08-15-2008, 12:32 AM
TALES OF THE LEGENDARY
PURRFECT TIMING
-//-----
In the dark cavern only the sound of soft, regular breathing revealed the presence of life. To one possessing night-sight, the faint glow peeking under the
sturdy and poorly-constructed door separating the chamber from the rest of the tunnels provided just enough light to make out a curled-up figure sleeping
peacefully on bare rock.
It was a girl... albeit a girl with unusual characteristics. Colloquially referred to as a catgirl, this one displayed the usual physical attributes: feline
ears poking through human-like hair; a restless tail; sharp fangs peeking from behind ordinary-seeming lips. She was dressed in little more than a layer of
dirt and straggly fur, and was skinny and malnourished; but a smile decorated her sleeping face and occasionally she would murmur something, a name perhaps,
without waking.
The sound of approaching feet caused her ears to twitch; by the time the footfalls stopped and the rattling of the door began, she was fully awake. She
crouched against the back wall of her prison cell, watching the door intently with a strange combination of predatory instincts and prey-like apprehension.
The door rattled again and swung open on crooked hinges, revealing a large, human-like figure. Human-like; but not human, not any longer. It was a troll,
born of science and drugs rather than magic and myth, but possessed of the same temperament and strength as the creatures of legend.
And the same sadistic sense of humor, thought the catgirl, but she kept it to herself. Her feline instincts screamed at her to attack; her human intelligence
warned her against such rash acts. As a result she remained silent and trembling, but survived.
As always, survival was all that mattered.
"Good kitty!" rumbled the troll approvingly. "Already awake. Time to work."
"My name is Sammy," she said defiantly, but without true heat. It was a game the troll enjoyed. It was one of the liberties she was permitted,
talking back to her owner, as long as she performed. Her fur involuntarily bristled, a natural instinct that was supposed to make her look bigger, more
threatening. Facing the troll, it was useless.
"Here, kitty, kitty," the troll said, stepping back and gesturing, a thin cord dangling from one massive paw. She didn't know his name, and
didn't care. It didn't matter. He was the third troll who'd had her since she was taken from the streets above, and was her current owner by
troll custom: he'd wanted her, so he beat up the troll who'd owned her before, just like that one had done to the one who'd captured her. At this
point she could barely tell any of them apart, save for the bracelet around the beefy wrist. Her bracelet, the only thing she'd ever owned that had always
been hers and a gift from a long-lost friend; now a symbol of ownership. The charms that she'd painstakingly gathered -- one for each of her family, that
collection of misfits struggling to survive in a city gone mad -- dangled and flashed reflected firelight into the room.
She rose to her feet and began to move towards the doorway -- can't keep the boss waiting, she thought ruefully -- and stopped as the green giant scowled,
exposing chipped and cracked tusks badly in need of dental attention.
"Kitties can't walk like two-legs," the troll said firmly. Sam paused for a moment, weighing her options. Then, as usual, she decided that
petty resistance wasn't worth the punishment. She dropped to all fours and docilely moved out into the tunnel. Cat-walking didn't bother her,
particularly -- she'd been a cat her whole life, and regularly ran on all fours when others weren't around to mock her for it -- but all the same, it
rankled to be told what to do by a stinking troll... and worse, to have to do it.
"Kitty do good today, kitty get GOOD food," the troll promised, clipping the grimy rope to her heavy leather collar -- another insult, but one that
she'd stopped fighting a long time ago. They just held her down and put it on again when she managed to tear it off, and they weren't gentle about it.
She grimaced. Doing good could mean too many things. She was a circus sideshow, a freak on a leash for the trolls, and whenever the urge for entertainment
struck them they'd haul out a captive or three for some form of sport. She didn't know what it would be today. With the trolls, it was usually
degrading, dangerous, or both.
Or it could merely be bone-breaking, spirit-crushing, hazardous menial labor. The trolls had some big project going on, she knew that much, but they'd
been careful to keep her deep in the warrens. She supposed she couldn't blame them. If she had room to run she could leave even the fastest of them in
the dust.
Her captor burst into horrible song, obviously cheerful about the day ahead. She flattened her ears back and tried not to listen. Thus it was that even she,
with her superior hearing, didn't notice the sound of an arrow being nocked and drawn, or its whistling flight through the air, until it was too late to
make a difference.
Not that she would have tried to stop it, had she known it was coming.
-//-----
Just Another Archer crept through the tunnels of the Troll headquarters. Her team was scattered; though they were regrouping on her position, she was alone
for the moment.
Well, not quite alone, she thought, as a small furry shadow detached itself from the darkness between two boulders and came her way. She knelt briefly to
allow Neko easy access to her shoulder.
"There's a Troll up ahead," Neko whispered. "Around the corner, about twenty yards. He's got a slave with him!"
Alice's eyes narrowed and she scowled. "He's alone?"
Neko nodded. "Yes. If we're quiet, we can--"
Just then, a terrible racket burst out, echoing down the cavern. Alice and Neko winced.
"What IS that?" Alice said, cringing away from the horrible noise.
"I think... I think he's singing," Neko replied dubiously. "Either that or he's trying to summon an ancient abomination from beyond
space and time." At her companion's incredulous look, Neko shrugged. "What? He's not likely to succeed, he's got the cadence all wrong
and he mispronounced the fourteenth syllable."
"I wonder about you sometimes," Alice said. She moved forward, edging around the corner and stopping in a patch of shadow. She could see the troll,
and just behind him, on hands and knees, his captive.
Alice nocked an arrow and raised her bow, taking aim carefully. Neko crouched low, shifting her weight to help balance the bow and steady her partner's
aim. Then Alice let fly.
-//-----
Thwip! The first arrow plunged into the troll's open mouth, silencing his ugly crooning and slamming him back into the wall. The second followed in quick
succession, slamming home into his flailing arm and pinning that to the rock. The third hid dead-center on his chest with a meaty thud.
Sam's eyes widened and she jerked back as the fourth arrow neatly severed the rope just beyond the end of her nose. She tumbled backwards in surprise and
lay stunned on her hands and feet, staring up at her former captor with wide eyes.
For his part, the troll seemed unamused. He roared and ripped his arm free of the wall, jerking the arrow out of his mouth with his free hand at the same
time. The arrow in his chest he ignored completely, bending over to rip a great hunk of rock out of the cavern floor and raising it over his head to hurl.
"Get down!" a voice cried, and Sam obeyed, throwing her arms over her head and rolling to burrow face-first into the dirt.
BOOM. A wash of heat rolled over her, the shockwave sending her sliding a few feet along the floor. The cavern shook, dirt and small rocks cascading down
from the ceiling, as an explosive arrow slammed into the troll. He was flung backwards by the detonation, landing sprawled on his back with a startled grunt,
and immediately began to clamber back to his feet. Sam stayed on her hands and feet and scurried to the side, diving behind a clump of boulders and peeking
out just in time to see an arrow blazing with bright yellow flame burst against the rising troll, scattering flaming debris in all directions. The troll beat
the flames out with angry fists and roared again, arching his back in defiant rage. Then he lumbered into a run, straight towards the newcomer. Sam peered
into the dust-filled darkness.
A hero! She was magnificent, standing tall and proud, nocking another arrow on her powerful bow and drawing it back with no sign of effort. Her face was
obscured by the bow; all Sam could see clearly was one cheek and eye; lips set in a scowl of determination, eye glinting with suppressed fury, almost fully
closed as she sighted down the length of her arrow.
The the archer opened her fingers, releasing the string, and again the cavern echoed to an explosion. This one the troll charged through without breaking
stride, drawing back one massive fist and releasing it in a powerful uppercut that sent the hero flying backwards, out of sight into the next tunnel in the
warren. Sam half-rose to her feet, then subsided as a flurry of arrows came whistling out of the darkness, several hitting the troll, the rest plunging into
the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Amazing! She'd seen the trolls hit each other like that, and had come to expect that it did them no lasting harm. But she'd also seen a captive, a
defiant young man, hit like that... and he had never gotten up again.
Her ears swiveled and she crouched lower, fangs exposed in a silent hiss. More trolls charged up the passageway, summoned by the sounds of combat. Jostling
and jeering at each other, each clamoring to be the first to engage the intruders, they boiled past her hiding spot without noticing her.
They reached the tunnel where the fight was taking place, and for a moment there was silence. Very clearly, Sam could hear a plaintive "Aw, -crap-,"
come around the corner. Then another explosive arrow flashed into the tightly packed trolls, sending them flying in all directions like bowling pins.
The trolls regrouped, charging into the tunnel like a living cork, and Sam -moved-. She darted out from behind her cover, sticking to the wall and staying as
low and as silent as her feline nature would let her. She paused for only a moment at the three-way junction, peering into the flaming, dust-filled murk that
the side tunnel had become, and saw a sight that would, she knew, remain with her for the rest of her life.
Beset on all sides, the archer stood defiant behind a low ridge in the tunnel. The trolls were charging en masse over the ridge, and each was met by an arrow
as they crested the rise. There was no fear in the archer's stance, only a fierce determination that practically screamed that if she was going down then
by god ALL of them were going down with her.
Sam thanked her silently with tears in her eyes, and turned to run. A glint in the dirt caught her eye; she bent lower and smiled. Her bracelet, torn free
from her former owner by some freak accident, lay there. She scooped it up and quickly fastened it back on her own wrist where it belonged.
Then she used every ounce of speed and stealth she possessed, trusting her nose to lead her towards the freshest air, and freedom.
I don't know who you are, she thought to herself as she prowled the warren. But I'll remember you for the rest of my life.
-//-----
Alice dropped to one knee, exhausted and panting. Neko rubbed against her cheek in comfort.
"Did she *wheeze* get out?" Alice managed to say. Around her lay a half-dozen trolls, with more scattered along the tunnel. She'd been forced
to fight a holding action until her team had arrived. It had been a close thing.
And it meant that, in the ruckus, she'd lost track of the slave she'd been trying to rescue.
"I believe so," Neko replied. "I saw her for a moment, just barely. She was sneaking away while we held the trolls' attention."
"Oh, good." Alice stayed there a moment, recovering her strength. Her teammates were further down the tunnel, clearing up the stragglers. Alice
rose and nocked a burning arrow on her bow and trotted down the corridor to find them.
"I hope she makes it out okay," she added. Neko nodded. Up ahead, another contingent of trolls poured out of a cross-tunnel.
With a defiant battlecry, Neko and Archer leaped into the fray.
-//-----
The doors to Atlas Park's City Hall building burst open and a red-and-black blur streaked out.
"I got it I got it I got it!" Sammy yelled in glee, tackling a taller, almost professorial figure and whirling her around. She let go -- the older
woman adjusted her glasses and raised an eyebrow in amusement -- and proudly displayed the nearly-indestructable card. A class-H (provisional) license winked
in the afternoon sun.
"Indeed you did," she noted mildly. "And even the name you wanted. Congratulations, Samantha. Or should I refer to you as Purrfect Scrapper
now?" She smiled down at the exuberant catgirl.
"Mrs. Wilde! You can keep calling me Sam, or Sammy, or, well, just about anything." She closed her eyes and hugged the card to her chest. "I
owe you guys everything."
"Not quite everything," the Headmistress of the Home for Wayward Catgirls replied.
"No... not quite," Sammy agreed, smiling. She tucked the card away and smoothed her sweater. "I have to find the Archer."
"Well. It's good to see one of you young ladies show some drive and ambition," the Headmistress noted. "Be sure and write once in a while
to tell us how things are going. And remember, Samantha... we're there if you need us."
"I will! And... thank you again."
"Our pleasure, dear. It's what the Home is there for, after all." The woman smiled. "Now, I must be off if I'm to catch the train on
time. So many of you leaving all at once... it must be something in the air."
She hugged Sammy again, briefly, then turned and strode briskly down the steps toward the waiting sedan. Sam watched her go with a fond smile. The Home had
been just what she needed, at the time... but it was time to move on.
She sat on the ledge overlooking the street, ignoring the commotion behind her as heroes came and went and danced and talked, and took out a small notebook,
opening it in her lap and flipping slowly through the pages.
A newspaper clipping. "JUST ANOTHER ARCHER RESCUES SLAVES", referring to that long-ago day when her hero had appeared out of nowhere. A folded
piece of paper, a printout from the library, showing when the Archer had changed her hero name from Just Another Archer to Purrfect Archer. Here was another
photo clipping, taken in this very plaza on the day Archer had joined The Legendary. And so on. The notebook held every scrap of information Sam had, and it
wasn't quite enough. She still didn't know who the girl was, or how to contact her.
But that was about to change. Yes, it was time. Time to take control of her own life for a change. Time to find the hero who'd saved her, who had made
it all possible. Who she wanted to be like more than anyone else in the world.
Grinning to herself, Purrfect Scrapper jumped lightly down from the plaza and set to work. Surely ONE of these gang members would have an idea where to find
the Purrfect Archer. All she had to do was shake it out of them.
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
PURRFECT TIMING
-//-----
In the dark cavern only the sound of soft, regular breathing revealed the presence of life. To one possessing night-sight, the faint glow peeking under the
sturdy and poorly-constructed door separating the chamber from the rest of the tunnels provided just enough light to make out a curled-up figure sleeping
peacefully on bare rock.
It was a girl... albeit a girl with unusual characteristics. Colloquially referred to as a catgirl, this one displayed the usual physical attributes: feline
ears poking through human-like hair; a restless tail; sharp fangs peeking from behind ordinary-seeming lips. She was dressed in little more than a layer of
dirt and straggly fur, and was skinny and malnourished; but a smile decorated her sleeping face and occasionally she would murmur something, a name perhaps,
without waking.
The sound of approaching feet caused her ears to twitch; by the time the footfalls stopped and the rattling of the door began, she was fully awake. She
crouched against the back wall of her prison cell, watching the door intently with a strange combination of predatory instincts and prey-like apprehension.
The door rattled again and swung open on crooked hinges, revealing a large, human-like figure. Human-like; but not human, not any longer. It was a troll,
born of science and drugs rather than magic and myth, but possessed of the same temperament and strength as the creatures of legend.
And the same sadistic sense of humor, thought the catgirl, but she kept it to herself. Her feline instincts screamed at her to attack; her human intelligence
warned her against such rash acts. As a result she remained silent and trembling, but survived.
As always, survival was all that mattered.
"Good kitty!" rumbled the troll approvingly. "Already awake. Time to work."
"My name is Sammy," she said defiantly, but without true heat. It was a game the troll enjoyed. It was one of the liberties she was permitted,
talking back to her owner, as long as she performed. Her fur involuntarily bristled, a natural instinct that was supposed to make her look bigger, more
threatening. Facing the troll, it was useless.
"Here, kitty, kitty," the troll said, stepping back and gesturing, a thin cord dangling from one massive paw. She didn't know his name, and
didn't care. It didn't matter. He was the third troll who'd had her since she was taken from the streets above, and was her current owner by
troll custom: he'd wanted her, so he beat up the troll who'd owned her before, just like that one had done to the one who'd captured her. At this
point she could barely tell any of them apart, save for the bracelet around the beefy wrist. Her bracelet, the only thing she'd ever owned that had always
been hers and a gift from a long-lost friend; now a symbol of ownership. The charms that she'd painstakingly gathered -- one for each of her family, that
collection of misfits struggling to survive in a city gone mad -- dangled and flashed reflected firelight into the room.
She rose to her feet and began to move towards the doorway -- can't keep the boss waiting, she thought ruefully -- and stopped as the green giant scowled,
exposing chipped and cracked tusks badly in need of dental attention.
"Kitties can't walk like two-legs," the troll said firmly. Sam paused for a moment, weighing her options. Then, as usual, she decided that
petty resistance wasn't worth the punishment. She dropped to all fours and docilely moved out into the tunnel. Cat-walking didn't bother her,
particularly -- she'd been a cat her whole life, and regularly ran on all fours when others weren't around to mock her for it -- but all the same, it
rankled to be told what to do by a stinking troll... and worse, to have to do it.
"Kitty do good today, kitty get GOOD food," the troll promised, clipping the grimy rope to her heavy leather collar -- another insult, but one that
she'd stopped fighting a long time ago. They just held her down and put it on again when she managed to tear it off, and they weren't gentle about it.
She grimaced. Doing good could mean too many things. She was a circus sideshow, a freak on a leash for the trolls, and whenever the urge for entertainment
struck them they'd haul out a captive or three for some form of sport. She didn't know what it would be today. With the trolls, it was usually
degrading, dangerous, or both.
Or it could merely be bone-breaking, spirit-crushing, hazardous menial labor. The trolls had some big project going on, she knew that much, but they'd
been careful to keep her deep in the warrens. She supposed she couldn't blame them. If she had room to run she could leave even the fastest of them in
the dust.
Her captor burst into horrible song, obviously cheerful about the day ahead. She flattened her ears back and tried not to listen. Thus it was that even she,
with her superior hearing, didn't notice the sound of an arrow being nocked and drawn, or its whistling flight through the air, until it was too late to
make a difference.
Not that she would have tried to stop it, had she known it was coming.
-//-----
Just Another Archer crept through the tunnels of the Troll headquarters. Her team was scattered; though they were regrouping on her position, she was alone
for the moment.
Well, not quite alone, she thought, as a small furry shadow detached itself from the darkness between two boulders and came her way. She knelt briefly to
allow Neko easy access to her shoulder.
"There's a Troll up ahead," Neko whispered. "Around the corner, about twenty yards. He's got a slave with him!"
Alice's eyes narrowed and she scowled. "He's alone?"
Neko nodded. "Yes. If we're quiet, we can--"
Just then, a terrible racket burst out, echoing down the cavern. Alice and Neko winced.
"What IS that?" Alice said, cringing away from the horrible noise.
"I think... I think he's singing," Neko replied dubiously. "Either that or he's trying to summon an ancient abomination from beyond
space and time." At her companion's incredulous look, Neko shrugged. "What? He's not likely to succeed, he's got the cadence all wrong
and he mispronounced the fourteenth syllable."
"I wonder about you sometimes," Alice said. She moved forward, edging around the corner and stopping in a patch of shadow. She could see the troll,
and just behind him, on hands and knees, his captive.
Alice nocked an arrow and raised her bow, taking aim carefully. Neko crouched low, shifting her weight to help balance the bow and steady her partner's
aim. Then Alice let fly.
-//-----
Thwip! The first arrow plunged into the troll's open mouth, silencing his ugly crooning and slamming him back into the wall. The second followed in quick
succession, slamming home into his flailing arm and pinning that to the rock. The third hid dead-center on his chest with a meaty thud.
Sam's eyes widened and she jerked back as the fourth arrow neatly severed the rope just beyond the end of her nose. She tumbled backwards in surprise and
lay stunned on her hands and feet, staring up at her former captor with wide eyes.
For his part, the troll seemed unamused. He roared and ripped his arm free of the wall, jerking the arrow out of his mouth with his free hand at the same
time. The arrow in his chest he ignored completely, bending over to rip a great hunk of rock out of the cavern floor and raising it over his head to hurl.
"Get down!" a voice cried, and Sam obeyed, throwing her arms over her head and rolling to burrow face-first into the dirt.
BOOM. A wash of heat rolled over her, the shockwave sending her sliding a few feet along the floor. The cavern shook, dirt and small rocks cascading down
from the ceiling, as an explosive arrow slammed into the troll. He was flung backwards by the detonation, landing sprawled on his back with a startled grunt,
and immediately began to clamber back to his feet. Sam stayed on her hands and feet and scurried to the side, diving behind a clump of boulders and peeking
out just in time to see an arrow blazing with bright yellow flame burst against the rising troll, scattering flaming debris in all directions. The troll beat
the flames out with angry fists and roared again, arching his back in defiant rage. Then he lumbered into a run, straight towards the newcomer. Sam peered
into the dust-filled darkness.
A hero! She was magnificent, standing tall and proud, nocking another arrow on her powerful bow and drawing it back with no sign of effort. Her face was
obscured by the bow; all Sam could see clearly was one cheek and eye; lips set in a scowl of determination, eye glinting with suppressed fury, almost fully
closed as she sighted down the length of her arrow.
The the archer opened her fingers, releasing the string, and again the cavern echoed to an explosion. This one the troll charged through without breaking
stride, drawing back one massive fist and releasing it in a powerful uppercut that sent the hero flying backwards, out of sight into the next tunnel in the
warren. Sam half-rose to her feet, then subsided as a flurry of arrows came whistling out of the darkness, several hitting the troll, the rest plunging into
the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Amazing! She'd seen the trolls hit each other like that, and had come to expect that it did them no lasting harm. But she'd also seen a captive, a
defiant young man, hit like that... and he had never gotten up again.
Her ears swiveled and she crouched lower, fangs exposed in a silent hiss. More trolls charged up the passageway, summoned by the sounds of combat. Jostling
and jeering at each other, each clamoring to be the first to engage the intruders, they boiled past her hiding spot without noticing her.
They reached the tunnel where the fight was taking place, and for a moment there was silence. Very clearly, Sam could hear a plaintive "Aw, -crap-,"
come around the corner. Then another explosive arrow flashed into the tightly packed trolls, sending them flying in all directions like bowling pins.
The trolls regrouped, charging into the tunnel like a living cork, and Sam -moved-. She darted out from behind her cover, sticking to the wall and staying as
low and as silent as her feline nature would let her. She paused for only a moment at the three-way junction, peering into the flaming, dust-filled murk that
the side tunnel had become, and saw a sight that would, she knew, remain with her for the rest of her life.
Beset on all sides, the archer stood defiant behind a low ridge in the tunnel. The trolls were charging en masse over the ridge, and each was met by an arrow
as they crested the rise. There was no fear in the archer's stance, only a fierce determination that practically screamed that if she was going down then
by god ALL of them were going down with her.
Sam thanked her silently with tears in her eyes, and turned to run. A glint in the dirt caught her eye; she bent lower and smiled. Her bracelet, torn free
from her former owner by some freak accident, lay there. She scooped it up and quickly fastened it back on her own wrist where it belonged.
Then she used every ounce of speed and stealth she possessed, trusting her nose to lead her towards the freshest air, and freedom.
I don't know who you are, she thought to herself as she prowled the warren. But I'll remember you for the rest of my life.
-//-----
Alice dropped to one knee, exhausted and panting. Neko rubbed against her cheek in comfort.
"Did she *wheeze* get out?" Alice managed to say. Around her lay a half-dozen trolls, with more scattered along the tunnel. She'd been forced
to fight a holding action until her team had arrived. It had been a close thing.
And it meant that, in the ruckus, she'd lost track of the slave she'd been trying to rescue.
"I believe so," Neko replied. "I saw her for a moment, just barely. She was sneaking away while we held the trolls' attention."
"Oh, good." Alice stayed there a moment, recovering her strength. Her teammates were further down the tunnel, clearing up the stragglers. Alice
rose and nocked a burning arrow on her bow and trotted down the corridor to find them.
"I hope she makes it out okay," she added. Neko nodded. Up ahead, another contingent of trolls poured out of a cross-tunnel.
With a defiant battlecry, Neko and Archer leaped into the fray.
-//-----
The doors to Atlas Park's City Hall building burst open and a red-and-black blur streaked out.
"I got it I got it I got it!" Sammy yelled in glee, tackling a taller, almost professorial figure and whirling her around. She let go -- the older
woman adjusted her glasses and raised an eyebrow in amusement -- and proudly displayed the nearly-indestructable card. A class-H (provisional) license winked
in the afternoon sun.
"Indeed you did," she noted mildly. "And even the name you wanted. Congratulations, Samantha. Or should I refer to you as Purrfect Scrapper
now?" She smiled down at the exuberant catgirl.
"Mrs. Wilde! You can keep calling me Sam, or Sammy, or, well, just about anything." She closed her eyes and hugged the card to her chest. "I
owe you guys everything."
"Not quite everything," the Headmistress of the Home for Wayward Catgirls replied.
"No... not quite," Sammy agreed, smiling. She tucked the card away and smoothed her sweater. "I have to find the Archer."
"Well. It's good to see one of you young ladies show some drive and ambition," the Headmistress noted. "Be sure and write once in a while
to tell us how things are going. And remember, Samantha... we're there if you need us."
"I will! And... thank you again."
"Our pleasure, dear. It's what the Home is there for, after all." The woman smiled. "Now, I must be off if I'm to catch the train on
time. So many of you leaving all at once... it must be something in the air."
She hugged Sammy again, briefly, then turned and strode briskly down the steps toward the waiting sedan. Sam watched her go with a fond smile. The Home had
been just what she needed, at the time... but it was time to move on.
She sat on the ledge overlooking the street, ignoring the commotion behind her as heroes came and went and danced and talked, and took out a small notebook,
opening it in her lap and flipping slowly through the pages.
A newspaper clipping. "JUST ANOTHER ARCHER RESCUES SLAVES", referring to that long-ago day when her hero had appeared out of nowhere. A folded
piece of paper, a printout from the library, showing when the Archer had changed her hero name from Just Another Archer to Purrfect Archer. Here was another
photo clipping, taken in this very plaza on the day Archer had joined The Legendary. And so on. The notebook held every scrap of information Sam had, and it
wasn't quite enough. She still didn't know who the girl was, or how to contact her.
But that was about to change. Yes, it was time. Time to take control of her own life for a change. Time to find the hero who'd saved her, who had made
it all possible. Who she wanted to be like more than anyone else in the world.
Grinning to herself, Purrfect Scrapper jumped lightly down from the plaza and set to work. Surely ONE of these gang members would have an idea where to find
the Purrfect Archer. All she had to do was shake it out of them.
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs