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Ciro sighed angrily, plodding on behind Fish. What was with every other player and being nice to newbies? Ciro simply saw them as easy pickings. Why help them to potentially become more powerful? Those ties were only going to do you harm when the kids became more powerful and more determined to win.

"You do realize the point is to kill them off, not save their lives, right?"

Regardless of his wit, Ciro continued to follow. He came to talk to Fish, but he was perfectly capable of multitasking.

"Hey, not that I can tell... But the power is out, right? You know anything about that?"

"Yeah, I think it's out everywhere," said Fish, nodding although he knew Ciro couldn't see the gesture. "We came from the Scene, and it was dark all through Middling."

He cast his eyes upwards, looking through the space between the buildings to where the towers of Uppers stood dark against the lightening sky. They were out, too. Except then one light winked on, and then another, and a third. Fish waited for the power to spread, but it didn't. "It looks like someone has a generator up in one of the Uppers towers."

Was that the Blacksuit HQ they had broken into a few months ago? He couldn't tell from here. All the buildings looked the same...

Then Quinn returned and Fish let out an annoyed sigh. "Kid, your mother is probably perfectly fine," he said. "This is the Game. We're on a mission. You can't go running to Mommy and Daddy - the Game's a secret."

Quinn frowned, and hung his head. "I guess you're right. But, what DO we have to do? That still isn't very clear," He turned away from his house. "Grrruff will watch out for her, anyway," He nodded. "I'll go wherever you want me to go,"

"And don't call me a brat," He pouted. Turning back down the road he had ran, he begrudgingly walked. He spun a can of spray paint that he brought out from somewhere absentmindedly in his hand.

"I hate this stupid dark! Light is so much better. Especially pretty light," He grinned, "We must find out the cause of this and fix it! Our superhero team has a mission!"

"Damn, man, when did your balls fall off? Playing babysitter's club to a bunch of noobies..."

Ciro turned, now quietly strolling along, hands in pocket, and trying to think of whether or not he had any reason or desire to stay.

"So... Let me clarify. We don't know anything. So you want to get a bunch of snotnose brats to help you go look for why this is happening... And maybe stop it."

Stopping, Ciro thought once more about the perks verses the benefits.

"I dunno, man. If there's not blood to spill, I think I'm out. The boogieman doesn't effect me one way or the other."

Fish glared daggers at Quinn - shutupshutupshutup - and folded his arms stubbornly across his chest. "If you want to go," he said, "And get tranqued by blacksuits and wake up with your balls shaved in a cell somewhere, go ahead." Except Fish didn't really know what Blacksuits did to people they captured - he'd just been watching too many late-night conspiracy thrillers and let his imagination do the rest.

"Ciro," he hissed, "I don't know how long you've been out of it or what, but the Alliances came back. They were gone for months, and now they're back. Something's got the gods on edge."

Quinn steamed quietly. 'Queer' He says. He had been made fun of before and could handle himself, but he knew he had no chance against this guy. Besides, he was already blind- not much Quinn could do to distract him. His fist clenched and unclenched. This guy wasn't cool anymore.

"'Him?" Quinn muttered questioningly, but he realized he was being ignored at this point, so he shut his mouth. All this anger can't be healthy for them. He sighed, and just decided to watch the two duke it out. He held up his hand and a small, brightly colored star popped up in the center of his palm. He played around with it, making it float around and dissapear, before popping back into existence a moment later. It's strange, why do my eyes not burn when I look at it? Mr. Q was silent, and Quinn frowned. He usually commented a lot more then he was. He decided to dismiss it, but a voice popped into his head suddenly.

GOD OF QUEERS? WHO THE HELL DOES HE THINK HE IS? KILL HIM. KILL HIM AND MAKE HIM DIE A HORRIBLE, PAINFUL DEATH.

That was the last and final straw. Alliances be damned. Stupid strategies be damned. ******** it all. It was just bullshit. Lips curling into a vulgar smile, Ciro felt his fists clench-- he could feel his blood heating and rising, battle instinct kicking in for the first time in a long time. Veins began to protrude from his skin, the blood could not run fast enough. It was thrilling, invigorating to think that he would get to fight again.

"You gotta be ******** me. You really think that's a good idea?"

In a split instant, like a loosed hurricane, Ciro returned fire, landing a heavy first into Fish's cheek.

He waited, muscles still tensed. Although he withheld his strength, Ciro was still tense and ready to continue if the need be.

"If a man break another man's bone, his bone shall be broken. "

His body still tensed, Ciro's face contorted to a look of near disgust.

"Remember that: I'll pay you back a hundredfold."

Quinn twittered back and forth anxiously. "I'm just, you know, getting a big feeling of, you know, hostility around, and, you know, maybe we should, you know, not fight, and stuff?" He wrung his hands nervously.

"C'mon fish, let's not- Ciro, there's no reason to-" He winced, "Ooh, that's gotta hurt." Quinn realized quickly that this was not going well. He had picked a bad day (night?) to sleep with hippies.

He pondered his options. Stay, fight the loser, and lose- This led to possible death, which wasn't cool. Stay, immediately join the fight, lose- This also led to possible death, which was also very not cool. Third option, Run. Run run runnidy run run. Runnidy- this did not lead to possible death unless he ran into something uncool. Therefore, it was his best option.

Unfortunately, he got so excited about running that he panicked. He knew Ciro was blind, but he was afraid fish would stop him (however unreasonable). He shot out his palm towards fish's face, making a little tiny pinpoint of bright light in front of his face.

Look at it, look at it, look at it.

He didn't bother to find out the outcome. Quinn ran.