[h2][color=slategray]Eclipse[/color][/h2][color=gray]SDN Claremont[/color]
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Eclipse watches as Lightning Girl speaks with Payback. So that's who his other teammate was. Interesting. He squints his eyes at Payback, then looks back at Lightning Girl. There was a big difference between the two, aside from the obvious: one dressed like a hero and acted the part; the other didn't.

He shrinks a bit as Lightning Girl moves her attention to him. 

Okay, [i]wow[/i]. Either it was the whole electricity thing or her costume, but she is [i]bright[/i].

[quote][color=gold]"Suppose you're a shadowy kinda crack lord."[/color] Lightning Girl chirpily observed, watching him. [color=gold]"Straight up vampire, or just umbrakinesis though?"[/color][/quote]
He stares at her blankly as she puts on a set of rubber gloves. It takes him about 30 seconds before he finally responds. He steps a little closer to the light, just an inch or so, but enough to prove a point. [color=slategray]"Just an umbrakinetic. Would you have preferred a vampire?"[/color]

[color=slategray]"And for the record, I had to quit dealing,"[/color] he huffs. Phoenix Program paid well, at least, but he made more dealing drugs with Red Ring, [color=slategray]"They wouldn't let me in unless I did."[/color] He doesn't move back, but the corner's shadows seem to catch up to him; a demonstration of his power, albeit a simple one. Also, he didn't like the stale office lights. 

The empty Cheeto bag crinkles a bit. He cleans his hand with a napkin before shoving it into the bag; he'd throw it out later.

[quote][color=gold]"You alright?"[/color] She asked, an open question to ask someone in withdrawal from doing drugs, but with a genuine bit of care.[/quote]
Oh.

[b][i]Oh.[/i][/b]

That was a personal question for someone like him. Was it that obvious? He only looked at his reflection a few times before teleporting here, but he didn't notice any obvious withdrawal signs. Outside the bags under his eyes. And the fact that he was itching for some kind of dopamine hit. And the fact that he was quite literally getting weaker without his homemade drug.

It was that obvious.

He's half ready to blurt out a lie or a non-answer until he hears something he hasn't heard in a long time. Actual, real concern. That was new. And weird. Couldn't even remember the last time someone gave a shit about his health outside of his aging parents, and even then, it's been years since he last saw them.

[color=slategray]"No."[/color] It comes out as a whisper. His helmet comes on immediately after, his voice now strange and metallic due to the voice changer he installed. [color=slategray]"Do you have any more Cheetos?"[/color]

Was that the benefit of being a hero? People actually giving a shit about you? Did Red Ring care about him? Did [i]Shroud?[/i] As far as he could tell, they did. About the drugs, at least, and he was one of the best dealers around. If anything, he was one of the luckier members, considering his suit didn't fall apart after whatever the hell happened to Shroud. He was lucky to not opt into any of those high-tech augments they offered; he preferred this kind of armor anyway, even if it was a hassle to work with.

Whatever. It didn't matter. As long as he did his job somewhat well, then bare minimum, he might be allowed to produce that darkness drug for himself again. That was all that mattered.

And their vending machine snacks.

He fucking [i]loves[/i] the chips they have.