The silence of Sanctuary's halls at night were a stark contrast to the traffic that the daylight hours brought to the mutant den. Dark shadows replaced the living bodies that would be wandering these halls, the noise of dozens upon dozens of mutants replaced by an eerie silence and thousands of small, unidentifiable noises. It was the one time of day that a place so full of trouble and life was ultimately brought to peace.

It was also the perfect time for someone to move about without running into anyone else and to spend hopefully a few hours in blissful silence. And to someone who was having a period of insomnia and a mind so full of thoughts that sleep was only a distant memory, it was the perfect time of day to work out their problems alone.

Thus why Kyle was carefully making his way down those dark lit halls, illuminated by low lights so that someone who got up to visit the bathroom could see at least mostly where they were headed. Not that Kyle would have needed much light to get to where he was going; he'd taken the trip enough times to almost know the journey like the back of his hand.

The Sanctuary gym was dark upon his arrival, no surprise considering the hour. It was but a moment's work for Kyle to find the lights and power them on, although he already turned on a few of the lights in key areas that he intended to be using. Tonight, that included the dumbbell benches and the free style punching bag that showed its years of wear and tear.

The punching bag was his first destination and almost without noticing it, Kyle fell into a series of practiced blows against the yielding bag before him. His body remembered enough of his routine for him to think about other things entirely without losing a step in his sequence, a fact he was glad for simply because he had a lot on his mind.

First was why he wasn't even here in the first place. True, Sanctuary had provided him with many things; a place to hold up if he needed too, food, water, utilities and facilities that weren't easy to get access to elsewhere for free. This was also a place where being a mutant didn't bring scorn down on you, for everyone here was a mutant. Lastly, it provided him with the chance to meet fellow mutants and, in some cases, test his skills properly against all kinds of mutations. Still, despite all that, part of Kyle wondered if he belonged here at all...there were times when he didn't fit in in the slightest compared to times when it seemed like the only place he could be.

That thought brought to mind the few people he had met here so far. There was the devilish Lori, who was all smiles and crafty words. There was the two red skinned men, known as the Abyssi in passing, but by the names Mercury and Abyss. Of course, there was also their sister, Syn, who was likely as wicked as she was beautiful. Adding to the list was the no nonsense but sharp Noel, who had taken to showing him around the ropes outside of Sanctuary. Skydancer, the purple woman who Kyle had shown to the Sanctuary a few days before, plus various others who Kyle had just begun to meet.

And of course, there was the violate Isabel. A woman that was a deadly combination of attractiveness, a rage that would quell a typhoon in its intensity, a desire to do pain and death at anything that crossed her funny, yet with the personality of a spoiled child half her age. It was her that plagued his thoughts most of all and the frustration he masked beneath a calm facade at being unable to reach a respectful standing with her. Sure, he'd made stupid mistakes so far in reaching that, but it was if anything he did just drove that point farther and farther away. It was like reaching for the rope, only to find that it was farther then your eyes could distinguish.

And like all creatures, Kyle could only hold back such frustration for so long. Which was why he was here, emptying that frustration as fuel is expended from a tank, into a bag that's only purpose was to take what was dished to it. Kyle was only mutely aware now of the blows he was raining down upon the bag, little puffs of dust and god knows what else appearing in reaction to each blow connected. How could he prove himself to her, prove he was at least worth the time of day he took up?

No ideas came to mind and in his careless loss of control at how the thoughts eluded him, Kyle slammed the bag with more then just his fist. It wasn't just from his frustration over the situation with Isabel, which took up most the reasoning, but a collection of everything that was eluding him lately and slowly grinding on his nerves. His energy crackled in his hands and as palm came to blow, the energy escaped, snapping the bag back with enough force to send it swaying back farther then intended. There was a lot of energy pent up in that blow, more then even Kyle would have expected and when the bag came to a rest, Kyle noticed he was panting every so slightly.

Time had become a factor lost on Kyle while his mind had been thinking, so he had no idea how long he'd been here. The loss of control woke him from his state of mindless bliss and his eyes wandered to the bag once again. Sighing, he went back to the simple task of beating the bag senseless while he set his mind to once again think on how he could change things.

It must be difficult, being of the softer skin. He was glad he was how he was. It was a conclusion that he'd come to after years of observation; they were always worrying. Things were important to them. When something bothered them, they didn't just eat it, or ignore it, no, they simply let it bother them. He was pretty sure the being he'd been watching for the last hour was currently such letting things... bother him.

That was the only rational assumption he could make, as one didn't normally hit a leather bag for hours, or not notice a giant cockroach walking into the room, when they were in a pleasant mood; at least, no one he had met presently, that was. As it was, though, he had no plans to interrupt the man. He could probably watch him pound away at that bag for days; mainly because he found things getting hit amusing, even if they were inanimate. Even more entrancing was the abnormal hit; the show of this one's gift. It was impressive. He pondered what it would look like hitting a watermelon... And by a watermelon he meant a box of puppies.

Alas, it was not to be, though, as he had the sudden urge to think aloud, and before his incredibly weak ego could stop him, words chittered out of his maw in a deep, grating whisper. "Why does the pink skin hit the bag? Did it offend? Why so long? Did it offend greatly? Perhaps it took his hat?" Naturally, he was standing in the darkest corner he could find in the room; bugs such as him gravitated toward such areas. The gym in particular had a bulb out by the weight benches, it was enough to make him feel more at home, though it might make the his accidental announcement of his presence a little more alarming.

As always, he was wearing a hat; this time it was a weight clip from the bench press, worn at the base of his left antenna. The light above him flickered a few times, and gave up once more. Obviously, hitting the bag was not working, or he would have stopped by now... Maybe the pink skinned one simply needed to talk.

After a while, Kyle's mind had fallen into its own separate world, while his body gained a second brain of its own, that guided each move it made. Left, right, left, left, right. Low right jab, low right jab, left elbow, right roundhouse, low left, low left. High knee, knee to the side, high kick, high kick, low left kick, right spinning roundhouse kick, double punch to the chest. Then his body would repeat the repetition, switching up the pattern every now and then.

The thing about concentration like that was that it made one deaf to the world around them if not careful. So when the sound of someone's voice suddenly penetrated his secluded veil, Kyle almost jumped out of his shorts. By instinct, his hand swung round in the direction the voice came from and the shadows were momentarily illuminated as his energy spat out.

His shot was off, something he was sure he'd be glad of later, smashing harmlessly against the wall near to the new arrival. What kept Kyle was acting again was what the new arrival looked like.

It was a cockroach. A human sized cockroach. And it was wearing what looked like one of the weight clips from the bench presses, only it wore it on its head like a hat. The combination shocked Kyle enough that his first response, to laugh, was silenced entirely. Instead, Kyle simply stared and blinked in surprise and wonder. His brain caught up fully with him a moment later and he realized that the roachman had been asking him questions.

"Oh...uh...no, the bag didn't do anything. Its what it was created for. Its built to take hits so one can practice against something that doesn't hit back or, you know, die if you hit it too much.

Odd as this might sound, I haven't seen a giant bug running around before. Would you mind...coming out of the shadows a bit more so I can at least see who I'm talking too? Oh, and a name would help too."

The Roach stood perfectly still as the bolt of energy raced past him, and hit the wall, leaving a nice impression. It appeared the soft skinned one had noticed him somehow... Oh my, he'd been talking aloud to himself again, hadn't he? His head turned slowly to examine the little hole... Fascinating. The box of puppies watermelon wouldnt stand a chance. He turned again to see the man staring at him.

He couldn't exactly say he disliked it when people stared; he could say it called forth the slightest urge to eat a face. He'd already eaten, though; a box of puppies, no less. He didn't want to ruin his figure, so he would abstain from face eating this man. Besides, he was one of them, now; an ally in the great war between those that were normal, and those that had no mutations(See what I did there?).

The man's words found him, and by George did he use them:"Oh...uh...no, the bag didn't do anything. Its what it was created for. Its built to take hits so one can practice against something that doesn't hit back or, you know, die if you hit it too much. Odd as this might sound, I haven't seen a giant bug running around before. Would you mind...coming out of the shadows a bit more so I can at least see who I'm talking too? Oh, and a name would help too."

He stared at the man, his mandibles slowly clacking as he took in his words. For a moment, he, too remained silent. Just when it might have seemed he wouldn't reply, though, he gave a short nod. "Of course." He turned slowly, so that his back was facing the bag puncher, and gripped the wall... And then he skittered up it, much to the wall's complaints.

It only took a second for him to reach the ceiling, which he also found purchase on. He then made his way toward the bag's position, the weight clip slowly sliding down his antennae as he progressed. When it finally slipped from the edge, it gave the bug pause as his intermediate middle hands latched onto the wall, and his longer arm reached up to catch the offending would-be hat. He then dropped to the ground just shy of Forte, where he tossed the clip up, bowed, and caught it on an antennae. "Many greetings, My birth name is Gregory Samson, though I go by the magnificent Roach!" He stood tall, letting the clip, which had been caught at the very tip of his antenna slide down to his crown once more. He then let his eyes wander to the bag, his arms placed behind his back in an inspector's pose. He spoke in a highly intellectual voice he'd heard on the tube; it was a bit dry, but it made things feel more official.

"Yes, I am aware of the usage of the... Punching bag... More, I inquired as to why you hit it with so much ferocity. While I have to say I am impressed with your stamina, one doesn't usually punish something so greatly unless they themselves are troubled. Trust me, I would know." Box of puppies. " So... what troubles you?" Honestly, the punching wasn't the only clue... The look the man'd had on his face the whole time gave it away, and while the giant cockroach wasn't always the type to play shrink to others, he was in a helpful mood.

Kyle's eyes scanned the darkness that the bug man had been, waiting at first for some form of light to illuminate the being once again, then for him to step out after Kyle asked him to show himself. After a few moments of uneasy waiting, Kyle was about to ask again when an unfamiliar sound made him pause. Going silent, Kyle focused his attention on the sound, his mind trying to pick out just what that sound was.

The sound traversed from the spot where Kyle had spotted the man till the sound was coming from an area above him. Then it grew louder and Kyle's gaze was drawn to the roof above his head. Just as the creature dropped down a few feet from him, catching the weight clip that had been on its head with ridiculous ease and replacing it upon his...antenna.

Now that Kyle was seeing the creature in the clear light, it took an ounce of his willpower not to flinch or step back from the creature in repulse. It was literally a standing cockroach, minus the items it wore that no normal cockroach would be wearing. Correction, not it; he. The roach's name was Gregory, a male name unless some parent was cruel enough to call a girl Gregory.

Kyle blinked in curiosity when Roach started speaking in a voice that did not match his appearance, a voice that spoke of intelligence far greater then one might initially suspect. Even his stance was opposite of what one might expect; where one might expect him to be hunched over and chattering, Roach was standing like a professional inspector.

Tilting his head to Roach's questions, Kyle folded his arms across his chest and pondered the creature as he responded. "Well, I suppose I'm troubled of sorts; to be honest, I wasn't even really paying attention to what I was doing to the bag.

What troubles me? What troubles every guy on the planet? Woman troubles. Simple as that."

"Well, I suppose I'm troubled of sorts; to be honest, I wasn't even really paying attention to what I was doing to the bag. What troubles me? What troubles every guy on the planet? Woman troubles. Simple as that."

He started to pace slowly around the still gently rocking bag as he listened to the man. It was beaten and scuffed, but he imagined it was quite satisfied with itself, having served it's purpose well so far. By the time he'd finished talking he'd come about the other side, and he gave a big nod to his words. "Ahhh, the ever present agony provided by the fairer sex... I must say, though, I do not feel your pain at the moment. True, I have my problems. 99 at least, but a female does not count among them."

His ceased walking about the punching bag, altering his path to approach the young pink skin once more. "I must confess you have me at a disadvantage, though... I have introduced myself at request, but I know not your name. In response... I shall henceforth call you Captain Steubin Von Huffenstein" He leaned in and tipped his weight clip to the man.

"So, Steu. Do you mind if I call you Steu? Tell me about your lady problems. Perhaps I can offer assistance." And why not? His point of view was certainly objective, if a little...unique.

Kyle's eyes followed Roach as the walking insect stalked around the punching bag. The click clack of his feet against the tiled floor of the gym echoed across the empty room, every sound making Kyle's body unconscionably twitch with each echo. When Roach came around the other side, Kyle realized that his hands had been clenched this entire time.

Releasing the tension in his hands to relax them, Kyle smiled knowingly towards Roach at this comments. "Well, I'm sure you'll have a hundred problems if you ever find one. Women tend to find a way to be one; though not intentionally I'm sure."

At the back of his mind, Kyle pondered the oddest questions. The foremost was what being a walking talking cockroach did for the man; physical mutations tended to make life harder for those mutants gifted with them. Kyle had only seen a few around lately stood out clearly and Roach was just one of those few. Briefly, Kyle wondered if his mutation granted him the same level of resistance that cockroachs seemed to have...then he focused back on the matter at hand.

"I haven't introduced myself? Oh, that's right, I haven't. Well, as much fun as that name is, my name is Kyle Albatross.

As for my lady problems, well, in a long story turned extremely short, there's a lady I'm trying to make friends with. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to trust me or my intentions in any way or form, and as such, she continues to be rude and distant. Oh and she may have tried to kill me once or twice, but that's a relatively minor problem."

So.. Kyle Albatross was it? He really did like Steubin... Still... Albatross... He could work with Albatross... It was a truly elegant name; very distinguished with a nice woody feel to it. Alas, it was way too long to utter countless times, as they were sure to be the best of friends. Alby it was, then!

As for my lady problems, well, in a long story turned extremely short, there's a lady I'm trying to make friends with. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to trust me or my intentions in any way or form, and as such, she continues to be rude and distant. Oh and she may have tried to kill me once or twice, but that's a relatively minor problem."

Ah, so his lady acquaintance wished him ill, and it bugged him greatly... He wasn't surprised, he was fairly certain that upon mating the female would just devour his cranium anyways... or was that birds? No matter; he was sure he had some incredibly valuable input for the poor lad.

"Alby, my boy, trust takes time, and considering you haven't made a name for yourself quite yet, I would assume you have not been here for very long... Perhaps, then, it would be for the best if you exercised patience. Also, it is most important, when in the company of a female, that you not try too hard to get her to like you. They don't like that for some reason." He nodded stiffly. "Also, killing is just something that happens around here. Good that you failed to die; it would be a shame to see that new blood all go to waste"

Roach must have been raised up on some form of cable television. Probably from watching some kind of British show of sorts; Kyle had only heard that kind of speech coming from fancy folks or people on the shows from Britain. Like Sherlock Holmes. At least the occasional tick of his head or body parts had already become common enough for Kyle so that he didn't jump at every single one.

That didn't mean he wasn't any less cautious around the man; just that now he was watching for a real threat that wouldn't be considered as a natural...bug tick.

Still, what Roach was saying made sense, strange as that was. Here was a man who probably had the womanfolk fleeing from him in the hordes and yet, it was if Roach had been dealing with woman in this regard for years. Was he a genius on the matter...or had his fancy upbringing given him insight of a less then direct manner? Either way, the man was making sense, even if some of the things he said made Kyle twitch due to the oddity.

"Oh, I've made something of a name for myself. I think you'd know the word well; its pest. Of course, I don't mean that in any offense.

Patience huh? And its not that I'm trying to get her to like me, per say. Its more along the lines of getting her to respect me enough to consider me someone she doesn't mind being around. I mean, I've tried being nice to her as a show of trust, but I tend to make things worse no matter what I do.

Yes, well, not for lack of her trying. When she wants to kill someone, I'm sure not much could stop her. I'm lucky enough to be one of the few that kind fend her off...to a point." To a point. Like a bone point inches for his throat, only stopped by the threat of mutual harm. Amusing thought that he'd end that sentence in a terrible pun.

"Well, do me a favor and keep away from any new blood I might spill, alright? So Roach...where did you learn all this...relationship stuff? I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess it's not from first hand experience?"

He would be damned if this young gentleman wasn't just a little bit jumpy. Still, he seemed earnest enough, if a little confused about his place in the the world. He didn't blame him, though; finding one's place was an art to be mastered only by the most insightful minds, or the aching crawl of time.

"Oh, I've made something of a name for myself. I think you'd know the word well; its pest. Of course, I don't mean that in any offense." An eyebrow would have raised at that statement had be eyebrows. Instead he tilted his head in and to the side a bit. "Pest? And why would I know the word so well? You see, when I first came here, I spoke to others respectfully, minded their personal space, and simply enjoyed myself whilst in the company of others; as a result, I have yet to be called a pest... Though now it has been hinted once." He didn't sound offended at all, he simply stated openly his stance on the situation. To him, it was obvious that this young man had rubbed one or more people the wrong way; this wasn't at all rare at the sanctuary. It was quite common that people had a hard time fitting in at first, and some never fit in at all. He didn't know which of the two this young man was, but he might as well help his odds, right?


Patience huh? And its not that I'm trying to get her to like me, per say. Its more along the lines of getting her to respect me enough to consider me someone she doesn't mind being around. I mean, I've tried being nice to her as a show of trust, but I tend to make things worse no matter what I do. Yes, well, not for lack of her trying. When she wants to kill someone, I'm sure not much could stop her. I'm lucky enough to be one of the few that kind fend her off...to a point.

"Once again, for some people simply being nice isn't enough. Some people don't want to see you; I have learned who to avoid, and when to avoid them, and after a while, they might not mind you being around as long as you don't talk to them... Some time after that, you can chat... Throw out some, HIs, BYEs and whatnot. It may never go past that, it may become a friendship, but I honestly think you are missing the grand point, here..." He nodded thoughtfully, leaning in just a little bit. "In the end, if someone doesn't like you for little to no reason, and nothing you can do can change their stance on the matter... then f*** them. They aren't worth your time." He reached out slowly to pat the man on the shoulder, and give it a little shake.

"Well, do me a favor and keep away from any new blood I might spill, alright? So Roach...where did you learn all this...relationship stuff? I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess it's not from first hand experience?"

"Believe it or not, Alby, I was only a disgusting bag of meat like yourself; Of course, I don't mean any offense. I lived a normal, pinky life, went to college, carried my whole family on my back, and even had a few loves and plenty likes. But that's just the thing... Love or no love, I was miserable. I hated my life, I hated my self, and I hated the whole damned world." He let go of the man's shoulder and turned to the heavy bag, delivering a punch that ripped it wide open, and sent sand pouring into the ground at their feet.

"And then one day, I woke up, walked over to the mirror, peeled off my face, and I was something new; I was something unbound by the chains of a normal life. I no longer had to care about how others saw me, and therefor I was happy, and have been ever since. Perhaps you could learn a lesson from that. Or you can continue being miserable."