Story- Tabby vs the Blue Bolts (pt 1)

[chase]

(thread formerly called "the hunt" - renamed it for the upcoming Pt 2 and made a few editing tweaks that didn't make it in the original text.    )

So I haven't had a chance to roleplay much lately, and when I did, Tabby's current focus on not-being-noticed really limited the potential for chance encounters.   I'd intended to play out the evolution of Tabby for a while longer, but I decided to move it forward.  Below was originally intended as part 3 of a story, but with parts 1 & 2 lost, I adapted it to serve as an introduction.

 

---

 

Officer Joji Ito shielded his eyes with an envelope marked “evidence” as he started at the cathedral’s main bell tower.   It was 10 minutes after mass had ended. Maybe his hunch was wrong. Maybe his quarry wasn’t inside.  Maybe this is all a waste of..

 

There she was. 

 

A small form blending in Slipping out of the steeple, darting along the steep-sloped ridges.  The backpack and jaunt made it seem like Resurrection parish had its own hunchback- a tiny, nimble hunchback… with a tail. 

“Tabitha!”

The silhouette froze, then ducked behind a winged gargoyle. A few seconds later, the glint gold-green eyes emerged from the shadows.   He tucked the envelope under his other arm with the others and waved back. 

 

“We need to talk.”

 

The eyes blinked, then disappeared. “Is this business or pleasure?” she called back after a bit of a hesitation.

 

“Business.  The alley’s clear.   Keegan’s watching the other side.”

 

He could hear some scrabbling sounds then caught a good view of her silhouette as she leaped across the alley onto a fire escape. Cat-themed heroes and villains existed on a spectrum, with one side just having costume accessories or behaviors resembling something feline. The middle might add a real tail, ears, or catlike eyes to an otherwise-human body.   Tabby... err… Tabitha fell closer to the cat side.  Although her build was appreciatively feminine, the cat tail, ears, eyes, and whiskers accompanied a coat of grey/black/white fur that evoked images of an american housecat all packaged in a lithe form under four and a half feet.

 

She opted to skip the last two flights of stairs on the fire escape, landing beside him in the alley, carefully assuring that Ito remained between her and the alley entrance. She kept focusing around him, rather than on him, searching for the first sign of trouble as she shrugged off her backpack and dropped it at his feet.

 

While she rummaged through the backpack, she never went long without nervously looking toward the entrance, around one leg, then the other, sometimes ducking to see between them. Some part of Ito finally registered that he had a naked catgirl squatting in front of him- and even though her pelt left as much to the imagination as a leotard or scuba suit might- he quickly filled with the anxiety of a teenager presenting at the front of class and getting an... 

"...baseball, think of baseball" he whispered to himself. "Huh?"

 

Eye contact. It should have made things easier, but in this position, with her wide inquiring eyes meeting his from where she was, her lips slightly open, wavy hair cascading over...

 

*BASEBALL.* he mentally screamed to himself. Fate intervened, mercifully sending him into a coughing fit before he could stand there under any more scrutiny.

 

She stood, holding a oversized zippered hoodie and sweats, "Sorry, it's safer to go roof to roof like this. It's... weird... I know, but I can barely stand wearing this stuff when doing normal stuff. When it rubs the wrong way, it's like needles, and its CONSTANTLY rubbing."

 

*Cold Shower. IcebucketChallenge* Joji did his best to focus on the fire escape… or the brick wall… or anything but the cute catgirl now dressing inches away. He could barely register a thought, but had to say something, stammering out, “So… out of curiosity… why did you ask if… if this was business or pleasure?”   

 

She froze balanced on one leg, halfway into her the frayed lounge pants.  Her tail pulsed into full bristle, then back again, then bristle, her pupils had grown to engulf her whole eye and from this angle, he could see a ridge of hair rise and fall in sync with her tail. The rest of her was as immobile as a statue. Finally, the moment broke, everything returned to normal, and she hammered out a quick and unconvincing staccato, “It was just smalltalk.”

 

His heart was pounding. This probably wasn’t the right time but he had to seize the moment, “So, if this had been just for pleasure….”  

 

“Joji,”  She interrupted... that's bad... but she's using firstnames, so... good?

 

“I’ve read the fanfic.”  

 

It was his turn to freeze in time. He briefly considered running for the squad car pretending there was an emergency on the radio, but his feet were cement.  He thought about several dozen other scenarios to extract himself from this situation, but unfortunately all involved moving… and he couldn’t.  He was pretty sure he'd stopped breathing in this eternity of paralysis, which must mean he'd be dead by now. His life mercifully cut short to avoid the humiliation, but there was no bright light- no escape there either. 

 

All he could do was stand there and weakly deny it.

 

He didn’t even get a word out before she continued, “I know it was you- the whole ‘If I was gonna be a supervillain’ exchange- that was our thi--- I mean that was between you and me.   Nobody else heard it.   And really- Callie the catgirl with the calico-fur pattern wasn’t exactly THAT big of a stretch from… well...Tabby.”

 

Just play it cool. Deny everything. You can get out of this. Just don't make it weird. 

 

It was already weird. in the time he'd been standing there, Tabby'd completed dressing, now just a set of glowing eyes in the shadow of a way-too-large hoodie. How long was he frozen?  How’d he miss all that?  Why’d he miss all that?  Granted, he’d have preferred playback in reverse, but...

“Look, don’t get me wrong- it’s good writing. The whole ‘cop drawing out the villain's compassion while she pulls him out of the doldrums of his life’ is a great trope for a reason.  Your storied had romance, drama, humor.. taste… A lot of the other stuff lacks...”

 

“.. a plot, punctuation, spellchecking?”

 

“... not to mention consent, but yeah, those too.”

 

Ito flinched, “you went to THOSE forums?”

 

“... to know your enemy, read the thoughts that even they label with trigger warnings.” She said with a mock sage bow. “Sun Tzu would’ve said that if the internet existed back then, I’m sure.”

He laughed, but decided it was best to navigate far and away from the those topics.  Maybe all was not lost. “... but you LIKED my story?.”

 

“It was good but… but that’s not me.”  

 

“No, it wasn’t, I mean, yeah you kinda inspired me, but I wasn’t implying that you were… or we were.. Or…”

 

“That’s not what I mean.   I mean, I don’t even know what I really mean.   I just… You obviously like catgirls.  You’re attracted to this,” she said with a sweeping hand over a body now enveloped under folds of excess fabric. His mind flashed back a few minutes to fill in the blank. “Lord knows why, but this is… well, not me.   I’m the girl that messed up and got temporarily trapped like this.  This is an… an interruption of me… and it's not sticking around.

 

“I’ve been stuck this way for four long years, but only because they wouldn’t let me study spellcraft after I blew up a dumpster behind the cafeteria.  I get it.   I wasn’t using the best judgement there.  I accepted their punishment, but I never stopped planning to change back. Heck, my only plan when I got out of placement was to keep as low of a profile as possible until I got this reversed.  I wanted people to know me as me, not ‘that girl that used to be a catgirl.”

 

She forced a laugh. “That plan kinda blew up too. I think that’s my superpower.  No situation that can’t be made worse by adding Tabitha to the mix.” That weak half-smile always accompanied her self-criticism (a pretty common occurrence) with the fur on her cheeks fluffed- a blush, probably.  Her eyes flitted away from making contact, then back, looking for something- maybe confirmation, maybe a rebuttal- and ready to take it in stride or laugh it off like a joke.

 

“It’s been an… eventful few weeks.”  He had to admit, “but you stopped a mugging and you saved Ms. Rodriguez’s life.  Heck, Keegan and his ex are even talking again because of you.    That’s not making things worse. Well, maybe for Keegan.”

 

“I fell into a mugging and transformed it into a hostage crisis- got a concussion and ended that night handcuffed to a fire hydrant if memory serves.   Then I picked a fight with someone far tougher than me, survived it by clinging to his back for dear life until Artificer rescued Ms Rorriguez AND me. THEN I try to out-troll online trolls and that went oh-so-well.

 

"Making. Things. Worse." She accented each word with a poke to his chest.

 

“Odds are I’m going to have to go halfway around the globe to not be known as “Tabitha the former catgirl.’”

Joji briefly thought about pointing out the folly in that thinking- catgirl-pizzeria-themed hostess clubs were popping up all over his parent’s home country largely due to her celebrity status-  then thought better of it.   

 

The night Tabby rescued councilman Willard’s husband from a mugging, word got online about her.   The internet’s a weird place with many corners dedicated to many strange interests.  “New mystery heroine, catgirl, handcuffs” hit a few too many keywords, it seems, and started a feeding frenzy.  Everyone was competing to get firsts- first sighting pic, first interview, first tuft of hair, first selfie taken in secret lair/apartment/bedroom closet- as mentioned- MANY strange interests.   It must’ve been a slow week, because ALL the crazies came out.

 

That was (coincidentally) the same night they met.  Officer Keegan- his partner- was partly… mostly...responsible for the “handcuffed to a fire hydrant” misunderstanding, but they both did help shield her from the fan frenzy and get her home undetected.  Unfortunately, rather than defuse the crisis, this just increased the intrigue.   

 

The longer Tabby hid, the more crazed the fans became.  This just wasn’t something they were used to.  If you show up at any nightclub frequented by “supers” and pull out a camera, catgirls practically jump into the shot.  Catgirls and spotlights are like cats and sunbeams.  People just couldn’t conceive of one avoiding them. 

 

Intrigue grew to obsession.  Competing fansites entered into competing bidding wars on bounties for whoever delivered the first pictures.  Prices rose to the level that professional paparazzi got involved.  More mainstream news shows even spared a few seconds to report on the furor.

 

And Tabby remained hidden.

 

Well, she remained hidden long enough to realize how much it sucked living that way.  When she needed to go out, he, Keegan, and Artificer made distractions both in the real world and online- all four had accounts on the fan sites to feed false leads or get an insider's edge on what was planned next.  Eventually, Tabby decided  that claiming the photo bounty for herself would go a long way to paying restitution she owed while simultaneously denying it from the people who made her life hell.  

 

Her winning “first photo” was a selfie holding the sign “Satisfied? Now go away!”   (Probably not the first catgirl to utter that phrase, but certainly different context).   A more thorough examination might show that she held the sign with just her middle finger on display as a more subtle jab. The delivery was carefully timed- She’d read online that one of her more annoying stalkers was bribing deliverymen for access to her apartment complex, so once the payment was in escrow she ordered a pizza.  With the forums already buzzing about the discovery that there was a catgirl in their midst, posting in their forum, and however negatively acknowledging their existence, she opened the door to the pizza paparazzi, tipped him, and made a huge production of savoring the first bite in the freedom of the open apartment lobby, declaring victory.  

 

Battle won. 

 

War lost.   

 

Within an hour memes based on her selfie were trending.   Within a day, practically every frame of the pizza-eating video was put to use in the most provocative way.  At the start of day two someone uploaded footage of Tabby’s "fight" that saved Ms Rodriguez from a council soldier. Apparently he bribed the clerk at the PPD evidence locker just hours too late to win the bounty.    Before day three those grappling scenes were cropped, edited, and looped into a series of far less innocent-looking bounces, bumps and grinds. Then came the inevitable mashups:  Take the pizza-eating, the battle remix, add audio from an infamous When Harry Met Sally scene, and cap it off with the breathy “Tastes like victory” utterance at the end, and your already-viral memes reached mainstream.     By the end of the first week an entire online industry had arisen. Meme sites. A “tabby tracker” offering free pizza prizes for the top weekly uploads.

 

“For what it’s worth DiGinelli really didn’t know… y’know... the details behind the meme before getting the new pizza boxes printed.   The guy’s like 80 and can’t even do email.   People kept coming in saying “tastes like victory” so his grandkids showed him the more family-friendly cut.  He thought you were a fan and ran with it."

 

“Well, at least the cartoon catgirl is generic enough to be anybody, I guess.   I’m still glad he took down the lifesize cardboard cutout.”

 

“He had to.  Family establishment.  It wasn’t quite life-size and at that height, it was too easy for people to pose with it at crot…”

 

“I get it.”

 

Ito coughed into his hand, “Back to topic- so you’re thinking that I’m only into the catgirl (not)-part of you, and not you as a person?  I admit your looks did catch my attention, but I’ve gotten to know you and..”

Her ears flattened.  “Look, I don’t even know me anymore, so you sure don't!" she interrupted, looking very frustrated, "and I’m not even sure what *me* will be when I change back."  She’d started pacing, her tail was thrashing so hard it worked itself free of the baggy pants and whipped around furiously.   "I... I never wanted to admit it, but this form… it isn't just a physical shape.  it... it interferes with MY thinking.  I..  I..”

 

She’d started pacing, her tail was thrashing so hard it worked itself free of the baggy pants and whipped around furiously.   

 

“I… I like sunning!"  She stared directly at him, guilty at the admission, but ready to face judgement like her revelation would explain everything.   She must have read the confusion on his face, so she went on.  "I mean, I *really* like sunning.   Never did growing up- always seemed a waste of time even without considering the cancer risk but… now… on the rare occasion the sun's out and it starts heating the fur and the warm glow just flows all over me... God, it’s like a slice of heaven.  It’s soo tough to resist. I  could just melt.”

 

It wasn't what he expected, but he started to piece it together, “So... you're worried that this... temporary... state of being in a catgirl body is affecting your mind?  If you’re worried whether any feelings- if you have feelings-for me are a result of your feline state, my dating success record will testify that’s painfully unlikely…”

 

His joke did get her to break out of that furious energy, “I never told anyone that before.   It’s been bugging me for a long time.  It's not just that.   I… I sleep in tiny bursts, too, and…”  she plucked at her hoodie, “and this stuff… when I’m going rooftop to rooftop in the buff, the wind whipping the fur, it’s like extra senses open up.  It feels free and so RIGHT.  On top of the constant discomfort of these clothes rubbing the wrong way, they just feel wrong.   It’s not being nak… geeze, I can’t even use that word- it’s not that being undressed freaks me out, it’s knowing that it DOESN’T freak me out that freaks me out.”

 

“I may admittedly be speaking with a tad of self-interest here, but there’s plenty of examples of other extrahuman capes that go… well… capeless.  It wouldn’t be so scandalous to go au natural, given your condition, Tabitha.   ”

 

“That’s the problem, though- EXTRAhuman.  I want to be human, and these things… it feels like it’s just chipping away at the parts left that let me feel human.”

 

“I just really need to focus on figuring out who I really am- and recovering who I am right now.  That’s been hard enough without worrying what... others... might want me to be.”

 

“I understand.” He tried to mask his disappointment.   Part of him wanted to admit he'd still like her her no matter how things ended out, but part of him would be disappointed when she changed back. The brutally honest truth was that he knew it wouldn't be fair to expect her to stay like this, and he couldn't tell right now how much he'd miss this part of her.  

 

"I’d still like to get to know you better, but I do understand how you feel.   Focus on you becoming you.  I’m here to help- no complications, but when you change back and you're confidently you, maybe we can go out to celebrate?  Deal?”

 

“Deal.”  

 

As frustrated as he should be with the situation, it was impossible to feel anything but happy watching her smile.

 

“It’s a date, then.  No… not a date.  Totally not a date.   Just friends out celebrating.  I’ll keep an eye out for lingering effects like snoozing under a heat lamp or trying to do parkour in the buff or anything like that.   Not weird at all.  Not a date.”

 

Her cheeks fluffed again, clearly a blush, and it was so soft that it may have been his imagination that she whispered shyly. “ ...might be a date.”

 

They stood there in silence for a bit.   The conversation didn’t go as he’d hoped, but standing there with her made him feel like she must feel in a sunbeam.   Nothing could ruin this, except:

 

“So, what was the business part of this discussion? Is it about that council guy?”

 

There’s no good transition for what’s to come, so he opted to just hesitate and pretend that he didn’t hear her.   Maybe it’d just go away.

 

It didn’t.  Tabby just took his silence of confirmation.  She wasn’t wrong.

 

Her ears perked in excitement as she practically bounced agaist him,  “Is he going to trial? I already gave my statement and all but I hadn’t heard back.  I know potential witnesses aren’t supposed to talk, but I really have a lot of questions.  How’s Mrs. Rodriguez?  Do I get to testify?   I’ve never been part of a trial before- well, except my own- and juvie’s different and I was preoccupied and.  Oh! What’s this? For me?”

He couldn’t react fast enough to prevent her from snatching the envelopes he had tucked under his arm, but he was fast enough to stop her from opening them.  

 

“Tabby, don’t open those.   We probably don’t need them.  Keegan said you would, but.   Just…  just listen: Mrs.  Rodriguez is fine.   There won’t be a trial.   The guy you caught- Michael Byrne- is dead.  Suicide in his cell.”

 

He took a deep breath, “and he wasn't’ council.   He was a cop.   I went to the academy with him.”

 

“Oh my God.  The council is infiltrating the PPD?”   Her eyes- already proportionately large for a human- somehow grew larger. Adorably larger.

 

“No, at least we don’t think so. He took the suit from evidence- probably wanted a disguise with some protection.   Byrne was broke and couldn’t afford his own stuff.   He worked every OT shift he could just to cover child support and alimony.  Didn’t have much of a life outside the force, and nobody inside the force really recalls him saying anything that’d suggest he was at risk of this.   Nobody that’s talking at least.  ”

 

“You think other cops are involved.   Mrs Rodriguez did say she saw more.”

 

“She counted 5 or 6 together at one time.  The profilers think the actual number may be 2-3x that for this kind of operation to work.  At least some of them have got to have ties to the force.   I’m not privy to the details now that IA’s involved, but his death doesn’t pass the sniff test.   None of this does.”

 

“Byrne just passed his quarterly screening.  His personal life was shit, I know, but… who knows what it takes for someone to crack, but I can’t imagine what it’d take to do this.  Why copycat the blue bolts?”

 

“The what?”

 

“Years ago- before most people on the force today- there was a string of murders- kidnapping-murder, really.   They took people that weren’t likely to be reported missing- homeless, prostitutes, immigrants- and they… hunted them for sport using crossbows.  The bolts were always cobalt blue.  It went on for months- the media dubbed them the “Bue Bolt Society” since that was all that was known about them.   Many speculated that they were privileged thrillseekers preying off the dregs of society and that people in high places were protecting them from prosecution-   Might be some truth to that, given how redacted even the cold case files are.”

 

He pulled the envelopes from her hands, picked a relatively safe one, and opened it.

 

“After you stopped their hunt and took down Byrne, we made the connection.  We started thinking of other cases differently.  So far, we have eight probables in the last 6 months.  All identified by their prison or detention dentals.  Homeless, prostitutes, immigrants again,  All likely killed by a projectile like a bolt, and traces of blue carbon fiber were found on three. “

He fed the packets over to her one at a time, watching Tabby as she scanned over them looking increasingly uneasy.   Each packet contained photos of evidence, identifying records, and the mugshots of each victim.  The first two contained X-rays, but the third included shots of the partially liquefied corpse over a month into decomposition.   

At that, Tabby turned and puked behind a dumpster.

 

*Damn it, I shoulda known that would be too much.  She’s just a kid.  She doesn’t need to see this.*   

 

“Chief assigned a protective detail on you right after the arrest, but your travel habits made that a bit tough.  They spent more time searching for you than protecting you.   Now IA wants you in protective custody.”

 

“What?  Hell no!"  She'd been using her sleeve to wipe her face clean, but little droplets of saliva still clung to her whiskers.   "You just got done telling me that you think the people doing this are cops…”

 

“SOME.  Some are ...probably... cops” 

 

“... and you don’t know which ones they are, and you want me to just trust them with my life?   Sounds like Russian Roulette to me.   If they’re having such a hard time following me now, I should just stick with that.”

“They won’t be local cops or anyone with any risk of being involved.  I don’t know the whole plan- probably bring in the feds or we even have special programs to bring in supergroups for this sort of thing.   You’ll be in good hands.”

 

“...and why would I be at risk, anyway?   I only saw one of them, and he’s dead now.   It’s not like I’m some sort of lynchpin in a trial anymore.”

Ito hesitated, then handed over two more packets, watching her carefully as she opened them.

 

“That’s Rocco-- the raccoon-boy.  Not too bright- had the IQ equivalent of a chimp and couldn’t say much more than his name.  He lived around the Faultline ruins- would come up to the park and dance for food when he got hungry. “   Time of death is 5 days after you apprehended Byrne.

 

Her face was stone as she studied the photos- a sharp contrast to her tail whipping about in a fury all its own.  Raccoon boy had been pierced at least six times and had escaped to the Faultline cliffs before succumbing to his wounds.   Three of the bolts were still piercing his corpse when a team of heroes found it.

 

She didn't wait for him on the last one.  She popped off one of the gel caps she kept on her claws and tore through the envelope.  Each claw was about an inch long, but when retracted behind her actual fingertip, her hands appeared to be a knuckle short and knobby- still too long to be considered "paws" but far shorter than a human's hands.   The gel caps kept her claws extended and resembling natural human hands.

“That’s White and Silver.   They were rescued from a black market bio lab in South America-  been in-country in foster only a few days before they disappeared.  They didn’t even have names registered- the fosters were waiting until they gained a better grasp on the language so they could choose their own."

 

The two fell in the same area as Tabby on the catgirl spectrum-  Fur-covered, whiskers, tail, the works.   Silver had longer hair and a bushy tail. White shorter hair.   They died shielding each other.  Several of the bolts pierced both bodies, practically stitching them together.

 

“We found them yesterday.”

 

She wouldn't pry her eyes off the pictures, so he took a knee and bent them back.  He wanted eye contact to drive this home, “Serial killers tend to have patterns, but sometimes they evolve over time.  It’s hard to confirm a pattern with just these two, but we don’t want to wait for any more.  We think you struck a nerve when you got Byrne, and now they're targeting people with animorphic traits.  Like you."

Her hands trembled as she turned every page. The tail thrashing had reached an impossible crescendo and although her face remained expressionless, her eyes and whiskers darted over about every detail of the images. 

 

When she finally spoke, it was strained, holding back a tide her emotions,"“3 conditions. "

 

Then with more conviction, "I’ll do it on 3 conditions.”

 

“Let’s hear em.”

 

“One- I pick the supergroup.”

 

“Within reason, Tabitha, I like you, but I can’t just pull Freedom Phalanx for this kind of op.

 

“I think you’ll find my request very reasonable. Two- I pick the police liaison.  I need someone I can trust.”

 

“Liaisons go through a special program.   They need to be trained in the legal ins and outs of working with vigilante groups.  It can’t be just anyone.”

 

“Your partner qualified for it, didn’t he?”

 

“Yeah, Keegan’s one of the few non-powered officers to take the course, but he’s never had an assignment-- and no offense to him,  but you’re going to need someone with at least enough firepower to keep up with the supergroup that…  wait.   What supergroup were you thinking of?  Not... “  

 

A wave of realization swept over his face.  Keegan’s old crew. 

 

“No.  I... I can't agree to it.   I won't.   They’re friggin college students- and not only are they just a student-based "club" masquerading as heroes, they’re not even the best student-based supergroup on campus.   Half of them have no powers at all, and the other half are practically out of their minds DUE TO their powers.  That’s… that’s not a protection detail, it’s... it's a national disaster waiting to happen.”

 

Tabby took a defiant stance, “My conditions.   I need people I can trust, and I trust them.  I could leave right now and ask them and they’d help me without the PPD, but I know you’re right- they’d do better with the PPD backing them up.   Keegan brings that.    Besides, Artie and Keegan have some unfinished business and maybe this can help straighten this out.”

 

“This is a life-and-death situation!  This isn’t a time for you to help mend Artificer’s and Keegan’s bromance!” He thought about going on, but it was clear by her total body language that this was a lost cause.  “Ok, fine.   I’ll make that work, but I’m staying around as Keegan’s backup.  What’s the third condition?”

 

“I want to see everything the PPD has on the Black Bolt Society.  Everything.”

 

“Normally witnesses shouldn’t see evidence that could impact their testimony, but since Byrne’s dead, you're not a direct witness-- and it may spark something. I’ll get it approved and have it waiting at the safehouse.”

 

“No. No safehouse.”

 

Things were going too smoothly.  I should have expected something.

 

“That’s what protective custody is, Tabby.   We take you to a safe house and keep you hidden until we get these guys into custody..”

 

“No.  You don’t get it, and you know better than to call me Tabby.”  She shoved the stack of crime scene photos back into his hands, pulled back her hood, and started unzipping it.

 

 “When I hide… when they can’t find me, they kill someone else."   The jacket fell off with a shrug and the pants dropped with a shiver, then she was packing them both into her backpack.

“I can’t live with that.”   As serious as this conversation was, Joji didn't really need to think about baseball.   He did anyway, just in case.

 

For a moment, Joji thought Tabby was cracking her knuckles, then he realized she was snapping off her remaining claw pads.   With them off, the inch long talons reminded you that- as tiny as she might be- a 70-lb wildcat would still be a dangerous encounter.

 

“I don’t have the luxury of hiding anymore.   They took that from me.

 

"If they want to lash out at the damn catgirl that ruined their little sport,  I need them to know EXACTLY where to find me.”

 

The hairs on ito’s neck stood on end as he watched her trace arcane patterns in the air.   A violet-hued light danced between her clawtips, growing bigger and more radiant increasing from the size of a gumdrop to a softball, then to a melon, wisps of it curling off like flares on a miniature sun.

 

As impressive as it was to see her power manifest, it was the way that she transformed when lost in casting that truly awed Ito.  She was confident, poised, totally in her element, with an incredible presence that just exuded command.  It left him wondering how, just moments ago, he ever mistook her for just another college kid.   It also left him wondering what to try when baseball failed.

 

“And once they do find me, I’ll make them regret it.”

 

With that she turned towards a pile of trash perhaps 20 feet away and released the energy bolt.   

 

It fizzled- rather explosively- just an arm's reach away- nowhere near the target, and with enough force that it knocked the files from his grip and sent them flying down the alley.

“I’m… uh… still working on that.”

Backup.  

 

Yeah, Ito was going to line up a LOT of PPD backup.  

Edited May 21, 2020 by chase