[An Entry To The EMERGENCE Shared Universe Roleplay Project]
| The Mavericks | New Lilith |

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| NEW LILITH |
~Shadows of Darkness~
| GM: Lord Wraith | Deputy GM: Roman |

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“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”
― W.B. Yeats

New Lilith, a towering monument to progress, a city literally caught between moving forward and in the echoes of times gone by. Skyscrapers stand side by side with elegant buildings adorned with spires and other Gothic influences. Gargoyles hang over ledges, keeping a close watch over the city below as other intricate works of stone catch the eye and attention of those who walk the manicured streets. New Lilith boosts some of the best masons in all of North America and as such the city's fine craftsmanship is one of its primary draws. This attributes to New Lilith's booming tourism industry which brings people from all over to the city nearly all year round.

But fine masonry and stone working is not the only draw that New Lilith has on tourists, the city itself is home to vast and rich history spanning nearly a thousand years from when the area was first mysteriously settled to its role during the Salem Witch Trials right up to the birth of the city's revolutionary hydroelectric dam. New Lilith is always constantly moving, like the great tide that crashes against its Eastern coast every day, giving power to the city through the dam. Some say the tide is like a heartbeat, pounding as it pumps life into the city, and anyone native to New Lilith would swear the city was alive. The ground moans and groans, as though it's waking up after a long slumber, stirring as it awakens once more.

Perhaps it's because the world is changing, twenty years ago no one would have thought of putting on a mask and taking the law into their own hands and yet in a West Coast city that is exactly what has happened. People gifted with unique abilities have begun to emerge from within the crowds, people capable of changing the course of mankind. While it may have started in the West, the effects have rippled across North America and have no washed over New Lilith, drowning the city in the rising tide. Yet the question still remains, will they usher mankind into a new era of enlightenment or plunge it into the shadows of the dark ages.

Only time will tell...

| Chapter I: The Fool |

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Thursday, October 31, 2013

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The overly cheerful chime of the alarm was possibly the most unwelcome noise that Addison Winter Caspian could imagine at this very moment as it disturbed her sleep, permeating every square inch of her skull. Dragging the covers over her as she buried her head beneath the over-sized pillow, Winter audibly groaned as she realized the darkness which she embraced to sleep had been violated by the constant flickering of daylight as it slithered between the mangled blinds on her window. After a struggle lasting a whole five minutes, Winter finally reluctantly surrender to the alarm as she rolled over and hit the button, the looming display almost seemed like some hellish abomination as the red numbers angrily stared back at her.

'9:45? Already? Seriously I feel like it was 3am half an hour ago. A groan escaped her lips as she flopped back over on the bed, spreading out to allow the bed to consume her as the young woman stared at the antique ceiling above her head.

'What day is it even? Do I have class? Please say it's Friday, oh I pray to whatever higher power there may be that it's Friday.' Her inner monologue went on, as she sat up and reached for her cellphone only to let out a cry of anguish upon reading the screen realizing that not only was it not Friday, but it was also Hallowe'en. That mean the 'Cauldron was going to be a gong show later.

"At least I'm not working." She grumbled to herself as she swung her legs over the edge of the King sized bed, feeling around with her feet for her slippers before standing up. Tugging at her tanktop, she looked down remembering she had been too tired for pajamas and had slept in her underwear, silently cursing as she remembered her blinds didn't really protect her privacy. Scrambling to her closet as the wooden floor beneath her creaked and moaned with age, Winter pulled out a robe and quickly threw it over her. Making her way to the bathroom she nearly did a double take as her reflection looked like it was already dressed for this evening. Winter had forgotten to remove her makeup from the day before and now it, combined with the mess of hair atop her head gave her a look that could probably turn a gorgon to stone.

'Ugh.'
Reaching over the claw foot bathtub, Winter turned the tap and began to run the hot water, ensuring her shower would be more than warm enough before she undressed. Pulling a fresh towel out of the nearby closet, Winter peeled off what few clothes she had on before stepping into the baptism of hot water as it rained down on her seemingly washing away all her stress of tiredness. Winter was a firm believing that a hot shower was better than any cup of coffee in the morning.

~ ~ ~

After the hot water tank had been drained and about an hour after that, Winter finally emerged from the bathroom, only her robe between her and any would be peepers across the street as she moved back into her bedroom. After quickly throwing on her usual attire of jeans and a tank top, Winter decided she had best check in on her emails ensuring that she hadn't missed anything from the class that took place while she had taken her shower. Her stomach growled as she sat down at the small desk and opened the laptop, the first reminder that she hadn't eaten yet this morning.

'12:30, fuck!' Or rather this afternoon as the case was currently. She shook her head at the time as she opened her inbox, noticing a rather large amount of emails from 'Facbook'.

"Don Macintosh has added you as a friend, Charles Glover... Fredrick Hattin... Who are these people? Fuckin' creepers." Winter muttered as she leaned back in her chair, selecting all the emails and hitting delete. Clicking open a new tab, she logged into her Facebook and quickly 'ignored' the same friend requests. "Preferred when it said rejected. Bunch of stupid boys." She noted most of them attended Hobbes, which meant they had seen her in class or something like that and figured she was cute so they could add her.

'The least they could have done was talk to me first.' Her stomach suddenly growled again prompting Winter to close the laptop and grab her leather jacket off the back of the door before locking up her apartment and heading downstairs. Coming out into the hallway, Winter nearly collided with a wall of orange and black balloons. Her body started to phase through the balloons but the sound of another person caused Winter to step back, remaining solid as she looked around the floating wall.

"Good afternoon Winter!" Came a male voice from behind the balloons as one of her coworkers poked her head out.

"Hey Scott," Winter responded with a small wave. She really wasn't in the mood for letting small talk to stop her from grabbing a bite to eat. But she knew Scott, and he'd want to talk. "Serena got you setting up for tonight already?" She asked, moving around the balloons and slowly moving towards the Stein and Cauldron's exit.

"Yeah buddy, Ravencroft's favourite holiday tonight. I thought you'd know that. You've been here over a year haven't you?"

"Eight months I think," Winter said turning towards the door only to let out a silent sigh of exasperation as Scott continued the conversation.

"Oh well, you fit in so well, it's like you've always been here." He smiled wide as he looked at Winter who hid her annoyance quickly.

Please tell me he is not flirting with me. "Hey Scott I was ju..."

"So are you working tonight?" His voice quickly spoke over Winter he nearly caused her lip to bleed as she bit down on it in frustration. Her angry stomach growling loudly under her jacket.

"No I'm not." She answered flatly turning to leave as Scott continued to talk.

"Well you should come out anyways! I mean, you won't get to sleep with the party happening below your bed."

"I think I'll stay at a friend's!" Winter called back trying to ignore the cynic in her head. Friends, what's that, someone else to let get close so they can stab you in the back.

"Uh well, maybe you and I could get a bite to eat sometime." Scott added as Winter exited the building.

And there's the date invitation. She shook her head as she walked around to the alley, and lifted up the door to the garage that Serena let her store her bike in while she rented the apartment above the pub. Pulling the powerful machine out, Winter closed the door, replacing the lock before climbing onto the hog and relishing the sound of the engine purring between her legs as it drowned out the recent memories of Scott's babbling. Sliding her helmet onto her head, Winter kicked off, gliding the bike into a perfect merge with the steady stream of traffic before revving the engine and ripping between lanes as she left the Bazaar behind.

~ ~ ~

The Western part of the city was also was such a stark contrast from the Central district. It was almost as though Winter had traveled through time as she rode her trusty Harley from beneath the shadows of Gothic architecture to that of the recognizable golden arches. Turning off the busy road, Winter pulled into a Fuddruckers, deciding to splurge a little for a much better burger. Being raised in a biker gang might have a lot of draw backs, but one definitely develops an appreciation for quality a meat. An appreciation that can not be met by McDonald's, but Fuddruckers did a pretty good at coming up to the bar. Winter bit down into the freshly prepared burger, savouring the flavour of the meat with the wonderful accents of the toppings that she had so generously piled on it. Taking a breather to nibble on a few fries and take a sip of her pineapple juice, Winter noticed an abandoned newspaper lying on the now empty table adjacent to hers. The headline emblazoned across it was rather eye catching as it read 'Superhumans Among Us?'. Looking around to ensure no one was watching, Winter held out her hand calling the paper to it as it flew off the table and firmly into her grip. Chewing slowly as she read, Winter found herself strangely relieved in knowing there were plenty more people out in the world just like her. While she'd never be brazen enough to dress in a costume and use her powers to stop crime, at least she wasn't a one of a kind freak anymore. The article reference several videos from YouTube which were filmed in Kilbride, some apparently large city that Winter had never heard of. Probably because it was on the other side of the country in Washington state. Either way, it appeared a group of superpowered individuals stopped a bank robbery, the article detailed that since that night nearly two and a half weeks ago, the 'vigilantes' had been seen more and more frequently. Flipping the page, Winter continued to read after see another interesting article. Apparently there's recent string of diamond robberies in New Lilith which the police can't seem to pin down any leads on. The only 'evidence' evidence that's been found consistently at all the crime scenes so far appears to be small puddles of water. Which while odd, didn't exactly provide any leads.

'Perhaps New Lilith could use some vigilante justice.' Winter rolled her eyes at the thought as she finished her meal and stood up, dumping her tray into the garbage before leaving the establishment.

|_______Trial_by_Failure_______|
|____Starring:_Drake_Castle___|

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New Lilith Ski Resort; Dusk

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With my cape fluttering behind me, snapping loudly because of a powerful cold wind, I stood atop an outhouse posted on the Ski Resort's slope right beside the trail. Riding towards me, garbed in red armor and wearing a scarlet BMX helmet, was my target. He had a package kept in a container slung over his back like a quiver, little did he realize that it would soon belong to me. As he approached my position, maintaining his speed and course, blazing down the trail, I pushed off the tips of my toes and leapt through the air, pouncing towards the rider. My cape caught the wind and made a distinct crack that ensured I wouldn't drop down to the dirt path below.

I began to rise through the air, gracefully gliding under the cover of night, casting an extra dark shadow on the path below as I pursued the rider. Once I was directly above him, he looked up, completely taken off-guard by the sudden darkness that shrouded him. He saw my form hovering over him like an eagle chasing a mouse, so I dropped, and as I got closer I forced his heart to beat like a gatling gun. He screamed and tried to change his path, but it was already too late. I dropped from the sky above him and used his armored body and bike to break my fall. Upon landing, I heard the unmistakable sound of a breaking leg and the scream that follows.

"Gaaah! Oh Ga-" my gloved fist clapped his cheek and silenced him.

"Where are the others!" I roared, imitating Christian Bale's Batman performance as best I could.

"They-they're.. they're coming," he said, raising his finger and pointing over my shoulder

I spun around to see what he was talking about, but all I saw was a bat racing towards my face. I heard a resounding Whap and dropped to the ground, my eyes fading to a closr as I drifted out of agony and into the embrace of a reluctant slumber.

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New Lilith Vocational Academy; 1:35 PM

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"Wake up, Castle!" My eyes instantly snapped open as I saw a rolled-up magazine pulled away from my now stinging face.

I'd apparently fallen asleep in class again, with Simon in the desk to my left, and Jessica Morgan in the one to my right. She sneered at me with flared nostrils and slitted eyes. Typical. Instead of continually trying to kill me with her eyes, she directed me to our ever lecturing public educator.

"...and that, class, is why no one actually killed George Washington and he lived with his wife for many, many years before he, like everyone else succumbed to death. Now class, clear off your desks except for a pencil."

I pulled my hands off of my cheeks, which had been holding my head up, and began to pat myself down, looking for a pencil. I slowly explored all my pockets and anxiously shifted in my seat while I hoped that I just had one. Even one would've been fantastic. But, C'est la Vie.

"Having a good time with your hands?" Jessica chided as she referenced the way I was feeling for a pencil. I didn't have a good comeback, so I huffed and turned my head.

I reached over and softly rapped my knuckles on Simon's desk, "Hey, buddy?"

Barely raising an eyebrow, Simon tossed the pencil off his desk onto mine before pulling another from a pocket on the leg of his jeans. He then crossed his arms and firmly refused to acknowledge my existence as he picked up his history book and journals, sliding them off the desk and setting them on the floor while the teacher began to make his way around the room, depositing tests onto every single student's desk, one at a time.

It almost makes me wish I'd studied. Almost.

Fortunately, luck was on my side. Simon always knew the answers, even though he never studied. Sitting next to him I should have no problem passing this class. Well, that always was my theory. I bit my lip as I anxiously awaited the arrival of my test. Then I decided that everyone else should share my pain.

I looked at my desk, casually I began to tap the pencil I'd borrowed, creating a steady beat. Then, I extended my awareness a little bit, feeling Simon's steady and relaxed heart beating like a healthy teen's should. I made sure he wouldn't get too comfortable. So I sped it up a little bit. His foot began to anxiously tap as he lost his cool. But he didn't lose his focus.

Jolting, he spun his neck towards me and whisper-screamed, "Stop it," firmly announcing his will through gritted teeth.

So I eased off, and let him steadily transition back to a regular beat when the teacher finally got to me. He stopped and eyed me for a second, venting his disgust at my very existence before he dropped the paper on the edge of my desk and walked away. I looked at my paper and came upon a horrific revelation: It was an essay.

So, surrendering to my fate, I wrote three words on the paper: I Don't Know. Then, I flipped the paper over and rested my head on the desk before I waited for class to end. Minutes later Simon did the same, turning his wonderfully written miniature article onto it's face. God, he can be such a nerd. Immediately after his paper was turned over, he produced a pencil from his pocket and took his nails, scratching his fingernails along it's many faces, then he set it on the ground before rolling it to my shoes.

Casually picking up the pencil that had strayed from my friend's possession, I gave it a quick look over. Using his nail, he'd etched a message into the side of the pencil. Clever of him. It read:


I took the pencil and, using the pencil sharpener, destroyed the message by grinding the wooden pencil to the point where the tip was hardly an extension of the eraser.

Jason awoke in his apartment, on the couch, where he had fallen asleep this late afternoon. A magazine over his face, and a couple cans of soda on the floor. He hadn't gotten put into school yet, that hell would be starting tomorrow for him. He didn't mind school in itself, he just knew that someone, somehow, was gonna piss him off. People always had a tendency to do so.

Jason rubbed his face, as he shook awake again, to the banging on the door, he lazily looked at the clock, which read a quarter past five. "Shit!" The young man let out, as he dashed off of the coach, taking off the dirty wifebeater he was wearing, plucking up a less dirty shirt, that he put on as he headed to the door.

He opened the door, revealing the 6'2 African American who was his parole officer. "Ah. Jeffster, my pal." The boy's tone being sprinkled with sarcasm.

"You know damn well it's Jeff, so cut the crap Campbell." The man, about a decade and a half older than Jason himself, Jeff was in his early 30's, and ex-con who turned his life around.

"Yes, sir." Jason said with a smile. The two didn't know each other very well, having only been chatting a few times in the past two weeks that Jason's spent in Lilith. This was the second time this week, fifth time in total Jeff they had a 'meet', first time it wasn't at a diner or other place to get food.

Jason nodded for Jeff to come inside. He headed to the kitchen to grab himself something to drink.
"I didn't cook anything, you want a beer" The Texan said, his tone was taunting Jeff, whom he knew was a former alcoholic.

"You really do like starting shit, don't you, Mr.Campbell?" Jeff asked him, his voice was tired, as he walked into the apartment, taking off his jacket, looking around. "Nice place, don't you ever clean?"

"Who's starting shit now?" Jason said from the kitchen. Jeff let out a soft scoff. "You have a coke?"

"Pepsi okay?"
"Sure."
"What kinda freak are you, Jeff?" Jason said, walking out of the kitchen with two cold cans of cola, tossing one of them swiftly to the older male. Jeff just shook his head.

"You are aware you're starting school tomorrow, right?" His tone was serious, as he opened the can.
"Sorry, but I can't take you serious while you're drinking soda. Just doesn't fit you." Jason told him, with a grin, walking towards the second room, the living room which doubled as Jason's bedroom.

He pulled up a chair for Jeff. "Like I said, cut the crap, Jason."

"Call me J-Dog." He retorted, before shaking his head. "I know that I've got school tomorrow. Looking quite forward to it, too."

"You do realize you can't get into trouble, or it'll have dire consequences for you, right?" Jeff told Jason, whom nodded. "I get it. I break someone's nose, I'll get hauled right back into Juvie."

"That'd be correct, yes."

"But kneecaps are fair game, right?"

It was three in the afternoon by the time Alex had walked home with a hazy smile and a congratulatory chai tea latte from a lovely market vendor she had discovered on an exploratory walk during her first walk. Her tote bag bumped her leg for every stride she took and a few untamed locks of hair peeking out from beneath her hat tickled the back of her neck irritatingly as the breeze ruffled them, and her sweater was a little too cloying for this heat...but she didn't pay any of it any mind. Jethro had asked her out, and she was suprisingly and exceedingly happy about it. Despite her confusion as to their 'status' after their nights out, and her attempts to be aloof and separate from previous experiences with emotion out of some naive attempt at maturity - she liked Jethro. He was cute, and funny, and he dressed well and smelt nice and pushed her hair up and back in a particular way she liked very much but could never replicate. She smiled again with renewed fervor as she stepped into her flat block and then called the elevator.

The doors opened to Kitty's form on the other side, and she looked up from her phone with ever-so-slightly pouting lips (perfectly red with porcelain foundation, a Snow White look Alex knew she wore when she felt homesick) and broke form into a smirk as Alex grinned back at her.
"You look sickeningly cheery, child. Did someone you hate die?" Alex didn't stop grinning, but she did shake her head as she swapped places with Kitty.
"Jet asked me over for dinner." She said, and the doors closed before Kitty could reply with more than a raised eyebrow and another smirk.

-

Up in their apartment, Alex locked the door behind her - Kitty had a key - and dumped her bag on the kitchen counter, walking around the table into the attached living area, flumping down on the sofa and looking at the clock that sat on top of the television. Ten past three. Three hours and fifty minutes. Three and a half before she had to leave. She sat in contemplation for a few seconds, and then got up again. She had time.

She went to her room and shut the door, closing the latch. She made sure her window was shut tight and secure and then drew her curtains before stepping over to her desk and plugging her phone into her speakers, turning them up as she began to play music. With the scene set, Alex retreated to her bed.

Sat atop her covers, legs crossed and pillow laid across her lap, she rested her hands on it palms up, and closed her eyes. Breathing slow, she let herself feel the weight of the air on her palms, feel the rush of breath in and out of her. She felt the buzzing of the molecules and then a spark, and she exhaled, her breath becoming thick and gray as the same smoke began to slowly roll from her palms and spill down the pillow onto her bed, eventually reaching the floor. From there it got easier, and the smoke spread faster, rising by itself off the floor and expanding, worming through the air in a way similar to lightning until Alex's entire bedroom, from wall to floor to wall to ceiling, was filled with her smoke. She moved the pillow from her lap and swung her legs over the edge of her bed, standing and pacing around her room. She swung her arms and watched as the smoke moved around her and then re-settled. She felt comfortable, and she moved her hand toward and away from her face, watching it disappear into the fog, her arm a fading stump.

Something banged on her window and she jumped, and the smoke instantly fell to the floor and dissipated immediately, no thought being held to its upkeep. Alex swallowed and breathed, the effort of sustaining her radius always surprising her. She moved over the window and peeled back the curtain, peering into the courtyard below. Oli was standing with his hands on his hips, nose scrunched as he looked up. He waved and pointed at the door, and then walked towards it as Alex disappeared from view.

-

He was in the apartment within 5 minutes and comfortable within ten, splayed out on the sofa as Alex fixed two cups of tea. She brought them over carefully, shooing his feet off the coffee table as she did so, and sat in a chair opposite. He sipped, blew, sipped again, smiled, and then put it down on a coaster. He looked up at Alex and grinned.
"I passed Kitty on the way." He said, and Alex groaned, dropping her head into her hands and peeking through her fingers. There was a smile there, Oli knew, but she was being melodramatic for the sake of amusement. "Know what you're wearing?"
Alex looked up. "No. Nothing too nice. I like him but I don't wanna seem..." Oli smirked. He knew what she meant. "But I can't just wear what I always wear, then it looks like I don't care at all. And my clubbing stuff is too slutty..." Oli gasped.
"Your clubbing fashion is hot as hell, girl. I know what you should wear." With that, Oli set his half-drained mug down on the table and jumped up, rushing to Alex's room. She raised an eyebrow and did the same.

She found him standing in front of her wardrobe, holding something she couldn't quite see. He turned and threw it at her and she saw that it was one of her shirts, a silver sheen one she wore on nights out. Oli bent down and opened a drawer, grabbing a bodycon skirt and throwing that at her as well.
"There you go. Black or silver pumps and some skimpy underwear and you'll do wonders. Classy, but the skirt makes your butt look hella good." Alex chuckled, and nodded, folding the ensemble and putting them on her bed.
"Lovely. You always come through for me, Oli." He shrugged and pretended to shoo off her compliment.
"It's what I'm here for. So what has he got planned for you two then?" He asked, and Alex knew that it addressed the specifics of the night and the broader situation. She shrugged in reply.
"He's cooking for me, apparently. No flatmates -" Oli raised his eyebrows and smirked, Alex grinning as she continued- "and he got an advance of weed from his dealer for a favour."
"Dumb dealer." Oli said, sniffing and leaving the room to get back to his unfinished mug of tea. Alex followed.
"Or a good favour." And they both chuckled.

-

Five'o'clock by the time Oli left, three mugs later. Kitty had come back at half past four and waved as she passed on the way to her room - she always studied for an hour after a lecture. Alex had received a text from Tré - who had also heard from Kitty, and who had wished her 'good luck' and a passing joke about her 'little sister growing up so fast' - and then gone back to her room, undressing and then taking a shower.

Half past five. Alex did her hair, taming it as much as she could without chopping bits off, and holding it in place with clips and hair spray, and then her makeup. Ten to six. She got dressed, tights, skirt, shirt - buttons, tuck in - shoes. She stepped out of her room back to the living area and stood infront of the full-length mirror Kitty had propped up against the wall. Oli was right, it did have an element of class. And the skirt did make her butt look good. Six'o'clock. Alex had a beer. Ten past six. She had some water. Quarter past. She went to the loo. Twenty. Twenty-five.

She jumped when Kitty cleared her throat from the doorway.
"Just go. You look great. If something like you turned up on my doorway a few minutes early, I probably wouldn't begrudge it too much."
Alex smiled. "That was almost something nice, Kitty." She remarked, and Kitty smiled back.
"Almost," she replied, "so leave before I have to balance it out." They chuckled. Alex left.

|_______Trial_by_Failure_______|
|____Starring:_Drake_Castle___|

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The Dellinger Residence; 3:45 PM

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Vvvvrrrrrrrooomm! The sound of my motorcycle was deafening as I blasted down the nigh-empty roadway. The clear blue sky stood out against the pavement, something I hadn't seen enough of lately. Between classes, homework, and having a life, the time I had to ride as free as a bird had been eaten like a plastic bag drenched in gasoline.

But enough complaining. For now, at least. My friend, scratch that, I meant classmate. My classmate Simon Dellinger is an uber nerd who wants me to use my 'super powers' to do something spectacular. And he doesn't seem to care that it involves me getting shot at. A lot.

Only god knows why, and he isn't telling, but for some reason I have a two-fold superpower. Using my willpower, I can speed up or slow down how fast other people's hearts beat. The other thing: I can release a gas that is like a temporary steroid from my pores. It's a curse, or so I'd like to think. Simon thinks it's a gift to sweat out steroids.

Seeing two hills, covered in trees on the roadside, interrupted my ride. Pulling over from the center of the road, I leaned into a narrow stone-paved driveway that was placed between the hills, and rolled down it's path for about a quarter mile. While following the path, I passed through a thick woods that just barely kept it's distance from the trail. The sun was hardly visible behind the treetops that hung over the course.

But then I saw the house. At the end of the drive, it looked like the light that people see at the end of tunnels. Bathed in golden sunshine, the manor looked like it could've housed the president, if not then at least the first lady when she needed a getaway. But, jeez, I mean there were pillars that held a pointed roof over the veranda. As I drove closer, unlike most most buildings in the city, it actually looked more appealing as I got closer. It felt like I was staring at a museum piece, like I should avoid touching it and instead simply try to recreate it on a pad of paper.

Tossing that instinct aside, I threw my legs over the seat of my bike and swung off the bike entirely, leaving it parked in a circular-designed stone driveway behind a Rolls-Royce, a Crossfire, and something that could only be summarized as a stryker. With eight wheels, a black paint job, and a shell of stacked plates, I couldn't help but get a closer look. Casually strolling towards it, I walked in front of it, only to be surprised by what I saw. The cockpit had room for one person, I always thought tanks and things needed a whole crew. I set my hand and felt the cool metal, sliding my hand against it's smooth, matte surface.

"Are you done, yet?" A familiar voice interrupted my experience with the most amazing car I'd ever seen, let alone touched. For that question, only one answer even starts to make sense. Coming from the doorway to his home, it continued to vex me, "You're just standing there, feeling my dad's car up."

"No," I said. "I haven't begun to feel this car up." I said, raising my head to look at Simon before pulling my hand and fingers off the armored urban vehicle. As I stepped away from it, and came up to a short set of stairs that grew narrower as I grew closer to the door, I asked the question that was on my mind. "Can we use that? I mean, if someone had that, and I were a criminal, I would so find a new job." As I finished approaching the door, Simon cocked his head and stuffed his tongue into his cheek before reluctantly answering.

"Nah. I thought about it myself, but my dad would recognize it in a heartbeat. It's too unique for anything, really, except openly blowing stuff up," he paused. "But I've got something that is far more useful at this point, anyways."

With a smile, he spun his fingers, motioning for me to follow him, as he turned around and ran through his house, dropping the door on me as I slipped through the comparatively miniature entryway to the gargantuan estate. As soon as I'd gotten around the door, I spotted Simon bolting down the narrow foyer, passing the grandiose lobby that resembled a ball room, and climbing a staircase on the right side that had a parallel one on the left. Once at the top, he stopped and looked back down at me.

"Come on, dude! I know for a fact that you can go faster than that," He playfully squealed as he rested at the top.

I could. At this point I was just jogging through the foyer, briefly admiring the many splashes of art on every wall. It was obviously carefully arranged so that it was awe inspiring every possible direction that one might turn their head, yet it majestically still managed to completely avoid a gaudy appearance. Psshh. Rich people.

Finally, I made my way through the lobby and up the stairs. I took each step with the infamous touch of a tortoise, easing slowly between steps and pretending it required a great deal of balance.

"Drake, hurry up! I'll give you a tour later. But hurry up for right now."

"Meh." Shrugging my shoulders, I gave in. "Why not." My feet rolled up the steps, cycling like a set of well oiled gears as my hand slid up the mahogany rail and my feet pushed off red carpet that lavishly covered the staircase. "I'm comin', Simon. Where are we going anyways?"

"The back," he said, leaving a hint of mystery in his words before he took off again, right as I reached the climax of the staircase.

He jogged towards a pair of doors that rested in between the parallel staircases on a small, yet elegant platform. Then, shoving both the doors in, made his way through a hall that had countless doors on either side until we came to another large ballroom. Following closely behind him, I watched as he took us to an elevator nested in the corner of the room.

"Going down," he said as the mechanical door spread open. With a mock curtsy, he jested "Ladies first."

As I stepped into the elevator I made a snarky comeback that obviously hit him harder than I meant for it too. "Dude, you couldn't get a lady if you tried. That's why you're in an elevator with me."

A look of shock came over Simon's face before he huffed and crossed his arms. He impatiently tapped his feet against the floor as he anxiously whispered a countdown to the ride's end. Then, the elevator dinged and the door made a puff as it spread from the wall. Aside from the bulb in the elevator, there wasn't a single source of light. But without a second thought, he cut in front of me and stepped into the expansive shadow. Smacking his hand against the nearest wall, he felt for a light switch before flipping it.

"Dude, where are we?" I asked with amazement saturating my words.

"Welcome to my basement." He plainly said, stepping out from my view of the large empty space. Everywhere I looked there was concrete so smooth that it looked like it had never been used. The only thing that made it believable that it was an actual basement was the fact that there was a car in pieces against one wall next to scattered tools.

"Is this what I think it is?" I asked, clasping my hands together and grinning hard. "A.. Bat-cave?"

"No," he said, bluntly disillusioning me. "That would be over here," he said, strolling towards a door in the corner opposite to this one.

The door he led me to was cast iron. Dense and visibly durable, Simon had to press his entire against it to press it forward. On the inside, a dulled lightbulb illuminated a small room of cobwebs, pipes, and water heaters against the wall. The floor was grated and had rails, keeping me and Simon about two feet away from the utilities on either side. With an obvious sense of direction, he opened one last door at the edge of the Boiler Room and showed me what looked like a living room, including a TV and couch.

"This is your Batcave," Simon said as he raised his arms. "This used to be a room for the butler to live in. But, since he moved out and my parents don't have a need to replace him, this has been empty for months. Admittedly it's an odd thing to do, building an apartment under a mansion, but mom and dad liked the idea. Down here, there are no doors, except for the bathroom and closets," he said, taking me through it. "You have a bedroom, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and a work space."

Taking me to a section of the apartment that resembled the main basement, he pointed around it and towards a garage-style door that was against it's farthest wall. "This is where I'd expect you to do most of your work. You can keep a costume, a car, trophies, and other stuff in here, as well as building things and.. research. Yeah, that's it, I think."

I would've responded, but I was too busy being impressed by the space.

"I even have a costume ready for you. And a van we can work in. Wanna' see them?"

Swallowing my saliva and forcing a stop to my grin, I whimpered, "Yes."