Chapter 54
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Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
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Leslie waited ten, twenty...
Thirty minutes. Clark never showed back up.
Sure, he'd come here to give him a hand, but it wasn't supposed to be literal!
He huffed and teleported to the ground. The Zeta Terminal wasn't that far away, and a good walk sounded like a nice chance to think.
Sure, the missing arm irritated him, but that was only about three, maybe four hours of work he'd lost. He could make that up tonight after he got some sleep...
That was another issue he was going to have to figure out. He was running into the same issue his laptop had when he'd cast Haste on it. The air in his room didn't circulate well, so he ended up just inhaling the same air he breathed out, which meant a decreasing amount of oxygen and an increasing amount of carbon-dioxide.
Alright, it wasn't the exact same issue. His laptop would vent heat faster than it could dissipate, but the principal was similar.
The fan worked for now but one more level, two at the most and he'd be back to the same issue. Hell, even if the fan was doing a fantastic job it still wouldn't be enough. At that point, he'd literally be inhaling all of the immediate oxygen in the room inside of... Eighteen? Twenty minutes in real time?
He knew there were a few solutions, he was pretty sure there were a handful of machines made just to fix that kind of issue, though not his specific case.
Probably.
But it wasn't something he'd ever even thought of before, so his Google-fu would get a workout.
Had been getting a workout.
This would not be an issue if the room just had windows, instead of an old and desperately in need of service HVAC system...
Leslie exhaled in a huff as he turned a corner. It probably wasn't the end solution to his problem, but that would probably buy him some time, maybe another level or two.
He'd just have to put on his robe and wizard hat and actually use his repair spell for something legitimately worthwhile for a change.
...And maybe see about mugging a druid for some spider-plants. At least he couldn't kill those with negligence. Were there druids here? Did Holland count?
Leslie revised that thought. He'd go to whatever department store he could find with spider-plants.
Holland scared him witless.
-----
Artemis exhaled slowly, carefully. Silently.
She'd been keeping her eyes open and straining her ears ever since she dropped the lunatic with the robo-monkeys and she knew she was being followed.
They were good, she'd give them that, but not so good she hadn't noticed them.
She thumbed a knob on her belt once, twice, three times and shifted her heading. She didn't expect things to get loud, but her pursuer was persistent.
It took fifteen minutes to get to the docks, fantastic time made by jumping across roofs and scaling fire escapes. Her shadow dogging her the entire way.
Calling them 'good' hadn't been a matter of praise.
Stupid though, they were good but so very, very stupid.
She used a fire escape to drop to the ground and ran through an alley. Just like on the roof, they followed her trail almost exactly.
Two blue dumpsters down this alley.
One green recycling dumpster down another.
One painted with graffiti that looked like Robin, that was the one. She juked hard to the side, obvious enough a blind man could see it.
And blind her pursuer must be, they, he she finally let them close enough to see, followed her down into the darkness.
He caught up to her, lunging to grab her and overshooting as she ducked under him.
"Stop!" He gasped, clearly out of breath after he rolled to get his feet back under him. "I'm here to talk!"
He had short cropped red hair and a domino mask. A bow and quiver slung across his back.
Artemis pulled a knife from her boot and moved.
He probably did want to talk, seeing as he could have shot at her easily enough. But she'd let someone else get the drop on her once before and it had only ended well due to their nature. Her mother had never let her live it down.
Or the fact that she still had their hoody.
He grunted and lunged, but she danced out of the way, her fist glancing across his ribs.
"Most men who want to talk don't go chasing girls down dark alleys, now do they?" Sportsmaster had drilled into her that silence was efficiency.
Her mother told her that an angry enemy will have a harder time noticing when you slip a knife between their ribs.
He slowed down, circling around her.
A little more, a little more... There!
"I'd suggest you stop moving." The non-sequitur seemed to puzzle him for a moment.
And then a little red dot splashed over the lenses of his mask and he froze.
"And this is the part where you start talking."
Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
_________________________________________________________________________
Leslie waited ten, twenty...
Thirty minutes. Clark never showed back up.
Sure, he'd come here to give him a hand, but it wasn't supposed to be literal!
He huffed and teleported to the ground. The Zeta Terminal wasn't that far away, and a good walk sounded like a nice chance to think.
Sure, the missing arm irritated him, but that was only about three, maybe four hours of work he'd lost. He could make that up tonight after he got some sleep...
That was another issue he was going to have to figure out. He was running into the same issue his laptop had when he'd cast Haste on it. The air in his room didn't circulate well, so he ended up just inhaling the same air he breathed out, which meant a decreasing amount of oxygen and an increasing amount of carbon-dioxide.
Alright, it wasn't the exact same issue. His laptop would vent heat faster than it could dissipate, but the principal was similar.
The fan worked for now but one more level, two at the most and he'd be back to the same issue. Hell, even if the fan was doing a fantastic job it still wouldn't be enough. At that point, he'd literally be inhaling all of the immediate oxygen in the room inside of... Eighteen? Twenty minutes in real time?
He knew there were a few solutions, he was pretty sure there were a handful of machines made just to fix that kind of issue, though not his specific case.
Probably.
But it wasn't something he'd ever even thought of before, so his Google-fu would get a workout.
Had been getting a workout.
This would not be an issue if the room just had windows, instead of an old and desperately in need of service HVAC system...
Leslie exhaled in a huff as he turned a corner. It probably wasn't the end solution to his problem, but that would probably buy him some time, maybe another level or two.
He'd just have to put on his robe and wizard hat and actually use his repair spell for something legitimately worthwhile for a change.
...And maybe see about mugging a druid for some spider-plants. At least he couldn't kill those with negligence. Were there druids here? Did Holland count?
Leslie revised that thought. He'd go to whatever department store he could find with spider-plants.
Holland scared him witless.
-----
Artemis exhaled slowly, carefully. Silently.
She'd been keeping her eyes open and straining her ears ever since she dropped the lunatic with the robo-monkeys and she knew she was being followed.
They were good, she'd give them that, but not so good she hadn't noticed them.
She thumbed a knob on her belt once, twice, three times and shifted her heading. She didn't expect things to get loud, but her pursuer was persistent.
It took fifteen minutes to get to the docks, fantastic time made by jumping across roofs and scaling fire escapes. Her shadow dogging her the entire way.
Calling them 'good' hadn't been a matter of praise.
Stupid though, they were good but so very, very stupid.
She used a fire escape to drop to the ground and ran through an alley. Just like on the roof, they followed her trail almost exactly.
Two blue dumpsters down this alley.
One green recycling dumpster down another.
One painted with graffiti that looked like Robin, that was the one. She juked hard to the side, obvious enough a blind man could see it.
And blind her pursuer must be, they, he she finally let them close enough to see, followed her down into the darkness.
He caught up to her, lunging to grab her and overshooting as she ducked under him.
"Stop!" He gasped, clearly out of breath after he rolled to get his feet back under him. "I'm here to talk!"
He had short cropped red hair and a domino mask. A bow and quiver slung across his back.
Artemis pulled a knife from her boot and moved.
He probably did want to talk, seeing as he could have shot at her easily enough. But she'd let someone else get the drop on her once before and it had only ended well due to their nature. Her mother had never let her live it down.
Or the fact that she still had their hoody.
He grunted and lunged, but she danced out of the way, her fist glancing across his ribs.
"Most men who want to talk don't go chasing girls down dark alleys, now do they?" Sportsmaster had drilled into her that silence was efficiency.
Her mother told her that an angry enemy will have a harder time noticing when you slip a knife between their ribs.
He slowed down, circling around her.
A little more, a little more... There!
"I'd suggest you stop moving." The non-sequitur seemed to puzzle him for a moment.
And then a little red dot splashed over the lenses of his mask and he froze.
"And this is the part where you start talking."
