[WARNING/REMINDER: This is an ACRAPHOBE Imprint. It ain't warm fuzzies.]

Blue Light Productions presents:

        A top Black and White comic

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|BLiP|  | _ | |   | |   | |     |   |   |   |   | |     |         \
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| #8 |  | | | |   | |\    |     |   |        (An ACROPHOBE Imprint)
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~~~~~~  ~   ~   ~   ~   ~ ~~~~~ ~~~~   FEATURING: Marsha Burgenstock
                                                  and Inacoustic Kid

       [Mid shot of a glass high-raise. Flying out of a smashed centre 
        window comes Marsha Burgenstock holding onto Inacoustic Kid.]


                   **** The SoftCenter Saga ****
                         **** Part 5 ****

         "It's not what you do, it's the mess you make."

"Friends. Brethren. Brothers." The speaker adopted a friendly tone. He 
didn't need it. All that had gathered here knew why they had come. They 
were now waiting expectantly for a tale to unfold. A tale of their future.
        "As you know, we are the downtrodden, the wastrel, the 
homeless. We are the scum left behind when the chaff is removed. We know 
our station in life, and it is not a happy one.
        "We are the ones that must suffer. The ones to always end up the 
butt of the joke. We have always been the worst.
        "But something has happened, brothers. I have seen a wonderful 
sight. A sight that inspired me. A sight that will inspire you all. I 
will tell you what happened.
        "I was in the town of Net.ropolis, that blighted city. Where one 
is not sure if whether your house will still be standing, or even your 
block. I was in Net.ropolis when it happened.
        "I was sleeping behind some cans when I heard something pounding 
the streets. I was awoken when two superheroes smashed down into the 
street beside me. Friends, I hear you mutter 'superheroes', but this is 
something different. There was one superhero in particular. He was 
dressed as we are, our garbage staining our clothes and lives. Yes, a 
superhero that was like us.
        "He was amazing. He flew. He fought with a giant robot. He was 
like us, yet he was a superhero. He called himself 'Homeless Man' and he 
wore this face to protect himself from identity."
        The speaker produced a piece of cloth that had reverently been 
held beside him. It was recognisable as a ski mask, but those around the 
speaker muttered 'the face, the face'.
        "Yes, this was his face. He was the Homeless Man. He was like 
us, and yet he fought. He fought for life. He fought because he could. 
He fought as a homeless, proud of what he was.
        "My friends, what can we do? Do we see this example before us? 
One man was brave enough to rise above our plight, and help others, 
though homeless he was.
        "We are homeless. We are no powerful, as he was, but we are 
strong. Together, we can make a stand. Together, we can something. 
Something different, something vital. We can make a difference, and we 
will. As he did." He brandished the ski mask again.
        "Together, we are the Homeless Ones."
        The homeless looked on, and they nodded. Yes, it was true. They 
were now the Homeless Ones. They could make a difference.
        Someone came scuttling into the alley. It was a small boy. 
"Everyone. Listen up. There's gonna be a break-out outa Queenie's place. 
There's gonna be a bust out. People're gonna escape from there."
        This was something new, something different. Queenie's place 
hung over their lives like a malevolent shadow, permanently shading them 
in darkness.
        The speaker was quick on the uptake. "Friends. This is what 
we've been waiting for. For too long has Queenie's place held us in its 
thrall. Now is our chance. We can fight back. We will help these people, 
when they escape. We can help them get away. We can help them get AWAY 
        This shout was taken up. As one, they cried out. "AWAY FROM 


"What is this incompetence?!" Susan Adam, Heir of Queen Enterprises, 
a place also known as 'Queenie's', yelled.
        "I am only reporting what I know, ma'am. I cannot judge the 
        "No, you cannot! It is not enough that you allowed Marsha 
Burgenstock to escape, but now you tell me Project Silence has also 
        "The integrity alarms were activated, ma'am, informing us that 
the security of Project Silence had been breached. When we arrived, we 
found the Tank had been smashed. From the outside."
        "She must have freed him! That's what she was sent here to do! 
And we allowed her to do it!"
        "Yes, ma'am."
        "Get me a fix on them, mister, or you'll find yourself on the 
receiving end of a firing squad of your own men."
        "Yes, ma'am!"


Marsha Burgenstock looked up and down the corridor carefully before 
entering it. She would have listened for footsteps, but there was one 
problem with that.
        She was escaping from Queen Enterprises, Sin.ci.net.ty, and was 
helping Inacoustic Kid do so as well. Due to being unable to not tinker 
in anything they didn't understand, the fools at Queen Enterprises had 
played with Inacoustic Kid's natural noiselessness powers until they 
went into effect some distance from his body, providing a permanent 
silence field.
        This was good when trying to hid from others looking for you, 
but useless when trying to hear those same people.
        What Marsha really wanted to do was leave the building, but, 
right now, she'd settle for finding some clothes for Inacoustic Kid to 
wear. He had been suspended in a tank of fluid for some time now, and 
the cold air was being to affect his system as he tried to adapt.
        In fact, he was shivering almost violently, and Marsha was 
having difficultly steering him down the corridor. She had considered 
leaving him while she went hunting for clothes, but didn't want to trust 
him being found before she got back.
        Marsha tried to open a door beside her, but it was locked. She 
continued down the corridor, trying doors, and finding each barred to 
        Finally one opened, but bedding fell out of it. It was an 
overstuffed closet. Marsha gratefully pounced on the material, and 
grabbed a handful of sheets.
        The first thing she did was to dry Inacoustic Kid off. With the 
liquid removed, IK shivered less, but still felt the cold. Marsha delved 
through the mess on the floor, and found some blankets. She wrapped 
these around him, and he huddled in the middle of them, looking pitiful 
in his sorry state.
        Still, he was warmer now, and he nodded his thanks to her. 
Marsha kicked the overflow back into the closet, but was unable to shut 
the door. Leaving it as a bad deal, they continued on their way.
        The next problem was encountered around the next corner. Marsha 
spotted a guard standing in the middle of the next intersection of 
corridors. Fortunately, his back was turned to them.
        Marsha and IK walked up to the guard carefully. They didn't have 
to worry about the guard hearing them, but they didn't want to take any 
chances on the guard turning and seeing them.
        They got within arm's reach of him, when Marsha noticed 
something. The guard's skin was black.
        Marsha threw a surprised Inacoustic Kid at the guard, and they 
fell down in a silent tumble. IK managed to roll free first, but the 
guard was too stunned to move. Marsha leapt into the air, and came 
crashing down onto the guard's back with all her might. She grinned as 
she surely felt some of the guard's ribs crack.
        She then lashed out with her foot, and connected solidly with 
the guard's head, smashing it against the floor. A puddle of blood 
slowly grew, indicating a broken nose. The guard lay there, unconscious.
        Marsha turned to see an almost frightened Inacoustic Kid. He 
obviously didn't understand Marsha's motives, and she had no way of 
explaining them to him.
        Sighing to herself, Marsha reached down, turned the guard over, 
and started stripping him of his clothes. She passed the garments to 
Inacoustic Kid, who slowly put them on. They were a little long, but 
better to wear than the blankets. Now they would be able to move faster.
        Marsha kept the guard's walkie-talkie for herself, and motioned 
for Inacoustic Kid to stay put. She moved away from him, and walked 
almost twenty metres before the walkie-talkie came to lift in her hand.
        "*crik* Where are they now, over? *crik*"
        "*crik* Still on the same level, but over near the blue sector, 
over. *crik*"
        "*crik* Unit 221, they are heading your way, over. *crik*"
        Marsha waited, a dreadful realisation forming in her head.
        "*crik* I said, Unit 221, report in, over. *crik*"
        "*crik* Sir, new monitor reading. They are currently apart. One 
is inside blue sector, the other is at Unit 221's position. *crik*"
        "*crik* Alert all units, we have a man down. I repeat, we have a 
man down. All units, report position and bearing. Now! Over. *crik*"
        Marsha waved hurriedly to Inacoustic Kid for him to join her. 
That had some way of tracking them! They had to get out of their 
immediately, keep moving, hope that the tracker didn't find them again 
too quickly.
        IK joined her, and the started running, not in any particular 
direction though. Marsha now knew they were in the 'blue sector', but 
where everything else was in relation to that, she had no idea.
        What they really needed was a lift. Someone down to the first 
floor, where they had more chances to escape. And more chances to get 
caught, Marsha added, gloomily.
        Marsha hunted for a lift, but it was precious minutes before she 
actually found one. The doors were nearly fitted seamlessly into the 
wall, but Marsha spotted the familiar up and down buttons set into one 
side. Looking carefully, she located the outlines of the lift doors 
        She thumped the down button and waited impatiently for the lift 
to arrive. She muttered 'come on, come on' silently under her breath, 
and glanced up and down the corridor, looking for pursuers, and noticed 
Inacoustic kid doing the same.
        Marsha realised that a display had lit up above the lift doors, 
and watched as the numbers grew higher and higher. She placed her hand 
on the doors, and felt vibrations slowly growing as the lift neared. 
Finally they ceased, and Marsha breathed a sigh of relief.
        However, they didn't open. Marsha looked around in panic, and a 
blinking red light attracted her attention. Peering at it, she found 
that the red light was part of a card swipe system, and groaned as she 
realised the amount of security built into just taking a lift.
        Inacoustic Kid had also noticed the problem, and he was searching 
through various pockets of his stolen guard's uniform. He held up 
something with a flourish, and Marsha recognised the design as a 
security card. Inacoustic Kid swiped it through the sensor, and the 
red light flicked off, and a green light came on.
        The lift doors opened, and Marsha and Inacoustic Kid tumbled 
gratefully inside. Spinning around, Marsha stabbed at the button marked 
'First Floor'.


Susan Adam waited on the first floor, surrounded by the leaders of her 
security teams. They were supposed to organise the capture of Marsha and 
Project Silence (actually, they were supposed to never let Marsha and 
Project Silence escape in the first place), but she thought they were 
just acting busy to avoid her.
        Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud speakers.
        "Alert! Non-authorised passengers in Lift 27. Fingerprint check 
has failed. Alert! Shut down in five seconds."
        "Belay that!" Adam shouted. Some people looked at her in 
surprise, but, luckily, some leapt to telephones to relay the 
instructions to let the lift continue.
        "When they get down here, we can capture them," Adam explained, 
silently cursing her team for having to explain anything to them. After 
this botch up, there was going to be a sever shakedown of the security 
teams and their procedures.
        Guards quickly jogged to the entrance to Lift 27, and waited for 
it to arrive.
        The lift clicked into place, and the doors opened. The guards 
looked into an empty lift. They looked helplessly back at an angry Adam.
        She motioned them forward impatiently, and some stomped into the 
lift. One turned to report that the lift still failed to carry 
passengers, but Adam couldn't hear a reply. Strange, considering she 
wasn't that far away. Stranger still was the puzzled looks from those 
beside the reporting guard.
        The obvious answer came to Adam, and she quickly realised where 
they were. She gestured upwards, and the guards obediently looked up, at 
the roof of the lift.


Marsha wondered what movies Inacoustic Kid had watched in his time. When 
the lift got underway, he insisted, through urgent arm movements, that 
they climb through the hatch in the roof on the lift, and lay on top.
        When the lift stopped, Marsha felt the roof vibrate as booted 
feet entered it. Knowing they didn't have much time, Marsha looked for 
other methods of escape.
        IK already had an idea, presumedly gotten from the same place as 
the get-on-top-of-the-lift idea. He climbed a ladder set into the side 
of the lift shaft, and clambered up to the second floor doors. He 
reached across, and half leapt to a position where he could pull the 
doors apart from.
        IK strained, but the doors didn't move. He glanced back down at 
Marsha, and gestured up to the top of the doors. Wondering what he was 
referring to, Marsha ascended the ladder, climbing to be level with the 
top of the doors. She saw the door control mechanism, and realised what 
IK wanted her to do.
        Marsha reached over, and jiggled a likely looking component. IK 
strained again, and this time something moved in the machinery above and 
the doors opened.
        At the same time, the lift hatch was raised, and a pair of 
cautious eyes met Marsha's, as she looked down in panic. The eyes 
turned down to relay something to those below him, and Marsha took the 
opportunity to leap through the gap between the doors that IK had just 
        The lift doors shut behind them, leaving them stranded one floor 
above escape.
        Now Marsha knew what to do, and hurried down the corridor, with 
Inacoustic Kid dogging her heels. She moved from side to side down the 
corridor, trying every door she could, and peering into the rooms beyond 
if they opened. So far, no room satisfied her.
        IK was reaching the point of banging his head on a wall when 
Marsha finally completed her search. IK looked in to see what was so 
special about the room she chose.
        It looked like many a bureaucratic office, with desks filling 
space, and paper piled high. Large windows gave views of the street 
below, inviting in its promise of freedom.
        Marsha picked up a chair and threw it against one of the 
windows, and watched in unsurprised disappointment as it expectedly 
bounced off. Greater force was needed, but she knew just where she might 
get some.
        First, she grabbed a pad, and scribbled down some instructions 
for Inacoustic Kid. He looked at them puzzledly, but she didn't have 
time to explain every step.
        She left the office at a run, going hunting.

The guard stood at an intersection of corridors, looking around 
nervously, and awaiting further orders. As far as he knew, the escapee 
were on a completely different level to his. That was until his 
walkie-talkie squawked.
        "*crik* They left the lift through the roof. They are now on 
level two, blue sector. I repeat, level two, blue sector. All units on 
that level... SMARTEN UP! *crik*"
        The guard jumped at the shout. That was typical, he thought. 
Vent yer anger on us. Ya mangy bastard.
        "Hey! Hey, you! Over here."
        The guard turned in surprise to see a black woman in a nurses 
uniform waving at him. "Hoy! I'm one of the escapees! Don'tcha want me?"
        What the hell was this? The guard grabbed his walkie-talkie, 
reporting as he ran after the disappearing figure. Damn these bending 
        "Unit 331, reporting in. I have spotted one of the prisoners, 
the black one. Am now in pursuit. Request backup. Repeat, request 
immediate backup."
        He rounded the corner just in time to see the figure vanish 
around another corner. If he had been more observant, he might have 
wondered why she was still there to be seen, having plenty of time to 
make her escape.
        He rounded the second corner and saw the woman standing in one 
of the doorways. She waved at him again. "In here, matey." She ducked 
        The guard slowed. He knew that the rooms here had only one exit, 
the one he now had in sight. She wasn't going anywhere. The guard grinned 
slightly. No need to hurry. They were trapped!
        The guard noticed another figure coming towards him form the 
other end of the corridor. He breathed a sigh of relief as he recognised 
the uniform as another guard. The other nodded to him.
        The first guard pulled out his gun, a mini-automatic, and cocked 
it. He indicated the door through which Marsha had gone, and the other 
guard took out his gun, looking in the same direction.
        Together, they sprang into the doorway, opening fire. Although 
plenty of furniture was torn up by bullets, the impact made 
surprisingly little noise.
        The guard slowly noticed the arrangement of the room. Many of 
the desks had been turned over, forming barricades. If they were in 
here, thought the guard, they had some damn good shelter.
        Both guards stepped inside, having sated their initial lust for 
shooting things. They scanned the room carefully, jumping over the desk 
to reveal potential victims. None showed.
        The first guard saw something from the corner of his eye. A desk 
moved! He turned and fired, surprising the other guard, on the other 
side of the room, who quickly recovered and fired at the same place.
        The desk was right before a window, which, due to the guard's 
inaccurate aim, was pelted with fast-moving bullets.
        As Marsha had hoped, it shattered outward under the force.

People out in the street received a very nasty shock. Those that were 
looking up had some warning, but those directly underneath had none.
        Glass from one of the windows on the second floor of Queen 
Enterprises exploded silently outwards. Something else came flying out 
of the same shape, a large complex object, the kind formed by two 
people holding onto one another.
        The bodies fell onto the pavement, which was now strewn with 
glass shards. One body had been underneath on impact. The body of a 
black woman.

Inacoustic Kid stirred and unsteadily clambered to his feet. He knelt 
down by Marsha, but she was already sitting up. IK could see little pink 
splotches were glass had penetrated her back.
        He had been taken by surprise upstairs. He and Marsha had been 
hiding behind the desk in front of the window, holding each other for 
comfort. They had moved the desk slightly from time to time to get the 
guards' attention, and they finally shot the window out for them.
        That's when Marsha had hauled Inacoustic Kid out through the 
window, making sure she went first.
        He wasn't sure what should have happened next, but Marsha calmly 
getting to her feet wouldn't have been an early choice.
        Marsha smiled at IK, showing she was unhurt, and indicated that, 
as they were right outside Queen Enterprises still, and that they were 
escapees, perhaps, just perhaps, they should run for their lives?
        IK grabbed Marsha's hand and together they ran off, to the 
increasing anger of Susan Adam who came out a moment later, surrounded 
by men with machine guns.
        Adam brought her hand up to stop any firing. It wouldn't do. Not 
out here.
        "Get me Arnold Derrik. The Hand shall take care of this," she 
said. "And have Robert Discumby sent to me afterwards. The Teeth shall 
have their work to do as well."


Marsha soon took the lead from Inacoustic Kid, mainly because she had 
some idea of where she was going.
        They ran down Cassius Boulevard, and turned into Hayter Street. 
Marsha spotted her target, and pulled a flagging Inacoustic Kid after her.
        Marsha threw open the door to _The Produce Corner_, and stumbled 
inside. The store keeper looked up, not without a little surprise.
        The keeper quickly recovered, and fetched a pad and pen out from 
below the desk. 'You must leave her immediately,' she wrote.
        Marsha looked at the note, panting too hard to respond in any 
way. Taking a deep breath to get her heart under control, she took the pen 
and wrote simply 'How?'
        The store keeper went to the back door, and opened it. She 
looked outside, and beckoned to someone. As Marsha and Inacoustic Kid 
made their way through the shop, the keeper wrote 'These people can help 
you get away.' She practically pushed Marsha and IK outside.
        Outside, Marsha found herself face to face with rags. They were 
fixed into the shape of a person, and they smelled. Marsha wrinkled her 
nose as the odour made its way into her senses. It gestured for them to 
follow it, and moved off into the back streets.
        Marsha looked back as she followed it, but the back door to _The 
Produce Corner_ was already closed.


Marsha wandered through the back streets of Sin.ci.net.ty, followed by a 
weary Inacoustic Kid, and following a person wrapped in rags and bad 
smells. She wondered where she was going, and turned yet another corner.
        The street seemed to open up into a square of some kind, packed 
with people. Marsha gasped, partly from seeing almost every kind of 
needy person imaginable in the host, but also from the attack on her nose.
        One of them came forward. He was ready for them, and he opened 
his arms wide. He said a few words, some kind of welcome, but Marsha 
couldn't hear him.
        The figure frowned, seeing his words weren't getting though, but 
looked lost as to any solution.
        Marsha looked at Inacoustic Kid who blushed. He moved off a side 
alley way, and joined some kids who learnt the joys of playing without 
        As he left, Marsha was nearly deafened by the noises around her. 
It wasn't that they were loud, but that it came so suddenly after IK's sound 
deprivation that they became a roar for a few moments. Her ears 
adjusted, and the rustling murmur dropped to normal levels.
        The spokesmen tried again. "Welcome, welcome, my friend in need. We 
have been told of your coming, and we have prepared. Fear not, for when 
Queenie sends her forces after you, we shall be here to protect you."
        Marsha was surprised at the quality of words from this begger's 
mouth. What kind of education had the man received in the gutters? 
Other questions also came into her mind, the first being "Who are you 
        The man spread his arms wide. "We are the Homeless Ones, banded 
together to honour a vision."
        Marsha took a second look around her, really seeing for the 
first time the people gathered here. There were people from all 
cultures, all races. Marsha spotted blacks among them, and felt her 
anger rise, but not much. These people weren't trying to kill her, they 
were trying to help her. This she could understand, and so accepted 
their presence as necessary. For now.
        All ages were represented here as well. Young kids played in the 
streets, old people huddled on the ground, trying to keep warm, and 
muttering their insanities to one another. In between, Marsha saw 
teenagers thin and hardened, and saw couples together, more from 
necessity than love.
        But one thing she really found, one thing that made her trust 
that these people were her friends, was solidarity. Rock hardness that 
had stood up to all the unpleasantness that nature could throw, as was 
ready to still try to make a stand.
        It wasn't directed at Marsha, fortunately, or she wouldn't still 
be standing here. It was directed at those who had forced them here. At 
those who hadn't even shown pity for them. And at Queen Enterprises which 
symbolised all their hate.
        "How ready are you?" Marsha asked. Hate was all very well, but 
it didn't stand up to rapid gunfire. "What have you done so far?"
        "We have isolated this place," the man, the leader, replied. "We 
have removed Queenie's eyes and ears from here. We have chased all her 
spies who have tried to infiltrate us. They will not find us so soft to 
bow down to them when they come."
        Marsha wondered how long it would be before those ideals would 
be tested.


Arnold Derrik checked the men he could see over carefully. He loved this 
part of the job. The hunt. When he was given free reign to do what had to 
be done.
        He motioned for the next batch to go, and men and women ran off. 
He had the place totally surrounded.
        He knew exactly where they were. Where the eyes couldn't see. 
that's where they were. Where the ears couldn't hear. That's where they 
were. Where the nose couldn't smell. That's where they were.
        And when the Retina, the Tap and the Snifter failed, that's when 
the Hand was sent in, where the others couldn't tread.
        He had to be careful, though. He couldn't set up a cordon as 
tight as he liked. Not with Her shop there. They had infiltrated Her, 
somehow turned Her against Her own people. He wasn't sure how they did 
it, but they had some of the best protection possible.
        The rest of the area he could block off, and that area he could, 
at most, watch. If anything happened there, he would know about it.
        Derrik gave the signal, and they went it. Step by step, alleyway 
by alleyway, the Hand crept into unknown territory, claiming it for 
their own.
        As they went, the men and women saw others, innocents (as much 
as they were innocent), not their targets. They made their way through 
the back streets, checking, always checking, always making sure. Never 
let anyone behind you unless you are aware of their threat. These people 
were no threat. They were homeless, that was all.
        And then the Homeless Ones exploded in their faces.
        People rose from the streets, throwing off their rags as they 
joined in unanticipated battle. The Hand were taken by surprise, and 
that's when the casualties were made. not in terms of death, but in 
terms of moral.
        The Homeless came out of hiding, holding brick bats and knives. 
Fighting with their hands where they had to. And they had to.
        The Hand fought because of orders. The Homeless One fought 
because they had been pushed too far.
        Derrik fell back, hurried back through the streets he thought he 
now owned. Around him ruin was falling about his ears.
        The Hand did fight back, and fought hard, bringing their weapons 
to bear. Rifles, machine guns and laser pistols. All used. All used to 
bring death to those around them.
        But those that died were replaced. There was no end to those 
that had been ruined by fate. As the dead were replaced, they were 
replaced by those who had more to gain by fighting. This was their 
streets, their lives, and now their dead to avenge.
        The Hand was pushed back, repulsed. From the start, their moral 
had been shaken, and now their enemies fought harder, believed more in 
the fight than they did.
        Wood battled bullets. Belief fought orders. Need fought want. 
Right fought might. And all won.

Derrik barely made it back alive, or so he thought. He thought that his 
life was in the balance, but he didn't understand the Homeless. It 
wasn't for the right to kill the Homeless fought for, it was the right to 
be left alone.
        Derrik didn't understand this. And so he was defeated.
        He knew the Heir would not be pleased. She had wanted those two 
back, whatever the cost, but he had found the cost too high to paid. Let 
her pay it with her own skin if she wanted to. He had others to think 
about, his Hand, and he wasn't about to get them killed over two escapees.
        Derrik also knew about the effectiveness of the Teeth. They 
could bite hard, and bite long. Once the Teeth had decided on something, 
they would stick with it until it wa excepted.
        Some version of this would remain, but now the truth. Two 
intruders had infiltrated Queen Enterprises, barely escaping with their 
lives. They hid among the dregs of the population, their kind. They had 
escaped justice, but they would be searched for.
        Something like that. Louis Prowtero, the Tongue, would speak, and 
he would be believed. The Homeless would become even more despised than 
they were now, but that was acceptable.
        The underdog had won. For now.


Marsha Burgenstock came out of hiding. She felt some guilt, misgivings 
about not helping to fight, but she had been rejected in her offers. 
This was their battle, and it was time they fought it.
        "Where will you go now?" asked the Homeless One's leader.
        Marsha shrugged. "I suppose I'd better get Inacoustic Kid back 
to the LNHQ." She looked over to where IK stood, looking lost and 
alone. "Someone has to help him get back, explain what happened. I think 
they'll be able to help him recover."
        Marsha looked away, another question forming slowly on her 
tongue. "Could you help us?" she finally asked. "I don't know how we can 
get out of here without being spotted."
        "Of course," replied the leader. "We are the Homeless. We are 
unnoticed. A fact that which may seem repugnant to our remaining ego, it 
did help us to defeat our opponents. We can get you out of here."
        Marsha nodded, feeling a load lifting from her shoulders. It was 
over. Queen Enterprises might look for her, but they would look in vain.
        She wasn't sure what would happen now. She'd need some sort of 
protection. She might go back to the LNH. She go home. The thought did 
not seem so repulsive as it once did.
        Still, that decision could wait until later.



Marshmallow Lass was created by Campbell 'Sasquatch' March

Inacoustic Kid is Public Domain

Everyone else is mine.

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