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Phantom bolted the instant that thing materialized. He was a little bitch, sure, but he was genre savvy enough to know when something could eat him asleep. He high-tailed it out of there faster than Sanic the Hegehorg. No way in hell he was gonna wait around for that thing: let the High deal with it if they pleased.

But the world didn't seem to care much for what he thought. He ran directly from one chaos to the next. Now it was Epics, a bunch of them. More than he'd ever seen fighting in one place. Two girls fighting a squad of other Epics. Looked like they were wearing masks, too. Did these folks not know when Halloween was? It wasn't today, that was for sure.

He recognized one of the Epics: it was that Flame-arm guy from that banquet! Alto, something or whatever. So by proxy, that probably meant the people fighting with him were the side he wanted to work with too.

Sure, whatever. If he ignored this and just woke up, he'd probably end up fighting some cyborg vampire alien. He just couldn't catch a break. "Fine," he muttered, and dove down, fading from view. No need to show them where he was: after that waterfront catastrophe where they blew holes in him, he didn't want to take any chances.

Being intangible ain't what it used to be, he sighed to himself, before sending a blast of psychich energy right toward the smaller, less curvy little girl's. He concentrated his power to a sphere the size of a tangerine, intending to smack the girl in the skull and then shoot by back into the air, into relative safety.

"Mmm," purred the woman, running a finger down Taron's bare chest. "Sounds wonderful, baby. Can't wait. You mind if I take off now for a bit? My mom's been calling all day. She just wants to make sure that you're being good to me."

"Oh," Taron said, his eyes darkening. "Does she think I would mistreat you?"

The woman shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, no! She's a real sweetheart, I promise. You know how moms are, right?"

"My mom...isn't around very much," Taron admitted, relaxing. "I'm sorry. It's kind of a sore subject." He sighed, content. "Sure, darling. Go ahead. Just pick up if I call you, all right? I'd like to make sure you're okay." He pulled her in close for a sizzling kiss, and then waved toward the door. "Say hi to your mom for me, would you?" He didn't really know the woman's mom, but he wanted to make a good first impression, in case this went anywhere.

The woman nodded with a lazy smile on her face, rolling off the bed to dress and brush her hair. When she looked presentable, she put her hands on her hips and glanced at him with a cheeky smile. "How do I look?"

"Like a vision out of heaven," he said, resting his head in his hands. "I'd definitely try to get your phone number at a bar." He pointed to the door, which swung open from a gentle breeze. "You don't want you mom to worry more, do you? We'll talk later, darling."

She stepped out of the apartment and blew him a kiss as the door closed. It was only once the door shut that the woman broke out into a sprint. Horrible, wretched sobs wracked her beautiful frame as her foot steps thudded down the hall. She hadn't lied: her mother had been calling her all day. After the man she had just slept with had broken into her parents home, confessed his love for her, and then blew her father up when he dared to open his mouth. His brain had been turned to mush, her mother said.

In my defense, Taron thought, he was pointing a gun at me.

He sighed contentedly and reclined further into his bed. Self defense was perfectly legal, wasn't it? He hoped the man would be all right: he hadn't hit him that hard. He'd just wanted to show her how much he loved the man's daughter. What was her name? He hadn't gotten it, damn it, but he had her phone number scrawled on a little piece of paper. That was a good start.
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