[H1][Center][Color=f7941d]Might, The Mightiest of the Mighty.[/color][/center][/h1]

It had been a few months since he'd been out of the hospital, he'd gotten his bill and was now a few thousand in debt. Healing a bit better than normal humans is nice, but medical treatment for those wounds still costs money. Regardless of how well they heal, and that was the big problem that he was dealing with. On top of that, he'd managed once again to fail to make any real difference in the grand scheme of things. The mutation bomb issue had been resolved by other heroes who were more efficient at dealing with it than he was, and he had only saved one guy's life. 

Not saying that's a bad thing, at all, making a difference to one person is more than enough to be a hero. But looking like he does, acting like he does, and having the powers that he does. There was really only two options left in life for him. Become a hero, or become a sideshow freak. One of those was definitely not at all worth the humiliation, and the other was proving to be a hassle. If he could find other heroes, maybe grow some connections between himself and them, maybe he'd be able to be on the scene to help deal with issues. 

Where were the heroes though? 

Well, not owning a computer himself, Arthur decided that the city library would be the perfect location for him to start.

He found himself in the public library of an, admittedly, nicer area than he was living. After a little bit of research he was more than confident that he'd find a bit of work to do in Lost Haven. High volumes of organized crime was not something he would normally be happy about, but in this particular case he might be able to do more good. Maybe put a stop to a criminal organization or world invading alien fleet, or something along those lines. 

He stood and walked towards the librarian desk clerk and handed her his library card, asking a couple questions. [Color=f7941d]"How many pages am I allowed to print? Also, how long does it take to print?"[/color] She gave him a few curt answers, seeming to not wish to make direct eye contact with him. For a moment he had forgotten the strangeness of his appearance and had simply walked up to a woman who was wholly unprepared for otherworldly perfection. 

It was probably more awkward for her than it was for him, he no longer objectified himself. He had been married, he had a wife and child. Though they thought him dead, and wouldn't believe him if he told them it was him.

After the awkward discourse, a few minutes to print out a map of Lost Haven, and a couple pages to practice his psuedo-ye-Olde talk, Might was ready to go.

Another hour or so later and he was home, packing a dufflebag with fresh clothes to last a few weeks and a train ticket from Manhattan to Maine. 

It would take a while, but Might would be in Maine within the week.