Not without my pants!!!

Be gentle. my first attempt at anything resembling fan-fiction.
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The shrill alarm shattered the early morning quiet.

"Mmph," came the sounds from beneath the pile of sheets and blankets as a hand clumsily flailed at the alarm, finally succeeding in mashing the 'off' button to silence the infernal machine. The hand collapsed where it was, as a sigh rose from the person under the bedcovers. After a moment, Trevyn pushed himself upright in bed, and groggily rubbed his face.

"You know, waking up was a lot easier ten years ago," he muttered to himself.

Sighing, and climbing out of bed, Trevyn grabbed the robe from where it hung on the hook on the back of the door. Wrapping it around himself, Trevyn padded down the hallway, and out into the living room. opening the door, and cringing against the creaking it made, he reach down onto the porch and pulled in the morning newspaper. Glancing around the quiet neighborhood, Trevyn could hear the early songbirds making a raucous in the trees a few houses down.

Feeling a small presence near his ankles finally making herself known, Trevyn smiled and scratched Daphne The Wonder Cat. The perfectly normal calico purred as she rubbed against his hand, then she wandered off to curl up in the sunlight streaming through the screen door and pooling on the carpet.

Leaving the main door open, the screen door closed, and a contented kitty lounging in the sunlight, Trevyn tossed the paper onto the couch and headed for the kitchen. Inhaling deeply, the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee caressed his sense of smell. "Ahh," he said to the coffee pot with a self-timer, " you've got to be the best invention in the world, bar none." Smiling, he grabbed a mug out of the cupboard and poured himself some coffee. Trevyn had tried for several years to cut coffee entirely from his regime, but simply couldn't give up the sensuous pleasures of it. He'd finally been able to cut back to just the one cup per day in the morning, and switching to tea, another of his vices, later if he needed something else.

Bringing his mug of blisteringly hot coffee with him down the hall, into the bathroom, and setting it on the counter, Trevyn started the shower, adjusting the water's temperature. Once he got the water to the proper temperature, he shucked the robe and tossed it over the door, and clambered into the shower. Quickly rinsing the sleep from his body, Trevyn grabbed the soap and lathered up, then snagged the shampoo and did his hair. As he backed up under the water to rinse off, Trevyn raised his arms to run his hands through his hair. Pausing to glance at the Celtic knotwork tattoos on his forearms, Trevyn was caught in a momentary time-fugue as he flashed back to the day he'd decided to get the markings inscribed, 6 years ago, after graduation from the Hero Corps training program.

He had been experimenting with the abilities that had slowly started to manifest themselves. At first, he'd used them for teen-age pranks; shocking someone in the hallway, or sucking all the energy out of the batteries in the teacher's cellphone. After graduation, though, Trevyn's abilities seemed to keep growing stronger and become more powerful: a simple shock turned into a heart-stopping slam, a simple pull of energy would sometimes knock him off his feet.

August of 1996 was decision-time for Trevyn. His mutations had finally caught the eye of the Hero Corps, and Trevyn knew he could no longer control the powers reliably without training. So, he volunteered for the Corps, taking on the moniker 'Celtika' in honor of his love of all things Celtic.

Shaking off the memories, Trevyn finished rinsing off, turned off the water and snaked his arm out of the shower to grab a towel from the hook.

"Dammit, it figures. Never one when you need it, just like cops," he smirked when his grasping fingers failed to find a towel. Stepping out of the shower Trevyn grabbed the mug of coffee, which had now cooled to a drinkable temperature, and took a nice long sip. Daphne watched him from the hallway, near the entrance to the kitchen, where she had moved during his shower, in anticipation of breakfast.

Abruptly, Daphne's ears twitched. Turning to watch something in the kitchen out of view from the bathroom, she went into a stalking crouch, much like she did for chasing a piece of string. Silly cat, Trevyn mused, smiling, as he reached for the robe hanging on the bathroom door. He froze, though, as he hear a small sound from the kitchen.

The sound, though faint, was unmistakable. The small clank and grind of gears and metallic joints filtered through the walls.

Summoning energy and preparing to take action, he thought, Great. Just great. Clockwork in the kitchen and I don't even have my pants on...

Patiently waiting for a sequel....

PS: Checkout the Whitmoore Apts thread, fun place to RP and write.