Adrian soared into the portal, the black abyss surrounded him and expanded infinitely upon his return, and the light from the exit shined brightly into the blackness like the end of a long tunnel. The white streams of light passed him in a mere haze as he flew out the portal's exit. He crashed onto the pristine floor face first; a mere grunt left his throat before his feet dropped to the floor behind him. "Argh," he groaned, attempting to sit up, "son of a bitch."

"And he sticks the landin'. I expected you to be longer than twenty minutes, though," a voice to his left said. 

"That makes two of us," Adrian rose with quivering body and hands as he rubbed his aching face. 

"What happened?"

"I lost.”

"I could’ve guessed that, considerin' the way you caught your fall with your face," Medic’s eyes scanned Adrian. "Aside from the fall, you don't seem injured, although…” he said as his eyes looked him up and down.
 
"Yeah, turns out I didn't need you anyway," he turned and walked toward the door to leave, but was stopped by Medic.
 
"Hold your horses, boy. You have hypothermia and need treatment. Come on, off to the bathroom. You'll have to get warm, so you'll have to take off those wet clothes, and I think I can find some spares for you to wear while I find some towels to dry and warm you up."

Adrian raised an eyebrow at this as he turned toward him, “That was a pretty quick diagnosis, and you didn’t even ask me how I was feeling.”
 
"One of my many gifts, now go and take off your clothes.”
 
[b][i]Dillon, her room in Benjamin's mansion[/b][/i]

Dillon rubbed her aching eyes, [i]"Dammit. I can't do anything."[/i] Dillon sat in the chair in front of the desk in her room. Multiple tools such as pliers, a screwdriver, and a C.A.M. laser laid sprawled out around the metal boots. The metal soles of the boots had been removed, revealing a series of wirings and smaller tubes of blue liquid that coursed hurriedly back and forth through them. 

[i]"The boots lack the propulsion power and capacity to properly propel me in the air for extended periods of time. If I make them any larger to make more room for the ignition liquid, the metal would be too heavy for me to fly properly. I need another propulsion source."[/i]

She stood up, her chair moving back as her legs straightened. She stretched her tired arms and legs and yawned, [i]"I was going to ask Benjamin for money since there's only so much funding S.U.P.E.S. can give me, but it felt... weird asking him,"[/i] she sighed as she ran her fingers through her red hair. [i]"I wonder what's going on in the mansion..."[/i] Dillon opened the door to her room and closed it behind her as she walked into the hallway. The hallway was decorated with paintings ranging from bland, odd and disturbing to beautiful, colorful and mesmerizing. There was always something to catch the eye, but all for different reasons. 

As Dillon walked along the hallway, taking in every painting she passed, she reached the stairs that led to the first floor of the mansion and living room. Descending the steps and walking into the living room she immediately saw servants dashing and hurrying in front and behind her. Furniture was positioned all around the massive eighty inch television screen, turned to a first person shooter, ready to be played. Multiple counters had been set with various snacks and beverages, and behind them stood servants ready to serve anyone who came to them. 

Dillon turned to the left and walked out into the sparkling white grand hall with towering, white pillars. Above Dillon loomed a massive, sparkling, and immaculate chandelier from the tall ceiling, and the countless, clear diamonds reflected the pure white tile floor. A pillar of large, white balloons tightly hugged the otherwise empty walls next to the wide, spiraling staircase, which was an alternate route to the second floor. To the side and out of the way rested a DJ's booth where the faint sound of remixed music could be heard. [i]"Whoa. He's really going all out this time."[/i]

"I was hoping you'd wear something different than your usual," a voice said to Dillon's right. She turned to look at Benjamin who was clad in a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and a grey vest with white dress pants and shoes.
 
She looked down at her blue tank top, jeans, and sneakers then back to Benjamin, "Sorry to disappoint you, but this is way too comfortable to change,” just then a tray of orange and bubbling alcohol passed them, filled to the brim in clear wine glasses. “By the way, have any of the teachers or the headmaster… said anything? About the parties, I mean."

"Nope. Humans tend to stay away, except for the ones who work here, of course, and they won't complain to the school considering what I'm paying them. My mansion is also pretty isolated, so no one will be bothered by rowdy teens. And with the whole, 'Don't engage or inflict bodily or mental harm to your fellow Supes outside of supervised training and battle,' which - surprisingly - everyone follows, so they don't seem to care."

"And you serving alcohol to minors?"

"Human cops turn a blind eye when I throw good ol' Benjamin and Grant their way," he said as he held out his hand, and in the palm of it a green hundred and fifty dollar bill materialized. "Funny how easy it is to manipulate humans with money."

Dillon raised an eyebrow at this.

"No offense."

"Yeah, yeah. So, when is the party suppose to start?"

Benjamin pulled back his sleeve and looked at the watch on his wrist. "Forty-five minutes."