Information

Leather has a minion!

Tough Guy the HLPR Bot

Leather

The

Steamwork Legeica
Owner:

Pureflower

Age: 3 years, 4 months, 4 weeks

Born: November 20th, 2020

Adopted: 3 years, 4 months, 4 weeks ago

Adopted: November 20th, 2020

Statistics

Level: 202
Strength: 263
Defense: 10
Speed: 10
Health: 10
HP: 10/10
Intelligence: 244
Books Read: 229
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Master Key Turner

The Soft-Hearted Biker

Introduction

Most people kept a respectful distance. With his huge muscles, deep tan and custom leather jackets, he wasn't the sort of man likely to take insults lightly.

Few people got the chance to see his marshmallow center. His cooking skills were divine, his baked goods sinful. He cried when anyone died at the end of a movie, human or animal. He couldn't ride by an unclaimed kitten or abandoned pup and his carpets had the stains to prove it.

On set, he was Red, the stellar stuntman who would try moves even that made even the directors nervous. At the club he was Butch, the formidable bruiser who looked out for that scrappy dancer Blaze. When he rode with the Clutch Cobras, his buddies addressed him as Viper.

Only his wife flat-out called him Leather. Tough and unyielding, yet supple and refined. He was her rock and source of comfort as surely as she was the one who allowed him to truly be himself.

The Stuntman

He smiled when flames licked up the "glass" window he was supposed to ride through. The actor playing the main character stood at a respectful distance, waiting for his cue to mount the bike again and remove his helmet with a flourish.

Tom Tiernan was a wonderful actor but a terrible stuntman. He was absolutely terrified of fire. Even a lit match made him sweat.

Red barely noticed the heat or the shards of prop glass falling like rain as he crashed through the thin barrier between him and his next paycheck.

He supposed the Desert Daredevil movies couldn't be too bad if they were on the fifth one. Despite doing stunts for the series, he'd never watched one. He hated to see himself on film.

He was always trying to convince the producers to go bigger and bolder. He could handle the tough stuff.

Ladislaus Villanoche had taken him up on a few of his ideas...and graciously paid the resulting medical bills when things went south. Beatrice had been furious in public...and insanely proud when she got him home. Six weeks of bed rest with her hovering just out of his reach had nearly driven him mad.

Tom's hair whipped in the breeze created by an industrial fan as he flashed a flawless smile at the camera.

Red was grateful for the excuse of a lunch date with his wife. If he had to hear about Tom's Oscar nomination one more time there would be a headline in the gossip magazines about the beloved actor's unexpected flight through a plate glass window.

It wouldn't be prop glass, either.

The Animal Lover

Between shoots, he was quite content in his role as stay-at-home husband.

His humble home was no mansion but it was shocking how much dust and loose fur a house with five dogs and seven cats could acquire.

Tiger had been the only contribution Beatrice made. The other eleven were his fur children. Despite his constant declarations that he would find them all proper homes, their sad eyes and pitiful whines whenever the topic came up always kept him from picking up the phone.

He despised the thought of animal shelters. How could anyone just leave a defenseless animal to take that dreadful walk to the end of the hall? (He may have seen Lady and the Tramp a few too many times as a child.)

Gherkin had been his first rescue. The moody black tom was mostly blind and had selective hearing that kicked in only when the words "food" or "treat" were spoken.

Coffee was a retired bloodhound whose nose could no longer serve the police. He still delighted in barking at every car that came within a half-mile of the house.

Betsy, Dizzy, Mitzy, Sassy and Topsy were kittens from the same litter. Their mother, an enormous queen named Tumbleweed, had passed away only recently. Though well into their prime, all five still considered themselves the kittens of the family and were forever scheming ways to get attention.

Cocoa, Patch and Hammy were pups he'd found half-submerged in a drainage pipe. Red was pretty sure they had Rottweiler blood with a sprinkling of hound and terrier. They sure weren't showing any signs of slowing their growth spurt.

Bonkers was the kitten who'd brought Beatrice into his life. The tiny terror had been living on the contents of wrappers discarded by motorists at a roadside stop. His antics made the couple laugh every day.

Twelve hopeful pairs of eyes locked in on him when he moved through the mudroom.

Breakfast time.

The Devoted Husband

He tried to make every day of his wife's life a fairy tale.

He never tired of whipping up her favorite chocolate cherry cupcakes. He could listen to her go on about fashion for hours, just to hear the sound of her voice. She'd playfully swat his arm and accuse him of zoning out. He'd plead guilty, earning outraged laughter when he swooped in for a kiss.

She seemed to own a lacy something in every color of the rainbow.

He would literally walk through fire for her sake.

The Past

He'd been drawn to motorcycles long before he was old enough to ride.

Each year, he'd paper the walls of his room with magazine clippings of the latest models, circling the ones he most desired with red marker.

He'd worked for an auto shop through high school, saving up until he could trade in the beat-up compact car his parents had given him for a gorgeous red monster with white leather seats.

His first gig as a stuntman came quite accidentally but he was good - so good that an invitation from Hollywood was extended.

He never lacked for work but grew terribly bored of doing the same exhausted stunts over and over. He took to the road, not quite sure what he was seeking but convinced he'd eventually find it.

He fell in with the Clutch Cobras in Nevada. They were a far cry from your average gang. They were seemingly bad boys out to do good. They volunteered in the towns they rode through, asking only for a tank of gas to see them to the next town in need.

They named him Viper and gave him a custom jacket with their logo after a couple of years.

He might have continued to tour the country with the boys for decades if not for Gherkin. The guys thought he was crazy to settle down and buy a house for the sake of a cat but they promised to stop in and visit whenever they passed through.

There were plenty of movies being filmed in the desert...and plenty of animals in need of a loving home.

He hadn't been looking for a rescue or his soul mate the day he found Bonkers. It was a nice day and he simply felt like getting out on the bike.

Beatrice had witnessed the slashing of his fingertips by the half-wild kitten. The little traitor proved cool as a cucumber when teased out with the jingly ball she'd bought for her own cat.

Asking her to marry him had been the biggest stunt of his life...one that scared him more than the prospect of death.

He still couldn't quite believe he'd pulled it off.

The Shadow

Calamity worked alone. She'd made that clear from the start.

That didn't mean she couldn't have backup waiting in the wings.

The Organization had been wary about bringing in a civilian but he could assess a situation at a glance and nothing short of death would prevent him from protecting his wife. They wouldn't give him a code name since he didn't have a license to kill...but they had given him a really cool bike.

It moved with the gentle rumble of a panther on the prowl. The helmet that came with had a night vision filter so he could run without headlights.

He would see to it Calamity never met with a situation that made her name more than just a code.