[hr][h1][i][color=fff200]Wyatt Abrahms[/color].[/i][/h1]
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Squinting his eyes against the flickering exposed bulb that was lighting up the concrete stairwell leading up the government subsidized apartment building he currently owed his residence too, Wyatt somberly climbed the steps up to the third floor. Ignoring the sounds of domestic squabbles coming from the floor below his, the expletives had become nearly daily occurrences in that 'happy' marriage, he turned the key in it's lock before letting out a long sigh.

"Emilia... Why are you in my apartment again?" 

True to his words, a mousy looking young woman was seated on the middle of his rug. She couldn't have been more than five and a half feet tall, standing on her tip-toes.  Currently wearing one of his old hoodies and over-sized sweat pants, she could even be considered 'cute' in a low effort kind of way. Sadly, this effect was ruined by the fact that she had her face currently smooshed against an absurdly sized bong. 

Blinking away water in her overly irritated eyes, she only looks up after he said something. She grinned widely, showing off a set of unnaturally sharp looking teeth and a very pronounced overbite, before blowing a big cloud of smoke in his direction. "Sparky! You're home so early, I was thinking I might have to spend the whooooooole night alone again! You are such a big meanie, always just leaving me and walking around the city."

With a sigh mirroring the one he let out just moments ago, Wyatt did his best to ignore the girl that had snuck her way into his room. He just occupied himself with looking around the living area to see if she had -done- anything to it. 

His apartment honestly looked rather un-lived in. His only furniture in the rather dark room that served as his 'living' area was a large dusty red rug that was situated off-center in the middle of the floor and a single wooden dining chair sat next to a half broken wooden table. That single seating area was set back against the only window in the whole apartment on the northern wall and upon that window sat the only source of light for this entire room; a lone candle. 

Seeing as his search for tampering only included these few areas, he was quite content to seat himself upon the wooden chair and take the top book off the large stack sitting on the table to his left. The only reason he couldn't drown out his sorrows in the sweet-sweet words of Stephen King was the woman now crawling across the carpet to him on all fours; bong abandoned to the wayside. 

"Sparkster! C'moooon. You are so cold! I just want to know about your day... and maybe we could even talk about fixing this place up! I mean really... I know you and electronics don't mix, but think about me! I was here all day with no TV, no Internet, not even a radio or something! Imagine if weed required an outlet, I would be sooooo bored!"

"You could always just - you know - go back across the hall to your own home. Where you have all those eminites you are whining about; trust me I can feel them from here."

"Just c'mon cutie! Taaaalk~ with me."

With what a boring day it had been so far, he honestly was pondering humoring the woman. Closing the book, he was certain that this was always the time he pushed her out of his apartment and wiped his hands of this mess. 

She was one-hundred percent bonafide crazy, that much he was positive of. She was always breaking into his apartment and acting like they were lovers, or something like that. Honestly, he wasn't sure if she was just always baked out of her mind on some concoction of drugs or what. She normally attempted to have small talk with him before a very clumsy seduction, but it didn't often come to that as she was out of the door long before then. But not this time, it seems.

"Okay Emilia work with me here. I will humor you, but, you need to stop doing the crazy stuff like breaking into my apartment. We are -neighbors- and potentially friends; not estranged lovers or anything like that."

She met this latest statement with a pout as she finished crawling up right to my legs and seating herself right there. "You're no fun Wyatt, why won't you accept me? But if you aren't kicking me out... I suppooooooose~~ that is progress."

Ignoring the twitching in his eye as she calls him Wyatt. [i] I still have no idea how she found that out. Just one more reason she is nothing but trouble.[/i] He attempted to respond neutrally, "Okay... So if you were asking about my day; it was pretty straight forward. The scattered rains kept most people inside while I was out around town. On top of that, I got off work early and grabbed chinese food for lunch, nothing interesting really."

Despite the normality of the statements, she seemed absolutely ecstatic that she was hearing his words. "Wowzers! Ms. Akemi let you off work huh? That doesn't happen often! We should celebrate!" 

Before she could even finish un-zipping his old hoodie, Wyatt was already up out of the chair and pushing her out of the apartment. "How did I know this was going to end in sexual harassment. You couldn't keep it together for -five- minutes to have a normal conversation. Jeez.."

The only answer he got was a pathetic whining from the girl as she struggle to dig her feet into the rug to keep him from escorting her out of the apartment. This was easily answered by Wyatt calmly removing his black electrician's glove and poking her in the back of the neck with his index finger, causing an abrupt jump from the woman as the latent static electricity he always was so unable to get rid of leaped from him, through his finger, to her. 

"Owchie! FINE. Big ol' jerk. I'll be back, you hear me Sparky? I'll be back~~~!" 

With that her further musings were easily cutoff by the door slamming in her face. Her cartoonish exit was one he was quite used to by this point, he was content to leave it be for now. Ignoring her forgotten bong still resting on his rug, surely to give her cause to bother him sometime in the future, Wyatt couldn't help but mutter to himself as he slowly dragged his feet back across the room to his chair, "What a joke." 

His bad mood was only matched by the soft pattering of rain against the window at his back and the darkening of the room as the sun was obscured by the clouds of this sudden if not un-expected storm. He turned himself around in the chair and brought his still un-gloved hand up to the candle, concentrating on the wick, he let a small concentrated spark of energy leave his body through his finger. Though leaving the tip rather irritated, the small bolt was enough to ignite the wick. "I guess not needing a lighter is the sole saving grace of this damned power.." 

Content enough to spend his now freed afternoon reading a few chapters of his book, he pushed any thought of his power behind him. Though it had its uses, it always made him crave delving down the dark slope of energy consumption and that was the last demon he wanted to be fighting tonight.