Orange Juice

Juice is the name I go by, once the sun has risen. Your run-of-the-mill catgirl. Kind of a natural beauty, with a resplendent bob of hair. Also known to be a regular at Pawn's Café. After all, Pawn has been a dear friend of mine for as long as I can remember, and I'm only in my twenties...

The night, however, I'm a totally different person. No more a civilian, I belong to the forces that ward off evil from corrupting Pastelove! My eyes are peerless when it comes to unveiling the secrets of the shadows. Code name: Orange Juice. The other guards dubbed me so as I solved one more case in a flash of orange—my hair by the wind.

Tonight again, the moonlight colors the town I have grown fond of. As I pick up the countless scents, I salivate a bit... It's not my fault, there are mouse people nearby! A natural occurrence; but I know better than to be swayed by my instincts. This is what this country stands for, a lasting peace for all of Animality. Purring with pride, I stop in my tracks. A truly high sound resounds in the distance—one that some animal folks may not identify clearly, but I can.
"Help me! Anybody!"

The voice belongs to a mothgirl, and is particularly shrill. I rush over there with urgency, knowing the town like my pocket. Throughout the streets, I realize where I am heading: the bats' quarter. If I don't hurry, something especially bad could happen! Moths are really frail.
"No, don't touch me!"

My brains can't help but depict horrendous scenes, as a faint scent of blood loiters near my destination. Bats are known to crave for blood, a reason they are often feared in Pastelove, and throughout Praline Kingdom... To quell this desire takes a big mental toll on some human bats. As I approach, I can smell different presences. Bats and moths.
"What is going on?! Stop any wrongdoing! The hammer of justice has come to strike!"
Looking at the scene before my eyes, though it is night I can see in perfect detail the circle formed by both moths and bats. At its core, a sort of arena where two frail moths are ensnared, as if made to fight. One stops hitting the other on her blood-painted wings. A big bat woman walks up to me, as everyone else falls silent.
"Who do you think you are? Strolling like that on our turf, uh?!"
"Blood Mama! She is a guard, Orange Juice!"
"Orange Juice?! What do I care her name? Crush her!"
All claws out, I pounce on the so-called leader, Blood Mama. With such dark societies, the law of the strongest dominates. However, she proves a fantastic foe, fending off my attacks and attempting to bite me, avoiding my hits by flying on a short notice...
"Bats! Moths! If you want to party and drink, if you like your entertainment! It is time to defend the leader that allows for it to even happen!"
The horde formed by both species runs towards us as Blood Mama tries to keep a distance between us. At this rate, her plan might work! Suddenly, a series of noises that feels able to rend the earth is heard. It's an electric guitar, producing sound well above what a normal instrument should be able to...