The Big Apple was in its early evening hours, the sunset casting a low, pink light over the city. It was of the hour when the last few business people were returning home from work, when families were returning home for dinner, and eight-year-olds weren't typically on the streets. The withdrawal of these typical daytime crowds gave way to entirely different, nighttime crowds, and these crowds weren't those that Chase wanted to be amongst.

Chase had been recently lurking in the malls about the city until just before closing, before walking to the same park and laying his head down in the same play structure each night. It had been a foolproof plan, and he'd been crashing there for weeks now. Perhaps it was his pre-adolescent mentality, that sleeping on a playground was somehow safer than the streets-- it was a childs' place, therefore untouchable by the scary grown-ups that walked the streets. And, the bark always seemed warmer than the night air that was about him. Chase believed this, up until the night that a wayward drunk tripped over him and chased hiim out of the park. After that incident, he decided that it was time to relocate.

Thus, in the weakening light of the setting sun, Chase perused the streets for a decent place to rest. Though storefronts were a popular place to rest for the adult homeless, Chase avoided them. They were still too exposed, and he was afraid of the adults from the experience the night prior. He shied from the alleyways at first, too, for they were dark and scary. However, if they were so dark and scary, wouldn't the adults avoid them, too? So, logically, the best place to sleep would be the alleys. Chase passed yet another storefront, peering down the darkened alley that followed at the building's edge. This one was a tad cleaner than the others, feeding into a network of alleys and not too cluttered by trash, from this vantage point. They were narrow enough that a car couldn't comfortably get through, so there wasn't much risk in getting runover. Chase dug into his backpack, pulling out his flashlight and wedging his sunglasses in. It wasn't so dark that he needed the flashlight, yet, but he would soon-- and it was far too dark for sunglasses.

As he crossed into the shadows, he kept his hood drawn and his beanie wedged onto his head, for it was far too nippy to shed either, and at any moment, he'd revert from his human facade to his natural form. Chase walked quietly into the shadows, his sneakers padding on the pavement in near-silence. As he ventured deeper into the alley, it grew darker, cooler and quieter. He liked it. As he walked, he let his gaze trail to various alcoves and niches, lest there was any traffic. He wanted to crash some place of relative cleanliness-- no glass, no bugs, and no cuddling up to trash cans. Sure, runaways couldn't be too picky, but by God, if Chase woke up with a cockroach on his hand, he'd feel no shame in shrieking like a little girl.

So distracted was he with finding a decent place to sleep, he didn't realize how deep into the alley he was venturing, how far off of the street he'd come. Up ahead, there was a noise that seemed out-of-place, as if a bottle were skittering over the pavement, or something had been stirred beneath a footfall. Hyper-alert, the eight-year-old froze-- was it thugs? Gang-bangers?

Whatever it was, one thing was certain-- Chase was not alone in the alleyway. Chase stood there, eyes straining against the half-light, as he sank down into a crouch and waited for whoever or whatever it was to cross into his line of vision. His eyes swam with an anxious yellow, and perhaps some brown, too, as he waited. The intruder would leave, and then Chase would be free to scout out a place to camp for that night once again.

Aurion never really had too much trouble finding food while living on the streets, sure he might go a few days or a week without eating much of anything, but eventually he always got something. He survived. For years he thought that surviving was living. It wasn't glamorous but it was life. But after being at Sanctuary for just a few weeks, he realized how empty his life had been. Surviving isn't living. After the first week he felt stronger, healthier. He was beginning to come to terms with who and what he really was. Though he didn't interact with them, he had observed many different mutants. Some looked human, others, didn't. Not many were as inhuman as he was.

He now felt something he hadn't felt before; Comfortable and confident about himself, enough so that he didn't worry about going out during the day. And by day, that means just before the sun goes down or just after it comes up. His impressions about the mutant community, was that they stuck together, helped one another. They didn't treat each other like pariahs, even if they look completely different.

Now that Aurion had a safe place to go home to, to call home, he had become a bit more daring. What he was doing wouldn't really work well if humans thought to look in three dimensions. They never really look above them. There was no doubt in his mind he was a predator and what could he stalk that would give him some fun and sport? Humans. Humans are, by far, the biggest predator in the world.

Aurion had taken to following a few of the more 'dangerous' humans he found. Maybe it's a predator's ability to notice another predator, or maybe it's something he picked up while living in the dark places of NYC, but either way, it wasn't hard for him to pick out who preyed on other people. Having picked them out, he followed a few of them and figured out their nightly patterns.

Tonight he was following a particularly despicable man. Aurion had noticed him only because of his eyes, at how he looked at those around him. Assessing them, filing them away, evaluating their worth, as if he owned them. He really did seem to believe he owned everyone his eyes looked upon. The way he moved to snatch a young woman walking alone was almost admirable in it's fluid, simplistic effectiveness. Aurion saw what happened to the young woman, heard what was going to happen to her, and watched as her freedom, who she was, was taken from her as she was hauled somewhere far away.

That was just the first of many, and they weren't all near adult-hood. Even if Aurion had no love for humans at all, what he saw happen to the little four or five year old girl, would have turned his stomach inside out. If the man worked alone, he could have stopped him, but he didn't. There were more of them than he could deal with. And, they had shotguns, which really suck.

Tonight though, Aurion seemed to have gotten lucky. The man was alone, and hadn't found a victim yet. Best yet, he was walking down an alleyway, Aurion's favorite ambush spot.

It had taken a bit of work, but learning how to stay above the ground while crossing streets was handy, jumping from building to street lamp or electric pole to the next building became relatively easy. That was what Aurion was doing when he noticed a child walking down the alleyway ahead. Aurion moved quickly across the street and moved as silently as he could along the side of the building. By the time he go close enough the man had spotted the kid and his pace increased as he began to pull something from behind his back.

Aurion jumped from the wall to the ground, twisted as he landed and wrapped his tail around the man's head and neck. Lifting him from the ground Aurion brought his tail back then forward sharply. A resounding snap echoed down the alleyway as the man flew through the air limply before landing many feet behind the child.

Aurion's voice came out deep and sharp, "Not safe." He hopped onto the building next to him, halfway between the first and second floors. "Go home." If Aurion has the choice, he'd rather be on a wall than the ground. He move another foot up the wall before he stopped to stare at the child, watching to make sure he left.

The acoustics of the alleyway proved disorienting-- the noises that Chase had previously believed to e before him were actually behind him, and he didn't come to realize this until the lizard-man dropped to the ground. The lizard-man's immense form blocked out the light that filtered in off of the street, snagging Chase's attention. He whirled around not a moment too soon, the moment that the action had ended. Chase watched mutely as the lizard-man released the human from his tail, and quickly returned to his perch on the wall.

Chase's curiosity got the better of him as he hesitantly and quietly approached the man, who was awkwardly crumpled on the floor. As he drew closer, he could see that there was something about him that wasn't quite right. Chase didn't register that he was dead, so much as he noticed that his head was bent awkwardly and his expression was kind of funny. What made him step back was the knife that had fallen from his hands and now lay, abandoned on the ground. Certain that the blade had been meant for him, an expression of distaste touched his features as Chase absently touched his face. He hated his knifes.

>> "Not safe. Go home."

The grunted instruction redirected the child's attention from the felled man to the lizard-man who, in Chase's inattention, scuttled a few feet further up on the wall. The pink light of the sunset cast a weak outline of his warped form, highlighting his tail, claws, teeth, but not accentuating his colors or finer details. Chase didn't recoil in fear or revulsion, but cocked his head so that he was looking at him straight-on. Chase hadn't any cause to fear him, he'd just spared him from being attacked with a knife. All that the lizard-man received from Chase was a quizzical look and a very subdued smile. His eyes churned in a confused yet curious meld of colors.

"I can't," came the matter-of-fact reply-- his tone was that of a child answering an addition problem, and no more emotional than that, "I haven't got one." Why else would an eight-year-old be in the alleyway? For the thrill? Not hardly. Chase was just scouting out a place to sleep. Then, he was going to get some food and crash for the night.

Chase dropped his gaze, his eyes roving the alley. This one was out of the question now, though-- it was occupied by a dead man and a lizard-man who didn't want him to be there. He'd have to find another alleyway, and would prefer to do it before the sun had completely set. He let his gaze flick towards the lizard-man again. Chase had so many questions-- but, there were more important matters at-hand.

To quell the concerns of the lizard-man, if there were any to be had, Chase drew his plastic flashlight and brandished it bravely, as if he intended to fend off potential attacker with it. And, with that same, small smile, he declared, "I will be more careful, promise."

That being said, Chase began to walk off again. He didn't redouble and leave the way he came, but instead continued down the alleyway in the direction that he'd been heading. Sure, he was going to scout out a different alley, but didn't see the use in doubling-back and then circling the building, just to get to where he was going with four-times the effort. He didn't see a point in wearing himself out in such a way, particularly on an empty stomach.

As an after-thought, he glanced back at the lizard-man. He didn't want to seem ungrateful, particularly after he'd gone through all that effort just to save an eight-year-old. He raised his hand, rose his voice just loud enough to be heard, and said, "Thank you, Mr. Lizard-Man!"

With embarrassment, he realized that he'd said the lizard man's codename aloud, and left the farewell at that. A more outgoing child might have asked him to accompany them-- because, let's face it, nobody would cross a creature like that, particularly with teeth like that. This idea struck him, and seemed like a good one, but it was far beyond Chase's realm of comfort, thus he held his tongue and kept walking.

How old was the kid? Seven? Eight? There was no way he was over 10, but yet, there he was standing in an alley with a corpse and a monster and he doesn't even flinch. What had he seen in his short life already that he was so desensitized? Aurion had no idea, but the way the kid looked at him made him feel a bit odd. He almost wanted to turn his head and take his eyes off the boy's, but he wouldn't. Not even if his eyes seemed to be going through a rainbow impersonation.

His mind was swimming with thoughts, mostly about the kid's unusual eyes, so much so that he almost missed his response. Granted Aurion hadn't actually expected a response. His words were more of an order, not a question or a suggestion. Aurion tried to imagine why a child like this boy would be homeless. None of the things he thought of were very pleasant.

The kid might have trouble seeing Aurion, but he had no trouble seeing the kid. So when the kid pulled out the flashlight like some sort of weapon, he couldn't help but let out a short-lived snort of a laugh. The kid smiled as he did spoke, as if it was some joke. It might have been at that point Aurion was sure the boy hadn't been on the street for too long. Or if he had, it must be his young, child-minded outlook that must keep him in 'good' spirits.

He kept watching the boy as he started walking again. Biting his lower lip lightly, not that he could pierce it accidentally, he wasn't sure what to do. Aurion really didn't mind saving the kid, or any child really, but he didn't really need to worry anymore. If the human died, he died, if he lived, well, maybe he'd turn out good.

Right?

"Thank you, Mr. Lizard-man!"

Aurion sighed, shook his head and rolled his eyes. 'Dammit.' He thought to himself, 'He's still just a damned kid.' He could at least watch to make sure he got to a safe place for the night. But first...

~~~~~~

Aurion jumped from the top of the building across the street to the wall of the one next to it, then lower on the wall of the first building and so on until he was just a bit higher on the wall than the boy was tall. It hadn't taken him too long to recover the corpse and stash it on a rooftop for later. If too much time passed, he wouldn't be able to use the ma..corpse for anything, his former crew would move in a couple days if he didn't show.

"Why no home?" He asked in his deep voice. Though he tried to keep it quiet, he had enough trouble being understood and talking in a normal voice, so it probably didn't work too well. He kept the boy in his peripheral vision while looking all around them both. After a few steps he dropped to the ground and walked next to the kid, at first just on his legs, but then on all four, his fingers curled to walk on his knuckles.

Chase hastily made his way out of the first alleyway, picking his way over the uneven pavement carefully as he went. It was getting darker, and therefore harder to see, and Lizard Man had withdrawn to God-knew-where, thus Chase was trying to be "more careful". He paused at the opening where the alleyway spilled onto the public street, which was occupied by lazy and sporadic traffic. There was another alley directly ahead, just across said street. Chase took this time to look towards the sky, and saw that the sun was just barely visible over the tops of the buildings. Darkness was nearly upon them, and a shudder went down Chase's spine-- not out of fear, but out of anticipation-- any second now, his form was going to revert.

With that thought in-mind, Chase darted across the street, into the coolness of the next alleyway. The flashlight that he wielded in his hand was flicked on, a weak and inconsistent yellow beam of light pointed towards the ground. Chase continued on quietly, trying to remain unintimdated by the darkness. It was only after a few strides that somebody joined him, clambering down the wall like a spider. It didn't take much guess work to figure out who-- Lizard Man was right above Chase's head.

"Hello, again," Chase greeted quietly.

>> "Why no home?" was the gutteral inquiry that Lizard Man made. There was another shudder down Chase's spine, once again because of the oncoming shift. Though nature begged him to hold his human facade up, he figured that, if anything, the Lizard Man would be the best person to revert in front of. Chase contemplated how to say it, brushing back his hood as the Lizard Man walked on its hind legs, then sank to all four of them, beside him. He obviously wasn't going anywhere.

Chase sighed, began to explain his situation hesitantly, "My parents were very mean towards me, didn't treat me the way parents are supposed to--" neglected and abused, were the terms preferred by the social workers, "--So, I got taken out of my home, and put into another. And another, and another-- but, none of these homes wanted a mutant boy, either, so I left." Chase frowned. He'd been a well-behaved child, kept to himself, but the other foster kids were just, afraid of him. That was probably a scenario that a lizard-man could sympathize with, "Now, I'm here."

He stopped as yet another shudder coursed down his spine, removed his backpack and he unzipped his hoodie, shed it, and tied it around his waist. Long-sleeves tended to feel constrictive when Chase was changing forms. He turned his gaze to the Lizard Man, certain that this whole shedding of the coat was probably as cryptic as could be, and simply said, "Wanna see something cool? Watch."

For Chase, reverting was as easy as a sigh. He closed his eyes, envisioning himself on his own-- he'd never shifted in front of an audience, never for the express purpose of doing so, so he felt indescribably antsy about it. He felt like his heart was going to leap into his throat and take off down the alleyway.

As always, the shift began with his skin-- the human flesh began to slide in various directions, growing into definitive tendrils as it moved and torqued into its natural, pale ochre shade. His hair followed, rustling on its own accord and adopting its dichromatic quality. It was like flexing and then relaxing a muscle, except that the muscle was his entirety. Once he felt the shift was fully complete, he opened his eyes, which were set against a black sclera, and currently flickering an uncertain yellow-orange within his typical turquoise. He tried to read Lizard Man's expression, but it was difficult with a face like his, and in the poor lighting.

"I'm a shapeshifter," Chase clarified. His face felt hot, as if he were blushing, but Chase knew he couldn't blush when he was waltzing about in his natural skin, "My parents were anti-mutants. It complicated things." And, as if changing your appearance were the most natural thing in the world, Chase hummed absently, put his hoodie back on, drew his hood, and slid back into his backpack. He passed his flashlight back into his hand, and continued walking slowly.

Aurion hadn't expected a long story, and it really wasn't that long, but still. He had expected a quick, short answer. He wasn't sure why he did, people that could talk well always seemed to talk a lot, but not say much. An almost silent sigh escaped him as he was about to say something, but it stopped when he heard a word he hadn't expected. Mutant.

'This kid isn't even 10...Is it normal for it to happen really young?' Somehow Aurion doubted it was the norm, but really he was still new at all of this. He took another look at the boy. He looked healthy, if haggard, seemed smart enough. "Okay. Why here city? Why here?" He gestured to the alley they were in and the one they had come from. He couldn't have been in the city for long Aurion guessed, and he had a flashlight to boot. Aurion remembered trying to use one when he first lived on the streets. Dismissing the fact his hands and fingers made holding and using one difficult, it hindered him, gave him away, and generally gave him more trouble than it was worth, especially when it ran out of batteries.

It took a few moments for Aurion to realize the boy had stopped and he had moved a few feet further ahead. He watched the jacket come off and he raised an eyebrow, not that it could be seen, at the sight. After looking around for a moment he opened his mouth wide and drew in a deep, slow breath. Letting the air out, he did the same breath through his nostrils. While he couldn't really feel heat or cold well through his scales, the air felt, tasted, and smelled cool to him, which is why he was a bit confused at the kid's action. All he could do is nod in response to boy's question.

When the change started to come over the boy, Aurion pulled his head back and straightened his shoulders, his eyes slightly wide. After the momentary surprise he could see...wires? coils? THINGS all over the boy. Things that made Aurion think of a bed of a thousand tiny snakes or a bucket of worms moving. Just seeing it made Aurion's flesh crawl. He could almost feel his own skin moving under his scales and he had a hundred small itches all over his body. A shudder ran through him from head to tail, which caused his fin to slap against the ground rapidly for just a moment, like a fish out of water.

He leaned in close to the kid to get a good look at the...whatever made up his body. As he was doing so though, the boy's eyes opened up again, so he drew back and away. Aurion looked at him askance as he locked eyes with him. His eyes were a strange yellow against black. 'So I hadn't imagined that.' He thought to himself. He had thought it a trick of the light when he saw the boy's eyes change colors earlier.

Aurion listed as the boy explained what he was. Even though Shiffy said it, he still had no idea what it really meant. Could he turn into a trashcan? A car? A dog, cat, bird, other people, a square? 'Could he turn into me?' Aurion couldn't help but stumble slightly, too slightly to be noticed by anyone but himself, as he chest suddenly tightened at the thought.

"Shiffy's parents live? Why? Should dead." He said in a matter of fact tone as he moved his tail in front of Shiffy. He put the fin flat against the end of the flashlight, blotting out the light, except for the slight glow through his fin. "Light, bad. Make you weak, easy see. Find easy."

A sick feeling simmered in Chase's stomach, and he let out a faint, chuckling sigh. Even Lizard Man seemed apprehensive about Chase, now-- perhaps showing-off like that had been a bad idea? He kept his gaze downcast, carefully picking his way over the pavement. It donned on Chase that Lizard Man had asked about why the City, of all places. Chase hadn't quite figured that out yet, either-- at first, he had been looking for Uncle Jack and hoped to live with him, but hadn't realized that the city was so immense, nor did he know where Uncle Jack lived. Now, he was just here because anywhere was better than Syracuse.

"The best place to hide is in a crowd," Chase mumbled, "So long as I look like everyone else, anyways," he added on, with a note of humor. Or else, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

>> "Shiffy's parents live? Why? Should dead."

Chase was taken aback by the conviction in Lizard Man's tone. They should die for how they had treated him? Once in a great while, Chase had entertained the same thoughts, when he was still in the Townsend household... But, in Chase's naive mind, dying was going away and never coming back. He didn't think of dying as ceasing to live. Did they truly deserve not to live, for all that they'd done?

"They don't deserve to die," Chase heard himself saying, his tone adopting a tired air, "Sure, they were bad, and mean, but I couldn't blame them. They were just scared."

Even Lizard Man was apprehensive about Chase after he shifted, and they were total strangers! Imagine the revulsion if they'd been related, and if he had been human? He would have taken off screaming into the impending night. As Chase entertained this thought, Lizard Man maneuvered his tail around and, *pop*, cupped the broad tip of it over the flashlight. Chase came to an abrupt halt.

>> "Light, bad. Make you weak, easy see. Find easy."

"I can't see in the dark," Chase informed Lizard Man. Even now, his visibility was poor, and the sun had yet to set. He could only imagine how blind he'd be once the sun was actually down, "How will I see without a light?" He might have been a runaway, but there was something about walking around blindly in a dark, unfamiliar alleyway that simply didn't sit right with him. He was actually a tad frightened of the dark, but like any eight-year-old, wouldn't dare admit such a babyish paranoia.

Aurion chuckled, "You no hide, you light in dark. Easy see." He looked around them both, "If no hide, Above," He pointed up to the rooftops then to the ground, "Below. Hard find. Young. Small. Thumb." If the kid could become anything he wanted, he should become someone older at least, then he wouldn't look so out of place, especially in alleyways.

He was pretty sure the kid was innocent and naive. Or maybe Aurion was just a little...crazy. No matter what though, Aurion knew his parents weren't going to be in the position to do anything to him ever again. Neither would anyone else that had hurt him. "Don't deserve death?" He looked at the boy from the corner of his eyes. "You taken. Then run'way. They deserve. Scared not excuse."

After a long pause he pointed to Shiffy and himself, "Parents same-ish. Treat me bad. White room years. Sick. Freak. Mutant." Aurion lifted his arm and pointed to a short 'scar' of light and dented scales. "People pay hurt me. Fun, sport. Mutant hating." He let out something between a purr and a growl, "Can't hurt now. Ever, never hurt again. No breath." Looking at Shiffy Aurion smiled. "Scared too. No excuse. Deserve death, got it."

Aurion laughed lightly at the child and his fear of the dark. That's really what it is, no matter what anyone says, they're all afraid of the dark. That's why there are so many lights everywhere. Especially in the city, there's so many lights it pollutes the sky for miles around. You have to go something like 30miles or some other sad number to even escape the light pollution from a city. Especially one like New York City.

He gingerly grabbed the flashlight between two claws and turned it off, after a bit of fumbling with it at least. "City never dark. Eyes use to it." With that he put his large hand in front of Shiffy's face, trying to cover his eyes, telling him to close his eyes. "If live streets, light bad. Ears good. Surroundings, know them. Pay attention." Aurion picked up a small pebble with his tail and threw it somewhere down the alley. "Batteries die, then what? Steal? Break in?" He shook the flashlight and made the batteries rattle. "Keep emergency only. Find red light. Red good, white bad. Red see, white blind."

And, of all things, Lizard Man laughed at him. Chase frowned, failing to see the humor in what he said—he took everything to heart and, by the sound of it, Lizard Man was insinuating that Chase wasn’t very good at hiding. At least, that sounded like what he was saying at first. The eight-year-old was finding it difficult to put a connotation into what Lizard Man was saying, largely because of his broken speech. The second part was essentially lost on the child, except for the words above, below, and thumb.

>> “Don’t deserved death?” the Lizard Man echoed. Chase’s once-again turquoise gaze cut back towards him, arching his eyebrow, “You taken. Then run’way. They deserve. Scared not excuse.”

Just as Lizard Man seemed wholly convinced in his ways of killing people to solve his problems, so Chase had been brainwashed to believe that he had deserved every ounce of mistreatment that he’d received. That, in some form or fashion, how his parents had acted towards him was because of something he’d done. It was what they’d been telling him for years, so eventually, Chase believed them. And, when he didn’t, they just punished him more. Chase felt his face growing hot again, but was shaken from his thoughts when Lizard Man pointed at him with one of his knobby, taloned fingers.

>> “Parents, same-ish. Treat me bad. White room years. Sick. Freak. Mutant.”

Lizard Man lifted up his arm, to show off a gash of light, dented scales. Chase drew closer for a better look, and instinctively touched his jawbone. They both had their own battle scars. That had to make them some sort of members to an exclusive club-- Human Hate Has Left Its Mark on Me Club, or something like that.

>> “People pay hurt me. Fun, sport. Mutant hating.”

The low growl made Chase back up once again, his eyes flicking away from the scar.

>> “Can’t hurt now. Ever, never hurt again. No breath. Scared too. No excuse. Deserve death, got it.”

“Got it,” Chase echoed unconvincingly. In all that time that Lizard Man had been in the white room, tortured for sport, not a single soul had felt bad and tried to free him? Nobody at all? I would have, he thought righteously. Lizard Man’s whole recollection had wrapped Chase in silence. His parents were doctors, they could have done the very same thing to him… It almost made a boy glad to have parents that were too ashamed of him to make his mutation public, to try to cure it, or capitalize upon it by letting people beat him up because of it. While Chase surrendered to his thoughts, Lizard Man gave another rumbling laugh and plucked the flashlight out of his hands.

“Hey!” Chase protested, grabbing after it without avail. trying to snatch something from a seven-foot-tall creature’s grasp, from a four-foot-tall stance, was an impossible feat. Chase leapt and tried to grab for it, but Lizard Man was simply too tall. The light was flicked off, and the two of them were plunged into almost-darkness. Chase ceased jumping, and peevishly put his hands up on his hips.

>> “City never dark. Eyes use to it.”

Chase let his gaze wander back down the alley, to see if his eyes were used to the weak lighting yet, and they weren’t. The parks had always been well-lit, and Chase had never voluntarily ventured into the dark areas. Chase was still attempting to look around when Lizard Man drew closer and, with one enormous hand, covered Chase’s face. They weren’t touching quite yet, but the proximity was unnerving—if Lizard Man had actually clasped a hand over his eyes without warning, what if Chase had begun shifting? The tendrils that composed his skin tensed in anticipation, but not so much that it made a sound—that way, if Lizard Man did touch him, there wouldn’t be more needless explanations and apologizing.

>> “If live streets, light bad. Ears good. Surroundings, know them. Pay attention.”

Down the alley, something small clattered lightly against the pavement. Had that been Lizard Man’s doing, or was it something else? Chase did as instructed, and listened. He was new to the streets, if that wasn’t blatantly obvious before, so he needed some insight from someone slightly more experienced.

>> “Batteries die, then what? Steal? Break in?”

Yes, that was the idea—Chase only stole essentials, and batteries were essential. Lizard Man shook the flashlight, the batteries clicking against the canister rhythmically. Chase's ears perked, his attention was once again redirected towards the lesson.

>> “Keep emergency only. Find red light. Red good, white bad. Red see, white blind.”

Did they make red light bulbs? Chase had never before seen one. Except on police cars. Were those truly red, though, or just white with red paint? If they were red, knicking a red light off of a police car would be a great challenge, indeed. Chase remained silent, as if attempting to absorb what Lizard Man was saying and commit it to memory. Either way, he was going to wind up stealing something.

“Do you use a flashlight?” Chase inquired, turning his head to glance up at Lizard Man.