It was a relatively quiet night. In Special's Home for the Heroically Challenged sat two individuals- Special himself and another, old time popular Hero of the past- Libi Grace.

There were currently sitting in the living room area of the House, in the dark. Libi had taken to covering herself up in a blanket, as well as some of her light up stars, seated on a couch. Special himself was lighting up candles, thunder roaring from outside the building as the sky lit up with brief lightning. A shadow from the dark shimmered, and Libi glanced up to a slightly drenched Persia.

His arms were covered in an excess of candles, which he placed onto the living room's coffee table, Special helping arrange them. "You couldn't light them while you were at it?" asked the retired Hero, Persia's ears lighting up in blue flame.
"I was getting on it," he growled, thunder crackling in the background.

There was a clatter in the kitchen, and the two men glanced up, curious about the noise.

The clatter from the kitchen was punctuated by a mild groan. "Oh, son of a... Don't worry, everybody, I'm okay." There was the clattering of pots and pans again for a few moments, and then the source of the noise rolled out into the living room. "Can't see where the hell I'm going in there... Nothing's broken in there, though." Overreach let out a soft sigh and parked himself in the middle of the room, glancing between its occupants briefly. "So... how's the candle situation going?"

Violet wasn't a fan of storms. The loud noises and sudden flashes always gave her great unease, plus there were times when the lights would flicker or go out all together, which would totally ruin whatever hobby she was trying to do at the time. So when darkness suddenly enveloped her room the small girl leaped up and ran from her room.

Wandering around a pitch-black house was much easier for someone who's skin literally glowed at every point of the day, that was the main thought in the small woman's mind as she walked slowly through the halls of the home, arms reaching forward into the darkness ahead. The purple taint on her skin swirled and glowed softly in the darkness, just enough for Vi to see at least a few steps ahead, and she frowned as her ears easily picked up the clatter and chatting from the living room ahead. Careful not to touch the wall with her arms, she moved to the side slightly, hoping to sneak up on whoever had gathered in the main room of the rather large home. Instead of doing that, though, the girl jumped at least two feet in the air as thunder rumbled, tripped over her own two feet, and toppled forward.

Once her hands and face collided with the floor she felt a surge of rage and pain fill her head. Rage was a bad thing for her, as it set off her powers. The wood flooring bubbled where the purple touched it, and the taint itself shifted angrily. Violet sat up swiftly, sighing as she watched two hand shape holes burn their way through the wood work. Welp, maybe Special won't notice. After standing up and rubbing her now-red forehead gentle she began walking forward again, entering a rather pretty scene of candles, stars, and familiar people. A flash of lightning and thunder made her jump again, the taint on her arms visibly shivering. Once it passed she rose a glowing arm, giving a half-smile,

"Hey, uh, the lights are out." She stated the obvious, coming further into the room to sit on the couch, breathing calmly as her hands rested on the cushions.

"Oh, it's just you," sighed Persia in relief at the sight of Overreach, his cheeks lighting dimly in embarresment. "And I think I got most of the candles. Special's lighting them up no-"

He flinched, as did Special, at another sound of clattering nearby. Libi glanced to the side in an almost uncaring manner, her star lights wandering over to a gentle purple glow. It was Violet the violet, offering a sound piece of advice- "Hey, uh. Lights are out."
"No kidding," Special snorted as he clicked at his lighter to light the seventeenth candle, only to have it fail him. "Hey, Zippo- light up the rest o' these, will you?"

"Hey," greeted Persia with a smile at the new addition to the group, the tips of his hair catching on fire at the sight of Violet. His attention, however, was turned to Special who needed a task, to whih he argued, "I'm... Not really sure we should be lighting the candles up all at once. I mean, if we hang around Libi we should be fine- not that I'm saying we're only using you, Lib."
Libi offered a small nod of uncaring understanding.

Persia did end up lighting two other candles however, and offering it to Overreach and Violet- "In case you guys need to go somewhere else, I guess. Oh, but Violet... I guess you won't need it, huh."

Tori's relationship with technology was a very much so a love hate one. It was, on one hand, the source of all his paranoia. On the other hand, he had developed a sort of dependence on it. It was a necessary evil, and, as much Tori hated to admit it, functioning without it was something he was not good at. Actually, horrible is probably a better word for how he handles situations where he's cut off from it.

In hindsight, maybe he should have kept his phone charged.

As per usual, when the lights went off Tori had been sitting on his couch, laptop on the coffee table in front of him. Lucky for him, his mind hadn't been inside the machine when the power went. He didn't quite know what would have happened if he had been, but it was something Tori had no desire to experience. Once the initial freak out was over, his mind immediately went to "it's okay, you've still got your phone". Disappointment washed over his face when he realized the thing was completely dead.

So he was left with two options. The first was sit in his dark room, waiting for the lights to come back on. Now, Tori was equipped to handle certain things. He knew how to fix the wifi when it went out and he could cook a mean pot of macaroni and cheese. Dealing with potentially horrifying things like having to sit alone in the dark, which anything could be hiding in, was not his forte.

That left him with the other option of going and seeing what everyone else was doing.

Clad in an oversized hoodie, shorts that were a length most mothers wouldn't approve of, and pastel blue socks that came to above his knees (all of which made him look a lot younger than he actually was), Tori managed to navigate out of his room. He could hear chatter, presumably coming from the main living room, and decided to make that his destination. He did live with some people that wear rather good at creating light. At least there would be comfort in that, even if he didn't necessarily interact with the other inhabitants of the house as often as he should.

About halfway down the hall he tripped over something, and smacked his head off the ground. Rolling over and into the fetal position, clutching his head as he did so, a stream of curses came from Tori's mouth. And maybe, just maybe, as he bit down on his lip to distract himself from the pain in his head, a few tears escaped. Not that he would ever actually tell anyone that. No, whoever had left whatever it was he has tripped over sitting in the middle of the hallway was never going to hear the end of it. (Upon later inspection, Tori would realize it wasn't actually something he'd tripped over, but a lack of something. That something being part of the floor.)