Bare feet and pale toes wiggled their way down into the sand. Dressed only in jeans and a black t-shirt, Devon stood happily on the The People’s Beach. He’d last been here months ago and had met Scott in this very spot, but he’d apparently run out of town. He had said he liked good surfing and moved around a lot – quickly – so who knew where he went. It was hard to beat this beach though considering its proximity to the city. Jacob Riis Park was quite nice for the southern part of Long Island anyway.

It helped it was unseasonably warm today. It’s what had gotten Devon out to enjoy a free day. Apparently many others had felt the same way. Granted it was supposed to be a little cloudier and maybe a degrees cooler here on the coast, but the weather forecast had improved. Behind sunglasses and opalescent eyes Tempest knew why.

He’d abandoned his shoes at the top of the beach, holding them on two fingers over his back as he dug his feet into the sand. The feeling was deeply grounding, somehow immediately relaxing though clearly the sound of the water lapping at the beach helped. Children were laughing over at the park area and a pinball machine buzzed and chimed with success at the arcade. A somewhat distracting trio walked out of the water in their wet suits.

“Good surfing?” Devon asked as they walked by.

“Not bad,” one replied, grinning.

Devon grinned back, but they kept walking.

Devon shrugged a shoulder, still smiling, and leaned back. Blanket or not, it was just sand. He gazed up at the sky and let out a long, relaxed breath.

It was a step. A small step, but a step nonetheless. Eventually Jorge was going to have to get used to this again, he knew it, but it was still hard to so much as start. Jorge wanted to believe that he was well, that he had full control of his abilities again, but the man knew that there was so much more that needed to be done. While physically he seemed sound, mentally there was still a lot of doubt and fear that he was going to fail and dissolve again, only this time he wasn’t going to be able to come back. They were anxious thoughts and they were difficult to combat. The only way he knew was by embracing them.

The day called for unseasonable warmth and provided the perfect excuse to go out and continue to explore his fears. He wasn’t going to get any better unless he pushed himself, deep down he knew that, but that didn’t mean it made the process any easier. Still, the man forced himself to get out of bed, to dress in his cargo shorts, flip flops, and a black tanktop with “Miami Dolphins” emblazoned across the chest. All that in hand, including his English bulldog Lizzie, and Jorge headed out for a day on the beach.

When his black chevy impala had pulled into the parking lot, the detective was immediately hit by the scent of the sea water and he could feel a tremor roll down his spine. Where most people found the scent relaxing and calm, to Jorge it was a reminder of those years he spent drifting as part of the waves themselves. Though he in no way could remember any of it clearly, he did catch glimpses, flashes, sensations that tore through his mind painfully. It was certainly not a state of being he ever wanted to revisit – but he also knew he couldn’t be scared of it the rest of his life.

So, nerves steeled and determination in his mind, Jorge pushed the door to his car open and attached the leash to Lizzie’s collar and ushered her out. ”Come on, girl,” he told her gently. ”Let’s go for a walk.”

Lizzie has been his faithful dog for years. The English bulldog was one of the first to greet him when he awoke in the hospital. Gemma had to bribe a number of nurses to allow the pooch in but the whines and the sad / relieved yips were exactly what Jorge needed. The dog was all over him, causing him to chuckle and wince as the dog rolled all over his chest and body. When she had finally settled she had firmly planted herself upon his chest and refused to move for anyone, including himself. He was thankful that, eventually she found reason and listened to him, but she was going to be by his side as long as she could.

Jorge walked onto the beach, slipping his flip-flops into a large pocket on his shoulders. The warmth of the breeze was welcome but the sound of the churning waters was still enough to keep the detective on edge. Still, the man forced himself to press on, focusing instead on the dog as she happily charged across the sand, licking and sniffing at everything that came across her path – this including a young man who was sitting back on the sand and watching the water. Instantly he felt embarrassed when Lizzie nudged the man’s back with her nose and started to lick.

”Lizzie, no! I’m so sorry, sir,” Jorge said. ”Been awhile since she’s been to the beach and she’s apparently lost all manners.”

Lots of people come to the park. Some want to take a nice walk and enjoy the greenery. A few are here to ride bikes, jog, roller blade, or skateboard. A couple earlier was taking time for a picnic. Others do a little shop at the touristy shops. Plenty enjoy the surfing of the beach, merely catching some sun, or the tranquility of nature this close to the city. While Montauk had quiet and serenity, it was also an hour away from a hospital (easily) and possibly farther from any actual socialized fun.

Others came to walk their dog and thankfully Devon was a dog person.

>> ”Lizzie, no! I’m so sorry, sir,” Jorge said. ”Been awhile since she’s been to the beach and she’s apparently lost all manners.”

“Oh, it’s okay, she’s cute,” Devon grinned. So was the owner he had to admit. Sir though? Only a few types would have called the barefoot 20-something sir when he was certainly older. Military maybe? He sat up and pivoted to scratch behind the bulldog’s ears. “I’m glad you can enjoy the beach. I sure am.”

“Lizzie you said?” Devon peered up at the owner again. Devon’s eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses but he grinned broadly and looked back down at the curious girl. “I’m Devon. A pleasure to meet you,” he chuckled and then slowly stood up, offering his hand to the be-shorted dog walker. “I think everyone’s taking a chance to get out. Hasn’t been any good beach weather since October though if cold isn’t a problem, you can probably find a good walk here provided it’s not a snowstorm.”

Well this was slightly embarrassing. In her excitement to be outside with her human again, Lizzie had run off and started pounce on near everything with fervor. Unfortunately her curiosity and her need to let everyone know just how curious she was seemed to translate into her believing she had rights to bug any and every one – including those people who were just trying to relax and enjoy the beach. The young man that the old girl had bothered didn’t seem too worried about what she had don’t and instead just grinned at her. Jorge was glad for that as the man didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with anyone now that he was among the solid again.

Jorge smirked as the man turned and gave Lizzie the attention that she desperately wanted from everyone. She whined softly, patting her paws into the sand and sniffing at every interesting thing that came her way. As she busied herself with that, the other man sat up and started to scratch behind her ear; it was greatly appreciated. Lizzie immediately started to lend herself out for more attention by flopping on her side and happily rolling onto her back for the scritches and scratches to continue for as long as the man was willing to give them.

The detective could only sigh and shake his head disappointedly at the dog as he stepped closer and knelt down next to her. She was beside herself with the attention she was getting so she didn’t immediately turn attention onto him, but when she did it was evident that she needed to start acting like the lady that she was. Rolling back onto the side, Lizzie sat lounging, pretending she had done nothing wrong and just nosed at the mounds of sand she had built up around her.

Jorge snorted; he never could stay mad at her.

His attention turned back to the other man who had introduced himself as Devon. Both standing, the man extended his hand to Jorge, commenting that the break in the weather was welcome so that they could all enjoy the beach again. The detective nodded, agreeing that the weather was favorable but didn’t admit that he was still a little wary around the water – there was no need to get into that kind of detail with him.

Taking the man’s hand into his own, he shook it firmly and returned the greeting he was offered. ”Jorge. Pleasure’s all mine,’ he said with a nod. ”Yeah the Fall and Winter can be pretty brutal here. I’ve been…out of town the last few years. Traveling.” Such an expert lie. ”I guess I have go to get used to the New York’s need to be its own climate again, haha.”

Devon smiled, “Nice to meet you, Jorge.” While Devon had looked forward to a relaxing day of introversion and good weather, he wasn’t opposed to a serendipitous introduction by way of dog. That was the nature of parks, the beach, and most of New York City anyway.

As Jorge described the woes of New England winter, Devon bent back down to give Lizzie a bit more attention. He scratched behind her ears and then under her chin.

>> ”I guess I have go to get used to the New York’s need to be its own climate again, haha.”

“Oh yeah,” Devon laughed, resuming a standing position. “It’s like that all over New England. I’m a transplant from the Boston area. Here we’re at the butt end of the jet stream yet we get the impact of the gulf stream, all that ocean effect-“ He stopped, realizing they were strangers chatting about the weather and Devon was rambling on. He blinked a few times and grinned.

“It’ll be spring before you know it,” he shrugged a shoulder, “especially with days like today.” Well, sort of… Devon’s grin brightened. “But welcome back. Traveling to warm coasts I hope? If it’s been a while there’s plenty of new good hot spots. Donuts are the new cupcakes, so lots of specialty donut shops have sprung up for example.”

Jorge had to get used to meeting with people again. His time away had left the man a bit more awkward than he would have liked but he was hanging in there as best he could. It helped to talk to people, to get to know strangers again. He had existed for so long without the comforting sound of another human voice and instead had deafened by the sound of constantly rolling waves. He wasn’t even fully sure how that was possible but it was. However, despite the impossibility of certain aspects of his odyssey, it was suffice to say that the detective was happy to talk with another living, breathing human being.

Even if his dog was making a rather spectacle of herself the way she carried on, rolling through the sand and begging for more and more attention. Thankfully the other man seemed to be receptive of her grabs for attention and spoiled her rotten with what she craved so badly. Even Jorge had to chuckle at the manner with which Lizzie had managed to subdue yet another stranger into submission; if even she watched to rule the world, Jorge was certain she could.

Devon, as the man introduced himself, greeted him kindly. The detective nodded, commenting on having to get used to the strange New York weather again. The state, even the city itself, seemed to have a mind of its own on how it wanted the weather the run. It stormed, heated up, and snowed whenever it damn well felt like it; it also didn’t help that this was an epicenter of mutant kind and that tended to result in a variety of interesting aberrations to whatever the suspected norm is supposed to be.

Devon agreed, admitting that the strange weather phenomena could be found all over the state. As the man hailed from Boston, he began to explain, in some very specific terms, the odd atmospheric patterns that were forming everywhere. But as he described them to him, the detective had to admit that he was a bit surprised by exactly how much information Devon was providing. He seemed as if he had a genuine knowledge of these things, to a point that even Jorge found himself lost partially through the conversation. Thankfully the expression on his face, or just a means of stopping himself, Devon caught onto his jargon and ceased the word vomit that spilled from his lips.

Jorge was met with a shrug as the man admitted that spring would be here soon enough and proceeded to welcome him back to New York. At the news that there were new venues to try, including various trendy specialty doughnut shops, Jorge clearly had his interest piqued. God, he couldn’t be a more stereotypical police officer, could he? He shook his head, smirking to himself before he nodded to the man.

”I’lll have to find one of those,” he admitted. ”I just hope my palette isn’t too dumbed down to appreciate it. Too many late nights and early mornings of the bargain pastries and burnt black coffee could have ruined my discerning tastes.”

A hearty chuckle and he patted his flat, yet muscular stomach. The few pats he gave it abdomen resounded with a firm, hard sound, not the flatty slap one would expect for a man of his age. It was clear he took care of himself. The detective was toned, with a swimmer’s build, if doughnuts had been a staple of his diet (which it was for an officer such as him), it was clear that his body knew how to process it.

However, despite the allure of possible doughnuts, Jorge had to admit that the man had his interest. Smirking at him as he scrutinized, he gestured to him. ”When you were talking about the weather…if really sounded like you knew what you were talking about.” He said. ”If you don’t mind my prying, are you a weather man or, whadda a call…” he snapped his fingers a thought before it came to him. ”…meteorologist? That’s the word.” He gave the younger man a kindly smirk. He remembered a word, yaaay.

>> ”I’lll have to find one of those,” he admitted.

Devon nodded, grinning broadly. They were well worth it! Devon favored savory over sweet, but it was hard to say no to a good doughtnut.

>> ”I just hope my palette isn’t too dumbed down to appreciate it. Too many late nights and early mornings of the bargain pastries and burnt black coffee could have ruined my discerning tastes.”

Devon laughed good naturedly, but that was a revealing statement to digest. Unless this guy worked random construction hours, this screamed police officer or detective. Devon’s increasing familiarity with the force, especially where Sanctuary was concerned, had given him new appreciation for the men and women who served the city. Good sleep and a good meal were hard to come by and people were not very appreciative…

It was no wonder Cafas had been put off by Devon at first. Devon had started too gruffly about the coverage for the area around the homeless community center and Cafas had been admittedly defensive. Still, they’d worked past it and things had prospered. Of course there was Linely too who Devon had helped and worked with before. He had some sorrow in his heart but very good intentions.

Of course, while Devon’s mind quickly thought that over he didn’t miss a casual glance to the man’s stomach as he drew attention to his stomach, hidden behind a black tank top. This construction guy either really cared about his fitness, or he was indeed an active cop. Still, it was good for anyone to consider their athleticism and not quite right to assume anything about the guy.

Definitely don’t assume about this guy.

Don’t assume. Who knows…

>> ”…meteorologist? That’s the word.”

“Ah, no,” Devon shook his head with another bright smile and chuckle. “No, I’m not though I thought about it. I’m actually a psychologist, working with the state right now though I’d like to open my own practice.” He nodded slowly, “I like working with people through things. Unfortunately in this city there can be some difficult things people face and I hope to help make their lives a little better while working through those things.”

“But thanks,” Devon nodded again. “I appreciate the compliment. Sorry I was rambling,” he blushed slightly, putting a hand behind his head and tussling at his hair. “I do that sometimes.” Realizing he was blushing, the blue eyed young man took on a redder flush to his cheeks quite clearly not from the sunshine. He bent down in some attempt to be smooth and pet Lizzie.

“How about you? I take it you’re an officer if I’m guessing right?” Devon glanced up.

Given that the man had spouted on about weather patterns in a jargon-filled language that Jorge struggled to follow, he had figured that his first assumption that the man was a, well, weather man, was spot on. Sadly, after he had made his observation, the other that denied that that was actually his profession. Instead he went on the explain that he was actually a psychologist who worked for the state with dreams of opening his own practice. That was admirable, to say the least, so Jorge nodded in an impressed manner and listened to the man as he continued to explain about the plight of the city.

If anything that was true, as Jorge knew it. The city had gone through a lot even when he was around. Mutants were flocking to the city and even in his absence, as he would come to read up on, major happenings seemed to be rotating through as frequently as the seasons. With so much happening, it was a true statement to say that the people of this city needed help. However he was pulled from these thoughts when the other seemingly caught himself from rambling on, apologized, and blushed for his faux pas. Dismissively Jorge waved his hand.

”No apology necessary,” he explained.”We all get a little carried away when we are talking about something that we are passionate about.” He gave the man a kindly smile and watched as he bent down to pet Lizzie.

The bulldog was more than content to get as much attention from the stranger that she could. Jorge liked to joke that if anyone had ever broken into his house, they were probably going to end up being robbed blind so long as the robbers just scratched behind Lizzie’s ears. What a fierce guard dog the man had in his life. Still, he loved the little brat, even if she wasn’t all that great for protection.

It was then that the question was turned to him as the man inquired as to his profession, guessing correctly if he was a police officer. Jorge smirk, clearly indicating that the man was absolutely correct, and placed his hands on his hips. He guessed that there was a commonality between police officers, well, some anyways. If not physically then something in the way they spoke or interacted with people? Curiosity drove him to ask how the man knew this.

”What gave it away?” he said with a smirk. ”And if you say because ‘I smell bacon’, I can figure a way to arrest you for that.” He was only joking, of course. Jorge had never been one to abuse his powers as an officer of the law. ”Detective, actually,” he clarified his rank. ”Been one in New York since 2010. Been in the law enforcement life much longer. Maybe that’s why I like doughnuts so much, to embrace my inner cliché.”

>> ”No apology necessary,” he explained.”We all get a little carried away when we are talking about something that we are passionate about.”

Devon gave a quick nod. You didn’t just come right out and say: Oh no, that’s not my career, that’s my MUTANT POWER, for I am Tempest, warlock of weather and master of the skies! Granted, no one talked that way unless they were a narcissistic psychopath, maybe sociopath. You saved that for like the first time you went to a baseball game or a second date or when you got stuck in a bad storm…

The young man grinned as he through attention all over Lizzie. Who didn’t love dogs? Tempest thought cats could be sweet, but dogs were often cuter. He’d often considered getting one but NYC wasn’t the easiest place to have a dog. Devon had to wonder how easy it was to travel with one, especially if what Jorge was saying was correct.

He wasn’t simply a cop; he was a detective. If he’d been away for a while that might mean he worked undercover in large operations or he had taken some time away for personal reasons. It was difficult to figure out which exactly.

“No, no, not bacon,” Devon laughed, standing again. He shook his head while a larger grin blossomed on his face. “It was how you spoke about late nights and early days, along with eating doughtnuts. I thought maybe construction but you’re in pretty good shape too.” It was Devon’s turn to pat his lean stomach. "Not all officers seem to, but maybe that’s a detective thing? You running years-long training camps away from the city maybe?”

Devon laughed again, “You don’t need to answer.” He shook his head and waved his hands no, “That’s your business, it’s partly why I thought construction though as that can send people away from home. It’s great you enjoy the job though if you’ve been in for years.” He smiled, “If doughnuts are the only cliché failing you’ve got, I’m sure you’re fine.”

Though Jorge had only met this guy today, he was feeling like he was pretty easy to talk to. That was a good thing for as friendly as Jorge always was, his career and his abilities didn’t always make him the best of friends. His mind drifted back to the pretty blonde who had stumbled across him when he was physical therapy, trying to hone his abilities again. She was so taken aback by the visage that she was as jumpy as a scared rabbit for the entire day. It was a terrible feeling to know that he participated in making her feel so utterly uncomfortable, even if it was completely unintentional. However the man wasn’t going to let that stop him from being who he was and he was naturally a friendly individual.

Striking up a conversation with this stranger was something new to him but he was thankful for it anyways. The young man seemed like an interesting person, not at all prone to the stereotypes of people his age, embracing the anarchist belief that all police officers were these evil monsters. Even when Jorge cracked the joke about him being identifiable by the scent of bacon, the man only laughed it off, stating that it wasn’t in his head at all. That was good to hear.

Jorge watched as the man continued to dote attention upon his English bulldog and explained that he was able to pinpoint his career by several other key factors. His reminiscing about late nights and early mornings, the stereotype about eating doughnuts, and so forth, had brought to mind only a limited number of professions that the detective could have held. Being a part of the law, clearly, was one of them. Though it seemed it was the fact that Jorge was in good shape that had been the tipping point at proving his job.

He smirked, a slight and unnoticeable color to his cheeks at the compliment and the man nodded his thanks. Devon had compared his physique to his own, clearly no contest as the other had youth on his side, but finished by jokingly guessing at what Jorge had been up to in his time away, a training camp to keep in shape. Jorge snorted in response.

”Sadly, I can’t say. But it wasn’t that,” he remarked. Honestly there was no reason to tell man about his years drifting as part of the ocean waves. He probably wouldn’t even believe him. Another compliment was thrown at him as Devon agreed that if doughnuts were his only failing then he was on sound footing. ”Well I’m glad to say that is my only cliché, for the most part. Let’s pray that no more crop up out of no where.”

He sighed, embracing the warmth of the day, happy to be out and conversing. Just a glance at Lizzie showed that she was more than content with the attention that she was getting but they couldn’t stay there forever. Still, he would let the little dog rest and rejoice in the pets and scratches she got. It wasn’t as if anything terrible was going to happen here. It was the beach after all.

”I do feel bad that Lizzie is being so demanding right now,” he chuckled at his dog. ”Last thing I want is for her to steal you away from any important private time that you are having out here.”

>> ”Sadly, I can’t say. But it wasn’t that,”

It was as Devon thought, likely an undercover operation. Hopefully it had gone well if Jorge was back home and looked okay. There was always the chance they’d had to pull him out before it finished. He didn’t know Jorge well enough to guess whether the quick change of subject was professionalism or avoidance. There was a chance it was both. Either way, Devon let it go.

>> ”Well I’m glad to say that is my only cliché, for the most part. Let’s pray that no more crop up out of no where.”

Doughnuts weren’t much of a fault, even if they were a cliché for a cop. Who didn’t enjoy them unless of course they had to avoid the fat or sugar. “Yeah, it’s an okay one to have,” he nodded with a quick chuckle. “Good to indulge here and there, especially if you’ve been away for a while doing whatever. I can think of at least four just off the top of my head we can visit.”

>> ”I do feel bad that Lizzie is being so demanding right now,” he chuckled at his dog. ”Last thing I want is for her to steal you away from any important private time that you are having out here.”

“Lizzie is amazing,” Devon chuckled, giving the girl a quick rub. “And I really don’t mind. It’s good to meet you. Let me get your-“

A loud scream followed by a strange reverberating echo traveled across the beach. Ripples disturbed the water of the small crashing wave nearby. Devon looked immediately up and down the beach, not seeing anything immediately. Shouting was coming from the direction of the park.

Devon gave Jorge one quick glance as he started running.

Have you ever been in one of those situation when someone keeps saying something, so many times, over and over again to the point that you begin to want that particular something? Obviously doughnuts were just a topic of conversation, an example of how things had changed in the time that Jorge was away. However, both Devon and Jorge had spoken so much about the confectionary delights that the detective was actively beginning to crave them. It was to the point that he convinced himself that after this conversation he was going to find a local doughnut shop just to grab a couple.

Thankfully the man seemed to be reading his mind as he mentioned that there were at least four places sold the fancy doughnuts that they could visit. Swayed by this idea, the man smirked and nodded, already agreeing that it would be a good idea. However, he was stopped (as was Devon) when a shrill scream filled the air. Both their attentions turned towards the nearby park where there were already people running. Shit, what was going on now?

Before the detective could say anything, Devon looked at him before he shrugged and ran off towards the commotion. Jorge held out his hand to stop him before he shook his head. Damn civilians sticking their noses where it didn’t belong. With a grumble, Jorge snapped his fingers to his dog which had moved onto her feet.

”Lizzie. Car. Go.” That was all he had to say. Lizzie was actually very well trained, despite her inability to protect her master from strangers. Without a word she bolted, running away from the scene and back to the car that she had emerged from to wait patiently by the passenger side door. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about her.

With his dog safe, Jorge took off after the young man he had just been speaking to. He needed to find out what was going on, it was his job after all. So, running towards the park, moving between fleeing people, Jorge found that as he ran, it was getting more difficult. Not because he was an invalid or that his body didn’t work, but because he found he could scarcely keep on his two feet. The man shook and rattled, feeling that his footing was never firm. The ground was moving, it seemed, shaking and undulating underneath his feet. The last time he had felt something like this was when he was a teenager in California and had to live with earthquakes.

This was an earthquake.

Stumbling for a few feet, Jorge finally came close enough to the epicenter of the problem. There, in the middle of a small skate park situated in the middle of the park was a young man, no more than fifteen or sixteen, dressed in baggy years and a loose tank top. He was shouting, holding his hands to his helmet as he shouted about the pain. As his screams got louder, the vibrations got worse. The entire earth was wailing along with him.

Jorge tried to advancing, holding onto a planted tree as he got closer and tried to shout over the rolling vibrations. ”Son! You need to calm down! You have to redirect! You’re tearing it all apar—“ His voice was cut short – it would seem that the earth disagreed with him.

As Jorge advanced, there was a sudden loud cracking as the earth itself literally punched at the detective with a massive fist made of stone, earth, and soil. The detective shouted and dove out of the way, looking back in time to see the tree that he had been holding onto was not snapped in two. It seemed that this kid was a mutant and his abilities were fairly obvious, a form of earth manipulation. As if to clarify his though, fists, feet, even and agonized head ripped upwards from the park ground. Jorge yelped as he stood, only to leap away as another face erupted from the ground.

”God almighty,” Jorge gasped. He moved onto his wobbly feet and tried to survey the area. He saw Devon head this way, but where was he?

Devon ran quickly, leaving Jorge behind him. He had no doubt the police detective would have a plan, but whatever had caused that echo wasn’t normal police business. He heard the command for Lizzie to go and that was good, if anything were to happen to the dog Devon would have been quite upset. His focus wasn’t on the dog or Jorge, however.

Darkness swam behind Tempest’s sunglasses. He pulled moisture from the air and set a small breeze to stir around him, ready to aid his efforts. The disturbance in the air from the reverberating earth was strange. It didn’t originate from a central point in the air; Tempest had guessed it was something sonic in nature. No, the earth was shaking.

Tempest jumped into the wind he summoned. He didn’t dash into the park directly. No, he went around the long way, circling from the other side of screaming, shouting and earth quaking. This reminded him of Rocky from back at the Sanctuary; Ted’s terrakinesis could cause shaking like this though he usually pulled the earth to himself like armor. But he could feel what was happening to the Earth just like Tempest could see the very weather. He watched closely as he came around through a tall set of bushes and a copse of trees.

It was the skate park. A teenager screamed in pain, clutching at his head as he thrashed about on the ground. Every scream was like a punctuated wail through the ground. Maybe it was sonic or vibratory after all. It was like the tectonic plate was shaking. This kid clearly didn’t know what was happening to him, his mutantcy was awakening. The ground rolled again as the kid screamed anew.

>> ”Son! You need to calm down! You have to redirect! You’re tearing it all apar—“

Ah there he was. And there he went, his reflexes carrying him through a dive to dodge the earthen fist the kid created. The tree he was near was dead now, split in two by the force of the kid’s power’s wake like anyone who called attention to himself was bound to be. What followed was more disturbing as appendages rose from the ground including terrified, tormented faces.

Tempest slipped back behind the trees and around the bushes, hiding again though staying on his toes, knees bent and ready to jump. His sunglasses still hid his eyes but they turned up, gazing into the sky. He commanded rising winds to roar off the ocean and they did, howling above. They didn’t come gusting down along the ground; he merely wanted more sound to disorient the boy from sending any attacks at him or anyone else for that matter.

“Breathe!” Tempest shouted. “Remember to breathe! You are a mutant and you are somehow tapped into the earth!” What could have been causing him pain? Ted said feeling large trucks come through were especially distracting, but he didn’t often speak of pain. Yet his power seemed more rooted in rock formations. The shifting, shaking, quaking vibrations and the pure terrakinetic expressions this kid summoned. He was something far more than Rocky.

Maybe it was like Devon’s first days, seeing so many new and confusing things in the world around him. It had overloaded his vision, given him headaches. It had taken a while to even get an idea what everything meant, what he was truly seeing.

“Please, remember to breathe. You are likely sensing things about the earth!” Tempest shouted but anything else was drowned out by another quake. Part of the skate park cracked and a large curve crumbled as it fell. The ground roared as everything shook. Cracks appeared through the park as the crust struggled to maintain unity.

Children were crying and screaming amidst the yelling pleas and terrified hollering of adults. Tempest sprang on his feet, dashing back through the bushes as he saw two kids near to 10 trying to run from the separating earth. With a lofty gestured, Tempest sent a gust in their direction, pushing them along and scooping them up. They flew back and away, caught by yet another practiced gust.

The new mutant knelt still on the fractured park slope, chunks of rock and jagged spikes of earth radiating around him. It looked to Devon like what a piercing headache might appear to be. Around them more screaming faces and claw-fingered hands had risen from the ground.

“Whatever your name is, I’m Devon! I help mutants at Sanctuary! We can help you! Breathe and you can get through this!” Tempest shouted again.

It was pure pandemonium. Jorge watched in horror as the earth at his feet churned and waved like water, forming agonized faces and lashing out at absolutely anything that moved. It was just pure madness, the kind that Jorge read about in books by H.P. Lovecraft, of massive entities being everywhere and nowhere at the same time, striking at anything that got too close. Though this wasn’t the paranormal, extra-dimensional variety of danger, it was something that was an immediate threat to everyone here. Jorge watched as people ran, some just barely escaping, others trapped in circled of jagged stones. Still he didn’t see Tempest and try as he might to speak to the kid, he wasn’t listening. Okay, it was time for cop-brain to take over: assess, rescue, contain.

Assess. This situation was being caused by a mutant. Judging by his age and his current state of distress, this had to be the first-time manifestation of mutant abilities. Earth control? Terrakinesis? He was screaming in pain so it had to be connected somehow. The problem was figuring out, well, the problem.

Rescue. Innocent civilians were in danger. Jorge knew that he couldn’t do any good here if he couldn’t focus on getting through to the kid. So long as there were people in danger then he couldn’t put his sole focus on the boy. He needed to get innocent bystanders out of here, as many of them as he could.

Contain. Once everything else had been handled, Jorge could throw his attention at the boy and, hopefully, get through to him. He was young, only a teenager, so this was the first time his powers were developing. It was dangerous, it made him dangerous. Being a public servant, Jorge knew, deep down, that if he couldn’t get through to the mutant then he would have to ensure the safety of everyone else – at any cost. But he wouldn’t let it come to that; he wouldn’t.

With a plan in mind, Jorge jumped to action. Moving on his feet, Jorge ran to the ring of stone where he saw people trapped. Running across the undulating ground, the experienced detective leapt, and jumped, dodging around stone, growling when jagged shrapnel flew in his direction and sliced him across the ribs. But he pushed on and ignored the pain until he had reached his destination, crawled over the stone ring and into the perimeter.

They jumped and screamed when Jorge appeared, figuring him to be just another victim. However the detective was more than that. Reaching deep into the earth with his senses, Jorge found the deep pipes that ran through any metropolis, coursing with the flow of water. Growling and not even thinking that this was one of the first times using his abilities in the field, Jorge willed the water to come to him. The earth shook anew, but this was different, more localized. People backed away from a bubble that started to rise from the earth and jumped with it suddenly split and a solid stream of water erupted. Jorge brought it up and around him, like a coiling snake before he gestured towards the wall of stone and buffeted it with water. What usually took eons, Jorge did in seconds as he sent the water quickly eroded and punched through the stone, opening a sizeable gap – a means of escape.

The people gathered stood there, shaking, and stared at Jorge in surprise. Giving them all a hard look, Jorge rolled his eyes as he wanted to push passed the whole “Oh my god, he’s a mutant” aspect of this situation. He gestured to the opening and shouted in an authoritative manner. ”GO!” Without needing a second prompting, they all ran out and to safety. Shaking his head, Jorge ran and climbed over the ring of stone and headed back into the seen.

As the roaring of the earth and the wailing of the teenager continued to pound against his ears, Jorge looked over to see that Devon, his new friend, had finally made an appearance. The man was trying to get through to the kid but seemed to be having just as difficult a time as Jorge was before. Oh but he couldn’t blame him. The way the teenager looked, the manner with which he screamed and shouted, he was in pain, but what was the cause?

From what Jorge knew of being an elemental type mutant, connecting with elements was dangerous and disorienting. Judging from the manner that the earth responded around him, Jorge began to wonder if the sensory input was too much? Did he feel everything in the earth and soil around him? If so then it was no wonder that he was hurting. When Jorge’s own powers had developed further he remembered how disorienting it was to focus through the noise of his water-sense triggering from everywhere around him. It was enough to give anyone a massive migraine. He had to act before others took things in a direction it didn’t need to go.

He ran. Dodging around jutting spires of stone and showers of shards, Jorge ducked and weaved around hazards until he got closer. Devon was still trying to reason with him, however, it was clear that he was in danger as well. Spires of stone were erupting from all angles, some dangerously close to his new friend. With a look of determination, Jorge forgot any fears or misgivings he had about using his abilities and reached back into the pipes running below the park. With a gesture the ground bubbled and erupted as a geyser of water picked up just underneath Jorge’s feet. He manipulated this geyser to turn and spin like a water serpent through the open air – so much for being incognito.

He willed the waves of water to bring him down, closer to Devon, but out of reach of the spiky shards. He held out his hand to his weather-learned friend, a guilty look on . ”Come on! You won’t do any good dead,” Jorge announced. He knew Devon was trying to help and, from what he could gather, it seemed that he worked with mutants before. While that was admirable, and Jorge was willing to take all the help he could get, being a sitting duck on the ground wasn’t going to help this situation at all.

Tempest had worried his first shout to the new mutant had been easily drowned out by the earth quaking. He’d dashed away through the bushes to save the two kids he’d seen. Rushing back, he’d been greeted with more earthen screaming faces, claw-fingered hands, a still screaming new mutant, and a giant earthen bubble that erupted into water.

Devon was too busy shouting for the kid to breathe, try to make him think of Sanctuary if he even knew of it to be outwardly concerned with the geyser break. Internally, the idea of a mud puddle, earthen shaped chaotic terrakinetic battle was terrifying. Anyone could sink into the sank or drown. The beach was right there; he could see the waves crashing. Who knew how stable the ground was that pipes could be bursting?

Oh wait. Nevermind. No worries.

Looks like Jorge surfs too. The water bender snaked it too his side and pummeled the stone in seconds to make a break away for some trapped people.

Ohhh, well Tempest did have a habit of meeting mutant law enforcement didn’t he? This was good… (Real good and interesting actually in a fun kind of- But he didn’t have time to think about that cause holy crap he was jumping as the ground split near him.) At least this meant someone was doing this that wasn’t the screaming kid and somehow could control anything flood-worthy.

“Breathe, please breathe. Focus on my voice,” he shouted but Tempest’s words had fallen on deaf ears. He was certain the boy couldn’t hear him over everything else, let alone the kid could scream. Devon was worried there was some other pain in the kid’s life now amplified by whatever he was seeing or feeling. Moments of extreme emotion or stress did often prove the moment mutant powers came out.

While Tempest was ready to dodge again, Jorge didn’t know that and Tempest didn’t really think about letting the dedicated detective know. It was hard to anticipate suddenly sharp spires racing out of the ground anyway and increasingly there were only a couple of targets on the ground- Wait, that was an idea.

But the ground was bursting again, both from Jorge but also the new mutant. Another wall of water whipped itself into a sea serpent that brought his new friend to his side. That was impressive and masterfully done as-

>> ”Come on! You won’t do any good dead,”

There was no way Devon wasn’t going to take that hand. Jorge had quite a point anyway and it seemed maybe he’d had the same idea Devon had had. He considered his experience with Cafas, Linley, and even knowledge of Cold Steel. You listened to the cop or you made everyone angry. Yeah, that was a good call.

Tempest’s hand grasped at Jorge’s forearm as he jumped into the wave. “I think he can only sense what’s in contact with the ground!” he shouted. “If you or I can separate him from it,” he pointed toward the increasingly dangerous looking cage and obstacle course the mutant had erected around him. “I think it might give him a moment’s pause if not stop his ability from working.”

There were the clawed fingers, the faces, spikes, huge gaps in the earth, rocky projectiles firing into the air, shaking stalagmites, and more before them but Tempest was not deterred. It didn’t seem like anyone else was stupid enough to stick around. They’d gotten the few kids nearby out at least.

A spray of razor sharp stone spires erupted from the skate park. While Devon was comfortable in the water, he wasn’t completely trusting his positioning to Jorge. He was staying vigilant even if his job was only to dodge and deflect. In this case, deflection was in order.

A quick cutting, wafting motion from Tempest’s hand sent a whistling gust through the air. The stony razors flew at nearly a 90’ angle away from them, thunking into the remains of an upturned tree. Tempest inhaled deeply as he rolled his hands and waved his arms in a circular motion. Swirling winds buffeted the waves but rolled outward. “I’ve got the wind wall, let’s get in there and him up!”