Cowman

"Well I've been accused of showing up underdressed on several occasions," Harry said, pulling the shirt free of his pants. "So recently I've been airing on the side of caution."

He followed her inside, giving a low whistle as he looked around the room.

[ QUOTE ]
"can I get you a drink? I still need to pay you back for that delicious mojito”

[/ QUOTE ]

"I'd take some pop if ya got any," he shrugged. "If not, just surprise me."

Harry paused at the door of 304B to zip up his fly, thanking whatever unknown force that had made him look down before knocking.

With his red parrot boxer shorts now properly hidden, Harry knocked on the door.

Harry, happily oblivious to all the super-powered antics, decided he'd better head back to his room to get ready. After all, it might take him awhile to assemble a suitable outfit. He hadn't brought many dress clothes with him.

He gave the grouchy blue woman a friendly wave as he passed and headed down for his cabin. It was one of the more modest ones, but still fancier than what he was used to.

As the cabin door closed, a ball of sparkling light shot out of the bathroom to hover in front of his face.

"He's chasing me again," said the small, glittery fairy that now hovered in front of him.

"Not my fault," Harry shrugged, though he shot a disapproving look at the small monkey that ran out of the bathroom after the fairy. "Six, you shouldn't chase her like that."

The animal screeched irritably at Harry, angry at having it's fun cut short.

"Why's he so nasty to me?"

"He's like that with everyone, Bugg," Harry sighed, pulling his suitcase out from under the bed. "It's just his personality."

"Well, his 'personality' sucks," Bugg grouched before noticing Harry digging through his clothes. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Believe it or not, yer ol' partner has himself a date," Harry said proudly, tossing his straw hat onto the hatstand. "I bought this lady a drink up top and she asked me to that club they got down there. Hmmm, just realized I never got her name."

Harry shrugged, pulling out a slightly nicer looking hawaiin shirt and a pair of white slacks.

"Oh, oh. Can I come?" Bugg asked excitedly, zipping over to stand on his shoulder. "I could help you out. Be your good luck charm. Like Tinkerbell."

"I'll never understand your fascination with that movie," Harry sighed, laying the outfit out on the bed. "And I think I'll manage just fine on my own thanks. It hasn't been THAT long since I had a date. Besides," he added as an afterthought. "Tinkerbell was evil."

"She was not," Bugg gasped in shock.

"Oh yeah," Harry replied. "Look at the facts. She swore openly in front of minors, she tried to get the Lost Boys to murder Wendy, and she sold out Peter and the gang to try and get her own way. And that's not even counting the pedophilia-like obsession with Pan. Evil."

Bugg had no retort to this and flew off to sulk behind the telephone. Harry washed his face and hands in the bathroom before changing into his new clothes.

"Well, how do I look?" he asked after he'd buttoned up the shirt and made sure it was tucked in neatly. He got a scowl from Six and a noncommital grunt from Bugg. Giving another shrug in defeat, Harry left the room.

Harry looked up from his drink at the sound of the alarm, but didn't bother moving. A few moments later his inaction was proven effective as someone announced that it was merely the ship's staff.

"Works for me," Harry smiled, glad that he wouldn't have to leave his seat after all. He leaned back against the bar, looking lazily about the rest of the deck.

One man had left his chair when the alarm had started while a blue woman nearby remained where she was. Harry watched her freeze and disintergrate a cat that he'd actually had some fun with earlier today.

Harry gave an annoyed sigh, turning back to the bar. No respect for others, that was the problem with people today. He'd liked that cat. Glancing at his watch to make sure he didn't lose track of time, Harry went back to sipping his Coke.

[ QUOTE ]
"Come ready to party, and *after sipping her cocktail* thanks again for the drink, cutie.” The woman saunters off towards the cabins.

[/ QUOTE ]

Harry watched her go, thoughtfully sipping at his Coke as he turned back to the barman.

"She called me 'cutie'," he said, raising an eyebrow and sounding a little wary.

"She was being nice," the barman answered once he'd realized Harry was talking to him.

"Yeah, but... 'cutie'?"

"Have any other good looking, single women shown any interest in you?" the barman asked back.

"Hmmm, good point, buddy," Harry conceded. He leisurely sipped at his drink. He supposed he'd have to put on something a little fancier for the club.

"Well, let it not be said that ol' Harry can't mix with any crowd if the occasion calls," he smirked to himself.

[ QUOTE ]
“thank goodness you got here, I was beginning to think that there weren’t any singles on this monstrosity.”

[/ QUOTE ]

If Harry noticed her temporary preoccupation, he didn't show it. He motioned to the barmen to bring her order and spun around on his stool to lean back on the bar.

"Well, I'm single alright," he smiled wryly, raising his Coke in a mock toast. "Stick with what ya know, I guess. But whatever! Nothin' can ruin my day now. This is the first real vacation I've had in forever. No surprises, no emergencies, no unforseen complications. Just clear sailin' fer ol' Harry. That's me by the way."

Harry sighed contentedly, looking up at the clear blue sky.

"Yup, what could possibly go wrong on a trip like this."

((I'll give it a try. ))

[ QUOTE ]
a slender Chinese woman standing at a nearby bar.

[/ QUOTE ]

Harry flopped onto one of the bar stools, spinning himself around once before leaning on the bar and ordering a Coke.

He was dressed comfortably in worn cargo shorts and lime-green sandals. A straw hat of such poor design that he may have well woven it himself, was jammed down over his dark brown dreadlocks. The unbuttoned hawaiin shirt worn over the plain "wife-beater" was such a jarring contrast of vibrant blue and yellow, orange and red flowers, that it almost seemed more "squint-worthy" than the bright sun that shone down on the ship's deck.

Sipping happily at his drink through a twisty, tourist-trap straw, Harry suddenly seemed to realize that someone was beside him.

"Hola," he greeted the Chinese woman enthusiastically. "I'm currently celebrating a ringing victory on the shuffleboard court. So how's about you join me and I buy ya a drink."

[ QUOTE ]

"As you both can see, I need that serum. And soon. Do either of you know where a Council base is around here?"

[/ QUOTE ]

"They're crawling around alot of places in Faultline," PJ answered, giving a half shrug.

"Though, we DID hear some sort of explosion earlier," Gilda added, thinking back. "It wasn't too far away either. In that direction somewhere." She pointed a little north of the building her and PJ had been staying in.

[ QUOTE ]

"Why didn't you... What was I... CHARLES!!!!"

Mortanis convulsed dangerously, his flailing managing to break a few of his ribs. Another new sight was a foaming at his mouth, a bleeding from his nose. His condition was getting worse...

[/ QUOTE ]

Gilda winced as Mortanis went into another fit. PJ grimaced and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, THIS is off to a great start," she grumbled. "C'mon, it's only a matter of time before someone flies over and sees him. Then we'll have a lot of explaining to do."

PJ held out a hand and the fingers suddenly turned black, snapping out to latch onto Mortanis. Her entire forearm came apart into the black tendrils, all whipping down to grab onto the flailing man. The tar-like substance wrapped around him tightly, preventing him from further self-inflicted injuries.

She then began dragging him toward the roof access door, hopefully to hide in the stairwell until whatever this was had passed. Her face had changed along with her arm, her eyes growing a bit bigger and going white again; as well as her teeth turning into the large spikes of bone that they'd been previously.

"This is worse than last time," Gilda remarked, walking after PJ. "What if he doesn't get better?"

"We... It," PJ corrected herself, jerking her head at her morphed arm. "It can sometimes fix people. But I'd rather not do it unless I have to."

The creature could read people's brains. Not really telepathy, more like recognizing chemical and electrical impulses which it could interpret into images or memories. With normal people it was fairly easy, but people with superpowers tended to be a little more difficult. She wasn't really sure why.

Healing someone further complicated matters. The creature didn't actually heal damage itself. It modified the body to heal itself at an accelerated rate. To do so, it had to temporarily bond with the organisms mind, and PJ, being part of the thing, would be along for the ride. A two-way ride, actually. While PJ would be privy to some of Mortanis' memories, he would glimpse some of hers as well.

With any luck the man would settle down soon and it wouldn't even be necessary. PJ pulled Mortanis into the stairwell and Gilda closed the door behind the three of them.

[ QUOTE ]

"I can probably find us a place to stay for a while, even in this city, but your friend here might be a little conspicuous in this form. I suggest we return to the ground and find someplace to sleep, at least for tonight. And to eat, I'm starving."

[/ QUOTE ]

The Murker wasn't very happy with these new developments, but the cat was out of the bag as it were, and being stubborn about it now wasn't going to help things.

The creature seemed to draw into itself, growing smaller and thinner as tendrils of it whipped about. Pale hands and feet appeared from within and the head began to round, solid white eyes appearing on its face.

For a moment PJ stood there looking like she was wearing a writhing, twisting robe. Her eyes were still a solid white and her mouth, while human, was still filled with large, pointy teeth.

Then it was all over. The substance settled, taking on the shape and color of the clothes Gilda had first seen her in. Irises and pupils faded into sight, and teeth shrank back to normal.

"Told you finding work was complicated," PJ said to Gilda, shoving her hands into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt.

"I've got some food stored up back there," she addressed Mortanis now, nodding toward the building they'd come from. "Mostly just canned stuff, but it's still good. Other than that, yer on yer own. I don't do 'plans'."

PJ turned to go. Hero, villain, or whatever, Mortanis' kind was to be avoided as far as she was concerned. Only trouble came from getting mixed up in their schemes and battles, and she had enough problems of her own.

Gilda suddenly ran up behind her, grabbing the smaller girl by the shoulder.

"You're leaving?" the soldier asked, dumbfounded and a little hurt.

"I don't like getting mixed up in this crap," PJ answered, not turning around, though she stopped walking. "I'm not looking for trouble and I don't want to make a name for myself."

"But if what he says is true, about Arachnos," Gilda shot back, looking a little desperate. "I mean, I didn't ever think about being punished for what happened to my squad, but I've been a soldier with them long enough to know never to assume anything. I'm worried. About where I'll go; what I'll do. I've never.... I've never had to work alone before."

It was true. Gilda had become part of a gang in the Isles at a young age and had moved straight into Arachnos after that. She'd always been a part of a group or squad. The prospect of having no one to rely on but herself was a strange concept to her.

Sure, Mortanis was there, but Gilda wasn't sure how much she trusted him just yet. Not that she was afraid he'd murder her in her sleep or anything, but he had his own agenda. Mercenaries were known for being unpredictable and for 99% of them, 'loyalty' only went as far as was convienent to them.

PJ turned around, a little taken aback by the slight pleading note in Gilda's voice. Before her life had taken the drastic turn that had led to her current situation, PJ had been a kind, if somewhat cynical person. The look in the soldier's eyes struck a chord with that old aspect of herself.

"D***," PJ muttered with a resigned sigh. "Fine, I'll stick around for now." She rubbed irritably at her eyes. She was going to regret this; she just knew it.

[ QUOTE ]
"I am not going to harm her, or you for that matter, as long as I am not provoked. What is your business with Miss Ferris?"

[/ QUOTE ]

"Sockets were killed," the Murker answered, dropping down to all fours, suddenly resembling a hairless dog, though the head remained the same. "More will come looking. We couldn't stay there saftely."

"Meat could have stayed," it continued, gesturing with its head toward Gilda. "But we wanted to talk more. Wanted..."

The thing cut itself off, as though it had said too much. Gilda was starting to get a look of realization on her face. She stared hard at the Murker, though she addressed Mortanis.

"The girl I was with before; PJ. Just before those guys in suits showed up, she said someone was coming to look for her. And now this thing says they were looking for it...."

She trailed off, continuing to stare at the creature as if she were trying to look into the middle of it.

[ QUOTE ]
"You are becoming quite popular today, Miss. I'm sorry, but last time we met I didn't catch your name." His fists began to glow a menacing black...

[/ QUOTE ]

"Gilda Ferris," she answered once she'd gotten over the initial shock of his sudden reappearance. "And I think it's more of a case of 'wrong time, wrong place' actually." The sudden whirlwind of events that had taken place after her initial rescue by PJ were leaving even the hardened soldier a little disoriented.

Meanwhile, the Murker didn't seem to be taking the interruption too well. It didn't move to attack yet, but its previously solid limbs were now in a state of constant irritation.

The arms seemed to flex and burst apart, strands of the muck latching onto the ground for a second before snapping back up to reform the arm once again. The legs were in a similar state; feet doubling in size one minute only to fold back on themselves the next into little more than a large stump. A second later they'd be reshaped only to contort again in the next moment.

The substance that made up the creature seemed to be layered, strands upon strands, making it look as though it were made of writhing black muscle.

"You were the one with the rotting meat," it growled at Mortanis, the tooth-laden head elongating slightly as it talked. "Why do you follow us?"

After escaping through the ceiling, the creature had stopped to rest on the roof. The trail it was leaving wasn't normal, but a result of the agents' weapondry. The silver guns were effective against just about anything, but they were tailor-made for the creature and they were quite effective.

Once it felt a little better, it slunk down the building to investigate the car. It found no additional agents or anything else useful. The thing seemed to look around as though checking for anyone watching before whipping tendrils out to pull it from the ground and toward the roof of a neighboring building.

Again it slunk inside, coming to rest on the top floor. The thing swelled itself up, actually forming rudimentary legs and arms. There was a swirling around its middle and Gilda suddenly reappeared from within the monster's mass.

The Arachnos soldier could not describe what had happened when she was set apon by the creature. She'd had thought she would have suffocated inside the thing, but though she couldn't breath, it didn't seem she'd had to.

She'd also been slightly aware of what the monster had been doing, getting vague moments of vision through its "eyes", like looking through fogged glass. There was also the whispering that seemed to come from all around her and from the inside of her own head all at once.

But now, as she was expelled out onto the dusty floor, her senses returned to normal and her chest once again rose and fell in time with her breathing. She was shaking as she looked up at the thing standing over her, more from the shock of her experience than fear of the monster.

The creature made no move toward her. In fact, it seemed to be regarding her, as though trying to decide what to say. Gilda was a forceful type of person, however, so she decided to take the initiative.

"What are you?" she managed to say, her voice a little unsteady. The creature continued to look at her, still seeming unsure of what to say.

"We don't know," it finally replied, in the same deep, rasping voice. "Other meat have called us the Murker."

Gilda pricked up at this. Most people who hung around Faultline for any length of time had heard stories of the Murker. It was an urban legend amongst the homeless of the place, describing some sort of monster that lived in the sewers and alleys of the city, feeding on anything that was careless enough to wander close to it.

Gilda had dismissed the stories as nothing more than tall tales, but now here it stood before her. Her hand instinctively reached for her sidearm only to find the holster empty. Seeing her actions, the Murker raised its hand toward her. Gilda's gun slowly emerged from the tacky-like substance that made up the monster. It showed it to her, as if to prove that she was utterly defenseless, before absorbing it back into its palm.

The creature regarded the seemingly helpless man on the ground. Its main mouth stretched down to within inches of him, the railroad spike sized teeth jutting out at every angle. The thing seemed to consider for a moment or two before backing off and suddenly turning its attention to Gilda.

The soldier had been riveted to the spot, watching as the monster had examined Mortanis. Now she barely had time to yelp in surprise as the black shape whipped toward her. It took barely a second for the black substance to wrap around her, swallowing her up from sight.

With a mighty surge the creature shot up through a crack in the ceiling toward the roof.

Taken by surprise, the remaining agents didn't last very long. Between the attacks from the undead and the creature that was pursuing them, it wasn't long before they lay on the floor, the blue liquid leaking from their wounds.

With its primary enemies down, the creature immediatly snapped its attention to Svagthose and the others. The thing seemed as if it wanted to attack, the tendrils whipping about, smaller mouths forming to snap in their direction. But it stayed where it was for the moment.

It suddenly began to stretch outward from the middle, forming a lump that split in half, razor teeth appearing out of nowhere from the black, tacky-like substance. The newly formed, larger mouth began to speak, its voice a deep, rasping sound.

"Who are you," the creature demanded. "Dead flesh, rotting meat. You attack the Sockets. You attack us now?" The question seemed to almost be a dare as the creature swelled a bit in size.

[ QUOTE ]
Svagthose resumed command of the undead, preparing for a bitter fight.

[/ QUOTE ]

And just in time too, as two of the agents came barreling through a nearby door, silver weapons blazing. But oddly enough, they weren't advancing on Gilda and Svagthose. In fact, in the next second it became quite clear that they were retreating.

From the door they'd just came through, someTHING came spewing forth after them. A Lovecraftian horror; whipping tendrils black as tar, nashing teeth everywhere. Every now and then a recognizable shape would appear within the thing; a mouth, a head, glaring white eyes, clawing hands. And then just as quickly, they'd be gone again, swallowed up by the surging mass of sludge.

Bits of the other agents were still being carried along with it. One's torso and head were still hanging, impaled upon one of the whipping tendrils. The two remaining agents continued to fire relentlessly at the creature, and while it still endeavored to tear them to pieces, it flinched and roared at every blast from the silver weapons.

Gilda jumped in surprise when Mortanis suddenly seemed to start having some kind of fit.

"Hey, what's wrong," she shouted at him, kneeling down and trying to hold him still, though being careful not to get too close. She still didn't know just what kind of meta he was, and if he had superstrength he could very well snap her bones with a wave of his hand.

Another loud crash sounded from the interior of the building, making her look away from the man on the floor. In talking to Mortanis, she'd quite forgotten that there were four more of those men in there after PJ.

She tried shaking him, hoping whatever this was would soon pass. From what she saw at the door, she'd be no match for the other agents. She'd need Mortanis' help if she was going to save PJ.

"Talk? About what," she asked skeptically, though her shoulders relaxed slightly. The fact that he wasn't immediately trying to arrest or kill her made the situation much more hopeful. Not a Hero or a madman. Things were looking up.

Distracted by the fight at the door, Gilda hadn't noticed the blanket fall away as she stood up. Her Arachnos uniform wasn't exactly welcome in Paragon, especially by most super-powered citizens.

As Mortanis entered, she pulled out her sidearm and leveled it at his head. She was well aware that it was a fruitless gesture. The man could probably kill her before she even pulled the trigger. Still, to her credit, she kept her hands from shaking.

"What do you want?" she said as dangerously as she could. He didn't exactly LOOK like a Hero, but you could never tell now-a-days.

The two agents' expressions never changed, even as the undead minions came at them. The weaker ones weren't too dangerous, and the two men tore into them with their crackling weapons and punches too powerful to be altogether human.

And had it been just those first three creatures, the agents would have made short work of them. But these minions were more for shields, cannon fodder, distractions. And they performed their task well. As one agent batted aside one of the decayed servants that was clawing at his arm, one of the large swords severed his arm cleanly at the shoulder.

The man didn't seem too upset by this, however. He simply reached down to his fallen arm, which was leaking a luminescent blue liquid on the ground, picked up the gun from it's limp fingers, and resumed firing.

But resilient as the two agents were, the odds were just too stacked against them. Blue energy flashed and crackled, tearing apart undead flesh, dry as papyrus. But it was only a delay. One solid push from Mortanis' stronger minions and the two men would be overwhelmed.

((Okay Tart. Go to town on 'em. Once they lose enough bits, they'll go down for good. ))

"Hostile encountered," the remaining agent stated business-like, drawing a weapon from his jacket. The thing was silver in color, a bit larger than a handgun, and crackled with energy when the man activated it.

At the same time, the drained agent spasmed shortly. His limp hand suddenly came back to life, latching onto Mortanis' arm with a grip of iron. His glasses had fallen off during his fall, and as he raised his head the villain could see that where the man's eyes should have been, there were just two empty holes. metal circuitry ran around the inside, making them look like two large wire jacks.

The agent at the door lifted the weapon, pointing it toward Mortanis. As the second agent began reaching into his jacket for his own weapon, the first one's fired. Deadly blue energy lanced out toward the mastermind.

[ QUOTE ]
"Yes you can. I am looking for someone, and they seemed to have stopped here. I am a liaison for a private firm that is interested in this subject, and I am authorized to do what is necessary in order to find them. So, if you don't mind, let me through."

[/ QUOTE ]

"I think we've got a problem," one of the men said, though it was obvious he wasn't talking to Mortanis. He tilted his head as though listening for something, but the only sound that came was sudden muffled shouting. Somewhere in the building crashes and bangs started to sound.

Gilda looked toward the noises, afraid that the four men had found PJ. The two men at the door looked at each other and then back to Mortanis.

"We don't have time for this sir," they said, their voices a little harder now. "We are government officials going about our business. Now please leave." One of them stepped forward, reaching out and arm to push Mortanis away from the door.

PJ had been absolutely right. No sooner had she disappeared into the confines of the building than six men came walking calmly into the room. They were dressed in impeccable black suits with sunglasses obscuring their eyes. Gilda had the uneasy felling that they all looked the same, but maybe it was just the identical clothing.

"Excuse me," one of them said after studying her for a moment. "We're looking for someone. Female, about 5'6", no hair. We'd appreciate any information you can give us." The man flashed an official looking ID.

"Um... yeah," Gilda answered slowly, taking PJ's instructions to heart. "She WAS here. Met 'er last night when I was lookin' for someplace to sleep. She took off this afternoon though. Said she had someplace to be."

The six men seemed to consider this for a minute or two, some silent communication passing between them as they glanced at each other. The one who'd spoken before seemed about to ask another question, but was suddenly interrupted.

[ QUOTE ]
He knocked loudly on the front door and asked if anyone was home. He waited for a response.

[/ QUOTE ]

Again, the six men glanced at each other.

"Go see who it is," the leader said calmly. Two of the group left for the door. "Stay here and do not move." He instructed Gilda before turning his back on her. "Search the building."

The remaining four men set off into the rest of the building in search of PJ. Gilda stayed where she was, hoping that her new friend had found somewhere good to hide.

=========================================

The door opened to Mortanis, revealing two men in black suits with perfect, slicked back hair. They regarded him calmly with no threat in their expression, though their eyes remained hidden behind their sunglasses.

"I'm sorry sir," one said. "We're with the government. I'm afraid we're conducting a search at the moment."

"Can we help you with something?" the other added. Their voices remained unthreatening, though they WERE standing directly in the doorway.

Gilda flinched a little when a muffled rumble came from a nearby building. PJ looked up at the sound, but didn't seem too worried about it.

"You're always hearing gunfire and explosions around here," the homeless girl shrugged. "The rebuilt area's pretty safe, but beyond that's still kinda a warzone."

The two returned to their meal for awhile, until another sound interrupted them. This time it was a car. Now even Gilda knew that a car amidst the cracked and buckled streets of Faultline was something very odd.

PJ had already rushed over to the window, Gilda soon joining her to look down at the black vehicle that was currently pulling up to the front of the building. The car was new and expensive looking, definitly not the type you'd see in the bad part of Faultline. And what was even more disconcerting was that the headlights weren't on.

Gilda began to feel a little uneasy, but PJ's reaction was much more animated. Cursing frantically she ran back inside, grabbing her bag and stuffing some things inside. Gilda followed her, utterly confused until PJ turned and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Here, sit down," she said hurriedly, pushing the soldier onto the floor and throwing one of the blankets at her. "Wrap that around you and keep it over your head. D*** it, your hair's too clean," she mumbled. Looking around she suddenly picked up a handful of ashes and dumped them on the other woman's head.

"Hey, what's the idea," Gilda coughed, batting at PJ's hands in protest as the bald girl roughly rubbed the stuff into her scalp, causing her hair to clump and frizz. PJ just ignored her question, sitting down on her haunches in front of Gilda.

"Listen, some guys in suits are gonna come in here. They'll ask you questions about me. Just say you met me here last night while you were looking for a place to sleep, but I left earlier today. Try not to seem too coherent. They won't press you if they think yer a little mental."

"Yes, but what..."

"Please," PJ pleaded, grabbing her by the shoulders again. "I can't explain it right now. It would be really bad if they caught me, so please..."

She trailed off, looking desperatly at Gilda until the Arachnos soldier nodded. Giving a quick "thanks", PJ dashed through one of the doorways just as the sound of footsteps on the stairs reached her.

Gilda was rather surprised at what awaited them inside the building. She'd expected the usual homeless set-up; makeshift blanket, old bag, fire burning in a steel barrel.

Here, however, there was a cobbled together bed that looked to be made out of debris from the building. The fire was actually burning inside of something that appeared to be a mish-mash of hubcaps, car parts, and some other things she couldn't identify. Chicken wire formed a small dome over the flames with a metal pan sitting on top; ideal for cooking things on.

"Wow," Gilda said as PJ pointed to an old mattress she could sit on. "This is pretty nice. As far as drafty, condemned buildings go anyway."

"Yeah, well," PJ shrugged. "I used to be an engineer, so I'm pretty handy. And you'd be surprised what you can find just laying around the streets."

Gilda had to agree with this when she thought she recognized a piece of Rikti armor among the cobbled together fire-basin. PJ opened a can of baked beans with her knife and set the can on top of the fire.

"It's not much," the homeless girl sighed, "but it's good enough."

"You seem very skilled," Gilda said conversationally. "Can't you get a job somewhere?"

PJ suddenly seemed to become nervous, running a hand over her bald head.

"It's..... it's not that simple," she stammered, lapsing into silence immediately after. Gilda felt she'd hit a nerve and wisely decided to let the subject drop.