WHO: Match and Open WHAT: Flying WHEN: Morning WHERE: Across the World STATUS: Incomplete. RATING: tbd
Match flew, wearing his bodysuit of pure jet black, covered from neck to toes. He let himself smile as the wind rushed past. He was really moving, just letting himself enjoy the entirety of the world. There was war, and tragedy, darkness and injustice, but he didn't have a place in all of that. He was neither hero nor villain, and neither monster nor diplomat. He would not stoop to be part of their petty games.
He was flying high enough to not be seen by just anyone, but low enough to observe the world. He enjoyed watching everything happen. He didn't know where or how he would fit into this place yet. He knew he would not be welcome among the heroes, not with his past. And he looked upon most villains as petty tyrants and thieves, people with small minds. So, how and where would he find anything like a home? His cave, equipped as it was with tech from different abandoned government outposts and villain lairs, was comfortable, but it was no home.
As he zoomed along, he laughed aloud. He was worrying for nothing. He was strong, and independent, and it suited him, right? Right.