The mobility scooter whined under her weight like a chastised dog as Malevola rolled into the hero HQ's break room. Her tail flicked idly, knocking over a stack of protein bar boxes with a clatter.

She didn't bother apologizing. Instead, she leaned forward—or tried to, her stomach audibly squelching against the scooter's dashboard—and snagged a fistful of donuts from the communal box. Powdered sugar snowed onto her leotard's straining fabric.

"Oi, Visi," she called around a mouthful of glaze, yellow eyes narrowing at her fellow co-worker.