My unofficial office was the safe place in my whirlwind of a world. I brought in trinkets all the time to work on booby traps, training equipment, and my personal hobby in fashion design. Booby traps went hand in hand with stealthy strategizing, which was my expertise. New equipment gave way to new perspectives and techniques, especially for the older recruits who were mostly set in their ways. As for fashion design, appearance was the most important part of Stealth.
When the new recruit came in, I was in the middle of practicing hands free fighting. My favorite style due to its low chance of death, I practiced whenever possible. At this moment, I was sitting on the ground in between piles of weapons and scrap metal, lifting daggers into the air with telekinesis, holding them midair for a moment, and then slammed them into the perfectly packed dirt walls. Practicing no hands weaponry was increasingly useful, especially if I could master multiple daggers at a time while still having use of my hands. It was ambitious, but I enjoyed the risk when the reward was so delicious.
The new girl was petite with a small frame perfect for sneaking around. I understood immediately why she had been assigned to my guidance. She was around fourteen, fifteen tops, which was not uncommon. I had been far younger than that average, but coming here at eight years old was not unheard of.
Looking at the girl, I saw potential. Under my leadership, she had the capability to do great things. Underestimating based on age was not done here. With so many young adults and children, you would get a knife to the throat if you underestimated the wrong person. Some of the Magia legends had been even younger than I was.
The girl had on a standard black mask given to newbies with her black hair pulled back in a high ponytail. It was so long and straight I could stick a ruler up to it and not find a divot. "Um... they sent me in here. I am supposed to report to... Scrap?" she said in a shy tone, picking at her nails.
"That's me," I said as I got up, letting the daggers hover around me in the air.
"Why do they call you that?" she asked curiously.
"Everyone gets a nickname here to keep secrets safe. I received my nickname based on my ability to pull substance out of scraps. Apparently, I always have some scraps of magic squirreled away to use. And I've always been scrawny and scrappy, sort of like you. It's a name of many meanings."
"Wow. I suppose it fits." She gave herself long pauses between every sentence. "My name is—"
"Nope! Don't. I don't need to know. Trust me. Treat everyone here on a need-to-know basis. I have a wider range of things I need to know about you, because I'm your Godmother, but your name isn't one them." I shook my finger slightly.
"Godmother?"
"What have they told you about where you are? How did you get here?"
"Um... they have not told me much. It is a rebel crime organization... and it is underground... and I was told they could use my skills. I am unsure if I should tell you how they recruited me, since it connects to who I am in my daily life."
"Well, I know you're a noble. Probably live pretty close to the castle. Parents are probably both a part of the court." I tapped my chin. "I bet you grew up in old money, big house, heir to something 'important.'"
"Wha—How do you know that?" she asked, backing away from me. My hunch was very correct, then.
"It's in the way you talk. You speak in formal language to the extremity. It's not a bad thing, just take note of it." I smiled reassuringly at her. "Work on it a little bit. Not every word has to be perfectly enunciated. And slouch a bit. It doesn't really matter, though."
She nodded. "Okay. Can do. I think."
"Walk with me." I gestured for her to follow. I grabbed my daggers and strapped them to my belt. "Okay, so they've told you basically nothing, yes? Alright then. I'm Scrap, and I'm your Godmother. I look small, but I've been here nine years, and I've done a lot more for this place than most of these bozos. You're a part of the Magia now. We're undercover rebels, but it's a crime organization, sort of like an extreme Robin Hood. We've got conmen, thieves, spies, planners, soldiers, and lots more. As Department Head of Stealth, I, and by extension, you, mostly work with the thieves and the spies. Actually, we are the thieves and the spies.
People are dying in this country, and we work on...distributing the wealth. Preparing for a day where all people are equal, and doing our best to help people until that day. Even if it's in unlawful ways. You might be better at staying here and working behind the scenes if you enjoy your life at home. We don't need any sympathizers out in the field."
"Trust me, I'm not a sympathizer." She said it with such conviction I did not question her.
"Alright then. We have people all over, and they all have different talents. So let me ask you this: what can you do for me?"
"I notice things. I understand patterns, have a good memory, understand when something is different or wrong. I can also pick most locks. I learned as a kid for fun and worked on more and more challenging ones as I got better."
"I understand why you're with me then, Kid. I'm the head of the 'sneaking around team.' And I understand why you're with me today of all days." We walked up to a door and I banged on it, hard. The girl jumped. No one answered immediately, so I banged on it again.
The door opened to a boy with a smoking hot body, but an expression that ruined his attractiveness. His face had grumpiness etched into every line. I made a bet with myself that he would have permanent frown lines as he grew old. "Hello, Blade," I said cheerfully.
"I hate you. What the hell are you doing here, Scrap? Leave me alone. I'm busy." He was furious, but I just kept smiling widely. He had a hood thrown over his head, a navy blue mask covering his face and forehead. His mask covered most of his face, consisting of two lines sloped at a ninety degree angle to form a triangle down over his nose.
"Ooh, you got someone in there?" I peeked around the door and saw my friend Fawn. Her mask was shaped like a deer, hence the name. "Why, hello Fawn. It's great to see you. How's your mom doing?"
"Hi, Scrap. She's real good. Just had an appointment yesterday, she's in even better health than we thought." Her hair was brown and curly and sticking all over the place, like always.
"That's great. Send my love. To your sister, too." I smiled at her. Blade looked between us with loathing. He was not happy about our interaction, but there was no law banning me from talking to my friends. "I need to steal Blade away for a time. I'll see you around soon, hun."
"I will. We really need to catch up sometime. Bye bye, Scrap, Blade." She smiled and skipped off. She was only a year younger than me, but she was adorable like a little kid.
"Do you know everyone?" Blade complained.
"It's not a crime to be friendly. Do you make out with everyone?" I countered, crossing my arms.
"You cast me as some constant player, which is so typical Scrap. Making high and mighty assumptions before you even know what's happening. We were just talking." I knew what it was like, being tempted by him, and I knew for a fact that more than once, girls had given in. Most of my girl friends had developed at least some attraction towards him for a time.
"I think you're just bitter because people actually like me." People liked Blade, but a lot more for the sculpted muscles in his arms than the serious attitude he upheld.
"I can't imagine why they would. You're insufferable."
"And you're cynical. But we have to go on a mission, that's why I came and found you. It'll be quick." He glared at me before I said, "I don't want this any more than you do. Capo's orders, you don't have a choice. I'm your boss until we get this done."
He was not happy about that. He fumed, turning his gaze on the girl standing quietly behind me. "Who's that?"
"No name yet. New. Isn't that right, Kid? This is Blade."
"Bet you can guess what my skill is," he said with a wicked smirk. He was standing in the weaponry, lined by silver on all sides. He grabbed a scimitar and a double sided axe, sheathing them on his back. He covered them with another cloak, overtop of the hooded overcoat he was already wearing. "We better make this quick," he said with disdain.
"Gladly. But I'm boss this time," I said smugly. The last time we had worked together on an assignment, Blade had been absolutely insufferable and I was more than ready for revenge, even if that meant spending time with the jerk.
"What are we doing?" the Kid flanking us asked. "What type of things do you all do?"
"Do you—" Blade began, but I cut him off right away.
I stayed a foot in front of both of them, walking quickly through the dark hallways. "If you were going to shush her, don't. And if you were going to answer, don't. I'm her Godmother, I can handle this."
He scoffed quickly. "And you really think you can handle that? Don't they remember what happened to the last kid you mentored?"
"Shut up. That was once. But anyway, Kid, he's an idiot, the only thing he's semi useful for is his weapons skills."
"Semi—?!"
"Shut up! So, right now, we're a Stealth team. Sneaking out and around the city, mostly used for thievery. That's what we're doing now. We go to houses of nobles and we take. They don't need all that stuff, anyway. Other people have lots of different jobs. Hijacking trucks, stealing shipments, stuff like that. Working here at the base, as backup or outside help. Extortion: Forceful threats for money, though that's never been my place. I'm not an intimidating person. Too small." I thought I heard Blade mutter something scathing under his breath, but I pretended not to hear it. "A few deal with illegal imports, bringing things into the country that shouldn't be in the country."
"You gonna tell her all our secrets?" Blade scoffed again, and I hit his arm.
"If she tells anyone, then we know. And I trust her anyway. What do you think she's going to do, run and tell the king? She's already here, she knows enough that she could blab, except she can't. I set up really strong magic wards myself. She can't say a word, and I trust her anyways. Obviously you've never been a Godfather."
He frowned deeply at me. "Oh, you set up those wards yourself. Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"They've worked for years, haven't they?" We reached the stairs leading up. This was the closest exit to our destination. "It's time to go up. Now, I need you to shut your trap as we walk these streets or else I will flog you myself before you can even touch those pretty little metal toothpicks you've got strapped to your back. Now, let's head out." We walked up the stairs and emerged into the dark of night, wolves in the moonlight, stalking our chosen prey.