The night had been fairly calm, for the most part. However, the lesser part of the night had included a mental breakdown in the slums of the city. The past few nights had become a hunt for her father. Those who thought she was crazy, who happened to be everyone as a matter of fact, would say that if she wanted to fix it, she would have to find the source, the reason she was crazy. Though she didn't believe them when they said she was crazy and needed help, the idea of seeing her father again actually made sense. She wouldn't resolve anything with him to get over her instability, she'd rather rip him in half. New York's broken neighborhoods seemed to have multiplied since she last lived in them and she was finding it harder to locate him than she had originally planned.

Since the slums were filled with all that she feared, alcoholics and prostitutes, her schizophrenic panic attack hit hard in the middle of one of the neighborhoods. Suprisingly, she was outnumbered by all the wicked in the world and she fled after wrestling up the area with her crazy talk. It made little impact on the neighborhood, which could be credited to all the crazy over-drugged residents in such areas. Everyone though she was blown beyond her mind and thus did not turn it into a fight. Ahorta was less appreciative of the lack of a fight than she should have been.

Her calming walk brought her to a rare destination, night. Night seemed to beckon the broken from their restless lives and scare the hell out of her. It was the most dangerous part of the day, when she could hardly see anything and thus had weaker defenses. As the sun slowly sank, Ahorta picked up her pace, she needed to get to the Sanctuary before any trouble brewed. She was convinced that the men in white, from the mental hospital were gaining on her and the night sky blanketed any disturbance of the peace. Four blocks away from the Sanctuary, the sun completely disappeared behind the Earth and Ahorta froze under a street light. Her breathing increased along with her heartrate and her eyes darted around the lightpost, checking the area to make sure it was clear. Walking out to the edge of the circumference of light, she gazed out into the night and double checked her surroundings. Walking briskly, she reached the second light and took a small breather, inhaling air through her face mask and running her gloved hands over her tightly pony-tailed hair. She needed to breathe.

The night had been fairly calm, which in principle was a good thing, Andrew (or rather, Citadel]/i]) was feeling annoyed; it was the first time he'd ever done anything like this, he was waering his new 'costume' and had even come to a rougher part of the city and so far nothing had interesting had happened, no attempted murders, or assaults or even thefts, he was beginning to think that New York's criminal reputation was a bit of an exxageration.

Andrew had used the opportunity to practice rooftop travel, he was in fairly good shape so making his way up a fire escape had been no problem. He'd found the only sensible way to do it without falling; a run-up to start and ending with a roll. His first few attempts had been failures, fortunately the drop was long enough for him to use his powers, he had even managed to land on his feet and walk away unscathed. Being a mutant definitely had advantages, though there were a few small craters scattered around the area.

For the first time that night he managed to work getting back on his feet into the roll as he hit the roof. Citadel was glad to have the technique down but dissappointed by the evening's slim pickings. Where were all these people who needed help that Juka had been talking about? Pausing at the edge of the roof he looked down to see a woman standing under the lamp post. At first glance he assumed she was a prostitute, they weren't exactly uncommon in this area at this time of night, but she didn't seem to be dressed for it. Leaning slightly over the ledge and squinting to get a better look he noticed she was wearing a face mask. The weirdness of it didn't strike him, his week had already been too odd, but he couldn't figure out the woman under the lamp post.

"...I wonder what that's about?"

A minor noise sounded from nearby, almost like a hushed tone. While Ahorta found it hard to hear what has said, she could hear the loudest letter, the harsh hiss of the 's'. Her head jerked to the side, scanning the area to find who the intruder was. Her eyes were directly at her own level, she did not venture to look up but she squinted her eyes to narrow slits, attempting to see through the dark. In a common attempt to adjust to the darkness of the night, she opened her eyes wide and waited for the dark objects to settle in their places. With a few blinks and a bit of eye watering, everything fell into a normal space. There was no one following her, no one hiding in the darkness, but humans were not the only things out there that were dangerous.

Slowly, she moved to the edge of the light again and looked to the next light post. With a deep inhale, she ran again, exhaling with every footstep to increase her speed. Her hands flew out in front of her to stop herself from slamming into the light post and she wrapped her arm around it as if it were a beacon of safety, peering out again to see if whatever had made the previous noise was still following her. With a run like that, the predator had to come out of hiding and give away its position. Still, she heard nothing and saw nothing.

Slowing down her breathing, she strained to silence every noise of her body so she could hear better. She could hear the sound of gentle wind picking up small scraps of paper and sliding them across the concrete ground. She could hear a bar nearby, but only those who stepped out to have a cigarette, it was too early to be drunk. Still, she could not hear the intruder and the only noise that greeted her within eyesight range was that of her own heartbeat. "H-he-hello? Is someone out there?" she asked. Though she occassionally stopped to see if anyone was following, there were rare times that she was right, though she doubted anyone was nearby this time, it was probably something fake...or someone who could turn INVISIBLE! Or someone who could silence everything around them, or a dangerous wind mutant! Or the psych ward guards!

The woman's head jerked upwards just after Andrew spoke, she looked all aroundherself, obviously paranoid. There was something wrong, Andrew saw her move slowly to the edge of the light on the ground and suddenly burst into a mad sprint, seeming to nearly slam into the next lamp post. Something seriously was wrong, was she lost? confused? had something happened to her. It was no major crime but Andrew still felt he should help.

>>"H-he-hello? Is someone out there?"

Moving off to the edge of the roof above the adjacent alley Andrew inhaled and focused on his density, then stepped off the edge of the roof. Landing on his feet and bending at the knees, Andrew was oblivious to any noise he may have made as he hit thanks to the effect his powers had on his senses, crushing the concrete into a small crater. Exhaling, he stood up and let his density drop back, yanking his right foot out of the impression it had made in the ground. Andrew, or Citadel as he should be calling himself in the costume, moved cautiously around the corner.

"Hey... you okay?"

There was another slight rustle and Ahorta's eyes yet again pinned in the direction of the noise, but only at eye level. A loud crash suddenly rang in her ears and she strained her eyes to see what had happened. A dark figure, fairly normal sized, was standing in a little crator in the ground. She watched as he pulled his own feet out of the mess of concrete and rubble and moved around some until she had a better view of him. Normally, she would have been frightened, but he was dressed strangely, he was actually in a costume! Ahorta had always been taught through television and comic books that anyone dressed in a costume who could jump off a building and survive, was a superhero!

Standing stunned, she watched in silence, still clinging to her light post of protection. He spoke, asking her if she was alright. It was every superhero's job to make sure the population of the city they were protecting was alright and in good health. Though the crazed mutant often forgot that health could include mental stability, the test she could never pass. His costume seemed a little normal, only a little though and Ahorta was having trouble pinning which superhero he was. "You can't be Superman, and Batman doesn't wear jeans or make holes in cement. Are you the Ghost Rider?" she asked, finally pinning what he sort of looked like. His inital question went ignored when she stuck herself on the idea that he was a superhero. That was much more interesting than her own mental stability.

The woman in front of Andrew paused, clinging to the lamp post. Had Andrew scared her somehow? She seemed about ready to bolt away, but suddenly launched into a line of questioning.

>>"You can't be Superman, and Batman doesn't wear jeans or make holes in cement. Are you the Ghost Rider?"

It caught Andrew off guard, he paused for a moment, glad that it was obvious he was (at least trying to be) a superhero, but the woman's response didn't seem appropriate.

"No, not Ghost Rider. I'm... new to this..."

Andrew had thought about using his new alias but changed his mind last second, he was still dubious about calling himself Citadel... at least it was better than 'Captain Spectacular'. He though for a moment about it, then snapped back to the topic at hand.

"Listen, is anything wrong? Do you need any help? I couldn't help but notice you seemed kindof scared."

Andrew took a couple slow steps towards her, he couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.

He wasn't the Ghost Rider. Drats. All those movies, those super heroes who were always so great, those ones who swooped in at the opportune moment and saved the day. Sure, there were mutants who could be superheroes, but not like the ones from the comics. The ones from the comic weren't real, that was what made them much cooler to Ahorta. Bummer. Then again, if the mutant was the Ghost Rider, he would be real, and thus ruin her love of the Ghost Rider. He must have drawn his costume ideas from the infamous flaming skulled motorcyclist.

He looked a little confused that she had asked and then replied that he was new to 'this'. That stopped Ahorta's mind dead in it's tracks. This? "So what exactly is this? What are you new to?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Unless this was jumping off buildings to make sure a crazed mutant under a light post was OK, she was sure he was deviating from whatever he planned to do by making sure she was alright.

He asked if anything was wrong and asked if he could help. That was nice, though it could be a cloaked villian trying to steal her and implant his worms in her body! "Have you...uh," she leaned forward, a little away from the post enough to whisper softer yet not too soft so he could hear her. "Ever seen the bugs in the dark? The snakes? Clowns? Alcoholics? Everything just as dangerous as the day, but silent, deadly, and unseen," she whispered, her eyes still looking around to make sure he didn't bring any friends.

>>"So what exactly is this? What are you new to?"

Again Andrew found himself caught off guard, the woman he had been concerned for certainly had a knack for it. There was definitely something very odd about the situation. He paused for a moment before answering, awkwardly.

"Umm... the whole superhero... thing..."

He scratched the back of his head, now quite uncomfortable. Andrew had thought of many ways his first night of superheroics could go but this certainly wasn't among them.

>>"Have you...uh, ever seen the bugs in the dark? The snakes? Clowns? Alcoholics? Everything just as dangerous as the day, but silent, deadly, and unseen,"

She had leaned in and was now looking round nervously. The penny dropped for Andrew, she was nuttier than a fruitcake. He smiled slightly and took a step closer, holding his hand out to her.

"No, I haven't. But it's okay, I can keep you safe, get you where you need to go."

He responded that he was new to the whole 'superhero' thing. Ahorta was not quite sure what that meant. There was a superhero movement occurring. Would superheroes be mutants, or since there were so many mutants these days, would they just be considered vigilantes. Super heroes had super powers, but mutants made up for a whole lot more of the population than the old superheroes made up for, so would that make them as super powery, or just normal with some mutations? She had heard about a group of mutants that fought for good, was he part of them? Maybe not, he said he was new to this. Then again, she had no clue what these mutants even looked like.

For a moment, there was a look of realization on his face, but it was replaced quickly with what she recognized was quite the sly face. He did not believe her. No one ever believed her. He put on that face that said he would still help but the look in his eyes was of pure manipulation. He wanted to help, he did not believe her, he said he did not believe her, but he was willing to do anything to help her out. Noble... even if it was a lie. Obviously the kid did not know much about the world out there. "Things can be deceiving, they aren't always as they appear," she said, pulling back.

With wary eyes keeping a look out for where ever someone would be hiding, she walked out of the light. "What is the meaning of crime? Where is the line between good and evil? Is it through nature or nuture? What if someone never learned any different and truly believed they were in the right? There's no way to re-teach a full mind and thus crime will continue, no matter how many police, no matter how many superheroes. Without dark, there is no light, without crime, there is no good in the world. It's the balance," she said, making it to the next light. Sure, he could amuse her for a while, but if anyone attacked, it was every man for himself...or herself.

She began to move out of the light, again, Andrew was going to move forward slowly when he was hit with what appeared to be some schizophrenic philosophy... with some added questions... what was it with this woman and questions. There was certainly no doubting how tenuous her grasp on reality must be. He considered closing the gap as she got to the next lamppost, but it occurred to Andrew that he'd be better off trying something different, he was thinking that conventional logic just wouldn't work in this situation. He took a single step backward, slightly into the shadows.

"Good and evil? Dark and light?... There's no such thing...."

Andrew had put a lot of effort into keeping his tone of voice completely flat. He had no idea if his strategy would have any effect, but he waited, trying to mask his curiosity.

The other one began to react peculiarly. Ahorta was no longer sure what his intentions where and he backed into the darkness, talking about how there were no extremes. No good and no evil. Technically, nothing was completely evil or dark and nothing was completely good or light, but even being slightly dark meant there was a darkness. "Don't be a fool or it will swallow you whole," she said, her eyes widening to a slight smirk and a frightening glare. Who was this man? Who had sent him? Was he really a superhero in training or was that a disguise to get to her? The mental ward knew of her fascination with comic heros and such. It was a trap!

Trying to keep herself from getting caught, she calmed down her breathing and began to slither off her gloves. "Who did you say sent you?" she asked, squinting her eyes through the darkness. She could hear scuttling and skittering noises, the sounds cochroaches make when they run across the ground. Small hisses sounded from the darkness as her paranoia and schizophrenic episode began to close in like the roaches surrounding the light post. His intentions were masked and those were the worst kind. In order to survive, she needed to remain in the light, she could not fight blind, especially not with all the creatures surrounding her. What was it going to be? Fight or flight?

Andrew had no idea how to read the woman in front of him, she was like no other person he'd ever encountered... and that list included two people who could be summarised as 'talking car' and 'floating green ninja' within the past week alone. However his actions had gotten a reaction from her, something different to what he'd seen so far, she seemed to be more attentive, whether that was good or bad Andrew had no idea. For a moment it seemed to him that his initial motive of helping her had been subverted by his morbid curiosity.

>>"Who did you say sent you?"

An obvious opportunity, but what was the best way to jump on it? Normal logic didn't really work in this situation, should he go with the obvious cliche? The Wizard of Oz? A kamikaze watermelon? Or something completely nonsensical. For all Andrew knew to the woman in front of him he looked like a kamikaze watermelon. In the pause he left his mind kept coming back to the obvious cliche, it was better than saying nothing... or perhaps it wasn't...

"I didn't..."

Silence followed her question, was he debating whether to give himself up and tell her who had sent him? Or was he debating attacking her? Or was he truely oblivious to what she was talking about or how to approach a paranoid schizophrenic. However, since Ahorta never realized she was crazy, her thoughts centered around the first two. His answer was just as masked. He simply said he didn't. That could mean a variety of things:

He didn't tell her who sent him. He didn't have someone send him. He didn't know what she was talking about. He didn't tell her anything about himself. He didn't tell her of his kidnapping plans. He didn't want her to find his true intentions. "You didn't what? What are your plans?" she asked, holding back the temptation to end her question with with me. Looking around, she attempted to see through the darkness, but the sounds of scuttering began to make her hands quiver. She held them behind herself to grasp onto the light post so her friend/foe did not see her weakness.

Andrew took a single short step closer, skirting round the edge of the light, for all his lack of understanding this situation had piqued his curiosity, probably because it was so completely removed from normal. He was wondering about her tendency to stay in the light; maybe she was afraid of the dark? But that seemed to mundane.

>>"You didn't what? What are your plans?"

What were his plans? A pretty good question actually. He had planned to try out the role of superhero but so far this evening he had completely failed to find any sort of crime to stop. But Andrew got the feeling that wasn't what the woman in front of him wanted to know, though he seemed to be getting closer to finding the context. There was a certain logic to the situation, he just wasn't familiar with it.

"Well, I'm planning to graduate with a decent grade, then get a job. Something... investigative, hopefully."

He darted around the shadows in an odd fashion. What was he doing? Circling her like prey! She was cornered. If she ran out into the darkness, he would send his army of cockroaches on her and she would die of heartattack if anything. Or they would steal her body and use it for crazy experiments. Her breathing rate increased and she tensed her muscles, the acid beginning to seep through her pores. Since her gloves and shoes had been dipped in a severe base in order to keep them from constantly disolving, they remained in tact, but she could feel the fabric on her shoulders beginning to dissolve along with the part of her pants that clung tightly to her hip bones.

If she continued sweating in fear, she would just sweat all of her clothes off and that could not happen. So was it fight or run? Whatever happened, it needed to happen quickly before she ended up in the nude. He spoke of his plans and Ahorta blinked in confusion. WHAT?!!!!?? She was at a loss of words. His plans were to graduate and get an investigative job? "What kind of villian are you? College? Investigative work?" While she was beginning to calm down, it would take a minute or two for her sweat to stop producing and the acid to stop eating her clothes.