Even homeless shelters were quieter during the day. Practically deserted, which seemed almost absurd. Outside the weather was icy and unforgiving. The Sanctuary, despite its cavernous halls and rooms, was kept warm. Why anyone would want to venture beyond the walls when it was so miserable outside was a mystery.

A flannel shirt, ratty pair of jeans, and a beat-up pair of sneakers walked themselves down the hall. That was the best way to put it, for behind the neckline and sleeves, nothing emerged.

Cassidy still hadn't adjusted to it. They could feel the tickle of hair on the back of their neck (hair that was in desperate need of a cut), they could feel every pinch and twist in their face, and the gnawing hunger in their gut. They could feel the brush of the well-worn flannel against their arm. But they couldn't see any of it.  The specter huffed, amused. To think they'd actually come to miss their freckled skin.

The teen ran a hand through their hair. It'd been almost six months now. With no sign of changing, they assumed that they'd just have to get used to life as it was now-- they were invisible. They had to suck it up.

Cassidy crossed the threshold into the common area, pausing in the entryway. Ah, right where it had been left! A thick winter coat. It wasn't Cassidy's style, really but it'd been draped over the back of a chair for the better part of a half hour now, and no one had come back for it. Tan canvas, kinda ugly, but utilitarian and weatherproof. The invisible teen stepped contemplatively towards where the coat was draped, their steps cautious. It wasn't... stealing... so much as it was... "borrowing"? They had errands to run, and it was too damn cold to go out in just a hoodie. They could put it back afterwards. No one would even know.

The coat was lifted by its collar, drawn nearer to the flannel shirt. A faint sniffing was audible. Oh good, it didn't stink. That was an added bonus.  Cassidy wriggled one arm into the sleeve and then the other. It was big on them. Fashionably over-sized. Sweeeeet. Maybe they wouldn't put it back when they were done with it.

Cassidy rolled their shoulders and drew the hood. Now, they could get going. Following the same path they'd taken into the common room, they strolled back into the hall.

Erik had just come down from one of his changes and was on his way to the cafeteria when he noticed a pair of pants and a flannel shirt moving sememingly of their own accord. He wasn't entirely certain if one of the mind power people were just trying to mess with everyone as a fun jest for the holidays or some sort of animator practicing. He gauged his current hunger level against his curiosity and as he shadowed the spectre silently from a safe distance it was clear which one currently won out. His eyes narrowed some as they scrutinized the floating articles of clothing. It did seem to be moving rather organically so if it was a facsimile of life whomever had created it could be proud of themselves. The alternative being 'it' some sort of invisible person and that was a talent that interested Erik on many levels. Judging from the height it was either a teenager or a shorter woman neither option sat palatably in Erik's eyes. The only thing left to do was watch and see what the spectre was up to.

Whatever it was hadn't seemed to notice him creeping along quietly. He stopped at the entryway to watch and try and clear up his own confusion. It looked like someone in Sanctuary was up to no good again. The jacket was such an obvious plant- wait why was ghosty picking it up.. judging from what he could only imagine was a sniff he firmly decided it was a person who was simply invisible. He wanted to yell at whoever it was to put it back, but that would only be counter productive. With a deep sigh he hid himself around the corner as the rest of the events played out in his mind. Erik's own brain working to try and unravel this mess. He reached into his pocket and fired up his van to get it warmed up while he waited for the person to come back through the threshold and towards the front door.

He carefully tried to clear his throat his throat just loud enough he would make his presence known without scaring the bejesus out of invisoperson. "Ah good that is the one. We will have you borrow that one till we can get you one of your own hmm?" Plastering a friendly smile on his face and hoping ghosty would catch on quick incase someone was listening in out of sight. It would also be a good measure of what he was working with. A smart novice would be preferable to a dumb one, but he could work with either.

Gently and slowly he moved to put a hand to the back of ghost and walked towards the exit as if guiding them with one hand and gesturing with the other like some sort of guide. Hand ready to grasp the jacket and urge the person along more forcefully if needed. "Already got the van getting warm so we can just hop right in and leave." He gave a wave to the woman at the front desk. "Let Frank know we are borrowing his jacket would you?" At least he thought that was the security person's name.. it might be Fred. Mentally shrugging as it had never been something he needed to know before. He was only in a sweatshirt and pants as they left, but he didn't seem extremely uncomfortable like some might. The tension released from his body and he sighed some. "Black van over there get in the passenger side. Best go make good on getting you that jacket so they don't kick you out. Might as well give me your story while I drive too."

Cas rounded the corner, hands wedged deep into the pockets of the coat. Whoever owned it was apparently afraid of wastebaskets, because the pockets were filled with Kleenexes and receipts. The teen would do them a solid and clean the pockets out. As they were preoccupied with pondering their next moves, they all but collided with some smarmy looking brunette guy. Cas only paused because they weren't entirely sure what he was saying.

Who the f*** was this guy? He at least seemed to know who owned the coat, because he was implying that they'd "return it as soon as they got a coat for them".

"Is that an offer?" the teen intoned, their voice hoarse and low. Cassidy let the guy guide them out-- not that they had a choice, because his knobby fingers were curled into their coat-- he released them.

>> "Black van over there get in the passenger side. Best go make good on getting you that jacket so they don't kick you out. Might as well give me your story while I drive too."

Hadn't this dumb*ss ever been to elementary school? Everyone knew that you didn't get in the cargo van with the creepy guy, even if he was promising you candy, a puppy, or a coat. Cassidy wavered, and a sigh could be heard from them.

"I appreciate it," Cas said. And for a moment it looked like they'd just complacently clamber into the van... but that didn't stop. They just kept walking. Get real, dude. They weren't getting in his van, and they sure as f**k weren't going to tell this jack*ss their life story.

Erik sighed as the, what he assumed was a teenager of sort given the lack of smart moves, walked on past his running van. Sure it was a van but when you became large and heavy you needed something to haul your huge butt around despite whatever people may think. His hands got shoved into his pockets and he moved to watch ghost walk away.

"The way I see it three main types of people come to Sanctuary. Runaways, unwanteds and class A f*ckups. Regardless of which one it is your never going to survive as a mutant if you followed all the rules your mommy and daddy made before they kicked you out or you ran away since you turned into a mutant." Erik was playing the odds on that one as it was the vast majority of people who came to Sanctuary. He paused to let that sink in and at least keep the person from walking off.

"Not many places take in mutants and even more so for ones with it right out in the open like yours. So say you keep on walking and I tell the powers that be you stole that jacket. You get kicked out. Lot of sheltered kids don't realise you can fall asleep while your shivering, then as the cold leeches all the heat out of your body you just never wake up. Body doesn't even have a chance to kick into survival mode. Pretty messed up way to die if you ask me. Your other option is to come with me, get a free jacket maybe get yourself a job so you can get some real food and actually live for a change. Up to you shorty." With that he just shrugged and let the cards fall as they would. Erik wondered if he sounded too sincere which in turn made it seem fake.

That guy was still talking, preaching about the kind of people that walked through the doors of the Sanctuary. Perhaps Cas constituted as a runaway, but not by choice. They were an orphan of the Rip. Which, however inconvenient, was probably the best thing that had ever happened-- besides leaving grandma behind. That was the only downside. It wasn't like they did that on purpose.

"Keep talking," they hollered back, without stopping.

And he did just that. As if he needed encouragement. They turned starting at the shoulders, a sort of sarcastic gesture. He was on his soapbox about the challenges of life on the streets. How their life could be so much better, with a free coat, and a job, and money... if they just trusted him, and got in his car. Which... all things considered sounds pretty nice, but Cassidy had a healthy dose is suspicion. Their family was no stranger to crime, after all. The last thing they needed was go get trafficked on this side of the Rip.

"I ain't stealing the f***ing coat, buddy," Cas insisted, "It's like you said, i'm just borrowing it until I get one of my own."

One of the sleeves bent as though Cas had put a hand on their hip.

"And as great as your offer sounds, I'm not getting in your creeper van, man," was the flat addendum to their first statement, the other sleeve pointing accusingly at the idling black van, "Think about it."

They began to walk again. The guy would either have to walk with them or strong-arm them into the car.

The person, correction kid, had to be American. He found American kids had a distinct lack of respect for their elders and everyone let them get away with it because it was 'just a phase.' All he knew is his Uncle would have back handed him, with good reason in Erik's mind, if he talked with all the sass mystery kid was rolling off with body language. A small part of him was impressed how they managed to convey their feelings despite the whole invisible thing.

"Such language." He muttered mostly to himself. His eyes drawn to the van as they pointed at it. "Well how else am i supposed to drive my crew around. Some of them are quite on the large size I will have you know." That same almost monotone voice responded back with no hint of hurt in it.

They started to walk away again, Erik's stomach grumbled more needily. As much as he would like to use his powers of persuasion on inviso-punk baser needs were beginning to nag at the back of his head and demand attention and processing power. A not good situation for anyone involved. So Erik played it cool and sighed dramatically, some of the first emotion he had displayed thus far, pulled the fob out of his pocket and shutdown the van. "Wait up then. Have to make sure amateurs like you don't get caught." The dirty liar that he was. adopting a bit of a fast walk so he wouldn't appear too eager or in too much of a hurry. Longer legs then Cas helped in that regard.

As he closed with arm distance he sighed again. "Your a pain you know that." Cutting off any response by grabbing the jacket with a firm grip and nearly single handedly throwing them over his left shoulder and began walking towards the van. His eyes nearly going cross eyed from the noise and largely ignored the flailing. Turning he almost casually walked back towards the van and with his free hand hit the fob to get it running again. "You know normally I would try and be diplomatic about this, but needs dictate otherwise. I get a bit irritable when I am hungry." He managed to utter out between breaths, looking properly chagrined at the whole affair.

Upon reaching the back of the van he opened it and ducked down enough to make sure he didn't bonk Cas head and flopped them into the passenger seat. Other then the two seats up front, a footlocker behind the passenger side and a bench seat to the rear against the same side it was pretty nondescript. Other then the faint coppery smell of blood mingled with the 'New Car' air freshener tree dangling from the rear view he thought it was pretty uncreepy.

With an almost cordial air about him he buckled Cas in, making sure not to pinch anything even as he was bopped on the head numerous times and turned sideways to avoid a kick in the jewels. "Oi calm down already, you hungry I know a place that makes an amazing breakfast burrito. Big as your head." He shimmied back and watched Cas as he expected an escape attempt.

Cassidy strode down the sidewalk, ignoring whatever protest the guy had. They were done, they were so over whatever the guy had to say. He was probably some sort of pervert. And now the pervert was following them, asking for Cas to wait up. The teen's shoulders were tight, and the sleeves that were previously wedged in the coat pockets were now poised, slightly bent, at their side. Cassidy was squaring-up.

>> "Your a pain you know that."

"No one's asking for you to-- hey!" Cassidy's snide remark was abruptly cut-off by the guy grabbing hold of the coat again, "Get your f***ing hands off of me. Motherf***ing... sh**."

They tried to land a blow on the f***er, but their fist ghosted through his face like a breeze. Whacking him with their arms was about as effectual as beating someone with a cylindrical pillow. Goddamn stupid mutation. Where was a good baseball bat when you needed one? Cassidy struggled and spewed insults. It was freezing out but if they could just wriggle free and take off the coat, then this bastard couldn't lay hands on them.

Cassidy looked frantically around, but fortune favored the humanoid. No one batted an eye at an invisible person being corralled into an unmarked van. Probably thought Cassidy was being detained.

>> "You know normally I would try and be diplomatic about this, but needs dictate otherwise. I get a bit irritable when I am hungry."

"Then go get your f***ing food and leave me the Hell alone," snapped the teen, as they were deposited into the creeper van. As soon as they were set down, Cassidy tried to get back up, only to be pointedly buckled in. No amount of bludgeoning the guy with limbs seemed to work. Maybe he kept a Mag Light in the glovebox.

>> "Oi calm down already, you hungry I know a place that makes an amazing breakfast burrito. Big as your head."

Cassidy's shoulders were drawn. Their stomach yowled, goddamn traitor... There was a pregnant silence as they surveyed the guy. He was young. Older than them, but not, you know, old. Brunette. Brown eyes. He seemed nice. "Seems nice" didn't always mean "actually nice" though. Cassidy was still trying to decide what his deal was. He hadn't chloroformed them, so that was working in his favor. They tested the seatbelt buckle. It came undone when the button was pressed. Which meant it wasn't rigged to hold them in place. Cassidy didn't make a break for it. They just looked at the guy, as if studying him would unearth some deeper truth.

"W-what's your deal?" the teen demanded. It was apparent, through their questioning, that they were yielding, if only just a little bit. They were also trying to sweep the growl from their stomach under the rug, "Why are you trying to feed me and buy me sh**? 'cuz I don't have sh** to give you in return, guy."

They were finally speaking which he found to be a vast improvement over hearing what he guessed was their entire vocabulary of curses. He noted somewhere in the back of his head it lacked variety, but that was a point to dwell on further. Another good step in the right direction was the ghost sitting in co-pilot's seat was quiet long enough to actually look at him. Or so he guessed. Erik was determined not to let the lack of a face throw him. Then the big question came one he had been anticipating sooner really. He turned the driver's chair so he could sit in it and give it some real thought before belting out the first thing that came to mind.

"I suppose it is because I realized people in your situation don't have any support. Even with all the trouble I got into growing up with the crimes and everything I still had my Uncle and cousins to fall back on. Now that I am here in the states with no support group other then the friends I make i realise it can be hard to do even that when your stuck just trying to survive." Not to mention he always felt somehow fulfilled when taking care of people younger than him. Perhaps in another quantum reality he would have been a teacher or something. Reflecting on his words he shrugged and looked to Ghost. "Suppose that is the gist as you Americans say. Also I am not guy, I am Erik Vokov, nice to meet you." A genuine if brief smile broke free from his placid mask and he turned and prepared to drive. Locking the seat in and backing out so they could be on their way.

"If you don't believe me there is a kid who looks like a bat in Sanctuary, not sure if you saw him or not. Dad was beating him so I took care of it and now he can be his own person. Such that it is." Sure it was dangling it out there and it could get him in trouble, but one did not build trust on a sandy foundation.

The teen sat quietly in their seat. They shifted their weight, their clothes rustling as they sat taller. They re-buckled their seatbelt. A careful observer would see their breath fogging up the glass of the passenger side window. They didn't like feeling so transparent, and not in the literal sense. Cassidy had no one. In that way, they were kindred spirits.

"So you like to help people," Cassidy reiterated. Which made them a charity case. Cassidy couldn't help but wonder if there was a catch.

>> "Suppose that is the gist as you Americans say. Also I am not guy, I am Erik Vokov, nice to meet you."

He cracked a smile. He had a nice smile. Cassidy glanced back out the window.

"Cassidy Sokolof," the teen murmured, "Nice to meet you."

They weren't so uncultured that they couldn't deign to answer him. They could at least give him a name. The teen hummed as Erik explained how helpful he'd been to another kid at Sanctuary, how he'd "taken care" of their Dad.

Cassidy folded their arms.

"No way," Cassidy challenged, "So you're like, Robin Hood or some shit."

There wasn't any hostility in their voice. They sounded more bemused than much else. And they were pointedly trying not to talk about themselves.

Erik made a soft amused hmm sound as they pulled out of Sanctuary and made their way to the city proper. "A falcon and a wolf huh? Sounds like a folk tale. You know Russiky?" Perhaps just the faintest of hope in his voice a she bothered to ask. Though he was pretty sure Cassidy was a girl's name if such a thing could apply to someone who effectively was untouchable, if the previous flailing around was any indication. He would have to carefully avoid that potentially sensitive subject until they had time to get more comfortable with one another.

Robin Hood hmm? He paused at a stoplight to think about it. He did have a penchant for stealing from humans and helping out mutants. "If Robin Hood's band of merry men was a couple of mercenary refugees from the other side of the rip and the fact I won't be caught dead wearing tights.. sure.. I guess. Not exactly the most mutant friendly world if you hadn't noticed." Smirking to himself as he drove then glanced over at after a moment Cassidy.

"I won't force you to share, but what about you? Have any dreams and aspirations? A dream job if you will and then something you think you could realistically attain would be a good start. It most likely seems lame to you, but you can learn alot about how a person sees themself by asking something like that aaand it would be helpful." He explained as a way to maintain full disclosure in his own brutally honest way. "And since you hit so light you should think about carrying a knife. Good sharp knife doesn't take much to get to the good bits." Which he felt was a helpful and tactful way of saying they hit like a pillow. Erik just hoped Cassidy wouldn't take it as an insult. People, he noticed, tended to get a tad defensive when you tried to help them with their deficiencies.

"I understand it better than I can speak it," the kid admonished. The sleeve of the jacket bent, propping the elbow up on the window sill, "The aunties and uncles would use Russian to talk around us if they didn't want us listening in."

There was a smile at the edge of Cassidy's tone, an unspoken "I was privy to what adults were saying because they thought I wasn't listening" gloating that only an impish child would delight in. They were bantering, which was gradually opening Cas up more and more. They had mercenaries-- wait, from the other side of the RIP? The propped arm sank slightly. If Erik didn't have their attention before, he certainly had it now.

"Are you from the other side?" Another pause. There was a rustle of fabric as Cassidy shifted their weight and sat a little taller, "I, uh, know what it's like."

>> "I won't force you to share, but what about you? Have any dreams and aspirations? A dream job if you will and then something you think you could realistically attain would be a good start. It most likely seems lame to you, but you can learn alot about how a person sees themself by asking something like that aaand it would be helpful. And since you hit so light you should think about carrying a knife. Good sharp knife doesn't take much to get to the good bits."

A shrug.

"I mean, I'm just trying to get by, right now," was the honest response that followed, "But I'm, er, pretty good at baking. I'd love to be a baker."

It's not like thieving was a lifelong goal. Tagging was something they did for a thrill, they could never do it for work. But baking... Cassidy had loved the cooking class they'd taken freshmen year. Baking for a living would be a dream.

A laugh. It felt so far away, when you were just trying to make it from one day to the next.

"I'd need to steal a knife."

Erik smirked at the childlike enthusiasm at having gotten away with something their family didn't know. "A shame it would be nice to speak Russian to someone. Maybe I could teach you if you are interested?" Shrugging as it wasn't really that big of a deal. He felt like he was helping a fellow Russian so his heart swelled a bit more then it would have.

Looking over when he wasn't busy dodging some of the crazier New York drivers. "Nope I am from this side. Maybe you can get together sometime and talk about all the differences. One of them is sort of a bitch and the other one sort of just does whatever she says. Mostly reliable." Chuckling a bit at the mostly part and reminiscing slightly about his meeting with them which involved nearly killing the one and many death threats. In comparison Cas was being downright easy!

"Most everyone is just trying to get by no matter who you talk to. At least when you hit rock bottom there is only way to go." His face screwed up momentarily "You mean like fancy pastries and cakes? Don';t know anyone in that line of work." Shrugging as they turned down a narrow alleyway. "I would recommend getting your GED then applying to a school for that sort of thing. Do a stint at the bakery section of a big brand store to get some experience." He pulled into a parking area and parked the van. "Or get a job and just buy one." The tone was teasing and he reached behind their seat to the footlocker and dipped a hand into it before tossing a prepaid smartphone on their lap.

"I am under contacts as exclamation-Red. Other then that it is yours. Think that is it for now. You still hungry?"

"I'm not the best student..." Cassidy admonished. It wasn't an outright "no". Not even close to a "no". They were just establishing that teaching them would take a good deal of patience. Even when they gave their best effort, they were always a C-Average student, it seemed. The teen slipped into another quiet spell when Erik confessed that, no, he wasn't really from the other side. They were a little bit disappointed.

They were also quiet as he suggested that they get their GED-- mostly because Cas didn't know what that was. They knew they were too young to get a job, though. So Erik's remark about finding a job earned a half-hearted, but mostly unconvincing, "Haha, yeah..."

Cassidy hadn't been watching when the phone was deposited onto their lap, and the gesture earned some unsuspecting flailing from the teen. Their phone had died ages ago, and it had no service on this side, to boot. They'd been disconnected for a long time.

>> "I am under contacts as exclamation-Red. Other than that it is yours. Think that is it for now. You still hungry?"

Cassidy turned the phone over in their hands, testing the power button with their thumb. The phone powered on. Something in their expression seemed pinched-- which, of course, the guy couldn't see. But Cassidy still cleared their throat, and gave a mumbled, "...a little, yeah."

This was hastily followed by a, "Are you sure this is okay? I mean, like, thank you, but-- are you sure?"

This whole situation still seemed bizarre to the teen. Invisible hands unlocked the phone, found the contacts, and located the !Red that Erik had mentioned. Cassidy hummed, "Red, huh? Why?"

"Something you decide to learn is easier then something your forced to learn." Erik's face tightening somewhat at some flash of memory before he looked over to them. "There are no bad students only bad teachers." Though the long stint of quiet didn't sit well with him. Made only more difficult by the lack of facial expressions he couldn't read. "I am used to being able to read people so I would appreciate it if you were more vocal with your thoughts. It must be difficult to have to rely on nuances of voice alone." He stated honestly. 

Taking a moment to watch the figure silently as they looked over the phone and nodding to himself that they were pleased. "What is there to be sure about? Your welcome." Waving a hand a bit aas he didn't see it as a big thing. "Oh and stick to texting if you can. If you call I am going to assume it is some form of emergency hmm? Don't worry about the time. I will be awake. One of the few perks of my mutation is I don't sleep." They always asked about the Red thing. He wondered if he should make up some lie for a long quiet moment before shrugging. "A girl I like gave me the nickname. I liked it and it stuck."  With that said he opened up the door and left the van to hopefully cut off any further questions about sed girl. After moving around the van and waiting patiently for Cas to clamber out he locked it with his fob and walked towards a nearby elevator and hit the call button. There was a pregnant pause now that he didn't know what to say, small talk not being a strength of his usually. The sound of his own stomach protesting heard over the general din. "Have to buy more protein bars." Speaking mostly to himself as a reminder. "You need anything besides a knife and a jacket?" Finally addressing Cas directly since leaving the van. 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open in a lethargic manner and he quickly stepped inside to punch the button for B2. Hearing the muzak he made a face and muttered something about Americans.  Arms crossed his chest as he waited for the slow descent into the underbelly of the city. It dinged and he uttered a quick "Stick to the left. Pipes are damned hot." And offered little else to explain. Door sliding open to reveal an often unseen portion of any block with a blast of warm air. A string of dirty incandescent lights cast poor light and long shadows as far as one could see until the darkness swallowed them up. Pipes ran along the right side of the wall after an intersection a few feet ahead. It was a myriad of different sounds, burbling, hissing sputtering with no real cadence or reason to the uninitiated. "Stick close, could probably lose you for hours down here."

He walked confidently past the first junction and onto the second and turned left, moving for the door the was quickly coming into view. "Your not allergic to anything are you?" Turning the handle and stepping inside then quickly off to the side so they could see it without his backside getting in the way. Just as abrupt as the transformation of scenery was as they left the elevator it happened all over again. It was the spitting image of a 60's diner, underground. Checkered flooring, retro red seats with white pinstriping, and tables with sparkling chrome edges. Off to the side was a record playing jukebox playing some song Erik himself couldn't place. 

"Whelp this is it. 'Bob's." Shutting the door behind them and walking in. "Bob?! Where the hell are you?!" Looking around a moment he shrugged and walked towards the soda counter. "What do you think Cas? You like retro stuff? I am not particular either way myself, but some damned good food here." If only he could figure out where bob went... with a bit of irritation he hit the bell on the counter a few times.

Erik asked for Cassidy to be more vocal with their thoughts. The teen couldn't help the laugh that rose out of them. Were they being quiet? Perhaps they were! But this wasn't a question they got very often. People had always been telling them to shut up, to speak when spoken to, et cetera. And now they were being asked to speak-up-- albeit because Erik couldn't read them without facial expressions to go-off of. But still. He wanted honesty. After he rambled about phone call etiquette, Cassidy gave him the honesty he requested.

"I'm still trying to figure you out, is all," Cassidy assured the guy, "Trust me. If it turns out we're simpatico, you won't be able to shut me up."

Thinly, Cassidy wondered if "Red" was a sexual thing, since a girl had given him that name. They kept that question to themselves. The van came to a stop. Cas didn't know the area. They unbuckled the seatbelt and popped open the door, sliding off the seat. There was a hesitance in their steps as they followed Erik. They stayed just behind him, and a few steps back.

>> "You need anything besides a knife and a jacket?"

"Food?" the teen reminded him. Honesty, Cas reminded themselves, radical honesty. "This doesn't look like a store." The elevator dinged, doors crawled open.

"If I die in this thing, I'm going to haunt your *ss," the teen cautioned Erik, following him in. This was more of a general observation about the apparent integrity of the elevator. Seemed rickety, like those elevators in horror films that, with one misplaced wiggle, went plummeting down the elevator shaft and killed all the occupants within. Even the music was creepy an distorted. Cassidy hadn't thought it possible to make pop music any less appealing.

>> "Stick to the left. Pipes are damned hot."

The teen stepped closer to their escort, saying nothing. If he bothered to ask about it, they'd dismiss it as trying to avoid the "hot pipes". They were in the underbelly of the city, once the doors opened. That was the only way to put it. Pipes everywhere, barely lit, cloyingly warm. Cas wriggled out of the coat and draped it over one arm.

>> "Stick close, could probably lose you for hours down here."

"Trust me, running off is the last thing on my mind," the specter murmured, "This is some Quiet Knoll-level sh**." At any moment, Obolisk Head would come charging down the hallway with his oversized sword and finish them off, Cas was sure of it.

>> "Your not allergic to anything are you?"

"No."

The response was a little terse. Mostly because the place freaked them the f**k out. After what felt like forever, they turned off of the main path, down another hall. The cool presence of a door arose in front of them. Given the gloom, and Cassidy's nearsightedness, they practically bumped into Erik when he stopped to open the door. Cas heard the mechanism of the door handle clanking into place, its heavy metallic groan as he pushed the door open. A fan of light spilled onto the two of them, and Cassidy tried to blink the room into view, only to find--

A diner. It was a f***ing diner in the f***ing underground of New York City.

>> "Whelp this is it. 'Bob's. Bob?! Where the hell are you?!"

"I've finally gone nuts," Cassidy murmured to themselves, rubbing their cheek in disbelief. What the f*** was a diner doing down here? Cassidy lingered in the doorway, surveying the room as Erik went to the bar and took a seat.

>> "What do you think Cas? You like retro stuff? I am not particular either way myself, but some damned good food here."

"It's..." Cassidy reached for the right word, "...unexpected."

The understatement of a century. They finally, hesitatntly, followed their escort's path to the counter, sliding onto one of the stools.

"The aesthetic is cute," the teen murmured, not wanting to offend "Bob" lest they show-up with the tolling of the bell, "But this is... really f**king weird."