by GoozX
Lance Lorenzo was curious, having not checked out every floor of this huge apartment building over the month or so of their residency. Tobias Christopher has told him all about each floor and the huge, extra amount of space that the place held. If they wanted to, the team could even make some extra cash by renting out some apartments. But cash wasn't an issue, not with That Lucky Bastard around, anyhow.
Lance made himself immaterial and easily floated through the roof above him, reaching the eighth floor. Wow. The place was spotless, with a style of what appeared to be early fifties. Sam never really talked about this floor, almost as if it didn't exist or something. Lance walked through the level and toward a bar, which seemed almost out of place in an apartment building. He would have to ask Sam about that, too. Behind the bar were a variety of alcohol, all dust-free but ages old. Weird. Sitting at a stool, Lance looked over the level. What a perfect game room this would make, he thought.
"What can I get you, young man?" a voice asked from behind him.
Lance shot around, only to be startled by his reflection in a mirror. "Who is there?" he asked, but no one answered. Rubbing his arms with his hands, it was suddenly cold. "Okay, weird. No game room here!" Lance became intangible and floated up another level.
The ninth floor was beautiful, to say the least. Why the hell did I choose to live on the third floor in such a small apartment, again? Well, this is pretty far from the kitchen, and I would have to cross past the eight floor every day. Remind me to never visit THAT floor again! But remind me also to tell Mick about the cool bar on the floor. Heh. Also, with Naecken one floor up, I can only imagine what the morning would be like.
Lance floated right through the tenth floor. Naecken, now alone, was silent and unmoving. He was a weird one, to say the least.
He found himself bored with both the eleventh floor and twelfth floors, which were both as yet unoccupied. A few apartments seemed to still have furniture and clothes in them, though. They might be interesting to check out sometime soon and look for some cool '70s retro styles, or at least some '80s hippie-hippie shades.
Lance floated up one more level but stopped short. The thirteenth floor was where Sonja's old apartment had been. It looked like someone had been there recently. All the apartments had been hollowed out, much like Neacken's level. Along the wall, light shone from outside, distinctively hitting three portraits, all hand-painted memorials.
The first one was titled Jason Thomas, with smaller letters under it reading Reptile-Boy. There were two pictures, one normal one of the young man and another with him in his reptile form. He had sacrificed his life to save the team in Thunder City when I joined the team, but I never met him. I didn't realize he was so young.
The next picture was of Edulcore Cicciotto, the Eurostar. Here also were two pictures, one in civilian clothing picturing him in his days as an Olympic athlete, and the other with him in action as the leader of the Revolutionaries. They were beautiful pieces of art showing the hero that he was. Lance put his head down for a moment, remembering the fallen hero. He then noticed a few letters under the memorial, which read "Coming home." Naecken never really had accepted Edulcore's death. Sad.
Next was a picture of Sonja Ljzavet, beautiful yet tough, almost scary at times. Her portraits showed her with and without her tattoo. Lance touched the picture with his hand and closed his eyes. She was special, different. Never noticing the words below the picture, "Finally happy," Lance turned intangible once again and just let himself drop level after level until he reached the second floor and the kitchen. He opened his eyes and was greeted by Danny Hearn and Sam Dawson fighting. They paused.
"Fish sticks?"