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I read down below that Mike D (Shrike) is leaving the PVB at the end of the month It doesnt seem long since we were all doing welcome-Epitome-to-the-LL stories. Anyhow, we shouldnt let him slip away unnoticed, so...

(p.s. Sorry it doesnt actually have, y'know, a story or a theme or stuff)

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“’So?’” Murderblade shouted. “What do you mean, ‘so’?”

Katarina Allen tilted her shoulder in a half shrug. “So I’ve been threatened before,” she answered, the first irritation showing in her voice. “Comes with the territory if someone dates a superhero like Mister Epitome. It bothered me the first half dozen times.”

Murderblade advanced into the little lace shop, swiping aside a display dummy and advancing on the proprietor. “It’ll bother you when I cut off parts of you and nail them to the walls.”

“That’s been done,” answered Kat. “Not to me, but it’s not new. After the hundredth atrocity it stops being scary and just becomes… pathetic. Refrigerators are passé.” She carefully tied off the flax she was spinning and turned to the villain. “You know what happened to the last bad man who came here to hurt me?”

“That was before. The heroes are gone now.”

“He was eaten by a Shoggoth. And the one before that was dropped off a building with silly string attached to him. A hundred sixty-three times. And the one before that needed surgery to remove his weapons from where Yuki rammed them. And they were the lucky ones, because someone else got to them before Dominic could.”

Murderblade snarled. “The heroes are gone. Now its just the villains.”

“The Legion Shoggoth’s gone. The other one hasn’t.” Kat counted on her fingers. “or you could get shot by Artemis. You could get diced by a Psychic Samurai. You could get roasted by Kerry Shepherdson. You could get savaged by an indestructible cat. You could get beaten to a pulp by seven dwarves who are painting the murals on my dream-house. Point is, if you take one step further towards me you’d better try to remember what a life without constant pain is because it’ll soon be something you’ll look back on with nostalgia.”

“You’re bluffing.” Murderblade took his step forward.

“I’m really not. Look, Dom took on a whole planet to rescue me after our first date. What do you think he’s going to do now we’re getting married? You think being evil is scary? That’s because you’ve never seen a really pissed good guy.”

“There ain’t no good guys any more. Only us.”

“Isn’t, not ain’t. Bad grammar doesn’t make you badass. Do you know what happened to the man who murdered Sir Mumphrey’s daughter? He got dropped into a black hole, alive, for eternity.”

Murderblade tried to keep looking fierce but he did glance over his shoulder. “All the heroes are gone now. They disappeared. The Purveyors of Peril rule. It’s open season.”

“Dom wasn’t with the Lair Legion when they vanished,” Kat pointed out. “He could be anywhere. Hiding. Watching. Planning. He’s a sneaky son of a bitch, and that’s somebody who loves him saying this. So I’ll tell you this one more time, and then I’m going to lose patience with you: go away. Oh, and leave me two hundred dollars for that dummy you sliced up.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.”

As Murderblade exited the shop Ebony of Nubilia came out from the backroom. Kat was folding a wad of notes into her cash register. “I thought he was going to mistake what you said for a bluff,” the Shoggoth’s priestess admitted.

“I leave bluffing for people with poker faces,” Kat replied. “Now I just wait and pray from Dom to come home and I don’t give a damn about all this other crap.”

____

At six sharp Katarina closed her shop. It had been a quiet evening for trade – they all had been since the heroes vanished and people didn’t like to venture out at night. She locked away her takings, cooked herself an omelette, ate it, then allowed herself one square of the rich dark chocolate that Dom had bought for her birthday.

I’m rationing this, she thought to herself. As long as I still have some of Dom’s chocolate to eat I can believe he’s still coming back to me.

At eight fifteen Kat’s mother phoned, as she did every day now. As always, Kat had her answers ready. No, she wasn’t packing up and coming home to Louisiana. Yes, she realised how dangerous Parodiopolis had become since the heroes had vanished. No, she’d had no word from Dominic.

“Mom, will you tell pa once and for all that Dom didn’t disappear because of what happened when we all had dinner together,” Kat assured her mother. “Those mythlands dwarves just hadn’t got the hand of Earth customs, that’s all. And Dom can’t help being invulnerable if someone takes a pop at him. How is dad’s cast now?”

“No, mom, I’m not heartbroken. I love Dom. He’s a good man. If he can find a way to come to me he will. And if he never does… well I’m glad I had some time with him. Better a few short months with a man like that than a lifetime with someone less.”

After the call from her parents Kat always felt a little homesick.

Kat checked her PC to see if there was e-mail from the Idiom or Miss Framlicker about any developments about the missing heroes in general and Dom in particular. She checked the news sites in case there was a breaking story about the return of Mr Epitome. She said a prayer in front of the crucifix on her bedroom wall.

When it was dark outside and Kat was getting sleepy she opened the drawer of her bedside cabinet and took out a hand-rolled beeswax candle she’d made herself. She stood it in a saucer by her window and lit it with a wooden match. The light burned pure and white, with almost no smoke at all. The lace curtains had already been tied back so that the candle shone out into the darkness. It would burn all night. Tomorrow Kat would make another.

“Wherever you are,” Kat whispered into the darkness, “be safe. Be well. Remember who you are, not who they try to make you be. Remember you are loved. Remember that we had a time, and carry that with you always. And if you can, one day, if there’s any possible way, one day come back to where you belong.”