[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjgwLjA3YmRlOS5RMkZzSUUxalJHRnVhV1ZzLjA,/6th-aniversario.ffp.png[/img]
[img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/6e464721655154a091f84e1d4735d39e/tumblr_inline_nrdypzkb5h1sn95bh_500.gif[/img]
[color=deepskyblue]Location:[/color] Downtown -> The Watchtower Kitchen
[color=deepskyblue]Interacting with:[/color] No one in particular
[hr][/center]

Nighttime in the city was Cal's favorite time. With the sun buried under the horizon line and the moon reigning from it's distant throne in the sky, the city had a new life breathed into it. Atop the Watchtower, looking down on the city, Cal would smile as lights sparkled and horns honked, the nightlife over taking the hustle and bustle of the day. He could stand on the edge of the roof and simply watch down at his city, the one he'd sworn to protect. Now days, he couldn't help but feel like he'd failed. The mayor was dead, and the public hated them.

He shook his head. It wasn't the public. They still had a majority approval rating. It just felt like they'd lost the support of their city. He took a deep breath and exhaled. The incident with the mayor had hit the entire team hard, but Cal took the whole situation pretty rough. Normally positive and upbeat, the growing voices of dissent had put him into a funk of sorts, one that saw him moping a lot more than usual, and spending his nights out in the city, rather than in the Watchtower.

In the Watchtower, Cal had to, in some capacity, wear the mantle of Nox. Even when he was off duty, he'd always feel like Nox there, and Nox had failed that day. He'd been cocky and had underestimated that psychopath's strength, and he'd almost gotten a lot of people hurt or killed, not to mention the risk he'd taken with his own life. They all had. But out in the city, that was erased, for a brief moment. Cal didn't have to be Nox out there, he could be Cal McDaniel, and Cal McDaniel was nothing more than a simple college student who liked open mic nights and cute boys.

Cal suddenly realized how close to falling he was. Arms outstretched, the wind played a game of lightly nudging him, and every so often he'd teeter on the edge as if he was toying with the dangerous idea of stepping forward into the empty air, and plunging to the solid ground below. And then, he took the step. And as he plunged towards the ground, his body dissipated from the bottom up, into a dark cloud that drifted up above the city, letting the wind take it into the heart of Detroit.

Losing your body was an otherworldly experience. That was the best way that Cal could describe it. Really, he found that it was difficult to word the sensation of existing in hundreds of separate particles, each with their own feelings. He could only describe how ethereal it felt, how he wished that everyone could feel the level of invincibility that he felt when he was in this form.

Shortly after his takeoff, Cal materialized in a back alley behind a nearly empty bar. Taking a deep breath, Cal strode out into the well lit and well populated street that was a staple of the nightlife in a big city like Detroit. The bar that Cal stood outside of was called The Nook. It wasn't memorable, a place that most stumbled into while they were already far too wasted, Cal had been led to it by an ex boyfriend who he had a bad habit of following around. 

Okay. Maybe there was another reason that Cal liked the city so much now days.

Slipping in, Cal made his way unnoticed to an empty booth, where he watched said ex boyfriend perform a song at the front of the bar, his eyes never looking up from the guitar in his hand. He spent most of his nights here, Cal that was, watching Logan, the one that had got away. This was his most well kept secret. Even the team, the people he considered family, didn't know about this.

Once Logan's performance ended a light applause swept through the bar and the speakers took up the tune of some song that Cal had heard on the radio too many times. Logan on the other hand, made his way over to the booth where Cal sat and took his seat.

[b]"Hey."[/b]

[b][color=deepskyblue]"Hey, I...uh...I was,"[/color][/b] Cal stammered. He was shocked that Logan even knew he was here, let alone that he was acknowledging him. The time since there breakup had been characterized by an icy silence that Cal had always found too frightening to break.

[b]"Look Cal, you need to stop coming around. Not just here but, everywhere. I know you're looking out for me, cause that's what you do, but it's a bit much."[/b]

Cal looked up at Logan and nodded. [b][color=deepskyblue]"Yeah, yeah of course. I'm sorry."[/color][/b] Cal made to get up from the table, his hands shaking with a sudden cocktail of anxiety and sadness. Here he was, rejected one more time. On his way out the door he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Logan and suddenly his face lit up with thoughts of what could be.

[b]"Cal, I am sorry about what they're saying. I know...I know you tried your best."[/b]

Cal simply nodded and stepped backwards, out of the bar. Looking up at the lonely moon, Cal couldn't help but get swept up in the night, for once going with the crowd of drunks and joining their ranks, taking shot after shot at sleazy bars that wouldn't card him. The night soon blurred together until he was stumbling the few blocks to the Watchtower.

At home, he fell into a heap on his bed and let the pleasant milky wave of sleep that he'd been fighting all night finally overtake him and carry him into a land of vodka fueled dreams that featured the faces of Logan, the mayor, and the man who'd killed him. That man, who's face seemed to haunt his every move.

His dreams were cut short by light piercing the window and drawing him back into the land of the living, a land he'd preferred to keep in his rear view mirror. But he was up now, might as well make the most of it. He padded out into the kitchen, one sock missing, and began going about making coffee. Coffee was good, coffee was safe, and coffee helped with a hangover. Nathan had taught him that. Cal loved the residential floor of the Watchtower, the sense of home it had. It was this sense that kept a smile on his face as he began brewing coffee, making a full pot on the off chance that one of the Watchtower's other residents may venture down for a drink. He figured he'd see someone, though Nathaniel was probably still tied up with his press conference.