparing to do his best to act professional. When Shielder opens the door he's in costume, full New Wave colour pallet beaming Rider in the face.

"Ooh! You have matching costumes. That's so cool!" Astolfo looks him up and down in amazement. He wastes no time in giving him a dazzling compliment. "I bet you make the girls go wild when you go out together."

Even though Shielder is used to this kind of hero worship from normal people, he's taken aback slightly. "Ah, thanks. Uh...Come in. Why don't we talk in the living room," Suddenly, his voice takes a noticeable shift and he can't find his words.

He takes Astolfo to a homely living area, not too tacky, but clearly belonging to a high status family. Rider plops down unceremoniously on the comfiest looking couch and wiggles his butt—vigorously—forming a warm imprint to lay on. Alarmingly, he found that the fabric of his skirt was riding up his legs with how far back he had shimmied his ass, so he closes his legs and puts his hands down on his lap to push down the fabric over his crotch. Shielder, meanwhile, was busy taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Shielder was not used to representing his family, but he was capable of speaking for them if needed. Even so, Shielder found himself wishing he didn't have to deal with this alone. In his mind, he was somehow absolutely sure this person had no ulterior motives, yet it still didn't mean he could make any promises. He was afraid he would do exactly that if he kept looking into her eyes. He finds himself taking a deep breath.

"Look, I'm not sure what Vicky told you, but New Wave rarely does work with anyone outside of the protectorate. It puts a lot of unnecessary risk in our hands," At Rider's bemused expressions, Shielder hurries to correct himself. "Don't get me wrong. You look like a fine hero, but..."

"I get it! You don't need some diva running about and making you look bad. I completely understand where your coming from," Rider adds.

"Yeah! You get it. So—"

"I personally can't stand those types of people. Luckily for you, I'm an excellent judge of character," Shielder's voice went unheard as Astolfo listed his best qualities. "I also have an unshakable code of ethics that I always abide by. I am a knight after all. I would never willingly deceive anyone for my own gain," Rider added proudly, as he adjusted the hem of his skirt discreetly.

"And, best of all, I have plenty~ of experience," Rider punctuated his statement with a wink and pointing to his puffed up chest with his thumb.

"Really? We've never heard of a cape like you."

Shielder was skeptical now, of this boast, and of her act. It felt to him like delusions of grandeur. A knight was a peculiar thing for a hero to call themselves, but there would always be Myrddins and Mouse Protectors out there he supposed. Still, surely, people would have known about a cape who rode around on a griffon.

"Trust me," Rider gave out a cocky laugh as he looked at his nails smugly, "I've been around." The look on Shielder's face told him that he wasn't taking him seriously, so Rider couldn't help but blurt out all his achievements in an attempt to prove himself. "I've defeated a giant; I've been to the moon; I've even been turned into a tree."

'Right. This girl is clearly insane.' And just like that, any charm Astolfo had gained with him was lost.

Realising this, Astolfo backtracked with a nervous laugh. "Haha! No, just kidding. But I totally beat that giant. I've actually got a lot of victories under my belt."

"I thought you told Vicky you were new to the cape scene?"

Astolfo had clearly lost control of the situation. It dawned on him that being a spy was much harder than he thought. Keeping up with his mouth was simply to difficult for him. However, his Master had entrusted him this task. Astolfo couldn't fail, there were bigger things at stake. The lives of potentially all the humans on Earth depended on them. He couldn't fail them. He needed to get in with New Wave, no matter the cost.

Unfortunately, being backed into a corner, Astolfo wasn't thinking straight.

He got up from his seat, turned around, and bent over at the hip.

"What...are you doing?"

Rider just shook his bottom.

Shielder was completely befuddled. Astolfo had seemingly got up from his seat to bend over for no reason. It only added further to the confusion when he turned his head — with a dazzling, toothy, smile — and waved innocently with his fingers. The whole action was so cute that Shielder completely missed what it was meant to be—a poor attempt at seduction. As he waited for a response, so too did Rider, and they were stuck in staring contest.

Who can say how long it would have gone on for had Victoria Dallon not arrived at that very moment.

"..."

The silence extended for quite a lot longer as whatever greeting she had prepared died in her throat, and the excitement in her step faltered.

She was called by her cousin when the cape from a couple of days ago arrived at her house. She thought it was weird they had come directly to her house, but still made her way over eagerly.

Victoria rounded on Shielder, angry in way only women could be, "What's going on here?"

"Wha...!" Shielder was still confused but was now also struggling to find a reason for why he was suddenly on the defensive for seemingly no reason. "W...w-we were just talking about how she wanted to work with us." His hand were spread wide with his palms up, as if saying 'I have about just as much a clue as you have here'. Unfortunately, it didn't save him from his cousin. "You know she can't ju—"

"Eric, why are you talking to her? And who said I was speaking on behalf of everyone?" Victoria was relentless and Eric didn't know what was going on. Arguments with family were very common, especially between the sexes; as with all men, to Shielder it felt as though he were crawling through the shores of Normandy. He sat there dumbfounded at his cousin but quickly relented with a sigh. Victoria was old enough that she and her friends could get up to whatever they wanted without his babysitting anymore. He'd be damned if he was going to get any flak when Brandish found out, "Go hang out with your guy friends."

With a shake of his head, Shielder left the room. Victoria turned to Astolfo, apologetic. "Jeez, I hope he was kind to you. He didn't make you do anything weird did he?"

Just as quickly as Glory Girl had gone from welcoming to blistering, Astolfo went from enticing to innocent —he didn't deny one word as he sat there rubbing his hand on the back of his head, "Oh, hey! Yeah...He didn't trust me at all. I mean, why couldn't he just take what I said at face value?"

Glory Girl gave a bark of laughter. "Ha! I know right? Sometimes guys just ask too many questions."

"Hey, I don't think I've told you how much I like the costume."

"Thanks, but it's got nothing on you. You've got to tell me who made yours. I don't think I've seen anything that good from parian."

If Astolfo had any sense, he might have noticed the first piece of information that might have been of value, but he and his new best friend had already started to hit it off.

In the less wealthy parts of the city, Lancer was walking on the sidewalk.

The battle that took place last night had certainly not been kind to the docks. There were already tapes put up around the damaged parts of the street. The traffic was redirected elsewhere and it was even difficult for pedestrians to find a path through the roadworks as the damage extended to the sidewalk as well. The citizens here were used to these types of things but it was still a major disruption to their daily lives when it caused such high amounts of collateral damage. There were no bright or happy faces to be seen.

"Damn, Lancer," a young man said, dragging out the first syllable in a childish manner. "You must hit hard."

Their Master had impulsively given their newly summoned Caster the room they were staying in to use as a workshop, so now he was going to see if he could room with a gang of teenage villains Lancer had met last night. A bold move. This was after finally resolving to get his shit together and do whatever mysterious task they were here to do in the first place. He could at least thank Caster for that.

"Yeah. Us Servants are a rowdy lot," he said dismissively.

"Hey, man..." Lancer had always been relatively agreeable in the anime, as long as you weren't draining orphans dry in your basement, but even then...

It didn't seem like there would be any problems with him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Master, don't take this the wrong way," His voice had taken on the tone one might use when trying not offend someone, but wanting to power through anyway, "But what exactly are doing here?" Lancer had stopped walking, and faced his Master with patronising look.

"What?" His Master looked surprised.

"You don't seem like the fighter type — not many mages are — but you don't even look like you know what you're doing. I'm not really a 'sit and think' type of guy, but have you even stopped to consider how us Heroic Spirits are able to be summoned?" Lancer looked straight into his eyes, not unkindly, as he tried to get him to think. "Why we have knowledge about the grail war? Why we still have classes? I don't mind being a Lancer, but it gets me thinking. It'd be nice to have a Master who worried about that stuff too."

"Hey..." A weak protest more akin to a whine was all he could manage in response to Lancer's biting criticism. He did not know how to react to Lancer's seeming displeasure with him, but at the very least he thought he had to try to defend himself. "I'm not cut out for this, you know. I am trying."

A sigh was his response. Not that he could blame him, that was a pathetic excuse. "Well, you just sit tight while I go fix your problem, okay?"

"Tch...," A smug grin told him that Lancer was simply being an ass, but he could help feeling a little slighted. Looking into his eyes, he felt a need to prove himself as a capable Master. Despite his anxiety he prodded forward towards the hideout of the dangerous criminals. "C'mon man."

It didn't take long for them to find the Undersiders' hideout. All it took was for Lancer to wander around near last night's battleground, and eventually he felt the faint, foreign, sensation all capes had in a factory building not too far off.

They knocked on the door and waited when, suddenly, from Lancer's point of view it looked like his Master was having a seizure.

"Shit. I forgot a mask," he bit out, his voice lowered in a harsh whisper, "Again! Goddammit!" He looked into the sky as he dragged out the swear, "What do I do?!"

"Huh? I thought you were doing that as a sign of trust?" Lancer had summoned his armour and his spear in a shower of light, but not before taking off his shirt and handing it over.

His Master took it hesitantly. It was Lancer's Hawaiian shirt. He gave out a pathetic sob. "I guess I'll just go kill myself then," he remarked as he tied it around his mouth and nose like a bandana. He looked up at Lancer for approval, but he was already laughing at him.

"Ha! No need to go looking for a mask now Master, I don't think we'd ever find anything that would suit you more!" Lancer guffawed. There was a significant disparity between the two as they stood side by side. His Master could only hope that he wasn't ridiculed to his face.

A series of hurried steps brought their attention back to the door as it opened. On the other side was the blonde girl from last night, looking irritated, although she didn't voice it. "Get inside."

Having Lancer standing outside in his suit was very conspicuous, but, as expected, it made it harder for him to be ignored. As the villain ushered them in quickly her concerns were more focused on 'who did these idiots lead to our hideout' rather than 'who is this random guy I've never seen before'. She led them up dirty and ruined stairs, into a living space more suitable for college students than villains. It might have looked homey if it weren't for the pair of viscous dogs growling at the newcomers.

"It's just the guy from last night."

They were faced with the four young villains that comprised the Undersiders and fifth girl, who Lancer recognised. Everyone but the kid, Regent, looked tense. Between the black skull mask of the biker dude; the scowl on the aggressive dog lady's mask; the pissed looking female with no mask (to hide the contempt in her eyes); and the gargoyle-like grin on the tiny male model, the only non-super powered person in the room wanted to slink behind the demigod at his side.

"Isn't this supposed to be a secret hideout," drawled the youngest from the couch.

"Who the hell do you think you are just showing up like this." The girl in the dog mask was much less cool about the entrance.

Her dogs seemed to agree, because they practically foaming at the mouth. The dots connected for Lancer that these were smaller versions of the monster from last night. They were strong enough to savage one of the strongest brutes in Brockton — possibly the world — like an attack dog would any normal man, in their engorged states. Cú gave them a look.

Their instincts were telling them to stay away from this man in particular —the other one sweat so much fear they would have attacked on sight. Animals had a keen sense for the supernatural. Not only does Lancer's state as a Servant make him overwhelming for creatures that have any spiritual sense, but his beastial scent also gave off warning. They didn't look like they were about to pounce on either of them, but they stood with their legs coiled.

"Okay...so you're probably wandering wh—" Bark! His Master tried to step forward but the dogs rounded on him in an instant. "Ah~!"

Though they didn't attack.

Lancer didn't even bother to hide his uproarious laughter. He knew he was giving his Master a hard time for being a wimp, but it was impossible not to laugh at that. He wasn't even sure people could make such sounds.

"Listen up," Lancer spoke up before the more serious members of the group could ask any questions. "I'm calling in that chit you owe me. I need you to find a place for this guy here to stay for the foreseeable future. " He jerked his thumb behind his back, where his Master had retreated. Everyone was greeted with a sheepish wave. "Don't let these dogs maul him, alright."

"Wait—" Lancer then left, evading the questions and protests that were surely about to follow before anyone could stop him. It looked like he had wanted to use his favour to help someone he knew, but didn't care enough to see it through. In reality, he had turned into spiritual form as soon as he was out of sight and remained at his Master's side.

Without any consideration given to their thoughts or even their ability to carry out such a request, the Undersiders were left perturbed, insulted, and in Tattletale's case, intrigued. Without Lancer there to blame, all eyes turned the man currently trying to covertly hide behind the couch.

"Uh...hey, how violent are those dogs?" He asked the boy playing video games. He heard a snort elsewhere. "I know they probably won't bite, but I kind a have a little fear of dogs." Tattletale sniggered. Ty started to feel a little self conscious.

"Nah, don't worry yourself. They won't attack unless Bitch tells them to." This wasn't meant as reassurance however.

"Oh, okay then. Thanks." The statement had reassured him.

His reasoning was that her friends would know Hellhound better than any information a computer could give him. This boy seemed agreeable enough. If he said the dogs wouldn't attack, then he would definitely feel safe lowering his guard. His heart had been racing and his legs were exhausted from being tensed for so long.

"Also, who the fuck are you?" The blasé tone made it clear he wasn't trying to be aggressive.

"Huh?" Only now did he remember how rude he and Lancer just were. He probably owed them an explanation. "Oh, I'm," He almost gave his real name, "Tyrone." That was the name he had decided would help him fit in the most in America. Unfortunately, he had told too many strangers that name for him to easily change it —he didn't want to there to be any awkward encounters where someone would feel like they had been lied to — so he shortened it to, "Ty."

Tattletale grinned briefly; Ty reciprocated enthusiastically — putting the sniggering from earlier out of his mind — simply happy that he was being received kindly, his earlier fears seemingly forgotten.

He extended his hand over the couch and around for Regent to shake, who slowly shook it with his index and thumb.

He extended his hand to the others without moving from behind the couch, but no one moved to shake it. With an awkward frown, he lowered it. "I'm sorry, do you guys not want me here?"

The way Ty had been acting up until this point would have gotten very different results with anyone else, but his friend's performance with Lung had made things different. Grue could only sigh as he accepted what was, in the end, a relatively simple ask.

"Alright...I guess we're stuck with you then, no offence. I'm Grue, I guess."

"Oh, no need. I looked you all up. But not in a creepy way. It was because you're all criminals."

"Alright. Well—"

"Oh. My. God! I am so sorry, I did not mean for that to sound as judgmental as it did. I mean—"

"We really don't give a shit—"

"It's fine—"

"—I owed to myself to do little research, you know? You are technically criminals though, even though I'm sure...absolutely sure that you probably just made one mistake that got you on the wrong side of the law," he looked to Bitch as he said that, not without a small amount of trepidation, "and you too, I'm sure," Regent, "You in a couple of days probably," The girl in the drab colours.

No one talked for a couple of seconds after that.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but if you're going to be staying with us, you might as well take your...mask off." Grue and the others took their own masks off as he said that, the caution no longer needed. The bug eyed girl took a second longer than everyone else.

"Yeah, this thing is stupid," He had spent too long with his nose in Lancer's musk to feel comfortable in his sexual orientation. Also with everyone's masks off he could see the judgment in their eyes. The Hawaiian bandana wasn't doing his dignity any favours, "I promise I won't be trouble."

"Good, good. We don't want that either. You won't be talking with us in our civilian identities so I won't bother with names. I...hope you have a nice stay." The last sentence was intoned with a mix of confusion and no small amount of frustration. "Bitch, put the dogs back away..."

And with that, Ty was left alone. Without any reason to approach, it was surprisingly difficult to talk to anyone. Socialising was always so much harder after the initial greeting. The fact that they were younger actually made Tyrone more hesitant to approach them for idle talk.

He walked over to Tattletale.

Ty knew these kids were villains, but for him the particulars of this world's laws weren't that important to him. He had no interest in arresting them. In fact, he wouldn't mind befriending them. They seemed nice. Still, he knew to keep his wits — what little he had — about him. These 'kids' were part of the world that included people like Lung, and Kaiser. He had seen crime movies before. If they had taught him anything, it was how dangerous it was to get involved with criminals in any way, even without powers getting to their heads.

He wondered briefly if powers would get them to act more like super villains, or if they just committed normal crimes, like the Undersiders, but with powers. Obviously, people like Kaiser were a little more ideologically motivated than other criminals. Did that make him more dangerous, or less? That line of thinking was dropped when he remembered his skin tone. More dangerous. Probably. Kaiser probably didn't like the Undersiders too. Then again, Grue's mask covered his entire face, so it was up in the air whether or not Kaiser had any racial beef with the group.

"Um...did you want something?" Tattletale was staring at him expectantly.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I wanted to ask you something. Do you have any food? I'm hungry."

"Yeah, check the fridge."

"Cheers." He then went to check the fridge for chocolate.

Maybe Kaiser can tell he's black by the sound of his voice...But when would they speak...God, I wish the villains here had some sort of monthly evil gathering, that would be so cool...I think I'd want to be a villain if that were true...