The space between two apartment buildings on opposite ends of a street that currently was abundant with parked cars was practically pitch black; lit predominately by the streetlight that overlooked the intersection adjacent to the building on the left side of the road. Also shining from the left side was the light of the main room of one of the dwellings on the third floor of the building, partially shrouded by the curtains that hung in front of the window. Inside that very apartment is where this tale begins.

Voice: "For God's sake, what do you think you're doing up this late? Some of us are trying to get some sleep!"

The voice belonged to none other than Arryn's older sister; Claire Connolly, who just so happened to be woken up by a combination of the shining lights and the ruckus caused by the not very subtle teenager who was currently struggling to put on a jacket in the doorway leading out into the hall of the building. Looking up from what she was doing, Arryn backs up into the border of the doorway and bumps her head on the wooden outline.

Arryn: "Ow! Son of a bitch! What's up with sneaking up on me?"

Claire: "Don't play dumb Arryn, where do you think you're going?"

Arryn: "Nowhere. What made you think I was going somewhere?"

Claire facepalms and shakes her head disapprovingly at her sister, who's busy slumping over, back pressed against the door frame still. As she slides down it, closer to the ground by the second, Arryn watches as her sister (who at this point was acting more like her mother) paces back and forth in a straight line.

Claire: "You better not have been doing what I think you-"

Arryn: "Well we can settle that right away. What do you think I was going to do?"

Claire: "Follow in Davin's footsteps."

With a shocked expression on her face, Arryn gets up off the ground and with half of the jacket still draped over the right side of her body. Discussing her brother's death wasn't something done too liberally around the Connolly household, even in an offhanded comment.

Arryn: "Of course not! Do ya really think I care either way about politics?"

Claire: "No, but I didn't think he did either."

Arryn: "Look Claire, I couldn't sleep. I'm just going out for a walk."

Claire: "Right, and I shouldn't be expecting you back 'till tomorrow after school? Lemme guess, you want me ta cover for ya?"

Arryn smiles and nods, pushing herself off the doorframe and back into the center of the doorway.

Arryn: "You owe me one."

Claire: "Fine. Put your jacket on all the way though; it's probably freezing out and you look like an idiot."

Arryn nods and backs out into the hallway of the building, putting her left arm through the armhole. Once that task's accomplished, she slowly, gently closes the door and walks down the hall, stopping at the stairway and looking out the small window behind it to see sitting on the street, parallel parked next to the building opposite her's, a black, slightly rusted, not so slightly beaten up SUV.

Marx: "I don't mean to be pushy, but is this story going to go somewhere soon?"

Arryn: "Yeah doc, just settle the fuck down. I got an hour don't I?"

Marx: "Forty five-"

Arryn: "Hours? C'mon, I don't need that much time."

Marx: "Minutes."

Arryn: "Oh, shit!"

Anyway, Arryn makes her way down the flights of stairs after assuring herself that her ride was in fact there to pick her up. At one in the morning, with almost everyone in the building either asleep or working their third shift jobs, there was little traffic in the hallways yet the trade off there was that her footsteps seemed to echo through the corridor relentlessly. During most of her trek, she was in constant paranoia of someone waking up, for some odd reason. It wasn't like anyone would care.

After her adventure through the amazingly, outstandingly complex apartment complex took her right through the front door and past the doorman, she makes her way across the trafficless road to the SUV while said doorman yelled out from behind his post at her, in something sorta resembling concern.

Doorman: "Where do you think you're going?"

She doesn't even look back, or to her left or right for traffic as she continues onwards to her ride. As she walks against the wind, it blows back her unzipped jacket, making it look more like a cape than anything. That was when our fearless heroine found her calling as the greatest superhero the world had ever seen.

Marx: "Are you serious right now?"

Arryn: "No, but my jacket did look kinda like a cape. It was pretty cool."

Braden: "Christ sake, what took ya so long?"

That, was Braden O'Donnell, talking from the driver's seat as Arryn slides into the backseat of the SUV. The way his seat was reclined back forced her knees to be pressed against the seat she took.

Arryn: "Things. We're still on, right?"

Carey: "What do ya think?"

Accompanied by that rhetorical question was the cocking of a handgun. That was Carey O'Donnell, Braden's twin sister.

Arryn: "Well, alrighty then. Let's go."

Those were the last words spoken before the SUV pulled out of its parking spot and drove off down the street towards their intended target; some gas station a few blocks away.

Arryn: "However, what happens when they arrive will have to wait for at least a few more seconds, as I really have to use the restroom."

Marx: "Are you going to continue telling this story in the third person?"

Arryn: "Maybe, I dunno."