AGE OF CATTY: First of all I need to broadcast this STOP BUGGING ME ABOUT HER AGE! I know she's a bit young, but seeing as I'm only fifteen, I have yet to know what it feels like to be sixteen or higher, so deal, I write what I know. Haven't you guys ever heard of prodigies… well? This topic has been run to extinction, she's 15 she's young the Titans are around her age they're young discussion closed.
Ahem, sorry that was starting to get very annoying. This chapter is still rough, but soon, oh ho yes soon, I will get to a part I've been looking forward to. Oh btw HAPPY TURKEY DAY!
A Cat's Tale
By: Catty Engles
Edition Twelfth: Run
I know I've lost. I've lost to a girl who doesn't even know she's winning, "Then why did you kiss me?"
My voice breaks and I stumble back into the apartment. Grabbing my coat. Out the door. Spinning. Tears. Pavement.
I stagger back upright, wiping streaks of rain and tears from my face, sniffling loudly. I hug the overcoat closer to my body and start to walk, letting my feet take me where they may. Bitter emotions are coursing through me and I know I let the situation get out of hand. A professional relationship is out the window and twenty blocks away with permanent sick leave.
A limo hurries by me, one of the few vehicles still in action. Was that Charlie? No, couldn't have been.
My mind runs over the past few hours, disconnected and disbelieving. The baseball game, Ashley Chamberlain, Robin… I refuse to finish the thought, thankfully a distraction in the form of a familiar building looms out of the mist.
Cat Corps, my newly acquired business terminal, accepts my password and I stumble to the elevator and punch in floor 40, cursing the relaxing music, lurching past Tina's desk, and finally pushing open the door to the deserted marketing sector and collapsing in my corner office. My head is in my hands the moment I drop into my chair, but my eyes are open the tears spent and dry.
In the middle of the clutter is a note obviously written hastily by a clumped and uneven script. It reads:
Meet me at Tigerlily's encounter- JMB
At Mrs. Massey's final resting place- SK
2 AM
XA musical nine tone warble comes from a plaque mounted on the wall. My communicator is going off, the first time since I acquired it and turned the Titans down in their offer of superhero partnership. Me, in spandex? Not in this lifetime. I rush to the wall and slam the receiving button, "What." My patience quota has been depleted tonight.
Seems like someone else's has too, "Where is she?!" Robin's face flickers with static, but that's not enough to conceal his demanding tone and knitted brows.
"Robin," I massage my temples, keeping one finger on the receiving button, "What are you talking about. I'm tired and am in desperate need of a-"
"Starfire, where is she? What have you done to her?" He snarls into the screen and I blink, taken back by his open ferocity and conviction.
In the background I hear Cyborg, "Cool it, man." Then my screen splits in two, Robin on the top and Cyborg on the bottom, "Catty, where are you?"
My heart beats fast, something bad is happening, "Doesn't matter, what happened to Starfire?"
"This is important Catty, where-"
"What happened to Starfire!" Exasperation is plain in my voice and on my face, my temper is fraying, and adrenaline is running rampant through my overtaxed body.
"She's gone, taken, judging by the struggle."
"I'm at my office but I won't be here for long." My mind races frantically pushing exhaustion and heartache to the side.
"Where are you going?"
"To the mermaid's lagoon."
I remove my hand and the device goes silent. Snatching the note from my desk I hurry out the door, ignoring the musical whir of the communicator vying for my attention again and burst out of the office, checking my watch. 1:44 AM.
In my own little whirlwind I crash down to the elevators, almost not able to bare the relaxing music on the way back down but not enough to take the stairs.
The nearest phone booth lists one bar two blocks away called the Mermaid's Lagoon. Tigerlily's encounter. If memory serves, that night Hook deposited her on Marooner's Rock at the center of Mermaid's Lagoon before Peter Pan rescued her. But who would quiz me on my knowledge of Peter Pan? Why would anyone-
I almost trip as realization hits me. Ashley Chamberlain asked me about JM Barrie at the baseball game. My eyes dart to the note that is crumpled and bleeding from the rain. Meet me at Tigerlily's encounter- JMB At Mrs. Massey's final resting place- SK
JMB, JM Barrie, SK, Stephen King, two of the three authors Ashley asked me about. But why wouldn't he just write a straightforward note?
I had started to walk again but realization is dead-set on beating me black and blue because it hits me again. To make sure that I could come alone.
A neon sign bearing a mermaid holding frothing beers and The Mermaid's Lagoon in bold swirling type hangs outside a crusty building. My throat constricts as I enter the building.
Crackly big band music ripples sporadically from a gaudy jukebox in the corner. A handful of old men litter the bar stools and tables, each intent on drowning his troubles after a long day's work. I make my way over to the bar.
The bartender is a stout matron with at least a pound of makeup on. She puts down a filthy rag and fixes me with a disapproving stare. "ID." She mumbles, sending her extra chins a-jiggling.
"Um, no," I put a quaver into my voice, not wanting her to think I'm threatening, "I was just wondering if you had a bathroom."
"Down that hall and to the left." She grunts. "Don't ask about the bathtub, it's a long story." My heart quickens. A bathtub in Stephen King's novel, The Shining, is Mrs. Massey's final resting place, the place where she dies.
"Your restroom has a bathtub?" I widen my eyes innocently, prying for information.
"Yeah, the bar used to be a house before it was renovated and made over for this dump. Contractors thought it too expensive to remove the bathtub, so they gave the tub the nickname, Mermaid's Lagoon. It stuck." The bartender looks satisfied at my expression and goes back to dirtying the jugs with her grubby rag.
"Thank you." I murmur and cross the bar to the bathroom's entrance. I take a deep breath, steadying my hand on the doorknob and catch a glimpse of my watch. 1:59 AM. Right on time. I turn the knob and let the door swing inwards, following it carefully into the bathroom.
Sure enough, there is a bathtub in the corner next to three grimy stalls, but no sign of any correspondent. The door slams behind me. I don't bother to turn around. "What have you done to Starfire?"
No reply, but a damp cloth covers my mouth, and I gasp in alarm, breathing in the toxic substance. The world explodes into technicolored rainbows and I spiral down the drain past teriyaki chicken, belching contests, Ashley's hand on my knee, and Robin's shoulder, the curve of his neck, his voice, Let's experience that vertigo togeth-
I moan. Agony pounds across my temples, flaring behind my eyes and concentrating at the bridge of my nose sending steady pulses of white hot pain shooting into my brain. I'm not dead but entertaining the notion. I lick my lips, trying to banish the taste of copper from them. I rub a hand across my face, not completely realizing where I am."So, you're awake." A smooth and droning voice leers from a few feet away. I don't even bother opening my eyes.
"Awww," Another groan, "Go to-." I proceed to express my sincere belief in the position the voice's soul would occupy in the afterlife. Progressive considering my cognitives aren't quite up to snuff yet.
I try to open my eyes as the voice moves nearer. "Huh, reading between the lines, I'd say you didn't like me."
"Read between these lines." I flick three fingers in the voice's direction, wiggling the middle one blatantly.
"Hah, look at the Barbie doll with the glass balls." He chuckles good-naturedly.
My brain tells my body I should be angry and a flicker of annoyance crosses my face, but it takes too much effort to sustain it longer than a moment. I embark on a different endeavor: opening my eyes.
My surroundings are mercifully dark, save for a garish skull looming out of the gloom. I back away into the corner of the cage my eyes reveal to me that I'm in, sliding across loose scree, probably ruining my coat. The skull straightens up, revealing the outline of…
"Robin?" My breath catches in my throat, fear sharpening my senses.
The skull twists into a razor smile, glaring down at me, "One may think. You can call me, for simplicity's sake, Red X."
Is it just me, or did the chapter seem awkward? Oh well, I'm handing out heartfelt thanks below ;D
Keystone: No, I would not go near your mind with a ten foot pole heh heh. Yes, soap opera, yes, no, bad Catty, I re-read and winced that whole time, but it had to be done, sigh. O is in astonished female horror bad Keystone! Invoking other girls' names, bad bad!
Owl13: Yes losing to people who don't even know their winning, story of my life. I'm glad I've got a Rob/Star fan, keep me real please!
One Winged Kuja: Yay! Kingdom Hearts! I'm a fan. Uh, being witty, erm, personally I don't consider myself very funny in print, so ask someone like Robin Williams, now there is a witty character.
Geodesic: It always pleases me to know Catty pleases someone else, thank you!
All American: Oh no, If I know you, your favorite part is yet to come.
RobinRox13: Yes, but not a very sharp turn, that is also yet to come.
D-I-WaRria: Sorry if Robin seemed a bit OOC, it just happens. I think he acted realistically, but that's just me.
Grumbumble: Ignore your weirdness? But that's all there is! Hehe jk, um, yeah sure, Robin was just about to serenade Catty, yup that's exactly what was going to happen. Haha, can't you just see it though, -Robin whips out a microphone and waves it threateningly at Cat "Don't make me do it!"-
Elisa-Krane: Ah a nitpicker, I have nightmares about you guys. Sorry about the Beastboy slip-up, it is a constant reminder that, against popular belief, I am human. And nope, Raven is on the trundle and Robin is on the pull-out in the living room next to the kitchen. So yes, in a different room.
Quark: Unusual plotline? I'll take that as a compliment.
Instant Coffee: Sorry! Thanks for still reading.