Bruised, bruised, bruised

We had moved him from our first safehouse to a near-identical safehouse some ten miles away. No harm in saying that now - both of them have been found out, and I don't have any more in the area.

But she wasn't alone this time, no. This time, the girl-brat (as opposed to the boy-brat) brought this killjoy to the party.

I had left Kobold...downstairs again and clambered up into the branches of a nearby tree to keep watch. I knew they were coming  - they had "visited" yesterday, making sure that this was the place, which it unfortunately was. But they had come in a truck, and I was expecting a truck tonight. I figured I would be able to hear the rumble of the rusty engine about a mile off, but I was not prepared for a giant dog bounding through the trees, with the girl sprinting along afterwards. The dog had a keg of brandy around its neck, for Pete's sake! But the dog crashed past me and ran off into the woods again, while its passenger leaped off and tumbled to the ground. He got up, dusted himself off, and looked straight at my hiding place in the trees.

And then I laughed.

He calls himself a knight. Sure, a knight, maybe, in ragged, camouflage cargo pants, heavy hiking boots, and a simply filthy white t-shirt. Now, granted, he did have a Kevlar vest on, so maybe he wasn't totally stupid, but he was also wearing a metal cooking pot for a helmet - a colander, maybe? I didn't get such a good look while I was falling out of the tree. The bastard shot me, and he didn't even have the courtesy to use a gun. He hit me in the leg, and I lost my grip on the branches, and that fall hurt big-time, lemme tell you. My air intake was reduced to about one one hundredth of what it was normally and my eyes started swimming, but when I finally raised my head I could see, plain as day, that this Thighpiece character was holding an honest-to-God crossbow in his outstretched hand, and it was pointed at my head.

Then the dog trundled up next to him, which I was mostly ready for, and said, "Che la morte non sia crudele. Requiescat in pace," which I was not. And that sheer audacity - giving me a death prayer?! - made me really pissed. Now, pissed or not, I wouldn't have been in a position to deal with it, if Kobold hadn't rumbled out of the safehouse just then, holding the girl around the neck in one huge hand. That gave us leverage, and them pause.

"You let us live," I said through gritted teeth, "and we give you the kid." Thighpiece looked at the girl, and I craned my neck around to look too. Kobold was watching the scene, dull as ever, and then the girl nodded and gasped out an "Okay!" Thighpiece nodded, resigned to help her above killing lucky old me, and stuffed his crossbow into a simple rucksack he had, slung across his back. I noticed his spear-hammer-lance thing hanging off of a strap, but as he didn't seem to want to use it right now I didn't worry. Kobold dropped the girl, seeming to understand, and went back inside, coming out a few moments later with the boy bundled up and staggering beside him, gagged and glaring. The girl gave out a cry and ran to him, while Thighpiece started walking off. I limped inside the safehouse with Kobold, ready to clean up and take it down, and heard the rumble of the truck outside.

Also a good night. We did what we were trying to do, anyway - cause chaos. Hehehehe.

But it didn't turn out so great. Kobold's only got one good arm, since the maniac little girl shot him last week - it'll take at least a month before he's back up to scratch. And according to the quacks at a nearby hospital, I need a leg amputation.

Busy, busy, busy

It was a one in a million chance that everything worked out in the end.

Once Dodgy had settled down, he needed light. And what did he use for light? Candles. I would almost definitely not have been able to find him otherwise; I'm not a hacker like some of the Boss's other guys, though I can do okay in a pinch. But as soon as he - she - whatever. Soon as he looked into that flame I knew where he was, so I gave Kobold instructions on when to feed the kid, and when to slap him, and left. I can't really describe how the travel was - I don't use fancy methods like the Path or supersonic jets or whatever. I have my own way of getting around.

Of course the candle's light went out when I got in the room - that's how I move from place to place, after all. Dodgy was sitting at his computer, typing furiously, and pausing now and again to look around; when the candle went out, he finished up his post and turned to stare almost directly at my place in the shadows. I could have gotten him before he clicked 'Publish', but there was no reason to, really. A cat likes to play with its food before it eats it.

A cat can also see in the dark. My night-vision hasn't improved over the years, but I'm still comfortable in near-total darkness. I wobbled over behind Dodgy and got a good look at his new body before I tied it up.

She was really thin, which probably came from her imprisonment. In the faint light from the computer screen her eyes looked a sort of pale blue, and her shoulder-length hair was strawberry blond, which looked lovely in the half-light when I grabbed it and pulled backwards, hard.

Dodgy started to fight back, his psycho instinct kicking in, and the first thing he did was flail. The girl's body wasn't exactly in the best shape for a fight against a ready, willing, and able captor - you know, me - but Dodgy's mind was, and as soon as he was upright he jabbed me in the stomach with his elbow and stumbled towards the other side of the small room, stepping on my foot in the process. When I had gotten my breath back I lifted the rope and walked towards him, but he slapped me across the jaw and punched me straight in the nose. I think he might have broken it, and I feel absolutely no remorse for what happened next.

I whacked him around the side of his head, just below the temple, and clapped his ears. While he was shaking his head, I threw the rope around his arms and torso and pulled it tight, tying it up with a Devil's Tongue, one of my favorite knots. When all that was finished I lifted the very bottom of my hood and blew on the candle's still-hot wick, relighting it. Using that energy I, grabbing Dodgy's shoulder, took us both out of the room - good timing, because I think there were shouts coming from upstairs.

The next part of the story happened fairly quickly. Tigercub and Mercury had lit some candles a little beforehand, so I showed up, dropped off Dodgy, exchanged some pleasantries, and left again - they brought out a few matches, as the wicks had cooled down too much for me to relight them myself. Some big guy came out from the back of the storage cellar where we had met and picked up the still-struggling girl, but I was away before I could do anything about it.

And I arrived on a battlefield. Outside was more shouting and several gunshots, and maybe crying, too. Little girl crying, not Kobold crying, although Kobold was bellowing in that way of his. I picked up the boy, who was still laying around downstairs, gagged and glaring at me angrily, and shuffled up the ladder. "Mmffmff!" Timmy shouted. Probably the girl's name. I wasn't really paying attention. Kobold was crashing into trees and things and the little girl was standing just outside, holding a gun in her hands and waving it around, crying, like she knew she didn't know how to deal with this situation. I set the boy down and waited until she was way too upset to pay attention to me, and pulled out my lighter and a candle. The lighter was apparently out of fluid, though, so I had to drop it and search my jumpsuit's patchwork pockets for a box of matches. It was tough going, but really it only lasted a few seconds. I waited until Kobold ran by, still screaming, grabbed his arm, picked up the boy, and -

we were gone. New safehouse, new directions, new calm state of mind. Kobold got hit in the arm, but we had the bullet out and the wound patched up fairly quickly, and I fed the kid a sleeping pill for good measure.

Woohoo! What an exhilarating day. Can we do it again sometime?

Let them eat cake

Sheesh! This kid isn't taking it so well. His hair has literally turned white from grief. Or sadness. Or homesickness.

Or...dye.

It was probably the dye.

But we've moved him away from our motel room and into the safehouse. And I'm not going to say where that is, because as bratty as she is - even moreso than Timmy here - I don't doubt that this girl will be trying her hardest to come after us. I'm also not going to let him use his blog or his Twitter, just in case he manages to reveal where we are. We blindfolded him on the way here, but you never know...Runners are good with locations, after all. It's in their nature. So much running from the Boss seems to give them a pretty good sense of direction.

It's a shame that the body-snatcher had to get shot. Now I'll never find him, eh?

Oh wait...yes I will. Too bad for him - her - uh. Too bad that he's not into that whole "bondage" thing. I'll have to leave Kobold with the kid; I'm pretty confident he can deal with this "Trinity". And in any case I think I can get back fast enough to move Timmy before she finds him.

I wouldn't try to Turn little Timmy, but I think I can grab Dodgy and get him - her - well, you know - to Tigercub for...rehabilitation.

Don't play with fire, kiddies. Candles are dangerous things.

Inaction, in action

Yawwwwn. That was a good rest! But it's time to get busy.

Or I should say, it's been time to have gotten busy - or it will have been time to be getting busy - or we have been getting busy in time - we've grabbed him.

This one's a toughie; we won't be able to turn him soon if at all, but we can certainly cause a bit more trouble for the morons. It's thanks to their blunders and blatant ignoring of several high-profile threats that Kobold and I are able to pull this off in the first place. Maybe if I was a good blogger I would have updated sooner, but observations had to get tight; they increased security around the mansion like nobody's business, and I had to focus. And Kobold can't read or write. Not that he could manage to tap out a message anyway, with his huge hands.

We're hiding out in our safehouse, anyway, and it's not like any of them will be able to mount a resistance for at least a week or so. Though that little girl could prove to be trouble...

That body-snatcher guy that got shot, though...he looks about as interesting a target as this brat.

Anyway. We'll post if anything happens - or if we get anything useful out of him. Timothy Keith, is it? Hehehehe.

Tired and retired

I've taken a break from watching this place; after the huge commotion some time ago they've gotten even more paranoid. They even buffed out their wards and installed an electric fence. Even Kobold can't exactly get by that with only brute force. All I can hope for is something bigger to happen; maybe then, I can.

Until then I'm chilling like a villain with Kobold. He's actually pretty good at cards. I've still managed to win plenty off of him, though.

When I've got a big, complicated job like this one, I don't ever try and lure anyone else. I have to let my mind expand and my body relax so I'm tight, focused, and prepared when the moment comes.

Stalking horse

Or stalking house. While Kobold watches our motel room I'm watching this mansion. It's not exactly the safest place, either. Branches falling on people, for one. But I'm being patient. I'm good at that. Any good stalker knows he needs to be patient. Like the Boss. Damn, but the Boss is as patient as they come.

The people here aren't exactly sane. I saw one of them yelling at a doll. Granted, it's a possessed doll, but still. And the place just keeps getting fuller and fuller. People are showing up nearly every other day, it seems like. I don't know why the hell everyone's flocking here, but it sure explains the amount of other people staking out the place. One well-timed attack by the Boss and they'd all be dead.

Something's stopping me from getting onto the grounds themselves. I was never a magical kind of guy, but I think those in the profession call them "wards".

Anyway, there's one kid I think will be a good target. Hehe. Look out, brat.

Chim Chim Cheroo

I'm not alone in my endeavors. I have my partner and friend Kobold. He's a burly kind of guy, military-style buzz-cut, the whole deal. I didn't take him originally, but I did save him from near-death. Bandaged some harsh gashes and won his eternal loyalty, the poor guy. He's one of the full-blown, hollowed-out servants to the Boss. But he's a nice man. Gentle when he needs to be. Loves animals. And not afraid to twist their necks! Perfect assistant, really, all in all.

I have something of an affinity for chimneys. They're often one of the easiest ways to get into a house. Santa Claus had the right idea. Sometimes it's one of the easiest ways to get out of a house, too. I use chimneys almost as often as I use rope. Have Kobold stand up top and hold a knotted rope tight so I can get out quick. I'm plenty skinny enough for it.

Anyway, I've got some work-related news. Her name was Amy Watson. Her kid died some weeks ago in a car crash, and the father started drinking and deserted her. Perfect target. Depressed, lost, and no family. Nothing to regret. No bad feelings about it.