It was during a hot night in 1966 when two lives crossed for the first time. Adrian Veidt was a maked hero, a costumed adventurer, a vigilante, call it what you will. He along with many others had dedicated his life to crime fighting, cleaning up the streets of New York, to make the world a better place at his own personal risk. He had seen the true face of this wilting society and sought to do everything within in his power to bring the world back from the brink of self destruction. The people here were corrupt, selfish and narrowminded. He had been born into a wealthy family, rich parents, who had both passed away by the time he was seventenn, leaving him their fortune. The fotune was donated to charity, and Adrian set out to prove he could make it himself, settling on becoming a cotumed hero.
There had been many before him. The minutemen having formed many years earlier and since bisbanded. Some dead, one a mother, another put into a mental health facility, another missing the most of the others retired. Only the comedian stil active. Others had since emerged. A second Nite Owl, Rorschach, recently The Silk Spectres daughter took up her mothers role. And of course, Dr Manhattan, the only true superhero to ever exist, a man of incredible power, if one could even call him a man. They had revolutionised the way the world ran, crime fighting became something different, with the masked vigilantes working along side the New York police department going to lengths the law enforcment officials would never dare, but never publically identifying themselves. For a while, the fate of the world meant little to Adrian, he knew it was headed towards doom, and knew he was powerless to stop it, and somehow, he didn't care. Until he had someone to care about.
He heard screams. A womans screams from one of the many dark alley ways in New York, he had always thought filling New York with so many blind spots had been a design flaw. He had been up on a roof, watching the city when the scream errupted from behind him. Adrian span around and listened intently, waiting until she screamed a second time, then he moved.
Within seconds he had ran the length of the roof and was already descending down the side of the building with beautiful landed gracefully on the floor and wasted no time in tearing away from his safe perch and towards the sounds of the distressed woman, his rich purple cape billowing out behind him gracefully. The night blurred past him as he ran as fast as his body would allow. Making it to the alley way in mere minutes, turning into the blacked out area and searching for whoever needed his help.
He turned a corner and found himself face to face with a mask. He stopped, dead in his tracks, taken aback. Green eyes were locked onto his own blue. Framed by a black mask almost identical to his own, with a very intricate purple pattern carved into the material. Pale skin made up the rest of the face, striking high cheekbones and plump perfectly shaped lips, with unnaturally red hair tied at the crown of the head. This was the shade of red that came in a bottle, a colour Adrian could only describe as wine red. Her costume reminded Adrian greatly of The Silhouette. She too wore trousers, tight, spandex, black. Clung perfectly to her thighs and buttocks. A corrset, black and made of what he thought to be the same material his own costume was made from, with the same pattern etched into it as her mask. Her breast was heaving as she breathed deeply, regaining breath. A jacket, long sleeved, ending in fingerless gloves. Black and spandex, cut to only cover the back left exposed at the top of the corset. And she was beautiful.
Adrians breath caught in his throat as he heard hers do the same. She stared at him wide-eyed and unblinking, still holding the collar of an unconcious man in her hand, as the woman cowered in the shadows behind her, sobbing quietly into her arms. He willed himself to speak, to say something to this masked woman he had only seen in newspaper clippings. She was younger than he had imagined. He wanted to speak, and never before had Adrian Veidt been stuck for words, but here he was, rattling his brain for something, anything. And finding nothing but feeling the urge to reach out and touch her pale face. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither speaking until she dropped the man to the floor in a heep and left him there with the other two attackers and took a step away from Adrian, before turning on her heel and running away into the night. In the mere seconds he had to look at her from behind, he noticed the long hair cascaded neatly down her back, in a long straight pony tail. And her shoes, purple, with a high silver heel. He stepped forward, a hand reaching out to her, already gone.
It took him a few seconds to recover. He shook himself back to life and bent down beside the sobbing woman, pulling her unsteadily onto her feet and brushing her off, checking her for injury and finding nothing. She sobbed helplessly and clung onto Adrian, still terrfied. Still very much distracted, he esscorted her home, leaving her attackers unconcious on the grime covered floor, hopefully the police would deal with them. Once she was safely locked in her apartment Adrian departed and went back out into the night, taking up another watch over the sinister city. His encouter had shook him, for reasons he couldn't understand. He knew who she was, she had been active for the past couple of months, already having busted a child pornography ring single handedly. She was New Yorks newest hero, and her name was Titan.