"Took you long enough," remarked Silas, standing up from his relaxed, seated position. "I was wondering when you would find me." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. If this person was someone he knew, they would hard-pressed to recognize him, since his voice had dropped and he had gotten thinner since he had last gone around as Silas, not his alter-ego Phantom. "I tried to make it easy for you." He smirked, drawing attention to the scar on his chin. That was new, too.
As he talked, Silas studied the boy, trying to figure out why he was drawn to him. Standing here, it was obvious the other boy had several inches on him, as well as more muscles. Silas had some leaner musculature, but he'd lost weight in the last couple of years, being more gangly now. Though he appeared perfectly at ease, every move that Silas made was planned.
"Oh, and before you run to the authorities or other heroes, know that if you try to contact anyone I will vanish in an instant, just like every time before, and you'll lose any opportunity to get information out of me," he added, making sure the hero wouldn't do so. It had all been leading up to this moment, which would in turn set more moments in play. If this kid tried to get help, Silas would just escape without any sort of conversation, which would just be frustrating. He waited a moment for emphasis before grinning again.
"The name's Phantom. Please to meet you."
Phantom, that name was carved into his memory. Atticus stood still staring back at the villain. He did not seem very familiar to anyone he knew, although there is this small gut feeling he has. On the other hand, never has he made a fist while watching someone smile in front of him. Never has he seen so much pride let alone so much satisfaction in a smile like that.
Unsheathe his sword? Gone. Whistle? Poof. Single the police down below? Disappeared. Jump across the gap onto the other building? Who knows. Hell, probably moving an inch closer would make this Phantom disappear. Atticus wished he would've known that the killer might've been staying near the scene; he totally could record this conversation then send it to the federal agents. No, he has to keep this villain here as long as possible. Any answers will do right now. Any progress stopping him would be a miracle. Seeing this vile killer is going to happen again, but when?
The pain in his chest kept him from shaking or moving at all. It was not the kind of pain that'd make you fall over, it was something entirely new. He has no clue why he feels the way he does. A third of him feels absolutely disgusted by this villain, another wants to use his sword, yet the last part, he doesn't even know what to say about it.
"My name is Adonais.", he deadpanned. Atticus pushed whatever emotions and extra thoughts he had. The expression on his face was bleaker than the air. Both of his hands laid at his side turned into fists. The sword sheath felt like it started to burn against his left fist. Despite the urge to do something, he remained still waiting for a moment to strike.
"Adonais," repeated Silas, slowly, bringing one of his hands to his face. The shirt he wore almost doubled as gloves, with his fingers being the skin visible. The nails were painted black to match the rest of his outfit, and it was kind of impressive the way there was not a drop of blood on him. "What an interesting name." He glanced down at Adonais's hands, balled into fists in direct contrast to Silas's own lazy, almost playful, stance.
"Why so tense?" he teased, trying to push this kid's buttons. "You know that Fantasia never did much good anyway. You've seen her in battle, all flash and no actual effort. She didn't save that man the other week, just stood there and took pictures while heroes like Tsunami and Rushlight did all of the work. Her being gone doesn't change anything for the hero industry, besides maybe a few upset fans. And Blaze? A hypocrite who didn't give a shit who he hurt in the process of 'saving' people. Tch. You are too loose with the label of hero."
It was true that Silas was oozing satisfaction, not only because he was proud of himself for this, at least on the outside, but also because he wanted to push this Adonais's buttons. He wanted to make the boy angry, upset, anything. He wanted these heroes to feel the pain that he'd been feeling the past few years; the pain he had felt his whole life, to be honest. The pain he felt as he saw civilians die because the heroes were too busy trying to look good for the cameras, the pain he felt as the heroes bullied those with lesser powers just so they could feel good about themselves, the pain he felt as his own father treated Silas like a second class citizen because of his less-than-offensive powers. The pain he had felt as he stood next to Charlie's hospital bed as the life drained out of his only brother. Silas would make Adonais pay. He would make all of them pay.
It only had to take Phantom to say his name to make him clench his jaw tighter. Atticus took small deep breaths to maintain his calmness. Hearing what this villain had to say was sickening; and he thought that watching what mobsters did was horrible. Nothing compares to the figure before him, nothing ever will. He must stop him before it's too late, before only a handful of heroes remain left.
Is this monster out of his mind? What the hell is he thinking? Atticus always believed that behind every villain is the hero they potentially could've become. Phantom though, he cannot see anything, just emptiness shrouding inside his heart. Whatever the reason may be that is making him think this appalling way is sucking any potential for reconciliation like a parasite. Suffering should not lead to becoming a vicious criminal, it'll only the burden heavier than titanium.
"Not only have you taken the lives of eleven people, but you are making their families suffer. You are making children, who are too young to understand what's going on, scared as they cry in their parents' arms. Sure they might not have been preforming their duty as they should be, but you stole the chance for their redemption as heroes. The whole city is going to wake up mourning again in fear of who's next; fearing that one day they might lose their life too.", he spat,"I hope the spirits of those you've killed curse you and your family forever. Phantom, you disgust me and are an abomination to Nova City."
For a moment, Silas was actually hurt. Thinking of the families who were grieving just as he had been, before changing his thoughts to a new tactic. The self-hatred was easier to shove underneath his hatred of everyone else. Then, he laughed. He had become so numb most of the time now that the idea that hearing someone else say his insecurities and hatred out loud barely brought a flare to life, at least that he let himself feel.
His laughing became almost hysterical before he stopped and eyed Adonais. “Wow, you really are a righteous hero, aren’t you?” he barked. “You think I’m not aware of that? Maybe I want them all to suffer. Maybe I want them to live in fear, okay? Because it’s not like I’m the only so-called villain out there! And heroes hurt people too! Do you know anything about any of your heroes beyond what they make public? They’re not all good people, believe it or not! If they were, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Shut up Silas, he willed himself. Shut up before you tell this man more than you should, or ruin your perfectly thought out plan.
He truly did regret the eleventh kill. Fantasia’s date. She had done nothing wrong except be in the wrong place at the wrong time and try to fight back. But he did what he had to do. If he believed that, then maybe he would hate himself slightly less.
That look on the villain's face was something he's seen before. Memories flashed in his mind for a second, if only Atticus could make out the reason why. Capturing it with his own eyes on someone else felt surreal. Not even low unorganized robbers appear to be lost, drained, or hint at any bit of regret. Yet here he is standing in front of a villain, not to mention a serial killer, having this odd expression for a brief moment. Worst of the strange allure had yet to come though.
Being scared of Phantom himself is only going to make things worse. Alienating the idea that this villain is a human has to be a way to help. Showing any signs of dismay is just going to end up with more snickers. The laughter rang in his ears drowning out the thumps coming from his heart. Hearing it once was enough for him.
Cautiously, Atticus pulled out the sword. He was not sure whether or not he'll use it on this demon, but it can get the message across faster. Phantom calling him a righteous hero only made him roll his eyes; the entire city doesn't even know who Adonais, even the people on Super Watch too. Besides, he is only doing what he has to which is using what saved his life to save others.
"They're not mine, or am I my own; they're Nova City's. Making them live in fear will only result in more heroes to take down freaks like you.", he stated,"And not everyone is able to possess the humility the model superhero should have, but it does not mean their right to live should be taken away from them. Nor does it mean they're beasts too."
Glancing over the top of Phantom, he stared over into downtown. Lights were still shining bright as cars were honking. The officers and agents were down below still working. All the fire that had been burning in Atticus's eyes disintegrated as he looked back at Phantom. "I am able to stand here in front of you due to my own accords. You're only here still because your soul leeches off of others believing it's necessary."
“Bold of you to believe I have a soul, hero,” Silas sneered, getting back into his comfortably numb headspace. “You really think that you’re going to convince me to become a hero too? With your oh-so-hopeful heart and your guilt tripping? I never claimed to be a good person. Unlike the lot of you, I know that I’m fucked up.” He started to laugh again.
He gripped his scythe in his right hand now, taking off of his back from under his cloak. He didn’t want to fight yet, but would to defend himself if necessary. He wouldn’t be taking any more lives tonight, even this righteous little bastard. But something about his hopefulness was familiar to Silas. It must be a reminder of his middle school hero class. They were all so hopeful, even Silas himself. How stupid he had been.
“I’m getting tired of this back-and-forth. I thought you’d have a bit more witty banter, you know, be a bit fun instead of such a sweet little believer. Yes, I’m an awful, fucked up person, but so are the rest of you. Don’t lie to me because you don’t know them like I do.” He paused for a moment before shaking his head. “Unless you have a convincing reason to get me to talk to you for another minute, I’m taking my leave now.” He readied his fight or flight, ready to have to make himself immaterial if needed.
The grip around the ruby handle of the sword only got tighter. He bit on his bottom lip in a desperate attempt to hold back any objections. All the words spilling out of Phantom were just dumbfounding to begin with. Pitiful is the first word Atticus would describe it, pitiful, odious, and just simply sinful. And the gosh-nerve-wrecking laugh again. He hates it!
Mister Chen along with others were still down there. With eleven dead in the course of two months, the useless police do not have a single suspect. Eventually they will leave again having so much evidence yet not a new idea. If only there was a way to help nudge them in a direction…
Having your back facing an enemy is lethal in its own right, so was also leaving them without a single scratch too. Mumbling a small prayer his father taught him, he walked to the farther side of the rooftop. Facing Phantom, he gave him a simple smile then bolted over jumping to onto the edge of the other building.
Right as Atticus was very close to the other, he kicked him down to the ground of the rooftop. His sword made a metal cling sound as it clashed against the scythe. With both his foot and the sword, he pressed down harder. The soft smile he had before was still there, it rested on top of all the anger that had returned. "PHANTOM, YOU SON OF A BITCH!", Atticus screamed before whispering in the villain's ear,"Till next time."
Sheathing his sword again, he bolted over to the stairs running down as swift as possible. That exit was not something he had planned nor did he want it. Escaping before the villain is something he frowns down upon. Doing it himself hurts his own pride a bit. Atticus panted as he hid behind the brick wall for a couple of moments. When the coast was clear, he got on his motorbike and drove away.
Silas stayed there for a few more moments, dumbfounded. He would’ve used his power but he didn’t want to give anything away just yet. Still, it wasn’t like most heroes to run away like that. He would have do some research on this fool. After Adonais disappeared from sight, Silas stood up and brushed himself off, picking up his scythe.
Then he quickly made his exit, once again stealthily getting away from the crime scene. As he hurried back to his lair, he wondered whether the hero would tell anyone else about the encounter. Would he want them to know how awful and fucked up the new villain Phantom was or would he be too ashamed that the villain got away?
Whatever his choice, the name Phantom would be known by this time next week. Maybe he would even leave a note this time. He would have to talk to this Adonais again. Messing with him was entertaining, even if at first it brought out some emotions he’d rather keep buried.
Silas turned on the television, watching the news again. It was the same as the last time and every other time before that. Them being puzzled about this strange killer, and wondering where he’d strike next. He flipped off Iron Fist as he came on screen. He had his own brand of mixed emotions about that man, and hoped he’d never have to face him as Phantom. Or at least, not yet.
Driving back home was a nightmare. Scenes that occurred just minutes ago kept replaying in his head over and over again. Atticus still felt the pain in his heart as it pounded against him. So much had happened in the last three hours that it's going to give him a headache in the morning.
Heading from the west side over to Julius Avenue takes about twenty minutes. At each red light, he would take something off. First was the mask which he tucked into a pocket. Next, he'd unhook the sword's holder from his belt, placing it inside the trench coat before buttoning that up. The rest of the transformation process would happen once he'd get to the parking garage close to home.
Atticus dragged himself into the apartment hoping everyone was sound asleep. As he took off his shoes, he noticed the television was still on. Holding a strap from his swimming bad, he crept over to see what was on. Same old same old; news about the Swinging Serial Killer, now known to him as Phantom.
Sighing, he shook his head then headed over to his room. The emergency phone buzzed as Atticus closed the door. Dropping the bag, he took out the phone making sure all the new photos were transferred over to his actual one. Ever since becoming Adonais, having just one phone was impossible. The fear of missing a distress call or any useful bits of information floated around him for weeks till managing to get an old one.
Out of nowhere, Phantom's face appeared in his mind again. Don’t lie to me because you don’t know them like I do… Atticus groaned as he flopped onto his bed grabbing the laptop going onto Super Watch. In the search handle, he typed 'Phantom' waiting for results to load. "Who are you?", he mumbled to himself.
Meanwhile, Silas was trying to look up Adonais but not getting much information. He must be a new hero or something. The little that Silas could find was less than helpful, to say the least. He sighed, his mind trying to puzzle out why the boy seemed so familiar to him. Hmm.
Maybe he’d gone to Silas’s middle school. Yes, that had to be it. Adonais was another dewey-eyed dope from middle school. But which one was he? There were so many hopeful little kids at that school, some that Silas barely even remembered. Most of them probably barely remembered him, anyway. He only had a few good friends.
Tomorrow, Silas was going to go get some food. Not in his full Phantom regalia, just in a hoodie with a hat and sunglasses, far away from where his parents shopped. He alternated between stealing wallets to buy groceries with or stealing the food itself. This week was a stolen wallet week.
Hopefully, Silas wouldn’t see anyone who had known him, but the past two and a half years had really changed him. Along with several new scars, he no longer looked like the child he had been in high school, only fifteen years old. But for now he was going to get some much-needed sleep. Of course, he could barely sleep even on his best nights, all of the issues with his mental health keeping him awake at night. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about Adonais and who he could possibly be.
Weird. Even though this Phantom monster has his full attention still, there is barely any articles let alone any posts about him. Scarcely anything to help him. Only thing that caught his interest was one post with a picture of the villain from three weeks ago. A silver warning, potential danger. That's it.
Atticus pondered whether or not he should make his own post with what he found tonight. He basically is doing the job of a federal investigation agent as well as five local police station ones too on top of being a "hero". Calling himself that felt weird despite doing this for over a year now. People might start to focus on him now, it is not too far off to call Phantom his enemy even though they just met.
Thank the lord tomorrow was a free Saturday. No babysitting, no having to go to a swim meet, no boxing classes, nothing; just a day off. Definitely will have perfect weather for just a plain wander around the park. He'll have to stop at the cemetery first, though it should not be a problem for him. The memorial is going to be full of people, he'll just wear all black and visit it later on in the day.
Tomorrow. Next morning, he will make the post. Afterwards, he will figure out why this villain gives him an unfamiliar feeling or why it feels like he knows him. Atticus glanced up at the pictures on the wall. One was of his family at when he was born, another was him with the swim team, and the last one was with his old friend, Silas.
Staring at the picture only made him feel nostalgic and bittersweet. He cannot even recall the last time he's seen Silas. It's been since freshman year of high school. And even then, Atticus could not point out the reason why they sort of drifted apart. Maybe one day they'll meet each other again, he hoped as he started to fall asleep, maybe.
The next morning, Silas woke restlessly after only a couple hours of sleep. He stared at the ceiling for a while before dragging himself out of bed. He brushed his teeth, got dressed, and got ready for the day. As he looked in the mirror, for a moment he saw a glimpse of the boy he was all those years ago before he ran away. He wondered if his parents had told anyone about that. Probably not. His bastard father probably was ashamed of him and told his friends that Silas was being homeschooled or some shit. His mother would go along with it as usual, just letting his father do whatever he wanted. She was ashamed too, doubtlessly. And angry with him.
Then it was time to go to the store. He jammed a black beanie onto his head, partially obscuring his mop of black hair. He pulled on a nondescript gray hoodie over his t-shirt, completing the look. He added a pair of fake glasses he’d gotten from a thrift store to finish it off, ensuring that he’d be even harder to recognize on the off chance anyone spotted him. They’d have to have near perfect memory to feel more than a vague familiarity.
He set off for the nearest grocery store, thankfully on the other side of town from his parents. He got enough for the week, waiting in line for checkout as he absently checked his phone. It was burner phone in case he was spotted, bought long with stolen money like everything else he had. He tapped his toe to the pop music playing over the speakers. It was a song he’d liked in middle school, because back then it had been a guilty passion of his.
Waking up felt like he was being pulled out of a shell. Atticus felt the usual withdrawal he always feels the morning after a fight. Piece by piece every part of what happened last night replayed in his dream; he was just basically reliving it.
Groaning, he pulled himself out of bed ready to start another day. He put on a black sweater which was starting to get tight on him and some grey jeans that were already an inch above his ankles. To top it all off, Atticus placed his black lily flower pin over his heart. Wearing the pin was his own way to pay respects to the fallen superheroes. Phantom's words swirled around him as he lightly touched it. They might've not been the heroes they should've been, but they still possessed their powers.
Atticus decided to change plans by going to the grocery store first. The tylenol he takes for his shoulder pain is completely gone. He had to put the strap from his swimming bag onto the left shoulder instead. Strolling over to the store was not that hard, it was just two blocks away from home. He went inside only getting the medicine and some things to for breakfast before heading to check out.
All the check out lines were long for it being ten in the morning. Sighing, he ambled over to the one that appeared to have the least amount of people waiting. It was hard to move his arms without risking of dropping something. His mom complains how he always forgets to pick up a basket at the entrance. Atticus tried to reach over for one of the newspapers before the bottle of medicine dropped then rolled ahead of person in front of him. The stupid thing wasn't close enough for him to reach, damn it. Softly, he tapped the guy with the gray hoodie's shoulder. "Excuse me? Sir?", he called out. He wondered if the guy could hear him, it sounded like the other was listening to music.
Silas nearly jumped at the physical contact, not expecting it and definitely not used to it. He turned down the music in his headphones, annoyed and slightly panicked. Thankfully, he was a good actor. He silently wished that this random person wouldn’t recognize him, glancing back to see a very tall, intimidating man. No, boy. The guy was around his age. Was he gone so long that everyone guy his age looked like fucking Thor? He like a pencil of a man in comparison.
“What do you want?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t spitting out the words, exactly, but his tone wasn’t the friendliest. He crossed his arms in front of him, just wishing to get this over with. Sometimes he forgot that other people could see him in his civilian form.
Wait a moment…the guy behind him looked familiar. Silas tried to place him, but his memories from around the year before he’d run away were a bit muddled. All he could remember was hating his father, hating himself, hating everything but Charlie and his only real friends from his school: Georgia, Tyrone, and Atticus. This boy kind of reminded him of Atticus. But it probably wasn’t him. That would be crazy unlucky for Silas, and the probability was astronomical. Nova City was a big city, and last Silas had checked, Atticus lived closer to his family than this side of town. It had to be a coincidence.
Atticus flinched a little himself almost bumping into the person that was behind him. Turning around, he gave a head bow before looking back at the guy ahead. His cheeks flushed red as he gave an apologetic beam. The aura the guy had was threatening yet mysterious at the same time. He couldn't help being tensed up while smiling. "I'm very sorry, please forgive me.", he apologized then gestured to the medicine bottle,"I was wondering if you could pick up that for me."
This man in front of him doesn't seem to be as old as he thought. Atticus is only assuming the guy is around the same age as him despite looking a bit youthful, although people think he is twenty-five sometimes. Not to mention, the guy is slender and smaller than him too. What struck his curiosity was the way the young man stood, how he carried himself. A lot of people have a sluggish posture, but this one was all too familiar.
His hand clenched the newspaper as he just stared at the other. Does he know him? Did they go to school together? In a way this man does look like Mister Chen; they have the same eyes. No, that cannot be, Silas lives his grandparents now in Havenbrook. Right? In his mind, he shrugged; guess it doesn't hurt to ask. "Also, did you go to East Nova Elementary by any chance? Misses Castell's kindergarten class?" Atticus might be reeling in what happened last night still; could be. Meeting this person is more than just a coincidence, he's sure of it.
Silas blinked, taken aback. How did this guy…wait? So it was Atticus, then? He hadn’t been imagining it. It took all of his willpower not to laugh out loud. Atticus had never made any attempt to contact him after he’d run away, and though Silas was sure his parents had made up some lie, it still made him angry.
“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong person,” he said after a moment, his lying skills good. Silas just hoped the brief flicker of emotion across his face had been short enough not to be noticed. Now he looked the picture of a boy annoyed at a random person for asking him about something he clearly didn’t know much about. “I went to Edison Elementary, but I get those sort of questions a lot. Must have one of those faces.” He shrugged.
Silas reached for medicine bottle, handing it to Atticus. “Here’s the thing you wanted.” He went to turn back around, praying to himself that Atticus wouldn’t somehow see past the lie (doubtful) or possibly have noticed the recognition in his eyes before he spoke (more likely) or even just somehow know (no idea).
No it has to be Silas. He was right about the Swinging Serial Killer, why wouldn't he be right about his childhood friend? Yes it has been almost four years since they last talked to each other, and part of that is his own fault, but come on. Atticus has to be right, he can feel it in his heart too. The way it's pounding again while his face felt warm, they're signs.
Under his breath, he mumbled a thank you. Atticus placed the medicine bottle on top of the little cereal box to keep it from falling again. His hand reached out again then stopped. If this really is Silas, then how come he is acting so differently? This is not the hopeful quiet boy that he knew not so long ago. The two of them were always laughing and smiling spending time together. Now he is standing behind seeing a storm cloud over the guy's head.
At least, he could try to talk him more. Any extra time to talk to this guy would be helpful. He'll have to be very cautious though. Bringing up Mister Chen or his younger brother or anything related to the matter might drive him away. Small steps. Very small baby steps. Atticus reached out again lightly tapping the young man's shoulder again. "One more question, are you in a rush? I'd love to take you to this new cafe to show my gratitude. Please? I'll pay."
Silas blew a breath out slowly. Shit. Okay, well if Atticus knew it was him, then he supposed he’d have to act like nothing was wrong. Fine. He could do that. Say he lived in his own apartment now or something. How he was supposed to talk about the subject of how he wanted to become a hero would be difficult, but spending the past two and a half years in the shadows of the world, only spending time with the compulsive liars and manipulative criminals had to give him some lying ability.
“I suppose not,” he replied after a moment. “Sure. We can go to the cafe.” He tried to act nonchalant about it, but still let himself be a bit annoyed and aloof. He had learned it wasn’t believable to go from angry to happy in a moment, so he’d have to be gradual about it. His acting skills were finally getting better. They should be, if his terrible relationship with the villain Sharktooth had taught him anything. That guy was as manipulative as they came, except for maybe his own damn parents.
Silas let his mind change directions. That was not a helpful course of action. He had to focus on the here and now. Maybe it would be nice to get to know what Atticus was up to nowadays. Silas always thought he’d make a good hero, so he supposed he could pretend to be a decent person for one conversation for this kid who used to be one of his closest friends.
Soon enough, he got to the front of the checkout line and paid for all of his groceries, deep in thought until it was Atticus’s turn. He waited with his cart while the other boy checked out, trying to think of what he could possibly say.
Atticus just squeezed the things in his arms tighter, he didn't want to jump or break anything just by accidentally colliding with something. "Thank you!", he gushed. The gleam in his eyes shined with excitement. Oh thank destiny for this to happen. It totally is Silas and now they're going to go the cafe just a block over. Luckily something good is happening today; he couldn't help but get his hopes up a level.
Staying on his toes, he waited for Silas to pay for this things so he could the same next. The excitement inside him gave a very bubbly energetic feeling. Every inch of him just was very happy. It is lucky to able to feel better after the horrendous events from last night. Phantom had come across his mind for a mere second, but he just pushed it away, now is not the time to dwell on the villain.
Funny how Phantom had come up in his mind just he thought more about Silas. No, there is no way that they two are the same. It's been awhile, but Atticus knows that Silas would never do such a thing. He always wanted to be hero, can't be. As he picked up the plastic grocery bag, he shook his head. A cup of coffee or hot chocolate will help clear his thoughts.
The smile on his face was still there, only he just made it brighter. He tied the handles of the bag to the strap of the swimming one. Atticus just gave his old friend a thumbs up, not sure what else to say. Words just kept incessantly building on top of each other.
Silas smiled back awkwardly, picking up his groceries and putting most of them into the black backpack he was wearing. It was really odd to see someone he used to be so close with, and while the larger part of Silas squirmed away from the possible feelings inside of him, another part of him was excited too. He just wished that Atticus wasn’t so…good. There wasn’t another way to describe his pure, infectious energy and open, friendly manner. Of all of the people to see.
Once Atticus was done paying for his stuff, Silas let the taller boy lead the way to the cafe. He had never been great with conversation even when he and Atticus were friends, so he was glad he wouldn’t be expected to carry the conversation now. Still, Atticus kept looking excited and like he was trying to figure out what to say, not talking. All of Atticus’s happiness over meeting Silas again unnerved Silas, but he wasn’t about to admit that.
Instead of letting the moment grow more awkward, Silas decided to start a conversation himself. “So, how have you been, Atticus?” he asked, studying the boy again. “It certainly has been a while.”
Giving a lively nod, he motioned for Silas to walk beside him. Atticus had been waiting to go to this cafe ever since there was an article about it opening. The distance from there to the grocery store and park were not that bad. Atticus remembered that it could've opened up a while ago if it weren't for the that villain to kill Grayson, the third victim, two buildings away. When that happened, he tried to avoid going or wanting to go there. A chill was sent down his spine just thinking about it. Going there now seems perfectly safe though; plus, it'd be a great opportunity to rekindle his relationship with Silas.
Busy and confused, that surely how he's been. With Phantom running around killing heroes and now just meeting his former-close friend, Atticus think his brain might explode at any minute. Staring down at the sidewalk, he just kept smiling. Lying is something that always made him feel icky, including breaking the pinkie promises he makes with the kid he babysits. He cannot lie while also not telling the truth too.
"Really has been awhile. I'm still the same, tired and always on the run.", he giggled,"How about you? I can see that you look very good-looking after all this time." For a couple of seconds, he glimpsed over at the old friend. It's amazing how time flies by, how it changes people. Gazing at Silas, he could still see the little boy he came best friends with years ago.
Atticus rushed over once they got close to the cafe. He opened the door beckoning for Silas to come in. The air outside smelled like a mixture of coffee and cars. A really weird mix, but something that he didn't really mind.
Silas flushed at the compliment, surprised. For a moment, he remembered the brief, desperate crush that he'd had on Atticus when they first met. After they'd become friends and Silas had become comfortable around the other boy, it had worn off–more or less, but still Silas was caught off guard. He forgot how genuine and kind Atticus was.
"You too," he agreed, smiling slightly. He was about to add something about Atticus working out, but decided against it. Good to know he was still a clusterfuck of nerves around anyone he hadn't spent time with recently. Silas nodded his thanks at the gesture of Atticus opening the door for him. He recognized the cafe as being nearby his third kill, but shoved down any feelings to come with that memory. Comfortably numb. That was basically his motto at this point.
"I've been doing fine, you know, all of the same old stuff," he said breezily, completely aware that none of what he had been doing recently was what he would call "same old". "I feel you with the tired part. So are you still training to be a hero, or are you one of the lucky ones who gets the job right out of high school?"
Atticus gazed down at his feet at the returned regard. He wouldn't necessarily consider himself handsome, he just doesn't look like the baby he used to be. On the other hand, Silas still had that adorable smile like the one in the picture. Come to think of it, he might have that specific one on his phone.
Oh right, he completely forgot about becoming an official hero despite no one having a clue about it. Honestly Atticus just dove right into it being lucky enough to make it out of every trail and tribulation in one piece. It has been over a whole year yet no one has said anything to him at all. Funny how he already has an enemy too. People on Super Watch don't really talk about Adonais either.
"Not so sure yet, I've done plenty of training and weightlifting though. Hopefully soon, this Swinging Serial Killer needs to be caught. I hate seeing them getting away with it,", Atticus sighed as he stared ahead at the menu. There was a table for two besides the window, maybe they should claim it before anyone else does. "Do you want to sit over there? I can get our order then come over." Changing the subject might've not been the most appropriate thing to do. Talking about hero stuff will be much better when they sit down.
"Oh, sure," Silas responded, glancing over. "I honestly don't know what to get. I haven't had coffee in a while, and the stuff I used to like in middle school was just straight up sugar. So, just get whatever you think I'd like, and if you don't know, just whatever you're having is fine." He shrugged. "I've never been very picky."
When Atticus had mentioned Silas's alter ego, his heart skipped a beat. Thankfully, Atticus had moved on from it, but Silas was still a bit wary. He really needed to just do some sort of broadcast to really get the name Phantom out there. Then again, his current nickname did lend some mystique. Anyway, he went over to the table and sat down, crossed his legs in front of him and humming a tune to himself. His mind began to wander back to Atticus again. What had he been doing all this time? Besides weight lifting and hero training. He seemed mostly the same as when they were in middle school, but some things were different. He looked more confident in himself, for one. Not to mention he no longer looked like an excitable little kid. Silas sighed. That was the last thing he needed to be thinking about right now.
