Misfits
The pizza place was unusually quiet for a Saturday. The Wombat didn't mind. He slid into his usual booth and waited for the others to show up, blinking against the light that shone through the multicolored lampshade over the table. He was used to working in the dark.
A shadow fell over the table, a shadow that wavered like the rustling of trees in a summer wind. "Greetings, Wombat. I trust you are well?"
"Hey, Ron. Yeah, I'm okay. You?"
"I have been communing with the forces of nature in Madison Park," Ron intoned as he planted himself in the booth opposite. "Listening to the beating heart of the ecosystem."
"Didn't know they had an ecosystem in Madison," the Wombat said. "What've they got, squirrels?"
"Exceptionally communicative squirrels," Ron said solemnly.
The Wombat had never yet been able to determine if Ron Raven had a sense of humor. Gaseous Girl said he didn't, but then she wasn't always a barrel of laughs herself. Further thoughts along that line were interrupted as the superheroine herself appeared, smelling faintly of ash. "Hey, Ron, Wombat. How's the burrowing?"
"Fine," the Wombat said. "You know there's giant rats in the eastside sewer now?"
"Lovely," Gaseous Girl said. "Doctor what's his name again, isn't it."
"Looks like."
"The squirrels have said as much to me," Ron interjected. "I could go and attempt to commune with the unusually large rodents."
Gaseous Girl rolled her eyes. "Sure. Commune with the giant ravenous beastie that wants to eat your head. I'd just as soon flame ‘em.”
“No need,” the Wombat said. “I used my whole stash of wombombs. Shouldn’t see them down there for a while.”
Ron rose from his side of the booth in high outrage. Before he could unleash his wrath, however, the fourth member of their small group arrived. The Green Moth glided elegantly into the seat alongside Gaseous Girl. No one was entirely clear about the nature of the Green Moth's powers. When asked, she would explain languidly that they involved "manipulating the quantum polarity matrix that underlies the fundamental order of the universe, of course.” Gaseous Girl privately thought this was all bunk, but she wouldn't have been so rude as to say that out loud.
The usual waitress appeared then and took their drink orders. As she left to get Gaseous Girl's root beer and Ron Raven's herbal tea, the Wombat asked if anyone had fought anything more interesting than giant sewer rats. "The Tree Killer stuck again," Ron Raven growled. "Cut down a nice sapling at the edge of the park. I had harsh words with the squirrels about it."
"Shame," the Wombat said. "There's not nearly enough trees these days."
"Tell me about it," Gaseous Girl said. "It's all malls and chain fast food places. You can't even get a good abandoned warehouse anymore to fight the bad guys in. You know where Crudmuffin was the other day? Wal-Mart. Yeah. Cleanup on aisle five, right?"
The Wombat laughed, and even Ron Raven's glower lightened up ever so slightly in as close to amusement as he ever got. The Green Moth said nothing. She continued to say nothing as the talk turned back to the giant sewer rats. She had powers, all right. Phenomenal powers. Powers that would make the others sit up and take notice, they surely would. The trouble was, no one had ever emerged as a nemesis for the Green Moth. Gaseous Girl had Crudmuffin, Ron Raven had Tree Killer, even the Wombat had the giant sewer rats. The Green Moth? Nothing.
She sighed as the waitress returned with their drinks. No one noticed her sigh.
No one ever noticed the Green Moth.
Not yet, anyway.
Note: I wrote this some years ago: this was the story which grew into the novel “Who Killed Ron Raven?”, which you can find on Amazon. I tweaked a few elements, naturally.