A killin' In Town

"Sheriff! Sheriff!"

Sheriff Black straightened at his his desk and sighed, wishing he'd had time to finish his mug before whatever-this-was broke loose. Coffee wasn't easy to come by out here, and it was a damned shame that this cup of it seemed like to go to waste. 

There was an enormous thud on the porch outside, and then a brief pause before the door opened. The man looking in was Dan Brighton, the town's cobbler, and from the sound of things he'd tripped on the porch and crashed into the door before he managed to open it. He was red-faced and breathin' hard, but he managed t'say, "Doc says y'gotta come! A feller's been killed."

Sheriff black sighed again and stood up. "Where? How?"

"Outside the saloon," Brighton told him, bending over to catch his breath. "I was passing by, and Doc said to fetch you right quick. I didn't see much, but... the feller, he was torn open."

Yep, this one's going to be an unholy mess. He stepped around his desk, put a hand on the cobbler's shoulder. "All right, Dan. Good work." He sighed again. "Now... I'm going to need you to do one more thing. I know you've got a shop to run and all, but I need you to walk -- walk, mind you, slow and careful -- up the hill and fetch back the Gravedigger. Can you do that?"

Brighton's face went through several expressions in the space of a single breath: objection, understanding, acceptance. He knew as well as they all did that whether this was a simple murder or something more, they were going to need the Gravedigger to help with it. He nodded slowly.

"Good man," said the Sheriff. "Catch your breath first."

"I'll see to it, Sheriff," Brighton said, breathing more easily now. "Just give me a minute. Got a little... over-excited, I think."

Sheriff Black shrugged. "Well, we don't see dead bodies in town just every week -- and thank the Great Spirit for that." 

StV: Meet-Cute

"Are ya new here?" asked a girl's voice, and Blackhand spun around so fast he nearly embarrassed himself. 

He'd come to the Self-Defense class after the more ordinary academic classes, under the theory that it wouldn't hurt to keep in practice, or to see how Saint-Vincent's School for Exceptional Youth was training their students to fight. 

The girl was maybe a year younger than he was -- hard to be sure -- with long blonde hair and pale blue eyes; her accent was pure Midwestern. Kansas, maybe? "Didn't mean to startle ya," she said easily. "It's just I don't think I've seen ya here before."

Blackhand rolled his shoulders, forcing them to relax. "Sorry," he said. "It's my first time at training." 

"Oh?" she asked. "I only started last month. Maybe we could practice together?"

He shrugged. "You any good?"

"I mean, kind of..." She blushed. "Took first place at the Tae Kwon Do championship in middle school. But the way they fight here is... different."

"No, that should work," Blackhand said. "I take it we don't use powers for this?"

She drew back. "Wow. You really are new here."

He made a vague yes-and-no gesture. "More of a temporary guest," he said. 

"Oh! You're one the Hounds, then."

Blackhand didn't deny it. "Call me Blackhand," he said. "Or... Shit. Call me Mike. Pardon my French."

She laughed softly. "Robin," she said. "I'm not strong enough to have a code name, or a call sign, or anything like that. It's nice to meet you, Mike." 

Music: A Christmas Carol

Tom Lehrer:

December, is it?

I really have no idea how this might have happened, but we're now in December and wow there is a lot that has to be done before the end of the year. I need to follow up on the support tickets I have open, then speak to my boss and lay out a timeline for the required upgrade. I also need to have a couple of people re-do their testing in the TRAIN environment, because if things work there that didn't work in test, well... that bodes well for the production upgrade and also suggests that I need to take a much closer look at what has and hasn't been implemented in TEST. We already discovered at least one item where the GIS connection had been upgraded in the other two environments, but not there. 

Then there's the planning for Christmas, and for my Dad's interment, both of which need to get nailed down this week. There's also making sure that Secondborn passes the fall semester, which pretty much also needs to get nailed down this week. 

It's enough to make want to go back to roaming the moors, howling at the moon and feasting on the unwary. 

StV: Don't Pick That Fight

"You told us to let him go," Blackhand said. "Why'd you do that?"

Lynx sighed. "Because I didn't want to see you get killed."

Blackhand hesitated, shuddering. "Yeah, but he didn't manage to kill us."

"...Because he was busy killing like fifty other people all at once."

Blackhand's jaw worked. "Okay, fair point. Anyway, I'm not going to try to kill him."

"Oh?"

"Hearne's orders. I do follow orders."

Lynx sighed. "Somehow I'm still entirely reassured."

"Somehow, I'm still not going to explain."

"Okay, fine. You want me to let him know you want to talk to him? So nobody mistakes it for an ambush?"

"...You know what? Yes. Please. Do that."