[color=ed1c24]Date: New Year's Day, 2026 Time: 4:44 P.M , Location: Boston's Redlight District/ Boston's Manufacturing District[/color]
	
	So waiting for the sun to set was much more boring than Carter anticipated; so was the unfriendliness of the alley rats, if the various bite marks on his now uncovered hands were anything to go by. [color=00aeef][i]I have no one to blame but myself if I die from rabies, but I will still go on a rat murdering spree anyway, because … murder[/i].[/color] Carter probably should be concerned with his own train of thought concerning the death of innocent rodents, being a superhero and all, but he waved them off as him being overly tired and potentially infected with an aggressive inducing virus. [color=00aeef][i]Can one suck out rabies, like with snake venom?[/i][/color] Carter, now curious, brought his hand to his mouth and began sucking harshly on the wound; the only result being a horrible taste in his mouth and a strangely placed hickey.

	[color=0072bc][i]Welp that didn’t work and my attention span is now completely depleted, time to go home. [/i][/color]And with that, Carter was off once more; returning his gloves to their rightful place on his hands before removing his mask and the outer garments of his costume. Now he just had to hope that no one thought the boy walking down the street shirtless and holding a bundle of clothes was a stripper and asked for his “service”. 

	With confidence that only a man with no shame could exude Carter exited the alley and strutted down the street without even blinking. He had managed to wait out the sun until dusk so while there were fewer people on the street, there were still people wandering about, occasionally staring at the young-old man. He greeted them all with the appropriate amount of pizzazz and finger guns.

	It took him a good hour, and two cops on two separate occasions asking him if he was ok, before he reached his hideout. The old warehouse stood proudly against the rest of the dilapidated factories that had been shut down for more years than anyone could remember. [color=00aeef][i]Well, I remember it… but you get the point. Who am I talking to?[/i][/color] Carter paused for a moment, contemplating, before shrugging and entering his home. He had work to do.

	He barely bothered to throw his costume to the side, letting it hit the cement floor with a small thud of his mask, before sitting down by his salvaged desk. It was chaotic really, the entire thing piled to the point where it was near collapse from the sheer weight of  plans, intel, and Carter’s own crazed conspiracy theories. It was a chaos Carter could work with though, as with ease he shifted a few papers to find his folder on the thief he had just failed at apprehending. With a fountain pen the vigilante wrote frantically, documenting  every single new fact he had discovered about his foe while simultaneously writing down on another sheet a new strategy for capturing him. 

	[color=00aeef][i]Before I thought he was just an exceptionally skilled cat burglar, but with powers like that it is easy to assume that he will soon be moving onto bigger game, potential games that could lead to serious civilian damages[/i].[/color] Carter stood up as he wrote, sending his busted wheely chair sprawling to the other end of the room, [color=00aeef][i] His power means I’m going to need the element of surprise: guns and bow fighting are out. Snipping and long distance bombs are the way to go. Finding out his next target will be rough though, I would be better off trying to find his lair, then I would really get him by surprise…..[/i][/color]

	In an element of rarely seen seriousness, Carter spent the rest of the night in complete and utter silence. His only movement was the racing speed of his writing and his mouth occasionally speaking his thoughts without a sound. He had a job to do, nothing could stop him from that.