Showing up to charity dinners and events within the town was just another obligation that Aiden had apparently agreed to undertake when he joined the fire service. Maintaining public appearances, keeping in touch with the community, establishing contact and relations with those who may need to rely on them at some point; these were all the official reasons why he found himself at the Kennedy Charity Dinner, suited and booted pristinely, cufflinks and all. Of course, he was also there to ensure the safety of the guests should anything untoward kick off – sure, it was Alex’s dinner and he could more than handle a little trouble, but it wasn’t fair to expect him to do it all. Aiden couldn’t help thinking that hopefully there wouldn’t be any trouble though, as he lingered in a space just off the centre of the floor. The sparkling liquid in his champagne glass remained untouched – Aiden’s palate preferred something a little less expensive. After the passing of a few minutes, he couldn’t help feeling like he should at least try to mingle a little more and thus approached the person nearest to him, grabbing another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Hey.” His greeting was brief and simple, paired with a warm smile. “I noticed your glass looked a little empty.”
You know what I mean, fireman ;) Would you try to cool things down if they heat up between you and Riley?
”There is no Riley and I. We’re purely friends, and I’m not sure it even stretches that far. Acquaintances, most likely. Things won’t heat up between us, I assure you of that. There’s no concern there.”
What if my pants caught on fire? Would you take them off? ;)
“That’s a ridiculous question, Riley, of course I wouldn’t. You’re old enough to have heard of Stop, Drop and Roll, surely? I don’t go around schools teaching this stuff for the good of my health.”
“Should any possessions belonging to @recalcitrantriley somehow end up on fire, it’d be my job to extinguish the fire. I’m not entirely sure anybody could put Riley’s fire out, though.”
𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎: Aiden Roy Teague
𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎: Blue Hood
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛: Cismale
𝚊𝚐𝚎: 24
𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑: 11th March 1994 (pisces!)
𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: Bisexual
𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑: Chicago, Illinois
𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗: English
𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎: English
𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: Single
𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: Firefighter / Vigilante
𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎
𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 6'3"
𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 196lbs
𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎/𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍: Athletic
𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛: Dark Brown
𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛: Hazel
𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚜/𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜: Various minor scars from both work and his vigilante activities
𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐: Usually just jeans and a t-shirt or his work clothes
𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑
𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚛: No
𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚛: Occasionally
𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚛: No
𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜: None
𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜: Penicillin, Bee stings
𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜/𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜/𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜: No
𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: No
𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢
𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: Aiden, in the job role that he does, is essentially part of the heart of the community. He’ll make small talk in the store, whether he feels like it or not, purely because he has a reputation to uphold and the second that the community start losing faith in their fire service is the second that it takes a turn for the worse. There’s a lot of angst deep within Aiden, a side of him that very few people see and know of. The loss of his stepmother was so recent that he’s not even grieved properly yet, choosing to brush his own emotions under the carpet and focus on his main tasks at hand. Despite the consistent turbulence in his life, he’s selfless and sensitive and if anybody ever needs anyone to talk to, Aiden will gladly be there for them. Used to dealing with complex issues and his own problems, he can take it in his stride to sit and listen to other people’s problems. Paired with his outward openness, it’s natural for people to feel like they can open up to him.
𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜: helping people, justice, routine, food
𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜: criticism, obnoxious & cruel people, talking about his feelings
𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜/𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚊𝚜: clowns, snakes
𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜: orange & blue
𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜: listening to music, watching movies
𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎: most things, but mainly indie, and rock and its variations
𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚟 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠(𝚜): Chicago Fire, Elementary, Bones, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Nikita, Stalker, Game of Thrones, Once Upon a Time
𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎(𝚜): Pulp Fiction, The Dark Knight Trilogy
𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜
𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜/𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜: Firefighting (is that a skill?),close combat/self-defence
𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜: can drive cars and has a classic Chevy Camaro
𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚜
𝚘𝚖𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚎/𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚎: Omnivore
𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍(𝚜): Salads, most meat, fruit & vegetables
𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔(𝚜): Water, beer/lager, fruit juice
𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍(𝚜): Fatty or processed meats, greasy food
𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔(𝚜): Wine, vodka, smoothies, raw egg
𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚝
𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕/𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎: A combination of both
𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜/𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜: Hand-to-hand combat, though he can use a bow and arrow or gun if need be
𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜/𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜: N/A
𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎: Fists, a baton, taser, whatever he has to hand
𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑𝚜: He’s strong, agile and has good stamina due to his constant training for his day-job
𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜
Aiden has a framed photograph of his father and stepmom, which he keeps in the drawer of his bedside table. Tucked into the back of the frame behind the picture is the handwritten note that his stepmom left him. The grief that he still feels in relation to their deaths is a part of him that he doesn’t particularly want people to know about, for fear that his strong & brave facade will come crashing down. He looks at it every day though, frequently taking it out and perching on the edge of his bed to talk to them. If ever he has a crisis of conscience or is feeling particularly stressed, it’s this that reminds him why it’s worth it.
He sees Troy very much as his brother, despite the lack of biology linking them. The bond is so strong, in fact, that the other male is listed as Aiden’s next of kin. He knows that if anything happens to him, there’s nobody he’d rather leave responsibility to than Troy. Having lost so many people in his life, he couldn’t bear to lose Troy, too. It’d be like losing the last member of his family. Sometimes his fear is severe enough that he even has nightmares about losing Troy.
If you were to look at his living space, it’d be impossible to fail to notice how impeccably tidy it is. There’s a place for everything, and everything is in its place. Aiden could potentially be labelled a control-freak. They may be little things such as which cupboard his cups go in or the way he arranges his cutlery, but he has to have control over something in his life. It feels like for most of his life, he’s been pulled along by a current, unable to actually control what happens to him and those he loves. Now, he’ll take any opportunity he can to regain control.
When he finally manages to get to sleep, Aiden is a relatively light sleeper. The slightest noise outside will disturb him, leading to many restless nights for him. However, when he does sleep, he tends to curl up tightly into the foetal position, almost as though he’s protecting himself through the night. He also always sleeps with a teddy in his bed. It’s a stuffed bear in a firefighter uniform, a gift that a young girl had given him after he and his team had rescued her and her family from a housefire. He’ll often awake with the bear tightly in his arms, face snuggled into its fur. He has no shame about sleeping with a stuffed teddy, and it sits pride of place on his bed every morning when he’s made it (impeccably neat, of course).
“Palate doesn’t appreciate it or you’re a lightweight, huh, sweetheart?” Riley drawled, dragging out his words like each one had a purpose. Being subtle in this line of work just didn’t happen. You’d leave with someone’s number after hours of grafting instead of fifteen minutes and three hundred bucks. Who would sacrifice a healthy living just for some loser’s number? However, this was different slightly. Sure, Riley did kind of just want his phone or wallet but this guy was easily the most attractive in the bar at this moment and he was going to enjoy every moment of teasing and sarcasm. Why not? “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t see the appeal of disappearing. Of.. Fading and not having to deal with the bullshit for a little while. When life becomes overwhelming, you just exist seamlessly. It sounds definitely wonderful to me.” He smirked after he spoke, pushing away the angst that settled in his chest at the words. He knew there was a lot of underlying baggage and emotion that could couple with his philosophising but he chose to ignore that. For now, at least. Not that he planned on ever addressing it. “Lighting can account for a lot, you never know. And you look like you’re just my type. And whoever says you’re not theirs is in some serious denial, I can refer them to a few specialists to set that right.” He joked with a wink, heart hammering against his ribcage when he leaned in. The whisper against his ear, the ghost of lips in an almost promise, the close proximity. “Well, why don’t we go somewhere quieter and you can tell me all about yourself without using any words?” He asked with a waggle of his brows, eyes meeting. “The hallway near the stairs is the perfect spot. I bet the neon lighting will make us look less… Tense.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being a lightweight. I’m not a lightweight, but if I was it’d just mean i could get shitfaced on a couple of dollars instead of a couple of dozen dollars,” Aiden argued with a light smirk and a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. He thought over the statements about disappearing, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. “Like I said, too much to do. House fires won’t put themselves out.” Innocent civilians wouldn’t save themselves, and his father’s death definitely wouldn’t avenge itself. Still, that wasn’t what he wanted to think about in that moment. He would much rather just enjoy the impulsiveness with this dangerously attractive stranger in the bar. Aiden was drawn to him, despite having noticed his shiftiness and definite criminal tendencies. “Oh, I’m not sure about that.” He brushed it off with a smile and a gentle laugh, shaking his head. He wasn’t egotistical enough to honestly believe that he was everyone’s type. The male made a point of letting his lips linger over the other’s ear for a fraction of a section too long, feeling the heat of his own breath bouncing off his skin. He met the stranger’s gaze and a brow arched almost daringly, corner of his lips quirking upwards. “I’m not convinced that it’s the lighting that’s making you look tense but sure, it’s worth a test.” Picking up his half-full pint, Aiden downed the rest of the amber liquid before setting the empty glass back on the bar and then weaving his way through crowds of people to the aforementioned hallway. He didn’t even bother to look back – he trusted that the other would be following pretty close behind.
Lacey didn’t often find herself sitting at a bar. She actually tried to avoid them. Since she worked with college students, she was always afraid of running into one…especially the one’s that she knew were underage, despite what one of the IDs in their wallet said. But, today she decided that going to the bar was warranted, and it would be worth it. As she sat on the stool, she moved the ice around her glass with a straw. She was so enthralled by the motion that she barely even noticed at first when the person beside her started speaking. She turned to listen, slowly putting together the story he was telling. “Wait.” She held up her hand. “You…actually rescued a cat from a tree? Seriously?” Lacey couldn’t help but laugh at how cliche it sounded. She thanked him for the second drink, taking a sip before turning back to him. “Not to one-up you, but I actually rescued a chimpanzee from tower.” She smirked. “No, my day probably wasn’t as eventful as yours.”
The instruction to wait actually made Aiden stop in his tracks, initially confused until she proceeded to question his story. Realising her point, he chuckled a little and nodded, rubbing the back of his neck almost awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. Walking firefighter cliché right here,” he confirmed, inwardly cringing. He’d hardly believed it himself the first time he’d been to a stuck-cat callout. It had been a while ago, right at the beginning of his career with the fire service, and he’d naturally assumed it was a prank. Sure enough though, he’d got to the address and there was, in fact, a cat stuck up a tree. It made no sense to him – they managed to get up the tree in the first place so why was it so damn difficult for them to get back down again? Still, he had a job to do and he’d do it, no matter how much he wanted to question it. “Chimp from a tower? Impressive. Not quite as impressive as the time I rescued a shark from a pyramid, but I don’t wanna show off or anything,” he joked, breathing a laugh. “Well, have a drink on me nevertheless.” The man gestured briefly with one hand towards the bartender for the woman to order whatever she wanted.
What if Riley steals something and then sets the house on fire? Would you go after him or save the house?
“Firstly, this seems like a bit of a random one. Who’s ever mentioned @recalcitrantriley stealing anything?” Aside from all the times Aiden’s spotted him helping himself to people’s belongings in various clubs and bars. “Secondly, I’m a firefighter. It’s pretty clear that my job is to put out fires. I’m not a police officer, it’s not my job to apprehend suspects. Of course I’d get in touch with the relevant people but primarily, my focus would be on putting out the fire and ensuring the safety of those in the immediate vicinity.”
❝Adorable cat? Is that meant to impress me?❞ Vivienne asks as she takes a seat next to the man that wanted to tell him about his tree. She shouldn’t be at a bar, not when she is pregnant but going home to her small dog Bruno at this hour doesn’t seem like something she wants to do. ❝Water, no ice.❞ She tells the bartender with a soft smile. ❝My day? you don’t really care about my day, do you?❞ Just here to talk to people and not drink
It took Aiden a moment to reply, startled by the immediate assumption that he was trying to impress her. “What? Uh, no. Not at all,” he assured, probably sounding dumb courtesy of his hesitation. “I was just making small talk. Guess I get used to it on a daily basis.” Aiden shrugged his shoulders with his reasoning, sipping his beer between sentences. “I wouldn’t waste time and energy asking about your day if I didn’t care enough to hear the reply.” As blunt as it may have seemed, it was logical in his mind. Of course, there were plenty of reasons he’d waste time and energy on small talk, but that wasn’t something that anybody else particularly needed to know.
“The party liquid is appropriate for all occasions, sorrow drowning or not.” Not that he’d usually encourage binge drinking but in settings like this? It worked for him. It made people lose their inhibitions and sharpness of senses and suddenly they were released Riley-less into the club and without an item of theirs. However, he was unaware just how switched on the man beneath his hands was. Clueless to the whole idea of being a vigilante. “I suppose we’re all around somewhere at some point.” He hummed to himself, fingertips working at the shoulders through his shirt. They were able to locate and work at the knots there, but lightly so he wouldn’t hurt him. That was the last thing he needed to set them off on a bad note. “Although, that would be wonderful. If we could just disappear into nowhere and nothing periodically. It would make life easier to manage, I suppose. But that’s just a little bit deep for this kind of setting.” He leaned down to murmur that part next to his ear, knowing his smirk would be apparent. It was also something to try and keep the conversation light. “Maybe I just seem that way in this lighting.” He joked with a gentle scoff. “So, a firefighter, huh? Saving lives, doing us all a favour by looking so physically appealing. And you can hold a conversation. You really are a triple threat, stranger.” His fingertips brushed the breast pocket on the shirt. No phone or wallet. Shit. “Tell me more, cutie.”
“Appropriate as it may be, it’s not my thing. Palate doesn’t appreciate it,” Aiden simply explained with a light shrug of his shoulders. He wasn’t totally oblivious – he could tell the other guy was coming onto him and maybe, just maybe, that was why he was encouraging his drinking. “If that’s your attempt at sounding like a philosopher, it’s not working.” The chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it. He felt the other’s fingertips working at his shoulders and despite it being a pretty unorthodox move in the middle of a club, he had to admit he could practically feel the tension ebbing away, replaced by the subtle buzz that the beer brought. “I think you and I have different ideas of wonderful.” Sure, there had been plenty of times Aiden had wanted to disappear into nowhere and nothing, but that wouldn’t help anyone. There were people who needed him. People who needed the Blue Hood. Even if he could disappear into nowhere, the risks would far outweigh the benefits. “I’m pretty sure you’d seem tense no matter what lighting we were in, but sure. We’ll put it down to the lighting.” The proximity of the other didn’t throw him off, rather he embraced it, leaning a little closer himself. He smirked at the physically appealing comment, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “I’m not everyone’s type,” was his only verbal response. A scoffed laugh escaped his lips at the cutie, and he shook his head. He may be feeling a bit of a buzz from the beer but even then, he wasn’t about to let slip his troubled past and, more importantly, double life. “I’m not that interesting. You’re one of those types who avoids talking about himself at all costs, then?” This time, it was him who leaned forwards, lips ghosting over the other’s ear before whispering, “Me too.”
“I’ll have a cocktail that comes with one of those umbrellas. I like those.” Nova’s attention shifted from the bartender to the man who had offered to buy her the drink she’d just ordered. She’d seen him around the city, but it wasn’t like she knew who he was or what he did. But going by his comment, maybe he was a police officer or firefighter? “So, do you always buy strangers drinks while telling them about rescuing cats from trees? Don’t tell me your game is that bad.”
Nodding to the bartender to make the drink requested, Aiden fished some cash out of his wallet and slid it over the bar to pay. Tucking his wallet away, he turned his attention back to the woman. “I tend to buy strangers drinks a lot but, despite the misguided media representation of firefighters, I don’t actually rescue cats from trees all that often,” he mused with a light chuckle, taking a long sip from his bottle. “I like to think my game is decent but I don’t test it out too often so who knows? Maybe I should stock up on cat-tree stories in case my game is worse than I remembered.” Truthfully, there were a lot of factors that played a part in his singledom, and bad game wasn’t even in the top ten list.
Rowan ran a rag over the bar. She replaced the salt shakers and peanut bowls. She felt someone approach and without looking up from the other end of the bar, spoke up. “What can I getcha?” she called down to them. She ran the rag to the very end of the bar and turned to face the person who approached her.
As he entered the bar, Aiden took a seat on one of the stools and watched as Rowan ran a cloth over the polished surface. He knew he didn’t need to announce his arrival anymore – it felt like she knew he was there without even having to look. “Just a beer for me, and whatever you’re having. Non-alcoholic I assume, or are you allowed to drink on the job?” His words were accompanied by a hint of a smile as he dug his wallet out of his back pocket.
All she wanted was to find the people who had taken her brother away from her. Yes, Scarlett knew that he’d been dangerous, but why hadn’t they opted to save him instead? Why did no control automatically mean he had to die? He surely wasn’t the only metahuman who had issues with controlling his abilities, so did that mean all of them had to die too? Wasn’t it more important to try and save lives instead of ending them? Wasn’t that what vigilantes were supposed to do? But they hadn’t and her faith in them had dispersed because of how they’d gone about the situation. The brunette was planning on heading down to Los Angeles to find her brother’s murderers like the person who had called her recently informed her about. But maybe there was something in Grove Hill that could still help her out somehow - before she took her leave. Scarlett’s pace was brisk as she made her way through the city. It was pretty late at night and the park was already in sight as she walked towards it. She wasn’t scared to go through the park at night because she felt more determined than anything and if anyone decided to attack her, she could still try to strike them down with her hydrokinetic powers. They had only recently surfaced and she needed to figure out how to gain control of them, but she sure as hell wasn’t ending up like her brother. No one was ending her life just because she needed to find her way around and adapt to the changes within her own body. She sensed that someone was following her, feeling a presence behind herself while she tried to cross park grounds. It made her stop in her tracks and turn around, but before she could speak up or do anything, she was tackled to the ground and held down by masked men. Scarlett tried to scream, but the hand covering her mouth prevented her from doing so and at this point, she feared for her life. Were these the people who had killed her sibling? Was that why they were here, attacking her? Because they knew who she was and wanted to take her out as well? If they were gonna kill her, the brunette just wanted them to get it over with rather than take their time. Maybe she’d get to see her brother again if she died, maybe this nightmare she’d been living ever since would just be over. But it wasn’t over. Out of nowhere, another figure appeared, taking out her attackers and offering to help her back up to her feet afterwards. Brown eyes were set wide as Scarlett ignored the hand that the man held out, scrambling back up to her feet on her own and brushing off her clothes. She looked him over with a skeptical expression, not trusting the stranger before her. He’s a vigilante, you can’t trust him. “Who… Who are you? Why did you just do that? I don’t need your help.”
It came as a surprise to Aiden when the other blatantly ignored his outstretched hand. Funny way of saying thank you. Still, he withdrew the gloved hand and instead held both up in surrender. He watched with an arched brow as the woman before him scrambled to her feet, choosing to remain silent and allowing her to barrage him with questions. “You don’t need to know who I am. That’s kind of the whole point,” the disguised voice ensured nobody would recognise him, not even from voice clips. As he spoke, he gestured to his face and, more specifically, to the mask protecting his identity. As a firefighter, the last thing he needed was to be discovered and exposed as a secret vigilante. Then again, he supposed the whole secrecy thing would make him a little harder to trust than the Average Joe who may walk down a street. Nevertheless he liked to think that if someone had just essentially saved his life, in the same way that he’d just done with the stranger, he’d be showing them a little more gratitude right now.
There was a pause before he continued, almost as though he was just waiting in anticipation for another round of questions to be fired at him. When no more came, he spoke once more. “I just did that because that’s kind of what I do.” It sounded more like a question than a definitive answer – he couldn’t quite figure out why she was questioning his motives. Surely having saved her life would be enough? But no, she wanted justification. “This little get-up isn’t just for dancing around my living room when I’ve had a few too much to drink, y’know? I save people. It’s kind of my thing.” Lord, that sounded like a line from a cheesy movie. He was totally different from usual when he was masked, though. Aiden knew he exuded more confidence. He had to – the villains would just walk all over a vigilante if they didn’t seem at least half-confident in what they did, and the innocents definitely wouldn’t have any faith in them. So it was this way that Aiden found himself standing a little taller, shoulders poised a little broader, and attitude a little bolder. “I never said you needed my help. Kinda looked like you needed someone’s help, though, and I was in the area.” He wasn’t asking for a heartfelt thank you but, man, a little more gratitude and a lot less hostility would’ve been nice.
