The alley behind the bar was dank with mold, moss, and drunken lollygaggers. A stream of hissing smoke spilled from Cyclonus' mouth as he watched the shadows that flickered at the edge of the cesspool's entrance. To his left the darkness swirled around the single light bulb over the red door, beckoning addicts of any and all poisons inside. He flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground and stood out in the path when the handle twisted. It stopped, slowly letting go as if something was holding them back. Finally, resolved, the door opened inward. The massive man that filled the doorway with glowing red eyes chuckled lowly as he walked down the seemingly small stairs.

"You look so menacing. It doesn't suit you," the voice rumbled, chuckling as he tapped the end of his cigar, gleaming ash and cinders dusting the ground as he approached his old friend. "You smell… who is she?"

Cyclonus couldn't pretend to be surprised. Temperance came home smelling like sweet gardenia blossoms and Rewonda's cigarettes. Flowers, however, trump smoke. The broad man chuckled and nudged his comrade in the shoulder.

"Call your men off," the taller one said curtly, not there for the indulgence or company.

"Oh… well, you know. Large armies, ducks wandering away from the rows… Can't help if they smell something sweet and window shop," he shrugged, smirking as he took another long drag from the cigar.

The air between the two crackled violently even in its own silence. The larger of the two knew Cyclonus seldom became so serious or even bothered to trudge through society's muck to warn him to stay away. This one was special. Thusly, he could twist the knife as he saw fit.

"She has white hair, doesn't she?" He mused, the end of his cigar glowing as he took a long drag inward like a seething dragon. "They always have white hair. Rewonda, Drift, even Star… they always have that silvery light in them. But you know what to do with light best, don't you? Even the brightest whites are only good until they're stained."

Galvatron, the lord of all untouchables, watched as his old friend's fist balled angrily. It was the only reaction he wanted and he got it. He savored the sour look that was more than just general disinterest on the taller man's face. He snickered and gripped his shoulder, watching as Cyclonus poured all his hatred into one stare.

"People are never arbitrarily followed, Cyc. Don't make the mistake in thinking I don't have reasons."

Even after Galvatron's hand had faded into a shadow and felt like nothing more than an aftershock of a great earthquake against his skin, Cyclonus felt sour. His stomach knotted as he turned, still never showing it. Besides, it was already too early to be out. Four in the morning was a strange time.

The eye staring over Temperance was a curious one, golden gleaming and wondering. The girl on the bed was in fact not usually the grumpy fossil of a man and if anything the girl was incredibly spritely looking. She was far too cute and alive to be in such a place. He brushed a length of her hair aside and saw just how radiant the girl was. But that still didn't explain why she was in, of all places, the micro-packed apartment of a legendary asshole.

"Galvatron, maybe… Hell, even a dog… but why a cute girl?" The voice wondered aloud, placing hands on either of Temperance's side and leaning in dangerously close. He squinted at her, sniffing the heavy flower scent and wondering what the hell was the deal. "Who are you?"

Just as the person above the girl had said that she roused, stretching and jolting when her skin contacted another's. Her eyes flew wide as she saw a dark skinned boy with black hair and one gold eye leaning over her. Instincts acting before reason, she let out a piercing scream that deafened the man overtop of her. It echoed in near silence across the city, somehow only reaching Cyclonus' ears. He instantly began running, scaling a wall and favoring roof tops to get back to Temperance as fast as he could.

Back inside the apartment the boy with one gold eye was covering his ears and wincing, having landed on a bad wound. He was cursing up a storm and stumbling to stand to his full height, frightening taller than most. He narrowed his eye, teeth grinding as Temperance scampered back to the farthest corner of the bed, heart throbbing and aching. How had he gotten in? All the locks were locked and he didn't look the type to have a key.

"Augh… damn it," the man winced again, rubbing his head. "What the hell you do that for?!"

Just then the door was kicked open, Cyclonus barreling in and slamming the man up against the wall. His eyes were a vicious red, teeth sharp in a snarl as he grabbed the now laughing and smirking man by his throat. He choked on an 'uncle' as Cyclonus held him in place. "I submit. Look, lady, call your dog off."

"D-dog?" Temperance stammered, face turning pink. Cyclonus only slammed the man into the wall again, cracks fissuring out behind him. "Okay, okay."

"Why are you here?"

"Admittedly I came to steal some cash. I'm broke, but then I got blindsided by this angel, a living breathing human, in your bed who did not look horridly ravished, bloody, traumatized, or turned. Thus, I lingered. Sue me," he coughed, snickering.

"L-let him go," Temperance blurted, covering her mouth. No, she needed to say that. "I-it's not worth it. He didn't touch me o-or anything. It's okay."

The one in his clutches watched as Cyclonus' grip got looser before he let his feet touch the floor, the spider web crack behind him deep into the wall. The younger one gave a sighing laugh of relief, thankful he wasn't going to break or lose anything else at the hands of clear, black and white injustice. Obviously.

"Smart lady. She's really great. She good in bed? She looks flexible," he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, gleaning the mood from the girl's face, it didn't go over well. The last thing he remembered was a streak of red light as Cyclonus turned around with a fist flying through the air and then collapsing to the ground in a heap of limbs.

Cyclonus had offered to reheat some more left overs for Temperance as the man, named Whirl apparently, sat in a heap of blood nose and bruises by the wood stove. She graciously accepted the food, nice and warm, and sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the man. The pilot could see her curiosity and only leaned against the wall with a blood pack and made sure that he didn't move.

"So… who is he again?"

"He's a trouble making, trigger happy errand boy with his own agenda and one eye," Cyclonus explained, sucking on the pack.

"And… he got in…?"

"You forgot to lock the window locks. I should have told you," he took the blame, sucking his teeth clean as Temperance's gaze lingered. The teeth were sharp, but nothing as they were before. She turned back to her food and thought more and more about what she'd gotten into. Did her parents miss her? Was she being looked for?

However, before her worrisome thoughts could derail her very being Cyclonus simply muttered, "Temperance," seeing how flustered she was becoming. The surprisingly gentle timber of the man's voice immediately spread warmth and calm through her. She nodded nervously, finishing her food and fidgeting with her hands. Finally sighing Cyclonus, again, knowing, nodded.

Temperance went to check on Whirl and made sure he wasn't bleeding too much. Empathetic to a fault, the girl tried to lay him down so that he was at least comfortable. She got blood on her hands and jumped, but kept trying to help him. She was getting jittery and nervous, shoulders shaking as the blood smeared on her hands and knees. What was it about that deep red that was so frightening? Cyclonus grabbed the girl gently by the wrist, helping her up. "That's enough."

He led her over to the sink and held her hands under the water, rubbing the blood away. Temperance bit her lip as stinging tears streamed down her face. Her heart ached and she didn't know if anyone missed her and she felt like she was lying to keep composure. Why was just being normal again so hard? What difference did eleven minutes make from eleven years really?

Pretending not to notice her strained hiccups and sobs, Cyclonus ran a towel over the girl's hands to dry them off. He took off that large jacket and swung it around her shoulders. Her cheeks and nose were pink, palms now a similar shade from cleaning, reminding Cyclonus of a frightened child running back in from the bitter snowy cold. He simply pressed a knowing hand on her shoulder before guiding her from the apartment.

"Wh-what about Whirl?" She sniffed.

"Medics are already on their way," the man said softly, shutting the door behind him.

When the First Aid Brigade got there Whirl was spitting blood off the side of the building with his nose crooked and his eye black. He smiled at the red haired nurse, flashing a toothy grin. He reached out, the medic simply ducking disapprovingly.

"Come on, don't be like that."

First Aid was his hospital nickname because he was so good at doing his job and working with very little. However, he was working with too much now. Whirl was bloodied and his nose was broken. It would have to be reset and his injuries patched up. He was tired of running after him with a first aid kit and a frown. Why did he always have to put himself in the line of fire like that?

"Come here," First Aid sighed, beckoning Whirl with a hand gesture. "Bend down."

"Oh, a kiss? I thought you'd never off—AUGH!" He screamed, First Aid roughly resetting his nose. "Fucking shit, what even? Fucking hell!"

"Fully deserved."

Cyclonus, on the rarest of occasions, had gone outside during sun up hours. He usually just avoided it because too many people stared and whispered, but the apartment wasn't a good place at the time. Temperance was shaken enough for one day. Instead of skimming along alleyways as the pilot might have done when he was alone they walked down quaint back streets, avoiding the eyes of curious passersby. The young woman's eyes kept looking at cafés that they passed, Cyclonus finally understanding.

"Are you hungry again?"

"N-no," she lied, face pink.

"You haven't had solid food for eleven years. Don't force yourself to limit luxury," the older man nodded as he held the door for her for a café-bookshop.

Inside the store the ceilings were low with exposed beams and tall, overcrowded bookshelves that smelled pleasantly of age. Cyclonus found true comfort in it, relaxing even enough to enjoy himself as he ushered the girl to the counter. Standing behind the counter was an average sized man with a mouth in a long flat line. Perched on his shoulder was a raven with glassy eyes while a silvery cat with deep blue eyes arched its back as it stretched on the counter top.

"Hello," Temperance said sheepishly, the man only offering a soft nod.

"His name is Simon Wave. He doesn't talk, but he knows everything there is to know about books," Cyclonus introduced the man briefly, Simon's response being another curt nod.

The introductions were brief as they moved between tight stacks of dusty books, getting closer to the smell of coffee and sweets. Temperance almost skipped to the smell, smile curling across her pale face. Cyclonus was happy to see that she wasn't shaking anymore.

A pair of deep blue eyes looked up from his cellphone to see the tall, usually dull man accompanied by a ray of human sunshine despite her appearance mimicking something sheer and brief. He smiled wide, brushing his blue faux hawk gently as he straightened up off the counter.

"Morning one and all. How can I help you today? Cyclonus, nice to see you again though we've never really talked and, well, Simon never talks either. The bird doesn't talk and the cat doesn't meow, customers are the shut in quiet types, but yeah. Oh look, someone normal. Hi cutie, what can I make for you today?"

Temperance, flustered by the speed that the man talked, blinked nervously. She turned pink in the face as she tried talking a little slower to imply she had no way of keeping up with that kind of speed. Who was this guy? Unfortunately Cyclonus, just setting some money on the counter and walking over to the books, left her in the battlefield of speech.

"Um… I'm not really sure," she laughed nervously. "What's good for something to calm down and fill you up?"

"Well I always find calming down is boring, but if you really want that then a chai latte is good. Also, for food wise I'd recommend the berry tart. Fresh in season despite the abstract weather we've been having lately, right?" She laughed as he nodded, tallying the money up and giving her back the change. "So, you absolutely must tell me, what's the deal with that dude?"

"The… deal?"

"Yeah. Like… I know he looks a little old and crusty, but is that like… your thing?" He smirked, mixing the spices and tea expertly.

"My thing? Oh… Oh gosh, n-no. Um… it's complicated."

"Best kind of thing, honey. Friends then?"

Temperance looked over her shoulder and watched how focused Cyclonus was on his book. His eyes were scanning quickly, but the way he held the book was lovingly despite his own nature. He held such respect for it. She smiled softly and turned back to the barista.

"Friends… yeah, I like that."

"Well then, cutie, the name's Brandon Blurr. Name and a nickname cause I talk fast and I like to go fast. What's your name?" He asked as he plated the tart and slid the drink across the counter.

"Temperance… Temperance Gate," she smiled, extending a slender hand.

"Well Miss Gate, welcome to the waking world."