A Story of Rain and Hobos

Thunder echoed across the heavy, overcast grey sky, indicating heavy rain was coming. The hard, grey brown masonry of the old quarter was as dull and lifeless as the lost souls that moved to and from this tough, neglected neighbourhood. The narrow roads and narrower alleys, along with the medium and high rise buildings made it feel like a box, closing in, suffocating. This was that part of the city where it was good to have a gun... or be metahuman. There was no law here, only survival of the fittest.

Most of the buildings were dark, dilapidated... the inside walls gutted of wires, leaving wounds in the buildings interior. Graffiti covered almost every square foot of wall, speaking of drugs, gangs, violence, sex, murder and god... or the absence of him.

Diana wanders these streets; they’re the same as any other in other cities. These are the places where one goes to hide, to be forgotten. She had long since traded her pink sportswear and bags, her designer shoes and other such things for nondescript, second hand clothes from thrift stores, covered in a great and dull black rain coat. She constantly carried the Blood Drinker inside a large leather case.

She entered one of the few remaining convenience stores and realized only upon paying that her funds had already dried up.

“Sorry kid. No cash no food. You can only afford one of em.” He said plainly.

She was used to buying the gourmet sandwiches and expensive milk tea drinks, but instead she was reduced to a choice between them. She had managed her finances poorly, and now that she was cut off from her parents she struggled to get by without having to resort to violence, and it was beneath her to use her weapons for petty crime... until she grew hungry that is.

Diana paid for the milk tea in a bottle and left, her gaze lingering on the register for a few seconds. She knew the store struggled to get by, and had been robbed a few times; the owner was already an aging old man with poor eyesight, and her weapon would choke on his weak blood.

“He has what you need, take it.” The Ancient Warrior spirit manifested on the street outside, as Diana left the store, passers by walking through the spectre.

“No... it’s not worth the effort, stealing from the weak. I thought you only wanted to fight worthy opponents?” She replied, mentally.

“When the thirst is upon me, I do not discriminate princes from paupers, Diana. You are still clinging to such trivial morality. Such things are beneath you.” The Ancient Warrior said.

“Have a little dignity.” She retorted, the spectre vanishing from sight.

A peal of thunder cracked across the sky, and a sudden torrent of rain cascaded down onto the earth. Diana cursed as there was no shelter to be had around, except ducking down a canopied alley filled with vagrants... hobos. The assorted men and women of advanced age and declining hygiene made Diana extremely uncomfortable, but they had a fire going and had food donated to them by Wong Enterprises. Diana knew that tech company for its charity work. Given a choice of a warm street or the cold, driving rain, she decided to stay.

“Well if it ain’t little miss gourmet sandwiches and milk tea. What’s the matter prodigal daughter, did you finally spend your inheritance?” The fat Hobo with the bottle of Jack Daniels near Diana sneered with a biblical reference, seeing her pass through many times with her convenience store food, and not once sparing him some change.

Diana recoiled slightly. “Sh...shut up...” She also recognized the man. He disgusted her in general, a beggar and a vagrant who had little to do but ask for aid for others.

“Well now... rude are we, Princess?” He said, slowly staggering to his feet.

Diana was about to defend herself with a knife when the man in the black Cossack at the end of the alley called them both out. “Hey. Both of you can leave if you don’t behave!”

“Sorry, Reverend.” The man apologized, seeing as he was getting his next meal from the man of the cloth. “...Uh... welcome I guess, and sorry.”

Diana ignored the beggar and hastily went to the Reverend, seeing the people around eating out of cans. “Who are you?” She asked.

“The name is Reverend Don Earlman, my dear, the last priest in this entire neighbourhood for the last twenty years. You don’t look like you belong her. Where are your parents?” He asked, giving an old lady in a dirty coat and a torn up Spurs hat.

“I...I... ran away... my parents are no good. I’ve run out of money...” Diana said, not wanting to give the priest any clue of who she was.

“Well, take a seat my dear. All are welcome here. Are you hungry? Please feel free to take a can and heat it on the fire...Beans.... Mackerel... Spam... Tuna... Corn... you name it, the lord provides all, through the generosity of the Mega Corporation living over yonder tower of Babylon.”

Diana looked over to where Reverend Earlman pointed to, the Wong Enterprises tower jutted over the Chicago skyline. Sleek, metallic and imposing, the Enterprise headquarters stood out like a throne of power, a next generation skyscraper floating over its predecessors, where the elite wielded influence to change the world.

And here she was, sitting alongside Hobos having a can of... something... wet... creamy... meaty... with bits of green things floating around. The labels were removed so she did not know exactly what it was. She set it on the grill above the fire, to let it heat up. There was going to be no death today; it was one of those days Diana thought about what she was doing, and slowly building up sickness at the blood she’d spilled.

The cascading downfall of the rain seemed to drown out most sounds, the pitter patter of water quite loud as the storm only seemed to get worse with each passing second. Thunder cracking in the sky and lightning flashed constantly, it was as if Zeus the king of Olympus was fighting with Thor the god of thunder high in the sky. Pitter patter that was all Marcus could really hear as the rain slammed down upon his black bowler hat, the water pooled on the sides of his hate before spilling out the front creating a miniature waterfall in front of his hazel eyes obscuring the world around him. His black trench coat coming quite handy as it helped keep him dryer than most, the collar popped up blocking the back of his neck from the cold water falling down.

Marcus liked the rain as it seemed to cancel out all the sounds of the crazy world that so many seemed so comfortable in, the nasty smells of garbage, people, cars, were all washed away by the downpour. And for just a little while the world would smell fresh after the rain was ended before it was tainted by humans once again. If Marcus had his way the world would always be covered in a storm and rain would be the forecast for the rest of time, some thought it dreary but they just didn’t know how to have any fun he thought to himself. Speaking of fun the reason for his walk on this dreary day was boredom, Marcus found himself with nothing to do, he was tired of boredom, it was like an infectious disease that struck the second he could.  

“Rain, rain, rain, oh rain!” his voice rang out through the sound of the rain echoing in the alley loudly, it was a terrible voice for singing sounding as though someone were being tortured, the voice screechy and perhaps a bit high pitched as he tried to bring some length to the words. The added bonus or flaw being a thick irish accent,  “why can’t you stay?!” his hand shot up towards the sky as he looked up at it beseechingly as if he were truly speaking to the rain through his terrible singing. “So cool and fresh, the world is better off with you raining down upon it, please won’t you stay, please don’t go away!” his voice cracking as he tried to go for a high pitch sound with the last word, he began walking after the last word.

His voice echoing off the walls of the alley drawing the attention of many, “shut yer mouth you screeching fool” he heard a voice yell out at him causing him to pause. “Now now ya can’t be interrupting a man when he’s singing that’s just plain rude” Marcus said with that heavy irish accent of his. His voice not so terrible when he was speaking normally, it had a rough charming edge to it “not finishing a song brings bad luck and I don’t need bad luck” he said before walking passed the man and getting back to his singing if you could call his caterwauling singing. “I wish upon a star that the rain will never be held at bay!” his voice echoed off the alley walls as he walked deeper into the camp of the homeless people.

The song was done and Marcus smiled though the smile never quite reached his eyes, the happiness that showed upon his face nothing more than a mask that was meant to keep others from feeling uncomfortable. His black booted feet making only a bit of noise as he made his way towards the biggest gathering of the homeless around the fire, his jeans also black worn down over time as he enjoyed how comfortable they were. Everything black except for the overly bright solid orange tee shirt underneath his trench coat, why wear something so bright with all that blackness? The answer was rather simple because it was different from everything else.

“A pleasure to meet you all, the name’s Johnny Mckinnley” he said as he swept off his black bowler hat revealing a mess of dark brown just long enough to run your fingers through. “I hail from the great Ireland and no I don’t have anything to drink on me” he said with a light laugh following “I’ll be staying around these parts for a bit looking for something important”. He was rather nonchalant with his lie as he took a seat next to a rather ragged looking old woman and on the other side was a young woman who looked like she didn’t belong. “You look like a cat in a pack of dogs little miss” he said off handedly as he put his hands towards the fire as if he needed to warm up, he had to at least appear to be human like this people.

Anytown, America in somewhere Chicago it wasn’t the best place in the world but it wasn’t the worst place to be either. Sure the narrow roads and narrower alleys, along with the medium and high rise buildings with their brown hues that looked darker than dark and the downpour from the rain certainly wasn’t helping the town’s appearance. But, Darren was sure in the daytime the place was bustling with people going from place to place trying not to get killed or get mugged! Stopping his running pace down to a slow walk the five foot six, sixteen year old boy took his book-bag off his back zipping it up as tight as he could while still able to have the sword handle stick out the top. He didn’t want anything inside the bag to get wet, as they were the only things he owned, but he also couldn’t fully zip the bag because his sword kind of stuck out the top of it.

Shaking his wet hair he got ready to take off running once again only to be stopped by the loud bellowing of thunder and lightning striking in the not too distant well distance. From where he was standing it looked as if the lighting struck down not even three miles away “Sheez…some storm this is, last time I listen to John about coming to Chicago.” The shirtless Australian muttered underneath his breath putting his book-bag back on to his back before he took off running again, not as fast as he could run because he didn’t feel like tripping in the rain but it was just fast enough so that most people would only see him as a sort of blur…even if they took the time to really look at him they could probably see him. He wasn’t that fast, he was no Jack Maroon… Yet.

After a little bit of running through the god forsaken, or God protected or gang protected or whoever’s graffiti you took to believe, city Darren found himself ducking down into a canopied alley filled with other people all huddled around a couple of fires that had been built in about two or three trash cans. Having lived on the streets himself for the past four years or so these were the types of crowds Darren was used to seeing. He didn’t get the nickname the Talons Hobo Kid for nothing. Shaking the water out of his hair once more he walked further into the alley making his way over to the nearest fire. Squeezing in between two people to get at the heat source he placed his hands near the flame to try and warm himself up. “Sorry ‘bout squeezing in like this, but you know need a bit of heat to warm me up after running through all that rain.”

The rain wasn’t really cold to Darren at all, in fact he had walked miles in snow up in Canada during winter at one point and didn’t even notice until he came to a little diner type place. But that was a story for a different time and it didn’t matter because these people didn’t know that Darren wasn’t cold and was simply trying to get some of the water heated off his shirtless, shoeless body. Which after standing there for a good five minutes he noticed the arrival of two more to the ‘gathering’ if only because the first was a somewhat attractive girl who caught the attention of not one but two of the others, one being a reverend it seemed, and the other person. Well the other person was quite loud and made himself known to everyone. He was Darren’s kind of guy.

Hopping down next to the aforementioned female Darren grinned at what the loud man said. “He’s got a point, you don’t exactly look like you would be the type to hang around here with us. Aren’t we a little too icky for you…Princess? That your name? I heard the other guy call you that. Can’t be a real princess though can you, otherwise you’d be off living in some castle or mansion with your British butlers waiting on you hand and foot. Not stuck here hoping to get out of the rain and for someone to come save you from the big bad monsters.” Blah, blah, blah blah blah, there he went blabbering off…always seemed to do that around girls.

((I'm a little rusty, but here goes nothing))

A shadowy form hopped from rooftop to crumbling rooftop as the the torrent of rain beat down on it's body. From the ground it would have just looked like a black blur because of the rain and the speed it moved through it. When it reached the edge of the next roof it deftly flipped over the edge and slid down the side of the building. As it reached the bottom it drew the attention of some passersby. It was a boy, or at least looked like one, around 15, he was wearing tight leather jacket with a black shirt under it and pair of dark, and now soaked, jeans as well as a pair of worn black work boots; as well as a bag containing what looked like shredded black spandex. If it wasn't already an odd sight for this part of the town, the fact that he had pointed furry ears sticking out of his head and a black furry tail. He shook the water out of his shaggy brown hair, but the rain quickly replaced it.

The boy sighed, and looked around himself. He was in a dark alley, trash strewn about. He smirked, even though the rain was more harsh than he preferred it was the only thing keep the stench of the place bearable for someone with his heightened senses. His eyes darted left and right scanning the area as he left the garbage filled alley behind him. As he walked down the streets at a steady pace he ignored the looks he got from the destitute denizens of the forsaken section of the city. Though he still wanted to try and fit in among he humans he had accepted that the stares and grimaces he were never going to go away. His nose wrinkled as he passed a particularly rank garbage can.

He looked down at the bag that held the shredded remains of what was once his suit. He dug through it and pulled part of it out, the material was barely holding together and was riddled with bullet holes. He didn't even want to remember how it happened. Getting caught off guard by a human was bad enough, getting caught off guard by a human with a submachine gun and taking most of the clip was even worse. As much as he didn't want to admit there was no fixing the suit he knew it wasn't happening. He tossed the bag into the next garbage can he saw, but it fell off the overloaded top. Not that it made the street even dirtier, he doubted that was even possible.

He continued walking and felt his stomach rumble. He hadn't eaten since he ran out of money and got kicked out of the motel he was staying in. His ears perked up, he could hear people talking in the distance and (barely) made out the smell of some kind of food over the garbage. He doubted there would be anything for him, but decided to change his course just in case. When he arrived he saw a large assortment of all kinds of people surrounding a fire, but a specific few caught his eye. A girl who simply didn't look like she belonged, a loud Irishman in a bowler, but most of all a shirtless boy with a backpack that had part of a sword sticking out of it. He walked up to them, not sure how any of the people would react to a newcomer. "Sorry if I'm not welcome, but I smelled some food, is there any more?"

The rain somehow only increased in its intensity, a veritable curtain of water now flowing down the front of the alley from the makeshift tarp canopy. Given that Diana’s demeanor scared off the hobos from the comfy bench she sat on, said bench was the only open space left in the alley, and if the new arrivals wanted to sit they’d naturally gravitate towards the young lady.

“Come on in Johnny. You also catholic by any chance? Please sit, have some food if you’d like.” He gestured for Marcus to come in out of the rain, and offered him a can of food. It wasn’t long before another oddball came in, shirtless.

“Please come in we’ve got... a little more room. You want some clothes or shoes kid? Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold now, do we?” The Priest eyed Darren a bit warily, seeing the sword on his back. Nonetheless his calling demanded he handed the Australian teenager a nice, thick hand knitted sweater. “You hungry?” The priest asked as he also gave Darren an obligatory can. He had already opened it and Darren got Chili Con Carne.

A third figure, the Shadow Wolf, came in shortly thereafter, the priest never ending in generosity. The boy came near him and asked for food, precisely what the priest was here for. “Sure kid. The cans don’t have labels though... ah...” The priest grabbed a can and removed its top using the pull tab. “Well you’re in luck my friend. Pink Salmon. Like winning the lottery here.” He showed it to Wolf and gave it to him to do as he pleased, the hobos around muttering as if he’d won a great prize.

The first two boys seemed to gravitate towards the girl, mostly because she had the last free bench in the alley. “Well, looks like the little runaway is popular. Play nice boys, everybody here’s has a not so happy story... But maybe a little music by The King can help.” He put out his iPhone and put on some Aloha Oui by Elvis.
Diana eyed these three new odd individuals who came in

“I... um...” She didn’t have much to say to Marcus. She was not in the mood to be told to leave by a priest, and definitely not in the mood for random violence.

Darren’s weapons caught her eyes the most, but a quick appraisal made her feel the sword he carried was next to worthless compared to the weapons she carried in her shadows. It remained to be seen if he was a worthy opponent.
“Actually... Princess is my first given name... though most people call me Diana.” She answered Darren’s first question, mostly to stop him from blathering on further. Maybe being a little social will quiet them down. She even teared up a little for ‘dramatic’ effect. “I... I ran away from home.... I found out my mom was my dad’s mistress... I thought they were having an affair... but mom and I are the affair!” She covered her mouth slightly as she started to sob, acting like a defenceless teen girl who’d found out a horrible secret about her parents.

The Warrior Spirit manifested nearby and crossed her arms, amused at the sight of her host practicing her deception. She eyed the two speaking with her, assessing them like a predator would.

Unknowingly, the priest’s gaze was drawn towards the spirit’s general direction.

The two that arrived shortly after him were not exactly the most normal looking of people but he had seen odder before, one was actually carrying a weapon which definitely made him interesting. People who usually saw a weapon weren’t thinking that made them interesting, they considered them dangerous but Marcus was not most people. The other looked rather normal with his leather jacket which made him boring in Marcus’s eyes, out of all of them so far the sword guy seemed to be the most interesting he thought to himself.

“Catholic? Me?” he asked in a playful way with his heavy accent, “good god no” he said with a laugh following as if he had made a good joke. “I don’t tend to believe or disbelieve in anything good sir” he said with a crooked smile, “one cannot prove that a god or gods exist and neither can one disprove that they do not exist”. Marcus shrugged his shoulders “religion for me is nothing more than a tool used by those in charge to gain notoriety and money, I do not dislike religion itself but organized religion is far too corrupt these days” he said rather calmly. “Spirituality is preferred for me, why do you need to believe in a certain thing rather than just believing in yourself? Do what you think is right and good things should come along” he said cheerfully as he looked into the fire.

He held up his hand towards the priest “I’ll need nothing to eat managed to scrounge something up earlier” he lied with ease, he needed no food, no water, no air for he was no longer human. Marcus had to imitate breathing so people wouldn’t wonder why he was just sitting still as a statue, “I joined up with this little band for something rather specific” he smiled once again. “Amusement, the world is filled with boredom and amusement is the only thing that can combat it, I figured there might be something interesting amongst others rather than by myself”. Marcus looked around the area and found himself a bit disappointed by the majority of the homeless here, they were so normal and beat down it was like there was nothing they could do but accept it.

The young woman was answering questions now, her name was actually princess which was a bit strange but hey everyone had a different name. Her eyes began to tear up and her voice grew distraught as she explained her circumstances for running away, unlike most Marcus had no sympathy to give because he didn’t really care about her sob story. In this world everyone had some kind of sob story but that didn’t mean you had to tell everyone about it, “what’s the big deal then little lady?” he asked in a rather curious tone. “That happens every day in this world and it’s not like it hurts ya physically, why not just ignore what they did and live your life the way you want?” Marcus wasn’t trying to be insensitive it was just the way he was.

“Clothes? Shoes? Nah, don’t need none of that probably would just lose it anyway. Not too great with keeping up with my stuff and all. But…food, yea I could totally go for some food. Thanks Pops.” Darren said in appreciation to the priest, taking the canned food with a nod of his head taking the sweater anyway not wanting to upset the good Father, Priest, Pastor, whichever he was called and placed it on the hilt of his sword covering up the only part of said sword that was sticking out of his book-bag. Getting back onto his train of thought, or back on track in Darren’s mind at least, he knew the Pastor said something to the loud man about being Catholic and if he was right Catholic’s called their Holy Men Father. That and Priest, so he was going to assume that calling this man by either terms or something along those lines would be a-okay.

He was just about to go off on something else when the priest said to play nice, and then of course Miss Princess finally caught up with the rest of the world. She went off to explain that her actual birth given name was in fact Princess but everyone of course just called her Diana. That earned a chuckle from the sword wielding shirtless sixteen year old Australian. “So, you’re Wonder Woman then? Always wanted to meet a famous Comic Book Character, that I did.” He shot the sentence out with a smile, trying to brighten the sour mood, only for it to be made sadder moments later with the rest of her story.

It would appear that Princess Diana ran away from home because she found out her mum and pop weren’t exactly truthful when it came to the real story of what was going on. Instead of mom and dad having an affair with other people her dad was married to some other gal and was having an affair with her. Scratching his head trying to understand if he got it alright even if he was about ninety percent sure there was more to the story than what she was giving out. “I hate to say it but I’m with the Irish guy on this one little Double W. Finding out your dad ain’t exactly who he says he is isn’t the best reason to run away from home. Although I guess shouldn’t be much of one to talk on the subject of parents or running away.”

Australian accent bleeding through with every word he spoke the boy gave a small sigh and put his hands closer to the fire as he downed his can of Chili Con Carne while reminiscing. He had been born to two parents who he never knew, raised in an orphanage until he was thirteen. Ran away around that time and then three years later he wounded up in good old America after a series of unfortunate events. But even then there was always a smile on his face.  If only because to Darren Cross the entire world was a joke, it was all a big game and he wasn’t playing to win. He was playing to simply have fun.

Speaking of which while everyone was preoccupied with Little Wonder Woman’s stories and or talking back and forth he closed his eyes for half a second. Upon reopening them they flashed grey and to Darren’s mind the world started to seem as if it was slowing down. Moving at paces that would seem slow even to a snail, while in reality his body was picking up speed as he started to move at super human speeds. Moving from one place to the other the hyper active Meta-human with ADHD ran from place to in the alley. Taking in every tiny little detail, wanting to know all the secrets it held while being careful not to slip on the water from the rain. Only to return to his seat a mere ten to fifteen seconds later as if nothing happened. “Hmm…Chili stuff was good.”

((I'm trying to get this done before I go to bed so it's going to be short))

Jared took the can from the priest and smiled. Rather than sit by the girl as the others had he leaned against a wall and quickly wolfed down the canned fish, not even bothering to heat it first and then let out a sigh of contentment. It wasn't going to hold him over for long, but it was enough for now. He ignored the talk of the others for a bit and drifted off in his head. Here he was in a human city completely out of money. Normally he was fine financially, but his work as a web designer had hit a rut. He was getting homesick as well. He snapped himself out of it when Diana started talking about why she was here. He pitied her, but agreed with the others. As bad as it was, It wasn't worth running away over, especially to a place like this. It was no place for a girl her age.  "So that explains why you aren't home, but why are you here? This isn't exactly the safest place around, especially for a young girl such as yourself."

He chuckled slightly. He was lecturing her about running away from home, when he had done almost the same exact thing only a few years ago. He stood up straight and walked away from the wall he had been leaning against to throw the can away. However when he walked past Diana he noticed something that took him a moment to place. Blood. It was very faint, but he could smell the smallest trace of it. He grew worried for a moment, but then realized that it was probably from whoever had those clothes before her. Or perhaps she had been hurt recently.

As he walked back to where he had been standing he saw Darren had covered the part of the sword sticking out his pack with the sweater the priest had given him. "So, out of curiosity, what's with the sword? I mean people carrying around swords on their backs isn't a very common sight."

Diana looked at Marcus, having no words for his attitude, outwardly displaying disgust but deep down reckoning him to be some kind of amoral fellow with no empathy. Boredom? Amusement? Diana felt a sudden but hidden need to put the man into his place. Of course, restraint; she ignored Marcus’s comment, appearing like a girl completely unable to answer such an uncaring man.

Darren proved to be slightly more sympathetic, but Diana was quite curious about him, wondering if he had the skill to wield that sword. She barely even touched her food at that point, while the others were digging in. “Actually... I was named after Princess Diana, the Princess of Wales. I heard she was a nice lady, but died in a car crash. But Yeah, being named after wonder woman is something...” Diana fell quiet, a bit evasive of their statements, suddenly realizing she had a very weak reason to run away.

The Reverend however, strode over, eating a cup of hot, steamy instant ramen, and encouraged Diana to open up. “Boy’s got a point. Just because your parents do something behind your back, doesn’t change the fact they give you a bed, a roof, and food. Unless they did something to you, specifically to make you run.”

Diana responded to the Reverend’s prompt. “They did, Reverend. It’s pretty obvious where my mom and dad were going to go. I heard them; they’ll just ditch me when I turn 18. They’ll give me some cash for college then kick me out, and then they’ll go live in Italy. And... that’s not even what they would really do. Mom is having another affair with her photographer... She’s like, so messed up. She doesn’t even cook me stuff to eat at home.” She explained, before letting out a sigh and hunching over in apparent depression.

“So I ditched them first. Grabbed some money and ran away... except, I really didn’t know that 2,000 dollars could run out so fast. I... I’m here because I don’t have anywhere else to go... I was hungry, and lost... and I even threw away my phone so my good for nothing mom couldn’t find me...” She explained, then trailed off.

Reverend Earlman stroked his grizzled chin, and shaking his head, turning around to face the others.. “That’s... just cold, isn’t it? Parents are supposed to be the people a child trusts the most in this wide, wide world. Breaks my heart to hear what kind of people were blessed... with such a special and smart gal...” The Reverend paused, looking at Diana and laying his hand on her head... He noticed she was still quite clean and well maintained for a runaway. He also noticed how she tensed when he touched her, like she was ready to jump him, not appearing tired at all. He felt there was definitely something more to the girl who was being followed by an ancient Persian female warrior spirit.

“Well, maybe not that smart... runaway with only 2000 smackers? But yeah, I know plenty of other couples who wish they could have children. Life on the run is tough ain’t it? I know a foster home nearby, and some good people that’ll take you in.” He asked, not wanting to give away that he could see her spirit companion.

“I... I don’t think I want to go to such places, Reverend.” She said, in a bit of a hoarse voice. That answer was not unexpected for the Catholic priest. He left Diana to her own devices after that.

After eating, one of the beggars lent him a bottle of liquor and he took a deep drink. “...My old friend, Jack... what am I dealing with now...” he muttered, seeing the bottle of Jack Daniels, his old friend.

He turned to the boys, giving them some attention. “So, What about the rest of you smelly heathens? What brings you around here? The Irish says he’s bored, and he’s also an agonstic. I don’t have much more to ask about that... but these other two weirdos, I mean, lost souls, what brings you to my part of the world? Come to think of it none of you look that much older than Princess Diana, Rose of England over here. Do I have to call a foster care for all of you?”

Well well mister no shirt with a sword was a little more interesting as he had agreed with Marcus, usually when Marcus gave his honest opinion on something a lot of people would disagree with him because his honest opinion was rather insensitive or cold in the eyes of others. It seemed that the shirtless male couldn’t keep himself still as if he were a hyperactive child, for a bit he disappeared completely and Marcus found it difficult to keep track of him. He was quite the fast thing Marcus thought to himself as he lost sight of him more than a couple of times, it didn’t take too long for him to go back to his seat as if nothing at all had happened.

For all of his different ways of using his ability Marcus would never be able to achieve the speed that the hyperactive young man had. Now his attention was focused mostly on him as he seemed to be the most interesting out of the lot, Marcus reached into one of the pockets of his trench coat to grab something and pull it out. What he pulled out was a silver and very shiny pocket watch with a gold chain which Marcus held onto, it looked brand spanking new and shined even in the dim light of the fire. He swung it back and forth towards Darren as if he were hypnotizing him and then suddenly Marcus launched the watch over Darren’s head farther into the alley to see what he would do.

The worst that happened was Marcus just lost a watch that he had stolen but if he had to guess correctly the speedy hyperactive young man would be able to catch it without much of a problem seeing as Marcus had held his strength in check. Since he had thrown the pocket watch he was no longer interested in it, he kept his peripheral vision on the spot where the young man should reappear if he decided to go after the watch which sailed through the air. His main focus was now on the girl and the priest who were speaking to each other about problems and solutions to those problems, “parents are the ones most likely to betray you” Marcus said softly.

“It’s almost like it’s been ingrained into their DNA” he said as he spoke loud enough for all to hear, “in a way it’s understandable because we their children betray them first”. He smiled as he looked into the fire “they expect us to grow up a certain way in their mind even if they don’t say anything about it, a thought is always in the back of their mind”. He looked up from the fire with eyes that had no bottom, there was no joy, no pain, no emotion at all in those hazel eyes of his, “they wonder why couldn’t my child have been like me” he spoke knowingly. “And once they realize that you aren’t going to be like them they wonder if they are going to be surpassed, stories from ancient times depict children taking their parents place” he smiled as he remembered something.

“The only way to avoid the pain of emotions is to expect the worst in people because the majority of the time people are not good” this was something he was very experienced in. “There are good people out there this I know but as a whole the human race is not a good thing, if they aren’t wiped out by the earth or some crazy thing they’ll just end up destroying themselves” he said as if it was a matter of fact. “All in all Diana you should have expected your parents to want to get rid of you, look at the facts once you hit a certain age parents try to push you out whether it is college or a career, one way or another they would have shipped you off even if they loved you as much as they possibly could”. He drew in a fake breath before continuing “unless they wanted you to live with them forever and in that case it’s scary as that is not the natural order at all, those are the ones that have to lean upon their children for strength because they cannot stand on their own”.

Sitting in his seat as if nothing happened, and to most people it even appeared as if he hadn’t moved at all which is kind of exactly what Darren wanted, the boy tapped his fingers repeatedly on the empty ‘seat’ next to him. The boy with the weird ears spoke to Darren and was asking about the sword on his back which made Darren blink. “Sword? What sword I don’t have a sword on my ba-Oh! You mean the sword hilt sticking out of the top of my book-bag right? It’s totally just there for self-defense and to scare off any would be muggers and the like.” It wasn’t a terrible lie, and to be quite honest it really was used to defend himself, just not exactly in the way he had described it. But wolfie didn’t need to know that.

Darren’s mind was just about wander off into its own little world when the older man, but not the priest the loud one, dropped a shiny old watch in front of his face. Eyes immediately fixated on it the shirtless boy watched as it moved back and forth a couple of times as if Loud Man, whose name he didn’t know, was attempting to hypnotize Darren. Which just because the thing was shiny totally didn’t mean….and he was stuck watching it move back and forth, back and forth. Only for the pocket watch to be thrown over his head and at that point Darren’s hand shot up into the air snagging the watch out of the air. Laughing in amusement Darren tossed the watch back to the man.

“Hey don’t throw your watch away like that, it’s a nice and shiny watch could totally be helpful in telling time or even hypnotizing people if that’s what you are into. Not that I’m saying it works or anything…or even that you hypnotized me, because you totally different, I just like shiny things….and I’m distracted easily.” With that the boy blunder shut up and came back into the conversation that was at hand, specifically the part coming from the now drinking priest who asked something about what the other two weirdoes were doing in his neck of the woods. Which that of course didn’t sit too well with Darren; he wasn’t that weird and as a priest he had no right to judge anybody or get drunk for that matter. Darren didn’t like drunks.

Moving at superhuman speeds once more he raced over to the Priest, grabbed the bottle out of his hands and ‘lightly’ tossed it onto one of the make shift beds in the alley before returning to his seat next to the Princess. “I may be weird but at least I’m not a Priest trying to get drunk.” The shirtless Australian stated matter of factly. “As for why I’m here, to get out of the rain duh. Although I assume you want the long story like Wonder Woman gave. Welp, I’m Australian born to two saps I never met thrown in an orphanage and then ran away at thirteen. Now I’m here three years later.” He grinned at how short his ‘long’ story was, as much as he liked to talk these people he just met didn’t need to hear his life story. He was on the streets long enough to know that.

“Name is Darren Cross by the way and I’d much rather you didn’t call foster care, not exactly what you people would call a ‘legal immigrant’. Although if you think about it none of you are really legal either at least that’s what the history books and teachers at the orphanage all said. If I remember any of that right…” Grinning from ear to ear Darren took his empty can of Chile and tossed it into the fire. He wanted to see what would happen when it burned was all.

((Guys, I think I'm going to have to drop from the thread, I'm getting an error when I try and connect to the site and I don't want to hold you guys up from getting this done before the end time. And I'm not going to try and do a whole post from my phone. Just this much is bad enough))

“Fair enough. I want to help whoever I can... but not at the cost that we’d be wasting social services’ time with people who’d run away. But that’s great optimism in life Irish. You must be the life of the party wherever you go.” The Reverend said, shrugging, going back to his bottle for a second, before hearing her out.

“Well... If there are good parents, my middle school classmates have them, not me. One thing’s for sure, I’m just a loose end to them. Mom never liked me showing up in the news labelled as her daughter. I just don’t know what’s next...” Diana said, in a weary resignation.

“Well... I for one think you should look for a reason... your own... to keep going. Your parents didn’t deserve you, but you sure as heck deserve a chance. God put each and everyone here on this green earth for a purpose. Why, if I hadn’t crawled out of that cave back in Afghanistan, legs broken, one eye blind, starving and dying of thirst, you probably wouldn’t be enjoying those warm cans of food right about now.” He said, his tone becoming much more energetic, perhaps wilful, once he invoked the almighty.

“Thanks reverend, but I’m... not big on religion... no one ever introduced me.” Diana said, just to be polite.

“Well... I’m not going to make you buy anything, but it is my job to advertise.” He said. Back to the bottle of Jack Daniels.

Once Reverend Earlman started to take a drink from the bottle of Jack, Darren came over, at superhuman speeds, causing the hobos around to look at him, as seemed to try and reach for it. They start muttering among themselves, a few running out into the rain. Much to everyone’s surprise, the Reverend seemed able to keep up with Darren’s speed, moving in a blur with him. He tries to get a sip, but eventually without focusing on avoiding Darren’s grabs, he loses the bottle.

“Hey! What’d you do that for kid?” He asked, in a sincere state of shock.

Now, the bottle flew at a quick trajectory, but Diana managed to catch it right before it hit the bed, demonstrating that she too was no ordinary runaway. An awkward silence fell over the alley as she put it down gently, then asked the Swordsmaster. “...Darren, your speed... are you one of those metahumans?” She demonstrated curiosity rather than fear, which meant she'd been around potentially dangerous beings before.

“...Well I’ll be. It looks like we have two more special persons coming to Earlman’s fellowship.” The priest grinned at Darren, as well as Diana. Their movements were anything but normal. He could feel he had a few exceptional people around.

“Reverend! Are they gonna start breathing fire or something?!” One of the Hobos stood up, and spoke in a slurred voice, his attention seemingly everywhere.

“...damned hobo with Alzheimers. No Morty, just relax, nobody’s going to breath fire, shoot spikes, puke tentacles or turn out to be zombie robots. We’re all the same here; just people. people who got nowhere to go, nobody to care about them.” The Reverend said, trying to calm down the man. More and more hobos left, until a few remained.

It was around this revelation that the rain had slowed down to a drizzle, the sun beginning to peek through the clouds, casting dim beams of light onto the streets. The unrelenting rain weakened and people’s voices were much clearer now. Diana looked up at Darren with renewed interest... and not the good kind.

Well while Marcus had been expecting Darren to shoot off into the alley but Darren shattered those expectations with surprising reflex speed, that hand shot up without warning and caught the watch that Marcus had thrown. Marcus’s suspicions were confirmed as he watched this, he caught the watch without even glancing at the speedy young man, he slipped it into his pocket wondering what else Darren could do. “I suppose it is a nice watch, I do wonder how often the former owner actually used it though, cell phones have made those rather obsolete even though the pocket watch definitely looks much better” he said with a little smile.

Darren’s speed was once again put on display as he took the bottle of alcohol from the reverend’s hand and threw it to the side towards one of the make shift beds. Diana there showed off she had a bit of skill as well as she managed to snatch the bottle out of the air like it was nothing, there was something a little odd about this young woman. She told a sob story in the beginning but she didn’t really feel sincere, she seemed to recover from things rather quickly for someone who looked like they were ready to breakdown earlier. Diana asked if Darren was a meta human and then things got a bit noisy as the homeless around them questioned whether or not they were safe and if they would show off some crazy powers.

It seemed that the reverend there could not manage to calm them down and they left one by one until things were much quieter which fine with Marcus. The storm seemed to have dissipated for the most part which was a bit disappointing, the sun began to shine through the clouds as they began to break up. “Well the rain has gone!” he suddenly belted out in his terrible singing voice “and the sun has come again!” if singing could kill Marcus would have killed everyone that could hear the awfulness of his voice. “The rain creates an arch of beauty that all can see, there be a pot of gold at the end of this beauty!” his hand shot up towards the sky where a faint but noticeable rainbow was visible.

He suddenly stopped singing “did you know there is a tale that if you can manage to capture a leprechaun that they have to grant you three wishes for their release?” he asked in a curious tone. “The movies called the leprechaun were just terrible compared to the true myths of leprechauns, made them appear to crazy little psychopaths that kill so many people for their gold, he was rather creepy looking”. He shivered as he remembered the ugly little creature from the movie “would rather have a stereotypical looking leprechaun for sure” he said adamantly.

(Blah short.)

“Don’t like drunks.” Darren answered the priest matter of factly. Except he wasn’t exactly focused on the fact that the priest had been drinking only a short time ago. Now he was more focused on the fact that said priest had been capable of keeping up with him, and that Princess Diana had somehow caught the bottle of Jack Daniels out of the air as easily as Darren himself had caught the pocket watch. When Diana spoke up and asked if he was ‘one of those metahumans’ a faint smile found its way upon his face. “Yea I am, but so are you and the reverend over there. Aren’t you?” He spun to face the pretty not so crying anymore girl that was around his age. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to cat-“

It was about this point in time when Johnny decided he should sing a song about the rain stopping, This of course was probably not the type of singing that would win you any type of spot on American Idol, if they show was even running anymore. Last Darren had heard it got canceled after Simon Cowel, who had owned it the past three seasons, decided it wasn’t worth his time anymore what with all of the new ‘hit’ TV shows that had to do with singing and all that jazz. “My god, you sir are absolutely, positively one of the worst singers I have ever had the displeasure of hearing. I mean I know I’m probably no better but jeezus leweezus it wouldn’t hurt if-ooooo.”

Talk about ADHD, all the man had to do was point out the little rainbow that practically appeared at the end of his finger and Darren was distracted as all get out. “Hey! You’re Irish, and all plus you are at the end of a rainbow which obviously means you have the pot of gold. Unless of course you’re at the beginning of the rainbow…Are you a leprechaun? Because that would totally be wicked cool if you are a leprechaun.” Walking up to Johnny now Darren looked the man whom he was taller than by about an inch up and down before opening his mouth once more. “You aren’t the tallest man in the world but you aren’t exactly short enough to be a leprechaun. Do you have a leprechaun in your pocket or something? Are you positive you aren’t a leprechaun?”

Shaking his head Darren focused back on the more important, or seemingly important if he was John, Tyuki, or even Sean for that matter. Turning back to face Diana and the Reverend he took the sweater off the hilt of his sword and took the weapon out of his book-bag. Pointing the sword at the man and young lady he spoke, again “Back to what I was saying, you two aren’t exactly normal humans either. So…” Leaning forward on his sword now with a smile on his face “What can you two do?”