[i]Safe House, Brooklyn[/i]

It took him a couple of fly-by’s around the city, but Diego finally found the safe house. It was an old building, right in the middle of what he would call “skid row” if he was back in California. Diego landed right behind a group of homeless people, who stared at him wide-eyed. He turned his head to one of them, then held his finger up to his lips. He turned his head to the middle of the group, and looked into the almost empty garbage can in the middle. It had a small flame, barely enough to keep the already soaking wet group warm. 

The young man sighed, and walked slowly into the middle. A ball of fire appeared in the palm of his hand, and then was thrown into the can. The fire grew about four times its original size. The homeless stared at him, thankful but afraid all the same. Diego nodded slightly and turned and walked into the building. [i]That’s my good deed for the normals today.[/i]

For the most part, Diego remained quiet as he navigated his way through the building. He made sure to float through the halls, that way he wouldn’t be detected if the Feds had somehow found out about the place, which, by how safe houses seemed to be falling left and right, wouldn’t be that long. 

After he turned another corner, he heard a familiar voice. His face lit up almost instantly, and he floated as fast as he could to the doorway. Thankfully, it was dark enough that they wouldn’t be able to see him, although he had a feeling Julius had already detected him roaming the halls; hopefully he had chosen not to say anything.

“Hey, Jules, do you think there’s food here, or do you want me to go on a supply run? ... I feel like if you go anywhere you’ll get caught. You shouldn’t be walking out there alone at least.”

Diego shook his head and took a small step into the room.

“And neither should you, Mari. I mean, not without someone like me to make sure you make it back safe and sound, and in once piece.”