Hello Grandmother,

So the Marksman, who saved my ass yesterday, is in fact not imaginary. I had to blink a few times just to believe there is another human being in all of this craziness. Course, he may not be exactly human. He does, instead, claim to be the last superhero alive in this world. According to him, all the other superheroes were written out of continuity. This certainly doesn’t jibe with any view of the world I know, but who am I to call someone crazy? I can’t speak ill of any who offers me a couch to sleep on and saves me from vampire assassins.

What all this means is that I’ve got a place to stay for a while. I’m not one who likes to mooch on hospitality, but I need a place for a little bit, and the Marksman seems naturally inclined towards helpfulness. Not quite sure what kind of superhero has the special power of being really good with a shotgun, but hey, he gets the job done.

I need to start figuring out what the fallout from all of this is, start making my way back into the shadows, but for now I think I can let my arm heel and live a little. Marksman’s got some pretty good defenses set up here, and I can finally start thinking about the future again.

-1159

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