In the middle cart of a train, coming back to New Haven from the city of York New, things were quiet. Soft chatter from passengers on their phones, calling loved ones or work, all with plans on their mind. The turning pages of a book as the paper creased under calloused hands, the muffled sound of someone's music as it blared through their headphones and turning their ear drums to mush. A packed cart, of people having the horror of sitting next to silent strangers. 

Aurora herself wasn't paying much mind to the person on her left. A pod cast of various incidents in New Haven updated while she was waiting to get home. Her interest sparked a while ago, only to give way to mute irritation as the voices in her head phones went back and forth, explaining a robbery who just had to be Variants as well. 


[color=00aeef]"With the variants Flea and Noxia detained, the city is once again left with a disturbing question. The building behind me is still up in flames, the damage done only by two people with no casualties as of yet."[/color]

[color=f6989d]"Tom, I'd just like to ask, why we haven't cracked down on Variants yet. I myself just reading about Flea to see he doesn't seem too dangerous, but the footage is saying something else. Imagine if there was someone worse in that little team up to act out crimes for something that could have an actual body count?"[/color]

[color=00aeef]"My own opinion is to just let Variants take care of Variants, it's time to have more officers be aloud to use and train with their abilities to hunt these people dow-
[/color]


She turned off the podcast, the words humming in her ears, leaving a foul taste in her mouth. She hasn't even set foot back home yet, and she was already listening in on the war in the streets. It didn't take much to find out that Manny was in the fray, it would honestly be surprising if he wasn't in the heart of any and all vigilante work since she left. Still, she couldn't help but sigh, air passing her lips as she felt Goliath shift on her feet. 
How were the others doing? The vigilantes? The masked faces and bare voices were more of her family then she could have called her mother and father. Her phone still buzzing none stop as it tried to catch up on the messages that was sent to her over the last six months. One after the other, voice mail after voice mail of angry cries and threats of her coming back home only to give way to quiet whispers of apologies and begging words to get her to come home. She stopped listening after the first few hours, only so much guilt she could take in one day after all. 

Fingers running absently over the buttons on her coat as she leaned against her seat and allowed the world to move past her in the rocking train car. The albino wasn't doing much, just pressing the buttons on a simple mp3 player that wrapped around her head, before closing her cloudy eyes. Even then, she could still feel the eyes of the girl in the seat next to her own. The smell of a freshly brewed coffee steaming to her side, making her only slightly jealous. She been drinking the stuff pretty much none stop for the last few months cause of her job, and even now she'd probably kill for another one just to keep her brighter eyed. 

It was a long train ride, a boring one after a long job, a terrible one. Her hands were bandaged, arm finally out of it's cast. Bags under her eyes, while a sleepy smile played on her lips as the automatic voice binged in the car. [i]"New Haven Train station"[/i] The shift in her mood causing Goliath to sit up, her hand finding his head with her perked ears. "Almost home boy, You'll be able to sleep in your bed soon." She could almost feel the stubby tail wiggle as her train buddy wordlessly reached up and ruffled through their hanging luggage. A quiet "here ya go" only for her to feel her duffel bag dwarf her lap as she let out a yelp. 


Feeling the train groan to a halt. Aurora couldn't wait much longer as she collected herself and her dog before the beast began to drag her off. She never wanted to visit that city again, never wanted to do that again. The smell of garbage and smoke, with the sounds of tired groans and rude remarks, was still better then the six months of hell she just had to deal with. Her boots clicking on the station's tile floor, she fished for her phone again, holding it to her lips as she spoke with a grin. "Text Mop Top....I'm home."