The Brooklyn Museum was a massive, grey building with about 1.5 million works of art. It had taken Emily four days to really appreciate every painting, sculpture, and historical piece the museum had to offer. She was pleased with her accomplishment. The featured exhibit, Swoon: Submerged Motherlands, was especially breath taking. If one had breath to be able to be taken away.

The heat outside was sweltering. Emily could see the waves coming off the pavement. People around her were sweating, their clothes sticking to their skin. But the dead girl felt just fine in her outfit. The jeans were a little too clingy for her liking, but long skirts were a little too out of season. She was happy her body did not feel the heat or produce sweat. Otherwise, walking to her next destination would be almost unbearable.

Her next stop was the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. But how to get there? She looked at her phone. Just head south through the park. That wasn’t so bad. The cell phone was an amazing invention.

Prospect Park was lovely. Emily loved to be around the trees and other flora. A squirrel chatted to her from above. Lovers held hands. Man, today was going to be amazing.

A few people sat on the grass that looked out to Washington Avenue. Some read books, others chatted with friends. Emily remembered the last person she had tried to befriend, a grey frog-mutant named Chris, and shook her head. That had been a bad experience. Why was she so different?

She shook her head again to banish the negative thought. Her brain wasn’t going to ruin her amazing day. Nope.

Emily noticed a disheveled boy sitting alone. Boy? He looked about Emily’s age when she died, maybe a year or two younger. He’d be a man in her day. He looked just as lonely as Emily felt. She had to find an excuse to go say hi.

Tim calmly looked around as he sat on the bench, holding his bag, containing his only belongings, which he had with him. It was a nice day to be outside. Not that Tim really had a choice though; living off the streets wasn't anything to write home about; living off of cheap junk-food and and whatever else was available and not having a chance of showering... No, not a fun life.
Tim remembered having once made fun of homeless people; he took it all back now! Now he understood what it was like - it had to be karma!
Suddenly a man walked past Tim, sending him a very disgusted look all the while. Tim's smile faded and followed the man with his eyes. When he had passed, and Tim was sure no one was looking, he held his hand towards the man and released a wave of repulsive energy, causing the man to stumble in a rather comedic way.
Tim smiled to himself and went back to enjoying the day, relaxing contently.

A well-dressed man walking in her direction had quite blatantly stared at the young man with a look of disgust. She was about to give him a piece of her mind, preaching how not all people had the same advantages as others. But the boy on the bench raised his hand. Then the man fell forward, dropping is papers all over the ground. Emily had found it quite humorous, but helped the obnoxious man pick up his work. One: she hated litter. Two: Even if the guy was a jerk, didn’t mean he should lose his work. The man didn’t even give her a thank you, ugh.

She sat on the bench next to the young-man and watched the embarrassed man hurriedly walk away. Emily gave a small chuckle and looked at her bench-companion. “Nice job there with the push. You hungry? The café in the museum over there has great sandwiches.” She motioned to the north where the Brooklyn Museum was still in view.

Tim found himself panic for a bit. She had seen him push the man?! Tim was afraid this would happen... wait, she acted so natural about it. Was she...? If she was... 'that'... it would be too good to be true; she would be the second mutant he had managed to meet on the street.
"W-... Thanks, I guess," Tim replied, a little unsure of what else to say. She then asked if he was hungry. Was he hungry? Yes - junk-food only helped suppress hunger for a bit... plus it was not exactly healthy. Tim nodded. "Yes, I am... But you don't have to give, I have money myself."
Granted, Tim's money were starting to run dry; he had been alone for almost two weeks now, and he hadn't managed to stock up on money, considering that he had pulled out everything from his bank account and his foster parents hadn't put more money in, of course. Nonetheless, it would be nice to get some help, although Tim didn't want to look like a beggar.

“This is a date, shuga.” Emily said with a wink. “And I asked you out first and I don’t go dutch. You can pay on our next date. I love the disheveled look by-the-way. Very hipster.” Emily didn’t want the young man to feel bad. She had a feeling he was a run-away or had been kicked out of his home for being a mutant. That was more of an epidemic than people realized.

She took the mutant by the hand, wondering if he would noticed how cool it was compared to the sweltering heat. “I’m Emily. You’re what: 16? 17? I just turned eighteen about a week ago so don’t think I’m some old woman hitting on you.” She gave a sweet smile. “Are you from around here? You talk like a native New Yorker. I’m from Nawlins, if you couldn’t tell by the accent.”

Emily had a tendency to talk people’s ears off and she knew it. She hoped this young man wouldn’t be too freaked out over Emily’s forwardness.

A date? Tim raised an eyebrow, finding it highly questionable to suddenly ask someone on a date, nonetheless a homeless... or a homeless mutant! She was being very forward, so much so that it was as if it was some kind gas flowing in the air around the two.
Soon she started showering words down on Tim, to the point where he lost track. he blinked his eyes a few times, completely stumbled by the fast flow of words. "W-... Ehm..." He tilted his head a bit in confusion. "Yes, I... grew up in New York," Tim said to answer one of her questions. "And I'm 17."
Tim didn't really know what else to say. All her words had still left him speechless.

Emily hadn’t realized the boy was having trouble keeping up with her words until his own began to stumble. She stopped in her tracks right outside the museum. The girl looked the boy in the eye. “Look. I have a feeling your confused. That you’ve been out here a little longer than you have wanted to be. Let’s just sit down, have a decent meal, and make small talk.”

The woman climbed the stairs to the front door. She waited for the other mutant to hold the door open for her. It was a force of habit. “So what is your name?” Emily had given hers. Maybe he wanted to stay anonymous or didn’t know the polite thing to do was give your name when someone gave theirs.

The café was a sit down place where a lovely woman in black and white sat them in a booth. The undead girl ordered a water with lemon. “You can order whatever you like, shuga.” She smiled at the boy in front of her.