Run From The Light | Closed

Loki Laufeyson | The Would-Be King


It was the day. The day that his fate was to be cast upon him and whatever would come, he'd be powerless to stop it. For what could of been month or years Loki had been stuck in that damned cage Odin had put him in. And every second was spent planning different ways to murder the righteous bastard preening on his throne. The fallen God knew when the guards were coming to get him, he could hear their footsteps and straightening tried to appear haughty and high-handed. It was of no use as the second the door to his cell was opened, he was met with a sword near his throat a silent warning to cooperate or die. One guard even had the audacity to spit at the God while he was fastening his chains- carved with runes so that he would not cast any spells. The things were heavy as he was led from his cell, finally fitted with a mouth-gag to prevent any sort of talk; fury and humiliation burning through his blood. The walk was longs and the manacles which were heavy when put on, were becoming a pressing weight around his hands; a coldness cramping his body and the shuffling of chains. Blinking rapidly the God was met with with unwanted memories of what he had done. How the Chitauri had fallen by his brother's hands and his ragtag team of "Avengers". How the Midgardians had run screaming like ants. Inconsequential in his grand schemes of things. Loki felt phantom pains flare in his body from all the maltreatment he had quietly suffered through since his defeat and containment. There were mixed feelings of regret and triumph as he recalled the reactions of his family.

The brother who'd always outshone him, the pain he had suffered because Loki had gone after his precious Midgard. Frigga's disappointment, and best of all Odin, who'd looked at him with such disgust and contempt when he'd been sentenced to jail while they thought out his punishment. They'd had come at any rate, and knocked him out probably so they could chain him and transport him to the throne room; where Odin, Frigga, and Thor waited to pass their judgement without a doubt. A piece of Loki, though he'd never openly admit, was terrified that they'd chosen that he was best dead; too much a threat to continue living, but holding up his head he marched to the throne room in his plethora of chains and mouth-gag. As he had assumed the three were gathered there, Frigga's eyes tear-stained, Odin's mouth set in a firm, angry line, while Thor resembled a kicked puppy. How remarkable that ability of Thor's was, and could evoke a stir of pity even in Loki. However his malice and disdain quickly replaced it. "So what will you have of me father? Will it be fed to Fenrir? Executed on the spot? Oh, oh will you hand to Fury?" Loki taunted, an unwise move, as soon as the gag was removed. "Silence!" Odin roared, clearly in no trifling mood, and flinching Loki did as he was told. "I have thought long and hard of what to do with you, Loki Laufeyson." He sneered, as if in retaliation to Loki's own father jab; "And while I don't believe it is best, Thor and Frigga have pleaded that you be stripped of your powers." At this Loki blinked; at all the possibilities this was one that he hadn't imagined, how could they take away his powers? The very thing that made him who he was? The thing that thrummed through his veins filling him with power and a sense of identity? However Odin was not done speaking.

"You will be stripped of your powers, and memories; to be banished to the mortal realm. You will keep your Asgardian lifespan and when, if you should ever, learn your lesson and transform yourself you will be allowed back to Asgard." Loki made a strangled choking noise at the news. "You... couldn't possibly! How am I to defend myself from the mortals? Surely they would have me beheaded for my crimes! They will know who I am, and I will not!" Loki tried to keep the plea out of his voice, yet could not prevent it fully. "Surely you will leave me with a little memory, just to defend myself?" Odin's face was set firm and immobile, though Frigga stifled a cry behind her hand; which went ignored by the two men. "Loki you will pay for your for your crimes to humanity. There is a popular mortal saying: "You reap what you sow. I suggest you learn it." The apathy in his voice didn't surprise Loki per say, but it sent ominous shivers throughout his body. There would be no reasoning with Odin when he was like this, and with that the old man rose from his seat advancing on Loki. He refused to meet the inevitable as a coward and stood his ground, tall and proud as Odin's hands gripped him. Was this truly to be the last time he recalled who he was? For his hatred of Midgard was sewn so deeply into his veins he was positive it would never be washed away. And he would damned to wander around for eons without truly recalling who he was; what greatness that coursed in his veins.

It then hit Loki that he would lose the essence that made up his very being; magic was so ingrained and etched into his soul Loki was unsure of who he would be without it- not that it mattered as Odin was also taking away his memories. Anxiety bubbled up in his chest and he trembled as a pain, slow and gradual. This punishment would be worse than death, Odin was taking away his very identity. The pain began to intensify, searing and freezing his blood at the same time, it tore and broke him inside and a strange wailing sound echoed around the room; a voice Loki was unaware belonged to him. Vaguely he was aware of Odin shouting at him, and Frigga's sobs. However it was Thor's silence that seemed to be loudest to him; as if he didn't care what was going on with his br- no. The man he'd been brought up with. The pain climaxed to a point where Loki felt himself began to black out and with a final, gold, blinding flash Loki lost conscious and passed into a searing hot blackness which also eventually faded. It was the utter cold that aroused the man from his state of unconsciousness, the first thing was aware of a crashing noise, the shrieking of crows and seagulls, along with the salty and heady smell of the ocean. Feeling himself shivering, head exploding the man was swept in a sea of potent, stinging confusion. Who was he? Why was he lying on a beach, in nothing but a thin green tunic and black cloth pants?

Small white flakes of snow drifted down to the icy, wet sand that dirtied his skin and clothes. Stunning heterochromatic orbs snapped open and trying to push himself upwards with a startle the man found that his arms held no strength and he crashed back down to the sand. For a long time he just lay there, breath laboring as his heart pounded in his chest. Who was he? What the hell was going on? Eventually when the icy sand, stabbing him like needles he tried to get up. The man found he was hardly able to roll over onto his side to gaze at the dawn-filled sky. His throat was parched and the man didn't think he possessed the will to speak, and turning his head away, bitter tears he didn't fully understand filled his gaze as angst and rage dripped down his pale face in the form of salty drops; pocked with confusion. "I need to get up- I'm going to pass out I'll freeze and succumb from hypothermia." His inner voice whispered, yet try as he might the man found himself unable to move still. His limbs were sore, his body ached and he found that he lacked the general will to live. There was this hallow depression that stung his chest and drove the man to dark thoughts. "Perhaps... Perhaps it would be best to die. How am I supposed to breath let alone live with this... This emptiness in my chest? Where am I from? Why was I left here?" He murmured around his closed throat, his eyes scanning this desolate landscape. Whatever was here must all be sleeping or at least, not at no help was in sight.

That feeling of hopelessness again bit at his heart with such a ferocity that it almost made him cry out; for what he had no idea. But there was such a deep-seated feeling of abandonment and betrayal that it pierced as physically as any knife. He was sure that his lips were blue and teeth chattering. Feeling a blackness well up around his eyes the man found himself teetering on the edge of passing back into the warm blackness. He should've been scared. Terrified that if he passed out that he'd never awaken. But his emotions felt like distant, mythical things. No, he couldn't be bothered with something like fear. So instead the man, well he welcomed the blackness with joy. At least he wouldn't be torn with all this confusion and heartache that he didn't understand, didn't know. Wouldn't have to wonder why he was left alone in such a manner on a beach all on his own. Who had abandoned him, and why; no none of that could bother him as he slowly began giving into the welling blackness. As he passed out he could of sworn he heard the hurrying of footsteps, and a muffled and distant shouting voice; but he was unsure and with a soft sigh the God passed out once more.

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Nydia Langley | The Hidden Enhanced


Ever since she could remember, Nydia Langley had been tucked away from the world. Back when being different was bad, could get you rounded up by the government according to her mother. For eighteen years she lived under lock and key in Upstate New York. Friends? Only her imaginary ones. School? Home-schooled by her eccentric single-mother Christi Langley. Any town events, parades, playgrounds- it was all something that Nydia was kept from. It was to "Keep her off the radar" as her mother had said time and time again; and for awhile she got it. The thing that set her apart from the rest of most children her age? Gravity manipulation. Like, create, bend, and toy with any existing gravity and Nydia hadn't always been very good at keeping it under wraps. When she was younger and was feeling emotionally strong about something, things would levitate, crash, move- whatever. And so she understood at first. But years of long, grueling practice she had near perfect control of her gift, and hadn't harmed anyone. But still her mother remained adamant that she stay at home. Stay out of the public eye.

There wasn't much she could do, that is until she was eighteen. On Nydia's eighteenth birthday she had packed up a bag of her shit and had left. That was the last night she talked to her mother- but the first night she began to really live her own life. It wasn't hard getting to New York City, and for a couple nights she slummed out on the streets. But, she eventually got a job. Made friends, roomed with them until she earned enough to get shitty run down apartment in Hell's Kitchen that accepted cash up front. And, her job was ideal in that matter to; cash up front. She was twenty when aliens attacked. Nydia was twenty years old when she realized that- there were more... People out there like her. Though the media was calling them enhanced's. And oh god did she want to meet them. After that New York incident, people like her began crawling out of every nook and cranny. There was Spider-Man in Manhattan, the X-men- but most recently and most attention catching; The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The reports were; he was mostly a terrorist, a bad dude who wanted to see the entirety of Hell's Kitchen razed to the ground. But there were whispers that he was fighting a greater evil that Hell's Kitchen hadn't even figured out yet. That he was really the good guy.

Nydia liked to believe the latter. But throughout it all, she kept her head down. Refused to go out and join in the superhero fray. It was afterall, what she was raised not to do. But it seemed that fate had a funny way of shoving people together who just don't seem like they'd fit. It was a frigid night in Hell's Kitchen. Colder even than what was normal for a late December night. Snow was almost up to the svelte brunette's knees, making it hell to get to and from work as most the sidewalks were half-assed salted. Today she was stumbling back to her place, the city's aromas of trash and piss seemingly saturating every street, sometimes hidden by the greasy stench of fast-food that permeated the air. Body's were jostled and shoved by one another on the too crowded side-walks and overhead the clouds hung gray and low. Another snowstorm was in the forecast, but as of yet the dreaded thick blanket of the stuff hadn't fallen upon Hell's Kitchen. This blanket of cold caused the girl to take a shortcut she normally didn't back to the apartment she lived in, as it was one of the rougher parts. It was never truly night in New York City, and streetlights shone down upon the slender seemingly harmless girl as she hurried down sidewalks, ignoring those high out of their minds and the drunks- nor the men's gazes who seemed to be a little too appreciative.

She was halfway back to her place when the sound of a gunshot caught her attention, and glancing up felt her heart shudder with the want to go and help whomever was presumably being mugged. But her mind held her firm in place. "It's dangerous. You can get hauled away by the government. Remember, mom said that they have special jails for people like you." That voice whispered again; though it was shattered when there was a groan of pain and another gunshot. "Fuck it." She grumbled, and as carefully as she could run, headed towards the sounds of a fight. She had kept her head down through everything so far- but not tonight. Cold bit at her exposed cheeks turning them rosy and pink. The sounds led her to a small, mostly abandoned alleyway save for three men laying strewn about the ground, and another one trying to fend off one masked man. It was almost gymastic in the way that he moved, flipping about until he managed to get an elbow in, causing the man to drop his gun and crumple to the ground. "Holy shit." Nydia remarked into the freshly fallen silence, and the man's head whipped in her direction. She could see him tensing, getting ready to flee and acting on instinct she flung her hands out, sending the man's gun closest to her raising into the air. "No, wait it's okay I'm sort of like you? Minus the uh... Vigilante stuff, I have like a thousand questions. Mostly, are you hurt badly and is there anyone else around here like... Us?"

Elizabeth Whiteley | The Midgardian


Elizabeth had always relished in seclusion and silence. She'd never been the social party girl stereotype. While she did attend parties on occasion, she was normally the girl nursing the same drink for several hours in the corner of the room, she much preferred a night in at home with a good book and bottle of wine. It wasn't that she disliked people, she just preferred silence. She enjoyed being alone. She found it calming and peaceful. Just as she too found the ocean calming and peaceful.

It should have been no surprise to friends and family members that she would end up in a house beside the sea, miles outside of town and with the nearest neighbor being two miles down the road. One might think she'd get lonely after a while but she quite enjoyed it. If there was anyone who found the beauty in seclusion and silence it was a writer such as she. And she wasn't entirely alone, she had Bear, her adorable Alaskan Malamute. He doubled as her guard dog and number one fan/writing critic.

Bear was the one who found the man on the beach. Despite the wet and icy weather, Elizabeth still enjoyed taking the pup for a walk in the mornings. On nicer days, when the weather was much less horrid, they occasionally went for early morning jogs. Those were normally reserved for summer days and crisp autumn mornings though, both of which did not describe that morning's weather at all. They seemed to be the only ones brave enough to take on the icy weather that morning. Elizabeth didn't mind it though. Other than the cries of the gulls and the waves crashing against the shore, all was quiet. It was peaceful. Tranquil. Quiet. All things she relished in.

And it remained as such until Bear started to whine and cry, trying to pull her closer to the water. "What is it, buddy?" Elizabeth asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, as though the dog were actually going to answer her question. Then he started barking and tugging on the leash even more. That's when she realized what had the dog so freaked out. A good distance down the shore, rather close to the water, was what appeared to be a man laying in the sand.

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he dead? That's when she noticed slight movement. He was alive. What would possess someone to be out here in this weather? Not that she could say much because she was one of those people, but still. As she drew closer, she noticed that the clothing he seemed to be wearing was thin, no match for the frigid temperatures and wet weather at all.

"Excuse me? Sir? Hey!" She shouted, trying to get the man's attention but to no avail. As she closed the now short distance between them, she arrived just in time to see eyes drift shut and his body fall limp against the sand once more.

---

Matthew Murdock | The Devil of Hell's Kitchen


Some were calling him a terrorist. Others a vigilante. There were very few who actually knew what the masked man, recently dubbed the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, was up to. Matt didn't mind though. He really didn't care much about what people were calling him, or rather the masked man, these days. None of it mattered to him. He knew what he was doing and why he was doing it, and that was all he really cared about. Of course, there were the very few people who knew his actually identity, and they too knew the reasoning behind his actions, but that was it. Why did he care what others thought he was up to? He knew that he was doing the right thing, albeit in somewhat unorthodox ways, but what was important was that he knew that he was doing the right thing.

He'd gotten a lead on some men affiliated with Fisk not long after he arrived back at his apartment after a long day at work. He was quick to put on the dark attire he now frequented on a nightly basis before he headed out. It didn't take him long to find the men, near supersonic hearing made it rather easy, and he quickly had them cornered in a dark alleyway. His timing was pretty damn impeccable if he did say so himself. None of them saw him coming, and it was this lack in both attentiveness and observation that worked greatly in his favor.

He took down three of the four men rather quickly, and he nabbed him rather quickly too when he heard someone speak, a woman, behind him. His body tensed up and he froze for a couple of seconds. No one was supposed to find him here. He was supposed to get information on Fisk from these men and get the hell out. That seemed a lot less likely now though. Someone had overheard the commotion. Someone else was in the alleyway with he and Fisk's men.

He would have fled if the man's gun, the one he'd just taken down, hadn't started floating. He wouldn't have given a second thought about it, and he would have ignored the woman, if that hadn't happened. He knew that there were others like him out there, he just hadn't come in contact with any of them yet. Until now. "I'm fine." He said shortly. He paused, glancing around. Most of the men appeared unconscious, but he didn't want to take any chances. "We shouldn't talk here. Too many prying ears."

Loki Laufeyson | The Would-Be King


Maybe it was supposed to be the end, or maybe it wasn't. But the one thing that was certain was that he wasn't in good shape. Some parts of his skin had taken faint blue streaks while his teeth chattered with enough force to take a chunk out of his tongue or cheek if he was unlucky enough. But- the man couldn't feel it. Only the pressing blackness he'd gone into. And it was relief. There was no pounding, skull-splitting head ache and the panic of not knowing who he was or why he was out there. But maybe luck or something more sinister was smiling down on him; but the next thing he was aware of was a wet warmth on his face and the sensation of a tongue dragging itself across his face. Groaning he weakly raised an arm, just as feebly trying to push off whatever was licking him. "Oh god please don't be dead." A female voice could be heard from above and cracking his eyes open he was met with a blinding light though once his eyes adjusted a slender blonde with large blue eyes and what he assumed to be generously curved lips had they not been pressed into a frown of horror. "W-g-re-h?" Trying to ask what was going on and where he was, who he was the male only gritted out a few hoarse sounds. The man's throat felt as grainy as the beach he was laid upon and it was then his eyes fell on the culprit who'd been licking at his face.

A large dog, fluffy and somewhat resembling a wolf barked at him; making the man flinch. His head was splitting and his world was heaving- to the point where he rolled over and gagged a few times nothing coming up. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and the weak rays of sunlight shone over dull curly blonde hair. What was going on? That was the first thing to find out. Clearing his throat several times once he'd gotten a hold of himself he asked in a rough voice, "Wh're 'm I?" His voice wasn't quite deep as he thought it would be, but a little higher and marred with an accent that didn't quite sound british nor anything else. His accent was just as lost as the man was. "I- I don't know where I am." He stammered panic beginning to creep into his voice. Had he hit his head? Lost all his memories? Sure felt like it. Raising a thin shaking hand to the back of his skull the man gingerly felt around, seeking out any bumps and bruises. There were none. Out of the corner of his eye he noted the woman taking out a phone, and how he knew that- the man didn't know. He just knew what it was and what it did. Frantically his hand flashed out and with deceptive strength curled around her wrist. "Please don't call anyone." Which roughly translated to, No police, and no ambulance. The man's lips were pressed into a small, hard, thin line.

For reasons he could not explain, he had a deep fear of any authority figures. In the cold he shivered again, glancing down at himself. The man seemed to be dressed in an odd fashion compared to her. Black wool pants clung to her legs and she seemed to be bundled in a large coat complete with gloves and a scarf. He on the other hand was left shivering on the sand with nothing more than the thin cotton tunic and pants which were plain and simple without design. His head, still pounding with pain radiated from the back of his skull making his groan aloud; hissing through clenched teeth. With a superhuman effort the man managed to scrabble to his feet, swaying and wobbling; fighting against another wave of nausea. He felt half dead and worse yet- he had no idea whom he was. "Sir?" He thought she had been talking, but wasn't sure. Hadn't listened anyway. With a sort of soft, sick horror he mumbled "I- I don't remember anything. I don't... I don't know my name or why- why I'm here." In some places the panic made him stutter and heart pound loudly in his chest. She spoke in a soothing voice though he hardly listened. Instead the man took a few paces forward intent on figuring out his surroundings though had to stop when he felt like he may vomit again. A groan from deep within his belly tumbled out his mouth as he pressed a palm to his forehead; shaking and clearly panicked.

Why did this feel so wrong?! Everything about this felt wrong. The cold and the sick. The panic and fear, it felt forigen to him; like he was experiencing it from someone else's body. Sliding the hand up from his forehead he ran it through short, dirty curls. This filth, this wasn't him. No he was someone important, but he couldn't remember why. Frustration boiled in his veins and he almost let out a bellow of rage; though the woman who had stopped to help him already looked panicked enough. He didn't know that this was a mortal body, or even that there was something other than this god forsaken rock he'd been stuck on. He had no idea that he was Loki, the rightful king of Asgard. All this man knew was he was cold, in pain, and very confused. Throughout it all, by some miracle the woman and her dog had stayed watching through large eyes. "I- I think I may need a doctor." He conceded, voice quiet with some humiliation that he couldn't fathom. It was as if he'd been shoved into a stranger's body that on instinct was seething with hate and anger, misplaced righteousness, hurt, and betrayal. There was something about this world that innately disgusted him. The people who lived on it and the whole nine yards. Shuddering almost violently his stunning depths which seemed to settle for a more startling blue than striking green scanned about as if searching for enemies. Along with everything else, he felt this unknown fear. This paranoia that someone was coming for him and that he was in trouble.

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Nydia Langley | The Hidden Enhanced


Inwardly, Nydia was kind of kicking herself in the ass about this. What was her mother's golden rule? Never reveal yourself. It was the reason she worked so damn hard to keep herself hidden. And now she had gone and not only shown herself- but to a man who was possibly a terrorist. Just because he was a vigilante. Like her- so the papers were saying. Biting her lip, shivering in the disgustingly gelid weather she opened her mouth to disagree though deflated. In the end she kind of decided that birds of a feather flock together and all that shit, right? "I'm Fine." Well, there was one less thing for the petite brunette to worry about. Pulling a hand tucking a stray lock of brunette hair behind her ear, Nydia carefully approached. On closer inspection she noted that, he was a good bit taller than her measly 4'11 stature and far more muscular. Head to toe he was clad in black, including a mask over his face which was odd. She'd figure it hindered his eyesight, there was no way she could know he was blind. Underfoot snow stubborn or lucky enough to have been missed by the salt crunched underfoot and for the tenth time in as many minutes- Nydia was wondering what the hell she was doing. This was possibly a bad man. A very bad man, like blowing up Hell's Kitchen kind of bad.

But he hadn't harmed her. Hadn't tried to lay a finger on her. Even the men he had fought lay unconscious- but alive. So, she wasn't entirely convinced that he was a killer. "Go where exactly?" She finally spoke up, though he didn't answer just began moving. "But we're the only ones- Alright we'll do it your way." She supposed the men he'd put down may overhear. The figure clad in black took a few steps then looked back at her, as if to say Come or go, but if you're coming let's move. And Nydia was under the impression he didn't like staying in the same place long while the mask was on. Through it all, the fear and the thrill of finding someone like her, someone so notorious no less, that base level of curiosity still layered her brain. "So you're the first person I've come across with erm-" Her words, holding tones of naive sort of excitement managed to remain soft and sweet. The girl debated on what to call what they were. Some people thought they were cursed. Other experiments, some gifts or enhanced humans. "With an enhancement." She settled for. The sky still overtones of angry grays and thick clouds hadn't spat snow down on New York yet- thankfully. The city howled on around them, sirens and horns. People's shouts and shrieks of laughter; some drunken babble to fill the silence which she had fallen into. Once or twice she nearly stumbled on unseen ice; though was quick to catch herself.

The silence bred the question, what exactly he was trying to accomplish with going out and doing... Whatever he did. Whether it be acts of terrorism or heroism- she had yet to find out though really hoped it was the latter, wasn't he scared of putting himself in the public eye. "You know, aren't you even a little concerned of putting yourself out to the public? Won't it make it easier for the government to track you down and find you?" Often times, Nydia spoke without thought. This was one of those times. "Government?" He spoke up from ahead of her and the girl nodded vigorously. "Yeah. My mom had to keep me at home all the time growing up. Because I guess she thought that the government would lock me up in some facility. I mean... I think that happens." She felt completely out of her depth- as well she should be. As nice as it was to be around someone like herself, it was also completely nerve-wracking. She had lived her live in the shadows. Pretending she was as normal as the next person while he... Well he didn't. They only thing they truly had in common was the fact that in someway or another they were gifted above the normal human means. She followed until he stopped, arms crossed over his broad chest, Nydia's breath fogging in front of her face like a small cloud. Here was quiet, probably a decent spot to kill her without raising anyone intervening if he wanted to.At his hip hung two sticks of sort, and it occurred to her that was what he was using to beat up the men in the alley.

If he was the good guy that she believed him to be- it must be hard. Living that kind of life. Seeing the things he must see and the impossible choices to make. For a moment she wondered if it was worth it. Risking exposure, and a normal life for fighting crime. "Kind of sucks the world needs people like... Like you and the Avengers I guess." Nydia was kind of worried if she didn't talk, neither would he. Where he was standing, it was a little easier to see. His lip was split and blood was dabbled on his chin though he was right. He didn't look like he was in serious condition of any kind. Not that she could of helped him save for maybe a couple band-aids and some hydrogen peroxide. Anxiously, she crossed her arm, shifting on her foot. Could she be arrested for talking to him? Was it aiding and abetting a fugitive? Eh. She was willing to risk it if she could get to know someone like herself. It was isolating, living life the way that she did. No close bonds and ready to drop everything and run in a moments notice. He seemed to be a little more reckless than that- but it was assuring to know that she wasn't alone out there. That besides the Avengers, there was someone out there- even in her borough of New York City that Nydia called home. "Right. I've already asked a bunch of questions without introducing myself. I'm Nydia. I won't ask for your name." There was a lit of amusement at that, and a small smile touched on her lips.

Elizabeth Whiteley | The Midgardian


"Oh god, please don't be dead." Elizabeth said quietly to herself. While Bear started licking the man's face, she took her time to search for a pulse. She let out a sigh of relief when she found one, albeit slowed and weak. She froze when a weak, yet still audible, groan escaped the man's lips and he weakly brought his arm up in the hopes of defending himself against Bear's tongue. The dog let out a quiet whine, backing up a bit though, as if to give the man some space. What could Elizabeth say? She had a smart, very observant dog.

She also had confirmation that the man was alive. But what was he doing out here on beach? The current state he was in was enough to prove that he'd been out here for quite some time, and Elizabeth was ready to call for help. He didn't seem in any condition to walk, and she was certain he needed some form of medical assistance, and as quickly as possible no less. Bear's barking brought her out of her reverie. She noticed the man flinch at the noise and she softly shushed the dog before focusing her attention back to the man as he spoke. She detected an accent. It almost sounded British, but not quite and it was a bit higher than one might have expected, but she decided that it suited him well.

His words alarmed her though. He didn't know where he was? If that were the case, how exactly had he ended up on that beach in the first place? Or had he simply forgotten? Maybe he'd sustained some sort of a head injury. She was seeing more and more reasons now why she should call for help and she slipped her hand into the pocket of her coat to pull out her cell phone. She was about ready to dial 911 when a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Blue eyes widening, she looked to the man as he practically begged her not to call anyone.

"You need medical attention. There isn't anyone out here right now, besides me, and we're several miles outside of town. I don't think you're in any shape to walk back to my place, let alone to there." She paused, realizing that he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts for the time being. Thoughts that were probably induced by the evident state of panic he seemed to be in. Her eyes widened once more when she saw him somehow managed to get to his feet, stumbling slightly as he did so. "Sir?" She frowned, concern evident in her voice. "Sir, I need you to calm down. If you'd just let me call someone, I can get you out of the cold. I think you must've sustained some sort of a head injury, but if you don't let someone check you out, I won't know for sure..."

She wasn't a doctor. She could take care of herself and Bear, but she hadn't been responsible for another person in gods knows how long. She needed to get him to a doctor or a hospital, somewhere. He couldn't stay out here much longer. His skin was pale, dark circles under his eyes, and a few parts of his skin were tinged blue. She wouldn't be surprised if he was hypothermic already. "I can only get you to a doctor if you'll let me call someone..." She said slowly. She was trying her hardest to stay calm right now. She doubted her panicking would do the situation any good at all. "Can you walk?" She asked suddenly. "If you won't let me call someone, at least let me get you somewhere warm for the time being. My place is just up the shore."

---

Matthew Murdock | The Devil of Hell's Kitchen


Matt didn't know where to take her. His apartment? It was several blocks away, and while that wasn't a large distance for him, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to get them both there undetected. He was used to traveling rooftop by rooftop but he highly doubted that that was the case with her. Needless to say, his apartment was out. He just figured that getting away from this alleyway was the best idea. The commotion had obviously caught her attention and he wasn't sure if anyone else had heard it as well. The last thing he needed right now was a run in with more people, or worse, the police. Granted, he'd already had several run ins with them, but he would like to keep that number low if he could.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he wordlessly took a few steps before pausing and glancing over his shoulder to check if she was following him or not. If she hadn't made her abilities known, he wouldn't have bothered stopping in the first place. If she was any other person, he would have gotten out of that alleyway as quickly as he possible could. However, she wasn't just any other person. She had abilities as well, and she was the first person like him that he'd ever come across. He'd be damned if he let her slip away so easily without at least talking to her first.

He was only partially listening to her as he walked, being as discreet as he possibly could. He hoped that no one had spotted him, although, it wasn't like appearing on newspaper covers and in headlines was anything new to him nowadays. "Government?" Why was she so concerned about the government detecting her? Were there people out there with abilities who lived in fear of being discovered? He wasn't necessarily one of those people, but he sort of was at the same time. There was a reason he kept his identity secret. No one associated Matt Murdock with the Devil, not yet anyway. And he planned on keeping it that way for as long as he possibly could.

"I haven't been locked up yet, and I'm sure that the government knows about me by now." Was all he said on the subject. It was the truth though. The government obviously knew who he was. Well, they knew that he existed. There was a difference between actually knowing who he was and knowing that he existed. He wondered if they knew that he was Matt Murdock if they'd show up at his apartment. The thought honestly had never really crossed his mind before now though. He stopped, turning to look at her. And then she was introducing herself. He didn't respond, just simply nodded. She was right, he wasn't going to introduce himself or give her his name. He didn't know if he could trust her with that just yet. "How long have you known?" He asked instead. "About your abilities I mean? How love have you known that you have them?"

Loki Laufeyson | The Would-Be King


There was an innate fear and disgust at the thought of being cared for by doctors; but moreover he was more fearful than anything. Everything felt strange in this body and clenching his jaw the man swallowed his pride. "Right. To your place then, out of the cold. I can walk." If nothing else he was a creature of pride and vanity. That hadn't changed. By sheer will he would force himself to make it to the house, just up the shore he assured her. Of course, she didn't look thrilled with the idea of him not going to the doctor so he added a quiet, "Thank you." For some reason it tasted like vinegar coming out of his mouth- but it shouldn't of. Had it not been for this girl and her brute of a dog- he wouldn't of woken up from this spot on the beach. She was right however, about this place being vacant of any other life. The blonde shuddered to think of what would of happened if he had been discovered by someone else. Would he have been locked away in some institution as he had lost his memories? Shuddering at the thought he was slow to follow slightly behind her. Staggering a few times he nearly stumbled onto his face, though managed to catch himself. It was pride that felt misplaced that kept him upright. Face-forward, lips set into a stone edged frown and eyes in a glare.

Some unfathomable anger had touched his heart, and for what he didn't know. But with each step the heavier the feelings of wroth and abandonment. Did he have a family? Were they looking for him? Shivering beneath his thin clothes the man was sure that they were not. His body didn't feel like it was addicted to anything. Not alcohol, nicotine, or drugs. In fact he was lean, a little too lean but at one time he was sure that he held a unique, graceful strength- like he worked out often or something. Whoever he was, he was no addict. "Erm, I would introduce myself but..." Voice trailing off into something like bitterness the man took a deep breath to center himself. "But since I don't know at the moment, feel free to call me as whatever." Honestly- he was too tired to care about a name. To miserable and disoriented. The white-hot pain radiating in his head had subsided to a dull throbbing. If nothing else, he would live. At one point the dog brushed against his leg and looking down he hesitantly patted the beast's head his hand tingling with warmth at it's thick fur. "It's very kind of you to help me. I have the feeling that I have not been helped in a very long time." He mused, eyebrows furrowing. That last part was spoken somewhat under his breath with utter confusion.

By the time that this girl had led her to the home she was referring he was ready to collapse. His teeth were chattering loudly enough they could only be described as clacking. His clothes had nearly frozen to his skin, and it was then he began to grow self-conscious of his appearance. He didn't exactly smell like roses nor look like the prince he did not know himself to be. She opened the door as quickly as she could ushering him inside. As the wave of heat rushed over his frozen skin the man groaned with relief. His lips were still blue-tinged, but that horrible chill inside his bones were beginning to melt. Looking around, impressed with his surroundings, he hung back near the door. Part of him was furious that he was in such a weak state. But he was also grateful that she was helping. The warmer he got, the closer he realized, he had been to death. There was something that had to be done, he did not know what- but he would not stop until it was exacted. And it felt a hell of a lot like revenge. On what, or who or why? Well that he would figure out once his memories returned. His gaze resumed to scanning the home. He felt out of place. "I, don't wish to be a bother, but if I could perhaps have a bath I'd be immensely grateful."

Speaking around the chattering of teeth he flashed her what he hoped was an open, vulnerable expression. The blonde couldn't take out these feelings of frustration on her. Some inkling told him that had it been anyone else. Someone who hadn't helped him, he wouldn't of been so kind. At her confirmation that he could indeed have a bath he flashed her a grateful smile. The dog never left far from it's master's side, and it watched him with almost a sentinel intelligence. Weary, as if it wasn't quite sure about him. Which honestly he didn't blame the dog. The man didn't even know his own name; settling to call himself whatever she picked. He had no identification. No indication of what or who he had been prior to waking up on that beach. Reaching up he again checked his head for any bumps and found none. "I don't feel any bumps. No identification... Thank you for your help. I have the feeling not many would go to such lengths had they found themselves in your position." There was no reason to berate her for the way he was feeling. In fact, if anything he should really butter up to her. He wasn't sure what her plans were to do with him; but something about her didn't speak to the kind of woman that would toss a man out into the cold that couldn't even remember his own name.

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Nydia Langley | The Hidden Enhanced


Feeling her brows furrow at his question, how long had she known about her abilities the girl felt a wave of confusion color her veins. How long? Well they had manifested when she was little more than six- so kind of forever. Was he not someone who was born with his ability, whatever it was. If she had to guess maybe super-human endurance. "Well," Nydia started clearing her throat before continuing hesitantly. "Forever. Well since I was about six. So sixteen years. Were you not born this way?" There was a note of incredulous skepticism in her voice. She hadn't really expected to meet another enhanced human, let alone one who hadn't been that way. "My dad was like me I guess. I mean not exactly, my mom says he could be intangible. I got gravity manipulation." She added, in a somewhat helpful tone. Nydia had always had to take her mother's words on the subject of her father. Apparently he'd been in war and had seen some many of his friends shot, blasted and bleed to death. He had never really left the war behind, not really. Drank himself to death a year or so after she was born. It sucked, but in a way it was kinder. To not have known him, not miss a father she had adored. Her thoughts turned back to the man in front of her as he spoke; and Nydia's forehead crinkled. She was still perplexed at this odd twist of fate that had landed her talking with The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. "What about what do you have super-human endurance?"

Pausing she could help the little impish grin. God, it felt like they may as well have been asking about the weather. He seemed to be a little more reserved than she was; taunt and silently curious while she was babbling about anything that popped into her head. His answers were short, sweet and to the point; while Nydia tended to stumble around her answers like a child on Christmas. Of course she hadn't been told there was no one like her- just they were far and few. She was all to excited to get to know him. After he was done talking, sharing with her what he would, she couldn't help but ask a question she'd been kind of curious to figure out. "So... The whole hero thing. Do you like it?" She couldn't make out his facial expressions very well with the mask he wore, so she pressed on. "I mean, you run around alone, get shot at, beat up, and the city thinks you're a terrorist. What's the reward? Why?" She had been a creature taught self-preservation. Self-preservation above all. And of course she did understand that for some, the thing of hero's ran in their blood. But, chasing down crime leads in the dead of night only to be blamed for the very thing that he was trying to stop? Well, she supposed that confused her. Avengers, they had support.

Allies. And the Masked Man? Well it was just him out there. So she assumed at least. Shrugging her parka coat tighter around her delicate body Nydia wondered what it would of been like had she been out fighting crime in the streets like he did. Running around in the dead of night trying to help the general public from the city's most fearsome and deadly threats- even those unseen. But, she really didn't know how to fight. In case of emergency sure, she could use her gravity to really fuck someone up; but close combat like the Masked Man? She'd be knocked on her ass in three seconds flat. Overhead a beam of weak, watery silver moonlight fell upon the spot they were standing, a beam able to penetrate through the thick layer of clouds overhead. She was so tempted to just tell him that she wanted to hear all of it- his story, what his goals were out here; but refrained. As excited as she was to finally meet someone else like her- she didn't want to chase him off. So rather, the talkative and somewhat bubbling girl kept quiet letting him talk. There was a gruffness to his words but only to mask an innate softness she suspected he held.

A cold man didn't leave his enemies alive. A kind man did. Someone with a big heart, and a heart unable to commit murder. Nervously running her tongue across her lips her cheeks felt frozen. Too frozen to notice the wind gusting across her face, making her hair blow in every which direction; normally the girl would of been quick to fix it. Though today she hardly noticed. While she wouldn't have anyone to tell, nor would she, it had made her day to have met someone like him. "You know, I'd suggest a bar to go sit down and talk in but- I don't think we'd be welcomed." She joked, referring to his attire and the fact he or both of them would be arrested on the spot. As he spoke, about why he did what he did; the girl would admit that she was incredibly curious about that lifestyle. Sure she couldn't fight but, wouldn't it be nice to put her ability to use? By the way he had waved off the government she'd assume that her mother had been lying about that. Which- really wouldn't surprise Nydia, or had been misled. Hadn't that been her biggest fear about going out and helping saving lives? Crossing her arms she fell into a contemplative silence. Now, the vivacious brunette wasn't sure what she could do, or even how much she could help. But, she wanted to.

Elizabeth Whiteley | The Midgardian


Elizabeth had hoped beyond hope that he would just agree to let her call someone, but clearly to no avail. She wasn't a doctor. He seemed as though he needed medical attention, but she couldn't be sure. She supposed that, if she couldn't get him to see a doctor, the least she could do was get him out of the cold. Some might call her stupid or naive for bringing a complete stranger into her home like this, but what else was she supposed to do? She couldn't just leave him out there, he'd surely freeze to death! This was truly the only choice that she had and, well, if he turned out to be an axe murderer she supposed it was too late now.

"It's not a problem." She said quietly as she started back down the shore in the direction that she'd come from. At least he seemed grateful. She wouldn't have taken so kindly to it if he'd acted like a prick about the whole thing. He'd thanked her though, so she didn't think she'd have to worry about dealing with the aggravation of assisting a complete asshole or anything like that. Hopefully that was the case anyway. "I'll come up with something once I've gotten you inside and warmed up a bit." His lips were still tinged a blue color, and she wasn't so much concerned with introductions and other formalities until she was certain he wasn't going to die on her couch or something. Now that would be an interesting story to explain to the authorities. I swear, I didn't murder him. I found him half-dead along the shore! I was only trying to help. Please don't arrest me! The thought was almost comical really.

"Surely there are other people out there who wouldn't leave you out here in the cold?" Of course, she knew better than to make such an assumption about humanity. People saw a homeless person in a big city and automatically assumed that they were a druggie or alcoholic. Granted, a lot of them were, but some of them genuinely had a reason for not having a home. No one bothered to take the time to learn. They simply saw the worst in a person and walked away without looking back. She didn't think she could live with herself if a story appeared in the paper a few days from now about a body being discovered along the shore. No, she was doing the right thing here. Gods, she really did hope that he wasn't an axe murderer though. She lived a quiet life, but it wasn't one that she necessarily disliked.

She was growing more and more concerned the closer they got to her house. She was glad that the distance was shortening, but the longer he was out in the cold, the worse his condition got. She just hoped that her efforts would be worthwhile. She hoped that he would survive this. He'd made it this far, surely he could, right? Once inside the house, she let Bear off of his leash before making a beeline over to the thermostat and turned up the heat a bit more. "Yes, of course." She said, nodding her head. A bath would probably do him some good. And she'd need to look and see if her brother had left a set of clothes last time he visited, she couldn't have him wearing what he was. The material appeared to be thing and they were soaked. Surely it wasn't doing him any good at all. "I'm Elizabeth by the way." She called over her shoulder as she started down the hall towards the bathroom. Once she had the water running at a warm enough temperature, she headed to the guest room to search for a change of clothes. Thankfully, her brother was a bit absentminded at times and had in fact left a plain white t-shirt and some pajama pants last time he was there. With a change of clothes in hand and a fresh towel, she walked back out into the hall. "Water's running, and I found a change of clothes my brother left behind last time he was here. If you need anything, let me know. I'll just be in the kitchen." She pointed out where it was.

---

Matthew Murdock | The Devil of Hell's Kitchen


Matt shook his head in response to her question. Flashes of the accident that had taken his sight and given him abilities went through his mind. It had been such a long time ago, and he honestly didn't remember much of what it was like to just be a normal, average person. "I acquired them in an accident that took my sight." He told her. He was certain that a simple statement like that would earn him at least a few more questions, so he continued. "I pushed a man out of the way of an oncoming truck. It crashed, spilling it's contents out onto the street and into my eyes. Radioactive isotope. While it took my sight, all of my other senses were amplified to degrees that could only be describe as superhuman. I can also sense my surroundings, I have a mental picture of everything around me..." There were very few people that he'd ever needed to explain this to, and it was still strange to do so. For years he'd kept his abilities a secret from anyone and everyone. He knew that he could trust her though. He hoped that he could anyway, and it wasn't like she'd seen who the man was underneath the mask anyway.

"I don't do it for the recognition." He said, shaking his head. That was the last possible reason that would ever cross his mind, if it did at all, when someone asked him that question. If he was doing it for the recognition, he would have stopped already. "People can say and think whatever they want to about me. I know why I do what I do, I don't need the satisfaction of having others know and understand it too." He didn't think that anyone out there doing the whole hero gig did it for the recognition, and if they did, well, they were doing it for all of the wrong reasons. He did it because he knew he was helping others. He was protecting them from threats that he doubted hardly any of them even knew existed. And that was enough for him.

"People who do something like this for the recognition are in it for all of the wrong reasons." He told her. "If I wanted the recognition, I'd have made my presence known around here a long time ago." It was the same reason he'd decided to become an attorney. To help people. And all of the cases Nelson & Murdock had taken on thus far were in the hopes of doing just that. There were very few people out there who knew what Fisk was up to. Those who did, well, they usually turned up dead. If he didn't do something about it, he really didn't know who would. He wasn't going to sit back on the sidelines and watch shit happen. That just wasn't the type of person that he was at all.

He couldn't help letting out a soft chuckle at her words. "I doubt that would go over very well." He said, slight amusement evident in his voice. Sticking around here probably wasn't the best idea if they were going to continue talking though. Maybe he actually was better off taking her back to his place. He definitely felt as though he could trust her, and he doubted that she was secretly working for Fisk, but there was still a part of him that hesitated in doing so. So few people knew who the man underneath the mask really was. Could he really trust a woman he'd only just met? "If I take you somewhere, can I trust that you'll keep it, and anything I might tell you there, to yourself?"

Loki Laufeyson | The Would-Be King


"Elizabeth." He murmured sampling her name, his voice was still coarse like fragmented rock in hessian sack, moving and grinding against each other, somehow it complimenting that sharp, intelligent gaze which glittered with an innate hardness deep in his forget-me-not tinted gaze. As she hurried away running the bath from him- the man crouched down in front of Bear. For a moment he hesitantly held out his hand and the dog was quick to headbutt him; asking for a petting session. At first he was hesitant, lightly stroking the dogs ear's though once the beast flopped down on it's belly there was a sort of amusement that he got out of scratching the thing's belly. "Aren't you a sweetheart?" He asked, a infinitesimal bit of that silver charm coloring his voice. If he didn't like dogs before- well now he did. After Bear had enough of belly rubbing he stood shaking his fur out watching as the man got up- as graceful as a snake. His body seemed to hold a decent amount of strength which surprised him. From the glimpses he'd gotten in her windows he looked almost... effeminate. Small, a sort of delicateness to him that seemed to be the opposite of strong and fierce.

But his brain- well that was quick and sharp with wit. Well, when it wasn't being rendered useless by the most painful headache in history. "Water's running, and I found a change of clothes my brother left behind last time he was here. If you need anything, let me know. I'll just be in the kitchen." Elizabeth spoke as she reentered the room and the man glanced up, a small smile touching on his face. Now that he wasn't so panicked, he wasn't as frumpy and guarded. "You're a saint. I will repay you back." He promised, and he got the inkling that he wasn't a man that liked being in debt to someone. If someone treated him with kindness, than he was the kind of person to repay it tenfold. "Not sure how yet... But I will." This was made more to himself as walked past her, slow and careful not to startle her. He was a strange man, for all either of them knew- he was a serial killer. Though... That felt wrong in his very essence. He wasn't a serial killer. Probably, but at present time he felt no desire to harm her. Down the hallway he noted a few pictures hanging on her walls; and had he not still been slightly shivering from the cold the lanky blond would of stopped to look.

Instead he followed her directions and found himself in the bathroom, already filled with steam. Closing and locking the door behind him the man was quick as possible to shed the wretched clothing he'd been found in; and passing by a mirror. Horror and perplexity thundered through his body as the man examined what he could of himself in the mirror. He had a collection of scars on his body. Some small and white, faded and hardly noticeable while a couple were raw and red. Who the hell had he been?! A strangled noise of surprise mewled past his lips as he hesitantly ran a finger over a particularly nasty one on the back of his shoulder blade. Shaking his head the man turned from the mirror head spinning. Had he been on the run from the mafia or something? Why else would he look like this? A car accident? Did he belong to some fight club? Grumbling as he sunk into the water the blonde hissed beneath his breath as the water, in relatively tepid, burned his frozen skin. For a long while he just relaxed in the the water, rubbing circles into his skin to help blood flow normally and warm himself up. He was doing his best to remain as calm as possible in a situation like this. A situation where every instinct screamed to claw and fight his way back to whatever it is he was. After about twenty minutes of simply warming back up in the water he set to work scrubbing the layer of dirt and grime off his skin and out of his hair.

This was the kind of filth someone got from not bathing in awhile and once again- the plot thickened. Was he homeless? That thought felt right in wrong for reasons he could not explain.Finally when the water had washed away all his mire and sludge and the man's hair was soft and shiny once again he drained the water stepping out- almost looking like a new person. His face was still sharp, angular and roguish in nature; though held a rugged sort of charm. after toweling off, putting on the clothes Elizabeth had given him the man quickly ran his fingers through his hair trying to style it so to look presentable. Even through losing his memory, Loki had retained his vanity it would appear. Finally after he was finally done, his old clothes folded in hand he walked out of the bathroom and back in the hall. Elizabeth was still in the kitchen as she had said and while it took a bit of poking about it was easy enough to find her in the home. Clearing his throat to garner her attention the male offered that blinding 100-watt smile while managing to retain hints confused hints of onus stepped into the room. "I feel like a new man. I feel I keep repeating it, but thank you Elizabeth." He wasn't sure if she wanted him to be on his way. The man wasn't quite sure what he would do- but he'd figure it out. It wasn't like he could stay forever here until he found out his identity- he was pretty sure. "The clothes fit well." He added, a note of deep gratitude in his charming tone, which had smoothed out since using the bath.
________________________________________________________________________________

Nydia Langley | The Hidden Enhanced


"My dad wasn't born this way either. He used to tell my mom it was all the shit he was around. Explosions, gasses and stuff like that." Nydia offered up, The small brunette was startled to learn that not only was he not born this way, but the accident which gave this man his abilities- also took his sight. So he fought... Blind? Respect welled up in her veins. However, her actions and tone remained the same. There was no need to mollycoddle him as clearly he didn't need it. Surely this man was not the monster that the media painted him to be- which was utterly relieving for Nydia. It would of been somewhat of a downer had the first enhanced like herself she met were a prick. It was also a relief to hear that The Masked Man wasn't doing the whole vigilante thing out of recognition. That he was genuinely invested in seeing the streets become a better place. At least he wasn't an egotist. He paused for a moment as if mulling something over. "If I take you somewhere, can I trust that you'll keep it, and anything I might tell you there, to yourself?"

He was right to be suspicious, the media wanted to see him locked away forever, and they'd only just met. "Yes. The way I see it is enhanced have to look out for other enhanced. Besides, I go from work to home, I've been taught to remain under the radar." It was the best explanation she could muster at this point without going into lengthy detail about her childhood. "And I can trust you not to mention me to anyone?" Whether her mother was wrong about government taking away enhanced's or not- she wasn't going to take a risk. Besides she liked her quiet life and wasn't sure she was ready for anyone but him to know what she was. After his promise that he would keep this meeting to himself she shuffled over and directed, "After you." There was a subtle air of intrigue that clung to her like a second skin, she was comfortable enough with the Masked Man to trust that he wasn't taking her somewhere to off her. That wasn't his motive. She was pretty sure. It was just her nature to be distrustful of most people, how she was raised Nydia supposed.

The way back was pretty quiet, Nydia falling into her own thoughts; and he was busy making sure both remained unseen as this city's teeth which chewed it's citizen's alive. He moved with a lithe grace that seemed to fit him in an odd way. But- she supposed they were an odd pair. Strung together by what set them apart; but other than that- opposites. "So are you showing me to some sort of secret lair?" She asked, a taunt discernible by the roguish grin to her words. It turned out, it wasn't quite a secret lair, just an apartment building- his home. "Well, I get the need for secrecy now." Murmuring more to herself than anything she was immensely relieved to follow him indoors; out of the cold. Warmth radiated over her skin like a fire chasing away the cold and the flush off her cheeks. It was surprisingly clean; and she kind of wondered how he had time to clean, presumably attend to his day job, and then fight crime by night. Eight hours at her job and Nydia was usually wiped. As she crossed his threshold, she hovered by the door a ghost of a smile touching pastel pink lips, her mother would be absolutely horrified at her choice of association.

The room itself was large, an open space that served as a living room, and a few feet away kitchen. There was a subtle clean, sharp scent in the air which was pleasant. Nydia's next door neighbor's smoked enough pot for it to saturate into the hallways; and Nydia had taken to burning candles whenever she was home. It gave the feel of one of those industrial warehouses converted for apartments. A billboard was set up not far from outside one of the Masked Man's windows. Though she supposed that the view wasn't the most important thing in a home he looked for. In one corner she noted a white cane- he wasn't kidding about being blind. Her hair had turned unruly in the walk over,it's thick oaken colored strands falling near her dark, striking eyes as she gazed around silently. She averted her eyes, unsure if he wanted to leave the mask on or take it off. It was common sense that he wore it for a reason and she was new. Different- but the same. She wouldn't be upset one way or the other. Carefully leaning against one of his walls, arms crossed over her curvy chest while taking everything in. "Not bad for a secret lair." She finally commented, a grin tinting her words.

Elizabeth Whiteley | The Midgardian


"It's nothing, honestly." Elizabeth assured him, a soft smile gracing her lips. She couldn't help noticing that he seemed to be in better spirits now, though who could blame him for being in a bit of a sour mood after being out in the freezing cold for gods knows how long? She certainly couldn't. "No form of repayment necessary." She added. And it really wasn't. Unlike some people in today's society, who always seemed to have an ulterior motive, she was doing this out of the goodness of her heart. Some might call her naive or stupid for doing so, for being so trusting of a complete stranger, but she honestly didn't think she could have allowed herself to simply walk away and let him freeze to death out there on the shore. She really couldn't.

Once he was gone, she started busying herself around the kitchen. She'd put a load of dishes in the dishwasher before taking Bear on his walk, so she had those to unload and she figured she'd put a pot of water on for either tea or hot chocolate. She wasn't much of a coffee person, so she didn't have one of those fancy coffee makers that seemed to have become a staple in so many people's kitchens. She had a tea kettle somewhere in the cabinets, though she wasn't about to dig through them to find it, so this was going to have to do for the time being. Once the water was on, she started to unload the dishwasher. There wasn't very much to unload, she was only one person so she never really dirtied very many dishes unless she had company over, but she did still like to keep on top of it all. No sense in letting something like that pile up. Of course, laundry was a completely different story. She was always behind on laundry, no matter how hard she tried not to be. There just always seemed to be more laundry that needed to be done. It was like a never-ending cycle.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted when she heard somewhere clear their throat. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he had returned, and he looked ten times better than he had before which brought a smile to her face. She was glad. She'd honestly been starting to worry quite a bit about whether or not taking him here instead of to the hospital was the right idea. He was definitely in better spirits, and he looked much healthier now too than he had before. She was certain that he'd been borderline hypothermic earlier. Now, well, now it was almost as though he hadn't nearly caught his death out there in the cold at all. He has a really nice smile... She was quick to push that thought to the back of her mind. Although he was rather easy on the eyes, she knew that dismissing that thought was rather important. She'd only offered up her place because she had too much of a conscious to leave him out there in the cold.

"You really don't need to keep thanking me." She told him, letting out a quiet laugh. "You look much better by the way. I was worried you were dead when I found you out there." It was almost refreshing that he seemed so grateful for her act of kindness though. There were so many people out there in the world today who wouldn't have even bothered thanking her. It was just how people in today's society were. It was sad but, more often than not, she'd learned not to expect much of anything from anyone. People were far too self-centered and self-absorbed for their own good nowadays. It was sad, really. "I was just about to make myself some hot chocolate if you'd like some?" She offered a small smile as she finished putting away the last of the dishes.

---

Matthew Murdock | The Devil of Hell's Kitchen


There were others who had received their abilities after birth. This wasn't exactly news to Matt. After all, a big green monster helping fight off an alien invasion did warrant even his attention. Her words did make him wonder just how many people there were who were like him out there. Who else had been exposed to something radioactive or unnatural and gained something from it? He was certain that Nydia wasn't the only one who tried to remain under the radar, so just how many were scattered across the city, or even just in Hell's Kitchen? It was something that, maybe somewhere down the road, he'd definitely look into.

"You have my word." He assured her. Once it was clear that a mutual trust had been established, Matt was quick to start in the direction of his apartment. They weren't very far from it now, and now that he knew that he could trust her, he didn't see why going there would warrant any sort of doubt or concern. He wanted to continue their conversation where they would be a lot less likely to be overheard. He knew that it was late, but there were still people who were awake. He wished to keep his identity a secret from the public, and he was certain that Nydia would want to remain undetected if it were at all possible. Needless to say, his apartment was sounding better and better the more he thought about it.

The walk back was rather quiet. Matt didn't mind it though, sometimes silence was nice. He couldn't help chuckling at her words, an amused expression returning to his face. "If you want to call it that." He said. He didn't think that his apartment really screamed secret lair or anything like that, though he supposed it was as secret as it was going to get. He highly doubted that anyone was going to be looking for the Devil of Hell's Kitchen in a blind attorney's apartment. Of course, there was a lot more to him than that, but there were very few people out there who knew that, something he wished to remain as such so long as he could do so.

"It really isn't much of a secret lair." He told her as he led her up to his apartment. Once inside, he waited for her to walk in before closing the door behind him. "I'll just be a minute." He figured that, now that she knew where to find him, revealing his actual identity to her wouldn't be too farfetched at all. He saw no need to leave his mask or soiled and torn clothes on, so he headed off to the bedroom to change into something real quick. If he could trust her enough to bring her to his apartment, he could trust her with his identity. Not a minute later, he was walking back out. "There aren't very many people who know the man behind the mask." He said. "You know where I live now though, so I figured I could trust you with this as well. Matt Murdock." He held his hand out to her.

Loki Laufeyson | The Would-Be King


He wasn't quite sure what hot chocolate was, but it seemed to be a social norm to accept. "That sounds lovely. Th- Er, I appreciate it." Catching himself thanking her the man paused, changing his wording. He hated feeling so weak. So vulnerable. But he was, and he needed to make the most of the situation. As she set to work he silently caught his gaze in the reflection of the kitchen window. She was right, he did look a million times better. His skin while not pink and glowing, was no longer streaked blue. He wasn't practically convulsing with shivers and his teeth had ceased their chattering. Blonde, curly hair looked healthier and more buoyant than before. "Seems I scrubbed some life back into this body." He chuckled, aiming to keep things light and civil with her. Still unsure of how long she'd let him stay, the man was going to be as careful as possible not to piss her off. As he thought the large beast of a dog, Bear and accurately named at that, came over and butted his bony knees with his head; as if saying "Hey! Pet me!" Wordlessly the man complied his large calloused hands gently stroking the top of the dog's head.

The beast was content making happy growly noises beneath it's breath- tail thumping wildly against the chair he was sitting in. It would appear that he had a new best friend. On the small table there lay a menagerie of worn books on the table. Casting his gaze over the worn and loved titles he was relieved to find that he could read. Thank god for that. One title in particular however caught his attention. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. That was the book at the very bottom of the stack and with slender, pale fingers he gently tugged it out letting his gaze greedily read the first couple pages. It was engaging and filled him with the most amusement he had upon finding himself on that beach. For a few short minute and couple pages he was able to drift away from his problems. In concentration his tongue poked out slightly from the corner of his mouth, and nose was scrunched up with a suppressed smile. He was startled out of his readings when a cup was set down in front of him- a heavenly thick sweet aroma drifting up in elegant steam clouds. Carefully setting the book down he peered down in the cup with a small smile. For some reason, this all felt strange to him. The kindness. To not be looked at with fear and scorn.

As he waited for the coca to cool he motioned with one hand towards the book he'd recently set down. "Finn." He stated, and seeing the confusion on her face explained further, "Finn. It's as good a name as next. I thought that might be suffice to be called by until I remember my given name anyway." He explained, a sort of boyish joy in his words. "So, unfortunately I can't give you a background on myself. What about you Elizabeth? What do you do?" There was an innate warmth and genuine curiosity to his words. But it was his eyes. Eyes that fixed her with an open and intense gaze. Piercing blue like the rolling waves of an ocean, the rivers that ran eagerly to join up with the seas and oceans. He wanted to get to know this woman in front of her. Dissect her hobbies and interests with a cool logic to see what kind of person had taken him in. There seemed to be this fear and mistrust ingrained in the freshly self-proclaimed Finn, that he couldn't shake. Not even with her though his brain was sure that she wasn't a threat. Once his drink was cool enough the man was quick to take a greedy, deep gulp- his taste buds exploding with appreciation. It felt like he hadn't had a drink this rich in eons. It slid down his throat in a burning goodness and splashed around his stomach heavy; making him content.

"This is fantastic." There was a humbled, amusing, awe to his voice as Finn stared down at his cup with large eyes. Listening as she shared with him what she would he nodded. It all seemed standard and good. Whether she liked it or not- he'd fine a way to repay her. Who knew maybe he was the lost heir to some fortune. Oh poor baby if he only knew. Bear had flopped down under the table his thick fur tickling his feet. Sobering up once he'd gotten halfway though his drink before speaking up again. "I don't know how long you will allow me here. For whatever the length I am grateful. I can't offer money, not yet- but I will assist you however possible while here." He had seen her doing dishes, and it didn't look that difficult. Whether it was for a couple hours, days, months, or longer- he was going to be as helpful as possible. He hated being a guest who didn't do a damned thing to help the host. Especially the host which had quite literally fished him out of death's cold embrace. Finn would not have survived the night, let a lone a couple more hours, laid out on the beach like that. In a softer voice he admitted, "I utterly despise feeling so... Helpless. So useless." For a moment that cheerful exterior dropped, revealing his inner frustrations.
________________________________________________________________________________

Nydia Langley | The Hidden Enhanced


Nydia wasn't sure what she was expecting when she turned, finding him unmasked and in normal clothes. Perhaps someone who's face had been hideously scarred by some criminal accident pushing them for justice. Maybe an older, rugged man who had seen his family die at the hands of mafia and was avenging their deaths the way the corrupted justice system wasn't. Even a cop who was fed up with the way things worked. But he was none of these things. He was tall, fair-skinned and rather handsome even. To say that his eyes were blue was like saying that the sun was yellow. Sufficient but not accurate to capture the burning color and intensity she hadn't expected him to possess. They clashed magnificently, Nydia's the color of ancient bark which protected trees, free of moss, bright, and youthful. His gaze was cool waters on flames, soft rain on petals, the sky lightening after a storm. And then his hands, larger and more calloused was held out to her, introducing himself as Matthew Murdock. Almost... Shyly Nydia grasped his hands, giving a gentle shake. "Nydia Langley, but you already knew that." For a minute she let their hands linger, clasped before gently letting go and letting the hand fall back to her side- quickly to be stuffed into her jacket pocket.

"There aren't many people who know about me either. Period." She offered. There was some youthful naivety she hadn't lost. That the city hadn't sucked out of her yet and that spoke to how little of the world she had seen. "So... Do you see like a bat?" She had been curious about what he had said about still being able to have an mental image of everything around him. And that made her think of echolocation of sorts. "I don't mean to pry but... You're really interesting." Most people who had been blinded in an accident and given new superhuman abilities would be lost. But- Matt seemed to be making the best of what had happened. Listening as he explained that it wasn't quite like a bat rather, for lack of better words, a world on fire; Nydia couldn't help but draw a little closer to him. Large brown eyes which peered up at him with a thousand thoughts swirling 'bout her head. Seemingly full of surprises she changed the subject once again, turning around and pacing closer to his large windows her shimmer acorn shaded gaze intently searching the night as if expecting to find something out there. "I wish there was a way to find other's you know?" Would't that just be a perfect world? Apps like Facebook though for enhanced humans like themselves.

She had paused for a moment, though after a second's hesitation carried on."I mean we're not all cut out to be heroes. Some of us just do what we can in little ways. Or... Well nothing at all. Keep your head down. Pretend to be normal." It was food for thought as the petite woman exhaled loudly through her nose. "I mean... If there was some assurance we wouldn't be punished for making our presence known- then it might be a hell of a lot easier to find one another. Support group for people who got their abilities in a more... Distressing manner." Nydia wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for here. Someone to understand the things she went through? Just to take in the comfort that she wasn't alone. The neon of the sign illuminated her face, sending shadows over her contorting her face in odd ways. There were a couple of groups out there. Something called the X-Men, though she'd only heard of them a couple times. The Avengers were all the rage as of now. "But I don't blame them for hiding. One person declares support and thinks people like us are good for society, three more come out of the woodwork to condemn us." Keeping up with the news was very important for people like them. Since the reveal of Avengers, of Enhanced and Mutants- several acts had tried to pass making those with the enhanced or mutant gene register themselves.

Some wanted to ban masks completely- but in return teach the mutants how to fight. Nydia was strongly opposed to that. Things were controversial enough that she'd be worried someone was gonna burn down her apartment if they found out what she was. One thing was for sure- the world was changing. Superheroes, aliens, Gods, and monsters alike. Everyone was going to have to learn to co-exist with one another, but there would always be those who wanted things to go back to the way they were. Hopefully, those who were ready to embrace a new world would be the ones to control authority and government. Licking her lips nervously the girl noted as the first snowflake fell down from the sky to melt against Matt's windows. "So, what are your plans out here? Are you taking out the gangs? There's been an awful lot about you and the Russians in the paper's lately." She had no idea of Fisk. Of the evil he threatened on Hell's Kitchen. In most aspects of her life, Nydia Langley was blissfully unawares of the darkness that clung to the city she had come to see as home.

Elizabeth Whiteley | The Midgardian


"Great." Elizabeth sent a small smile his way before she turned to grab two coffee mugs from one of the cabinets. She didn't really know what her plan was from here on out. Was she supposed to allow him to stay longer? She wanted to, despite the fact that he was still pretty much a complete stranger, but was that a wise decision? Some might say even bringing him back to her place in the first place wasn't a wise decision, however what was done was done. There was no way for her to go back in time and change her decision, and she didn't really think that she would change it even if the opportunity were to present itself. He didn't seem like an axe murderer, he actually seemed like a decent person, and she didn't regret assisting him in the slightest.

She let out a quiet laugh at his later words. "Yes, it definitely does seem that way." She agreed. He really did look much better now than he had when she first found him. She wondered why he'd been out there in the cold in the first place. Had someone just left him there to die? If that was the case, how could anyone possibly do that? She really couldn't think of any plausible reasons for doing something like that to anyone. Unless, of course, he really was an axe murderer and someone was hoping that he'd catch his death out there. He didn't seem like the murdering type though as far as she could tell. She glanced over her shoulders when she heard the happy sounds Bear was eliciting. "Oh, he likes you." She said. She was honestly a bit surprised. The dog was rather picky when it came to who he liked, at least, in terms of men anyway. He seemed to have warmed up rather quickly to this guy though. Animals were good judges of character, weren't they? Surely Bear wouldn't like him if he was an axe murderer.

Once the hot cocoa was ready, she sprinkled a little bit of cinnamon on top, something that she always liked on her own, before carrying both over to the table. She set one mug down in front of him before taking a seat across the table. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your reading." She said sheepishly, realizing that she must of startled him. Before she could say much of anything else on the matter, he spoke, his words surprising her enough to elicit a raised eyebrow in response. "Alright, Finn it is then." She smiled, sipping her cocoa. She supposed that would make things a little bit easier for her for the time being. At least now she had a name to call him. She couldn't imagine not being able to remember anything about her own life though. She imagined that it would be rather scary, though he seemed to be handling it better than she assumed that most people would. "I'm a writer." She told him. "It's not exactly the best paying job out there, but it's what I like to do." She wasn't a best-selling author or anything, though she had had a few works published in recent years. She chalked it up as still being new on the scene. Rome wasn't built in a day, and maybe success would come to her later on.

She couldn't help laughing at the awed expression on his face as he took a sip of his cocoa. It was almost like he'd never tasted hot cocoa before, and she wondered if that was actually the case. Or maybe that was just one of the things he'd forgotten as well. His reaction was rather childlike in nature, though she found it to be rather cute. "I hope the cinnamon isn't too much. It's just how I've always liked my own so I made an assumption." She punctuated her words with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "My brother always made fun of me for liking cinnamon in it. Always used to call me a weirdo and tease me about it." She shook her head slightly, a small smile gracing her lips. It was simply how she'd always liked her hot cocoa. She liked it better than marshmallows, which she detested if she was being completely honest.

"Well, I've been doing some thinking, and I have a guest room that's hardly ever used. I couldn't possibly send you out on the streets, especially not at this time of year, so if you wouldn't mind helping out around the house, I wouldn't mind having you here." She said. Again, maybe she was being naive and stupid for allowing a stranger to stay in her home, but she couldn't bring herself to send him out into the world when he couldn't even remember his own name. Some people might have done so, but she could never be so cruel.

---

Matthew Murdock | The Devil of Hell's Kitchen


Her hand was soft to the touch and much smaller than his own. "It's nice to meet you, Nydia." He said, a smile forming on his lips. He really didn't know where he expected any of this to go. He supposed he was just looking for someone who had the potential to understand him. Their abilities were completely different, but she'd understand what it was like to have them. He was sure if he explained it all to Foggy that his friend wouldn't turn him away, but he had yet to bring his friend out of the dark on all of this. Maybe it was stupid of him to trust a complete stranger over his best friend, but Nydia was like him. They had the one thing that he kept a secret from nearly everyone in common.

"The easiest way for me to describe it is that I see everything, but it all looks to be on fire." He told her. It truly was the simplest way he could think of to describe it to her. It was fairly accurate, he thought so anyway, as the world truly did appear to be on fire to him. An easy and accurate description it seemed to be. "There's no need to apologize. I didn't think you were prying, just curious." He was curious about her as well. She was the first person with abilities that he'd ever come face to face with. Curiosity simply came with the territory. That's how he saw it anyway.

"That would certainly make things a lot easier." He agreed. He highly doubted that something like that would actually work. There was a reason so many of these people, much like Nydia, kept their abilities hidden. Even with more recent events and the realization that people like the Avengers and X-Men existed, there were so many closed minded people out there in the world. It was just the world that they lived in today really, and he wasn't sure how likely it was to change, or if it ever would. "It's unfortunate. So few people are willing to open up their minds to new ideas and discoveries. One would think that more people would be willing to do so. After all, I doubt that anyone ever expected the next attack on New York after 9/11 would be led by an Asgardian god." He mused. "I guess some things will never change though." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I do believe it would be better for me not to tell you." He told her honestly. As much as he wanted to, because so few people knew what Fisk was up to, he knew the danger it could potentially put her in if he did so. He was willing to let her see who the man behind the mask was, and that was dangerous enough as it was, but he wouldn't allow her life to be put at risk if she knew his plans. "It's nothing against you. It's just, the people I'm after, they can be very dangerous. And they're very powerful here in Hell's Kitchen..." He hoped that he hadn't offended her in any way.

@ TakingBackTheCrown