Exquisite. That was the first word that came into Matthew's mind as his eyes were met with the green and lively park. The wind was blowing swiftly, whistling as it hit the green leaves and wrestled the wooden branches; the animals were joyfully running, rolling, flying, or even falling in the presence of their owners, as if they had no care in the world; and every single individual there had suddenly become illuminated with a radiance that the mutant had yet to witness in the human condition. It was as if the park itself had become an entity grander than life, its guardianship of those within it contrasting the death and the somber nature of the contemporary, polluting, world. As he stood at one of the park's many entrances, a smile came upon his features, making certain to take a visual and semantic note of what lay before him- perhaps to be integrated in one of his eventual writings about the world as he perceived it to be.

He had not been prepared for such a warm and sunny weather, as he had taken his leather jacket. The apparel item that soon became cumbersome, prompting the young adult to take it off and rest it upon his contracted left arm. As he took his first steps in the park, he noticed more and more aspects that had yet to be explored by his curiosity. The stone steps had been placed there manually, and the path had been enormous, both in width and it length. Despite that, it did not restrict the wild life whatsoever, which seemed to flourish evermore. The birds were playing the song of life, and the rest of the animals had decided to join in the dance, completing yet another tranquil picture.

It had been just a few minutes before Matthew had walked off the path, and, as others seemed to do, walked around on the grass, ocularly inspecting every nook and cranny that he could inspect without seeming too intrusive or conspicuous. Nature was beautiful, and he was glad to have been able to experience it as truly and as immensely as he did in those very moments. Moments which were cut short, as he heard the screams of a young woman, pleading for someone to help her.

His body twisted before allowing him to turn completely, his black boots pressing sternly against the grass as his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, looking at the woman that had pleaded for help. She was looking around, screaming for help, saying that someone had stolen her bag and that he was running away. The mutant's reaction was almost instantaneous, and he could see that others had reacted in the same way he had, looking around for the one that had started running away. Shortly, his eyes lay upon a slim male, wearing a brown puffy coat, running away on the informal path between the trees.

It seemed as if, to protect others, all worries and concerns had evaporated from Matthew's mind, which was usually filled with doubts, worries, and second-guesses. If he could have seen himself at that point, he would have claimed to have been reckless. Notwithstanding that, his right arm extended and tensed, his palm open towards the running perpetrator. His mind focused and focused, almost bringing pain to the novice mutant, but nothing was happening. Realising that, due to not using his powers, or other factors unknown to him, he was unable to use his powers upon the individual, Matthew stopped attempting to use his special abilities to catch the thief, and instead started using his mundane skill- running.

The other had been foolish if they believed that they could escape someone that, not until long ago, had been raised to enter the military upon finishing high school. Needless to say, in less than a minute, Matthew had almost caught up to him. However, a mistake had caused him to trip and roll, looking at the victim in front of him increasing the distance between them once more. As to prevent him from escaping, a reflex kicked in. His arm extended, his muscles tensed, his mind focused. Through a lot of luck, and intense concentration, Matthew's telekinetic abilities allowed him to hold onto the foot of the mischievous individual mid-sprint, causing him to fall onto the ground and let go of the bag. Whilst he wanted to go up and run away, he was unable to for one second, which was enough for other males to surround him. At this point, Matthew allowed his telekinetic hold over the individual to break, gasping and breathing heavily as he looked down at the ground.

Everything had happened so quickly, and he had so many questions. Why could he use his abilities then, but not before? Why was he in so much pain by using his abilities, were they a curse? Had anyone seen him? Had anyone been aware of his abilities? These questions flooded his temporary being as his gaze remained fixed upon the grass, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to regain his composure. He was not good with people, and he suspected that many more would surround them shortly due to the event that had transpired.

They sometimes got these odd spring days in the middle of winter. Not that Leo was complaining. The day was an oasis, something different and welcome. Unlike real spring when people would know they had plenty of mild days to enjoy ahead, people were lured en masse into poking their heads out of hibernation and seeking that sweet siren song of the sun.

It made a perfect excuse to go out and try his hand at finding some original content.

He packed his tactical bag carefully, fully aware of the dangers he faced. Running was just about guaranteed so everything had to be secured. He brought cash and his bus pass, but no ID. And, even though it pained him, he left his phone in his room. Ever since he'd been detained for protesting in Australia without his Mama knowing, the woman had kept a closer eye on him via family location tracking. She was getting scary good at this technology stuff.

Central Park seemed the most logical location to start so he rode the bus there and then hailed a group of men with tree trimming equipment. With a jumble of English, Spanish, and— was that Lebanese?— he was able to ask what parts of the park had any anything interesting going on.

From what he could tell, Leo had options. In the open field area there seemed to be a group of old people practicing Tai Chi or Yoga or whatever old people practiced these days. And a bug mutant in the woods past the Alice statue. A couple odd groups on the footpaths, one of which was doing something with foam swords.

Oh. So tempting to go join the LARPers. But Leo had a duty as an AX-man and a resident of New York. Not everyone was lucky enough to have such a dense population of mutants.

Half an hour later, from the depths of a hedge, Leo's SLR shutter clicked and he pulled the film advance lever automatically. Digital was nice, but mutants affected all kinds of things in odd ways.

A wasp landed on his viewfinder as Leo adjusted the lense to get a better shot of what looked like insect wings on a chick. There was an X-chick who'd had wings once, right? Or was it armor? Or eyes? There were some serious theories about what her actual power was. Leo jotted down a note in his field journal, and casually flicked the wasp off of his viewfinder.

The next time Leo brought the camera up to bear, the girl was looking right at him.

Casually, oh so casually, Leo slipped backwards out of his hiding spot. His brown coat snagged on a branch so Leo slipped his camera into his bag and yanked backwards to free that last little bit. That put him quite suddenly in the path of a querulous woman. They rebounded off of one another and Leo had to dive to catch his bag from hitting the ground.

"Is that my purse?"

"Purse? No. It's a tactical bag." Leo plucked at the canvas of his man-purse and noticed he'd bumped her bag around to sit behind her. They were similar in color and shape, but he was clearly—

"STEALING!" She grabbed for him and Leo scrambled back and up to his feet.

"Wha-?" It did. not. compute.

"HELP! POLICE! THIEF!"

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. He panicked and bolted. He shouldn't have, but she was a nice looking lady and Leo was brown and already probably acting suspicious. He was also running away because CRAZY. The lady would realize her mistake soon enough and be embarrassed and they could all laugh about it from a SAFE DISTANCE AWAY FROM EACH OTHER.

And then his foot caught on nothing.

He was quite sure there had been nothing there. It almost felt like something grabbed him, but he didn't have time to process.

Having only a tenuous hold on his bag to begin with, when Leo face planted into the cobblestones the tactical bag went bouncing ahead of him, contents spilling. His nose hit first and Leo shouted out his anguish and he rolled over, ready to defend himself with slaps or words or something.

—But nobody was there. There was a guy not too far away on the ground who looked like he'd been sucker punched and far back toward the way they came the woman was still trotting up to the scene.

"Dib someboby invibible just run througb here!?" Aug! Leo tasted blood and dabbed gently at his nose.

"Did he hurt you, sir?" She shouted ahead, slowly and steadily catching up. "I'm calling 911."

Moments of heavy breathing ensued, culminating with the final large intake of air, which allowed the novice mutant to once more reach his neutral, active state. At least he was not bleeding from his nose, or any other potential side effects that he had previously experienced. As his palms felt the ground beneath him, his eyes fixated upon it, he heard the other woman yell in his direction, asking if he had been hurt and telling him that she was going to call for authorities.

"I'm alright. I just tripped." He called out, pushing himself off the ground and looking at the woman behind him. A soft smile and a dismissive wave of the hand was given- in the usual awkward fashion that Matthew seemed to be inadvertently drawn to. A byproduct of being unable to socialise with others on his own terms, definitely, but at least it had not been something that he could not change with enough practice and fervour.

As the victim approached her saviour, her black bag bounced off her back with each and every step, causing it to come into view. This not only allowed Matthew the chance to see it in the span of three or four bounces, but it also allowed him to observe some minimal detail regarding the bag. Remembering that he had a criminal to catch, his head and body turned back towards the thief, which had previously claimed that someone invisible had gone through the park- a comment that was dismissed by Matthew for its inability to be proven or disproven. While it was obvious that he was aware that something was not particularly right regarding the situation, he did not suspect Matthew- at least yet- which granted the young university student the chance to punish the criminal without being discovered as a mutant.

Further ocular exploration unveiled that the man before him was bleeding, a minor detail that only became apparent as a small amount of blood dangled from his nose onto what appeared to be his upper lip. The distance was too great between the two of them for Matthew to discern everything clearly, so chances were that he was wrong as to the factual nature of the minuscule detail. Regardless, he was not about to stand there and wait for the despicable member of society to escape, rushing towards him once more. His running form was alike any other trained soldier's, his body lowered, angled forward, head looking at his target, and arms open relatively wide as to be able to combat any attackers on his path. The strenuous training that he had been put through had been worth it, despite not actually being trained to the extent that his father would have intended him to be. Many flaws were, and would always be, present. He was not a soldier- he was a writer.

"Don't even try running!" He shouted, pointing one of his arms towards the thief, the proximity between the two of them increasing with each passing second. If the other would not start running shortly, Matthew would attempt to tackle him onto the ground and make sure that he remained there until the authorities arrived. It did not seem like any of the other individuals in the park were active participants in stopping the crime, deciding to be passive and only help if it benefitted them or if they had no other choice. Why would they not help? Was she not innocent? Where was the sense of justice and kinship that he had read about?

Running had been the exact wrong thing to do.

Leo’s hands and arms went up in the air. Not in surrender, but in an expression of sheer incredulity. This was a serious misunderstanding all based on the fact that he’d dare to share a bag color with a Can I speak with your manager? type.

“Police?” The word squeaked out as if he hadn’t already experienced his fair share of puberty. Leo got up even though his throbbing face told him he should probably keep down.

His Mama was gonna kill him dead.

And Mr. Sucker Punched was apparently a hero in his own mind. Standing up was so threatening that Leo apparently deserved… well it didn’t matter what that guy thought Leo deserved because Leo was not planning to take it.

“¡Para! She’s freaking crazy, dude!”

He didn’t have time to grab his bag. He left it all. While he’d been just trying to get away from something potentially awkward before, now he was running away to keep from getting arrested for no reason.

He’d done the whole ‘righteous anger for unfair incarceration’ thing before. No. Seriously. He had. And it sucked. It sucked when no one listened to you. It sucked when you were subverted. It sucked to be wrongfully incarcerated, stereotyped, and descriminated against. And it sucked to try to free those who were on the wrong side of the bars.

"Stop running!" The woman complained, still not even caught up to Leo's bag.

As he started making his way towards the teenager at a rapid pace, the male mutant noticed that his hands had gone up in the air. Was he prepared to surrender himself? Why would he, if he truly were guilty? Would he not want to escape? Regardless of the questions that the action itself implied, Matthew proceeded to close the distance between the two, seeking to be the woman's guardian- even if, unbeknownst to him, there was no need for one.

The need to surrender oneself did not seem to take, as the thief exclaimed that the woman was crazy prior to running away from Matthew. The scene had a certain comedic effect; Matthew running after the speedy teenager once more. It seemed that, if things would not change soon, they would be caught in a perpetual loop of pursuit. Despite Matthew's relatively strenuous training, his current target was just as fast, probably due to his physiological structure, and being accustomed to attempting to escape authority? He did not know, nor did he care at that point.

As they were running, the woman exclaimed for the thief to stop running. Matthew was not a sarcastic or ironic individual, but he couldn't help and think "As if that is going to make him stop." Seriously, it was the second time that he was running, after falling, and the woman thought that asking nicely was going to make him stop? The action was so pointless that it made Matthew chuckle under his breath.

The running suddenly stopped on Matthew's behalf as he noticed the black bag, and the contents that seemed to have blurted out of it. His left eyebrow rose as his right eyebrow lowered slightly, looking at the items on the ground with slightly narrowed eyes before twisting his head to look at the woman. Her bag was almost identical, but she had possession of it, and the thief seemed to be confused, if not innocent as to what he had been accused of- an aspect that retrospectively became rather evident. His head twisted to look at the still running teenager, then at the bag, then back at the woman. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

"Stop! You didn't steal anything." Matthew shouted out, albeit in a neutral manner, towards the human rendition of the road runner, his body turning to face him. His face showed how unimpressed he truly was with the entirety of the situation, lips pushed together ever so slightly. Even if he were wrong, it wouldn't have mattered as the contents of the bag, and the bag itself, were on the grass next to him. The wrongdoing had been corrected, and, if he truly were a criminal, he would be have been caught again regardless. New York City was a large place, but criminals would always pay for their misdeeds.

"What are you talking about?" The woman seemed to screech at Matthew, which shook him ever so slightly, as she walked closer. To that, he simply motioned with his hand at her own body, as to show her that a bag, of a similar nature, was in her possession. Sure, he may have been wrong, but it no longer mattered. He was exhausted, people were staring at the situation and making him feel more awkward than usually so, and the woman did not seem to want to stop shattering everyone else's eardrums. It was the least he could do, for the parties involved, and for the sanctity of the park itself.

Leo took a chance and popped off the path and back into the underbrush. He stopped abruptly behind a tree and slapped his hand over his mouth to quash that burning need to breathe loudly. Trees were brown. His jacket was brown. He was rather tan. He was trusting that was enough camouflage to keep him out of harm's way without making him run much more. His legs were warm with the familiar ache of exertion. He could run more, easy, if only he could manage to catch his breath.

Mr. Sucker punch called out to Leo. No doubt an attempt to lure him back out to the open. Meanwhile Ms. Can I talk to your Manager? had caught up.

"What are you talking about?" was quickly followed by an incredulous, "What is this junk?" She stooped down to pick through the bag, handing a black notebook labeled "field journal" to her savior and picking up the camera. It was then that she noticed her own bag as it slid around her to sit next to the bag on the ground.

"Oh." Clearly embarrassed, the woman bobbled the camera in her hands and the shutter snapped, flustering the woman further. That photo would likely be all black since Leo'd managed to get the lens cap on. "Stalker? Unibomber? Geez. I think we just accidentally stopped a terrorist. I mean why else would he have run, right?"

Leo could hear her mounting her defense now. She was trying to save face and surely had to get her story right before the cops showed up. He tensed. The leaves at his feet meant that if he moved at all, he would be heard. He just had to be still. Wait it out. Right?

"Let's see what's on his camera. You never know what evidence—"

"Noooo!" Leo popped back out of the woods. The film! Most people these days were used to digital. "It's analog—!"

Too late. She'd pushed the back release button which opened the entire back half of the camera. The film, now exposed to the light, turned a milky brown.

Once Matthew returned his gaze towards where he believed the teenager to be, he noticed that he had vanished. The presumed thief had most likely run off, or was hiding somewhere in an attempt to escape justice. It made sense that he would reveal himself at Matthew's request- he was the one that had just chased him for so long. However, something did not appear to be right. If he were guilty, he would not have attempted to surrender, and, yet, if he were innocent, he would not have ran away, prompting the woman to scream, and Matthew to chase him. It had been the very first time that the newly socialised male had been in Central Park, and his experience seemed to change and alter with each passing moment. The outside world truly was peculiar- and he loved it!

The woman had caught up and, as her gaze laid upon the items that were on the ground, she openly regarded them as 'junk', dismissing their potential quality and handing her saviour a small notebook. The label on it read 'field journal', and, in congregation with the fact that she did not seem to be the kind to keep two bags with her, a field journal, or a camera, Matthew was slowly coming to the realisation that they might have judged an innocent civilian- not that he had made their job any easier by running.

Her own bag then slid in front of her, causing her to come to the awkward realisation that this all had been a gross misunderstanding. If not for how exhausted he was, Matthew believed that even in his humble and kind nature, he would have laughed out loud at the situation at hand. It had clearly been a large misunderstanding. She then tried to justify it by calling him a stalker, or even a terrorist. Up to that point, Matthew smiled and nodded with her, his hands still holding onto the journal, but as soon as those words flew from her mouth, his persona became slightly more assertive and cold towards her.

"I highly doubt that, miss. And, it is unfair to judge. He may have run due to many reasons, and we cannot jump to conclusions." The novice mutant expressed his views rather sternly, but he made sure that his kind and nice personality showed through, as he would have rather not been seen as someone that was unnecessarily rude to others. That would have been disrespectful, and Matthew had been raised to be anything but that.

"Let's see what's on his camera. You never know what evidence—" Of course, her response to his logical point of view was to provide evidence by looking at his camera. Matthew would have rather that did not occur, and some words flew out of his mouth in that regard, but it had been too late. She was already intruding upon someone else's private property, without the other person's permission. If Matthew was an angel, the woman was nothing short of a devil.

It seemed that Matthew was not the only one attempting to persuade her not to do so, as the supposed thief, or terrorist- according to the woman- had popped out of whatever hiding spot he had been in, verbally prohibiting the now-irritating woman from intruding. Matthew shifted his gaze, and physical rotation towards the other male, looking at him as he spoke.

He was not sure what the other had said after shouting at her not to look at the camera, but it prompted Matthew's innate curiosity, his fingers slowly opening the small black handbook and brushing through the pages. Within it, there were various notes regarding abilities, as well as a few drawings. Water manipulation theory? Bug control? Flight? Matthew's eyebrows narrowed slightly for a brief moment, in shock, before returning to their original position, brushing through pages at an accelerating pace and reading a few concepts on each of them

The university student's gaze returned to the rather erratic, and apparently misunderstood male. Was he a mutant? Was he like him?

The Scream was an accurate depiction of what Leo felt inside. Impressionistic, aggressive strokes of feeling formed a picture of horror, sheer horror at these people. One roll of film ruined. One notebook compromised.

"I amb not a terrorist or a thiebf, okay!" That should have been a question, but it'd come out with more exasperated force than he'd intended. It was time to shut this down. Now. Leo stopped dabbing at his bloody nose and stomped toward the pair of wannabe do-gooders with his hands up in a placating gesture despite the irritation twisting his face.

Once he came within grabbing distance, Leo pointed at the woman with a bloodied finger.

"You call the cops and you apologise, lady. I'll bet they'll send someone out to check anyway, but you're going to tell them the truth." He then grabbed his camera out of her hands in order to inspect the damage.

The film roll hadn't popped out. It was possible that the portions of film that were not directly exposed would be okay. Or, the photos might suffer from light leaks. At this point it was about more than photos. It was about her assumptions.

She sputtered, finally at a loss for words. Leo snapped the back of the camera into place and advanced the film 3 times. Then he grimaced in anticipation of what might have happened to his long range lense. He was clearly familiar with the equipment. No obvious cracks. Had he actually managed to not break everything?

"And you." Leo grabbed his notebook out of the nosy Mc-Wannabe-Hero's hands. "You best check yo'self before you wreck yo'self. I swear, everybody and their dog has a hero complex in this town." He stuffed the notebook back into his bag and took his sweet time securing the camera into its properly padded spot.

"B-but why'd you run?"

The question of the day, Leo guessed. He stood and put the bag's strap over his head.

"You didn't give me a chance. You went from 0 to screaming, man. Er- lady. Ma'am." He was trying not to be rude despite all that'd happened. While it might feel good in the moment, Leo knew that kind of vindictive behavior was not going to change someone's worldview. This lady was used to being right and used to being heard. Hopefully today would make her stop and think before she said something next time.

"No, I—"

Nope. Leo put his hands up, turned on his heel, and walked away. Nothing she could say would change that. Sermon delivered. Leo out.

It didn't matter exactly where he was going. He just wanted out so that he could find a quiet place to get the nervous energy out from their confrontation.

They were wrong. They were so wrong, and all that they had managed to accomplish had been to persecute an innocent teenager. One which was obviously done with playing the victim, reflected in the scream and the way he approached them, stomping in such a way that Matthew was forced to mentally compare him to a 3 year-old who had just been grounded for something he had not done. The mental image made him smile ever so slightly, but he did not wish to focus on the teenager's mood, choosing to peruse the notebook to a greater extent instead. There were so many concepts, so much information, so much knowledge, that Matthew was at a loss for words. Everything pointed him in two directions. The other male was either a mutant, or a journalist. Or both.

But, as soon as the teenager exclaimed that he was not a terrorist or a thief, Matthew found his attention re-drawn towards him, impressed, but mostly shocked, by the way that he was carrying himself and addressing the lady. Yes, she had wrongfully accused him of something, but that did not really give him any reason to address her in such a way. Or, did it? Once more, Matthew found himself unaware of the social norms and values which were to be followed in said circumstances.

He just stood there, notebook open in his hands, looking at the other teenager create even more of a scene than before, shouting loud enough for half of the park to hear him. All eyes were on them now, which only made Matthew that much more introverted. He was not used to a large amount of people looking at him, nor did he prefer it, and would have done anything to avoid such circumstances. It had been one of the reasons why he remained at the back of the classroom in his college sessions, and why he would never address the teacher during the lessons. The less people he would have to directly, or indirectly, socialise with, the less social pressure there was on him for him to act accordingly. It was difficult, and sometimes it seemed like he would never get better, but sparks of hope would ignite every so often, with an interaction, an event, an uncanny circumstance.

The wrongly persecuted individual seemed to be quite vindictive, acting in a rather brash manner with the lady, before refocusing his attention on his equipment, and then Matthew. He used certain expressions that the novice mutant had never heard before, causing him to reflexively raise his eyebrows, his mouth agape. Words were trying to escape his mouth, but they did not seem to want to in the face of someone who was acting in such a brash, sudden, and aggressive manner. If anything, Matt was just surprised that there was someone else like him out there, someone that was as erratic as he was when socialising.

Then, he explained himself rather succinctly, justifying his actions by stating that he believed he had no choice due to the fact that she had automatically started screaming. Matthew was certainly unimpressed, and found the teenager to be fair, especially after briefly interacting with the woman. His eyes closed for a moment, tilting his head to the side in an approving manner.

As the woman attempted to explain herself, it seemed that the dramatic human specimen had given up on social interactions, putting his hands up, turning, and walking away. That was all? That was the end of such an interesting event, one where Matthew had the chance to meet yet another mutant, and learn from him about his own kind? He did not think so.

"... Sorry." Matthew said in an awkward manner towards the lady, shrugging his shoulders before walking towards the one that was in possession of the black notebook.

"Hey! Hey, wait!" The mutant said as he was walking, choosing to briefly jog towards the other in order to reach him and walk at the same pace, towards the same location, as the teenager. It had been his one tangible chance to learn more about mutants as a whole, from someone that seemed to know a lot of things about them and their abilities. However, he was entirely aware that, after that event, there would have been no reason why the persecuted teenager would have wanted to interact with him, which was why, as soon as he was in close proximity to him, he whispered.

"You're one of them, aren't you? A mutant?" That was it, that was Matthew's greatest card to be played at that time- perhaps his only card. He needed to be able to learn more about mutants, about his own kin, and he would not take no for an answer. Not then, when he was so close he could feel the connection in the palm of his hand.

He was shaky. That's was what adrenaline with no outlet did to him. Leo'd just gotten so riled up he was, even now as he walked away, mentally reviewing what they had each said to one another.

Could he have been calmer? Clearer? Did he say enough? Not enough?

Leo felt as if he could jog for miles before he got tired. Maybe he should just to make sure there was distance between him and them. It was lucky that woman hadn't figured out what Leo had already been doing. She would have assumed the worst, no doubt...

His train of thought was derailed by a voice calling out to him. He turned to look back. It was the man, the hero. The woman was still sputtering at nothing in particular. Hopefully she would clear it all up with the police and no one would get in trouble. Leo didn't want any trouble, not even for her.

Did Leo even want to talk to this guy?

Considering the first thing he blurted out was about mutants? Yeah. He did want to talk.

Leo eyed the young man as they continued to walk instead of answering immediately. He didn't actually seem that much older than Leo. He had assumed the guy was older because of the bulk. By comparison, Leo was at least 50% more puffy jacket. The evidence was piling up— The hero complex. He'd seen Leo's field notes and come to the conclusion that Leo was a mutant. The beefcake build. Plus, there was a little bit of vulnerability that he detected, in the man's voice and face. Like he'd just said a naughty word or something.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that there's no invisible guy, is there?" Or maybe, Leo was just looking right at him.

It seemed that the other was not entirely repulsed by the idea of communicating with Matthew, as several moments passed, laced with the venomous awkward silence, during which the novice mutant looked around aimlessly whilst walking with the teenager- attempting to focus on anything other than the teenager's inspecting gaze. It felt as if he was being examined, analysed... probed.

The feeling was not pleasant, especially for someone which suffered from such intense introvertedness, but if this made the other more comfortable in conversing with the self-appointed hero, then, so be it. The conglomeration within the park seemed to become disinterested with them as soon as the incident had been solved. So many eyes no longer followed his every move, allowing him the freedom of expressing himself in his bubble of comfort; only for him to be socially inhibited by the one in his proximity. Silver linings.

When the other finally chose to talk to Matt, he posed a question, rather than the answer that Matthew expected. It seemed as if he was either evading the topic, or, more likely so, heavily insinuating that Matthew was the mutant, the one which the teenager had addressed as the "invisible guy". The university student was taken aback by the upfront nature of the teenager, stopping from walking, and looking at the other.

Moments passed. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? What would happen to him if the other knew the truth? Panic surged through his bloodstream as if it were a toxin, invading his every cell, his every thought, pushing him into submission with unimaginable magnitude. His eyes closed, inhaling deeply, attempting to push his demons to the unseen crevices of his mind, instead choosing to focus on something else. Anything else.

Images of his mother, giving him books, telling him stories, surged through his mind, helping him cope with the situation at hand. His eyes opened.

"No, there is not." He admitted quietly. The first time that he had openly admitted to someone else that he were a mutant, or, even insinuated as such- and it had been to a loud teenager. The irony was not lost upon him, but he chose to ignore it. Matthew figured he could not have lied, not after how he had lost his composure, as the other wouldn't have believed him anyway, and would have pushed him to the point where he would have had to admit it eventually. Therefore, the process was expedited, saving them both time.

That was not to mean that Matthew trusted the other. The wrong move, and Matthew was prepared to defend himself, and his secret. For a second, he thought that he would have gone to all possible lengths to protect himself, but the cognitive process was quickly buried under other multiple memories of his mother. A connection was starting to become apparent. What was happening to him?

The guy stopped so Leo stopped. He glanced nervously back toward the woman, but she was no longer on the path watching them. A roil of tension unfurled from his chest. In the end, she seemed to have at least one shred of dignity left.

A glance back at the wannabe hero and Leo had to double take. He was seriously struggling. Anger? Fright? Skepticism? Serenity? Whoah. He was going through emotions too fast for Leo to get a good read on him. Unstable? Nah. Leo had seen this a lot at the Mansion, unfortunately.

"You are fresh out the package aren't you?" Leo sighed. This had all gone wrong today and now, here he was screwing up some fresh, delicate, robustly muscled newbie's perceptions of the world. He pinched the bridge of his nose... which actually felt puffy. Crap. Was his nose swelling?

"Okay. Let's back up and try this again. Hi. I'm Leo." He wiped his hand on his pants just in case and offered it to the guy. His grip was firm and sure. Leo knew who he was and what he was about. That came across even in something as simple as a handshake.

"You want to talk powers or do you need a hug or something? I live at the mutant school and you already saw my notebook." He shrugged. That was about as good as it got as far as qualifications went.

A mental review of the moment Leo had tripped was not giving him a whole lot to go off of. His brain had jumped to invisible person. It took a second to unpack that logic jump. He'd thought that someone grabbed his foot. His new pal had been far away... so... Leo gestured upwards in a sort of a-ha!

"Astral projections? You want to know about that, right?" Another guess. Leo grabbed out his little book and flipped through the pages. "It's a hard one to document because, y'know. Mostly invisible." Leo shrugged.

Matthew had become disinterested with anything else that had occurred prior to that event. The woman, the park, the animals and the people, they had become irrelevant. No one could blame him; everything paled in comparison with his greatest demon, his greatest curse. Yes, he believed his mutation to have been a curse. He had been raised to believe that mutants were an abomination, and, even when he had been somewhat pleasantly surprised to find out that he was special, that, perhaps, the ones that had raised him had been wrong all along, he found himself punished for something he had no control over. It had left a scar, both on his body and on his mind.

The more he remained in that very moment, the more his neurotransmitters fired up, the more negative feelings resurfaced in relation to Matthew's abilities and the history attached to them. Matthew had no idea that simply addressing his mutation openly could have this effect upon him, which consisted of the reason he was confused as to how he should have proceeded. Would talking about it further intensify the sheer pain and self-loathing that had crept upon him, or would it cause it to dissipate amongst his very being, causing him to accept it as part of himself?

Upon hearing the other speak, he raised his head, his eyes meeting the teenager. Was he being serious? Something made the university student doubt that the one that he was talking to could ever reach a serious state, remembering the comedic facet of everything he had previously done or said.

"I'm Matthew Hughes. Nice to meet you, Leo." The novice mutant replied in a serious manner, his hand gripping and shaking Leo's as he nodded. Both of their handshakes were firm, showing that, whilst each of them may have had certain peculiar traits, they were still relatively certain as to whom, and what, they were. To that extent, Matthew's grip was less firm than Leo's, still lost somewhere in the midst of his thoughts and emotions.

"I, uh... what?" Matthew had begun replying when the second part of the query took him by surprise. His eyebrows raised as a result of the short-lived confusion instilled upon him. Was this kid incapable of not joking? Regardless, he dismissed the comment and simply answered him.

"I want to talk powers, I suppose." The uncertain words flew out of his mouth. So, Leo lived at the mutant school, and was documenting mutants, or, at least, their abilities. The situation, whilst being extremely interesting, was also extremely uncommon, rendering the mutant even more confused than before. He stepped forward as Leo seemed to take a guess in the dark regarding his abilities, taking out the notebook and flipping through the pages.

"Not really." He spoke quietly, his gaze shifting from the notebook to his new-found informant and informal teacher.

"What I can do is... well..." It had dawned upon him that it was quite hard to explain what his ability was, so he simply chose to show it. Days ago, he would have never done so, but a lot of things seemed to change rather quickly for the literature major, something he could only attribute to luck, or destiny-despite being a rational being which would have otherwise quickly dismissed such concepts.

"Here, allow me." Matthew perused their surroundings for a few moments, making sure that no one was looking at them- even if they were, the proximity between the two would make it easier to lie about what was bound to occur.

The whole world around him had become void. In that very moment, complete focus was an absolute necessity. His right hand raised in front of him, while the bent elbow made sure that the palm, which was facing the sky, was quite close to Matthew's chest, as to not attract attention. The mutant's eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenched, his arm's muscles tightened, attempting to visualise the book flying out of Leo's hands and into his own. It was difficult, considering he had just exerted himself, and that the other was applying opposing force to the object. However, after a few seconds, he had begun to tug at the notebook, lifting it away from Leo's hands and making it slowly float towards him.

Once the book had reached its destination and was floating above his right hand, his pointer gestured slightly- weakly joined by the thumb- causing one of the pages to flip slowly. Matthew smiled weakly, a smile that quickly dissipated due to the increasing difficulty in relation to the use of his abilities.

The pressure was too high. It had become too difficult. Pain was spreading from his arm, to his shoulder, and into his mind, causing him to groan as blood started flowing from his nose. As soon as the blood had flown, the focus had been lost, and the falling notebook was barely caught by Matthew's hand, the other one pressing against his forehead in an attempt to stop the agonising pain.

Had that been a decent example of what he could do? Had he scared the apparent mutant journalist, or had he impressed him?

Whoah. Like serious mutant denial going on in there. His face was a war zone. The best thing Leo could do was distract him with FACTS! That was pretty much all he had to offer since his offer to hug it out was ignored.

This kid— he was definitely older than Leo, but his inexperience made Leo start to think of him as a kid— had it bad. He still used somatic gestures and was still trying to hide those somatic gestures. So that meant he was new and ashamed.

Leo felt a tug on his journal and didn't want to give it up at first, but it wasn't like Matthew hadn't already seen what was inside. He let the book go and it moved across the space between them. The book wasn't big, nor was it heavy, but the strain on Matthew's ace was telling. Everything he did screamed 'NEW!'

"Ahhh. I see." Leo tried to think about how to approach this with a guy who was so, so, so new. He had to be gentle with his words. Careful. "That's called telekinesis. You're moving junk with your brain." Or... he could be himself. That worked sometimes too. "That's not bad, actually. I like the page turn. That means you've got a good handle on it."

And then with the nose bleed.

"Mother Mary, we're going to look like a bunch of perverts." Or perhaps it'd look like they'd been in a fist fight. Either way two bloody-nosed teens lurking about in the park and passing a book back and forth was a bad idea. Leo glanced around again. He didn't exactly have a stack of napkins in his tactical bag. In fact he didn't have anything that was going to staunch any blood flow and he didn't see anything handy either. At least no one seemed to be looking their way.

"Hey. You okay to walk? Let's stop standing around and go find somewhere to sit." Somewhere a little more private so that he could get a grip on himself and Leo could "You probably have questions and I want to be a bro— I mean, I'd like to help you. If you want."

The other told him that what he was doing was called telekinesis. That was not precisely news for the young adult, as the one other mutant that he had conversed with prior to Leo, the one that he had inadvertently opened up to, had also told him of his ability's moniker, but there was not much more information that he could have provided in relation to what Matthew could do; considering Matthew himself was not aware of this ability's name, or of its reaches, prior to his interactions with those within this sphere of society. The teenager even attempted to lie to him, stating that the complexity of his actions meant he had a good handle on his ability. It had obviously not been meant as a lie, but, as Matthew was aware of the limitations and the pain which using his ability brought, he perceived Leo's words as illusory. Whilst the literature major could not reply, or focus on his words, due to the sheer intensity required in order for him to use his ability, he knew that if he were able to, he would have laughed at the other's lack of knowledge. He did not have a good handle on it. This ability, it was his downfall, his greatest curse- a concept that another mutant had gone to great lengths to annihilate.

When the other was surprised at the lack of strength and at the nosebleed, he exclaimed and said that they would look like 'a bunch of perverts'. What would have made them be perceived as such? Matthew was confused as to why a nosebleed could, in any way, be connected to anything sexual or perverted in any way.

"Most likely a socially adequate teenager thing." he thought.. His confusion was evident, lacing every aspect of his facial features for a few moments; his eyebrows pressed together, eyes opened wide. The mutant held onto the book with his right hand, whilst the back of his left hand was pressed against the space between his upper lip and his nose in order to mitigate the blood flow, and protect himself from wandering eyes.

The novice mutant was asked if he was alright to walk, as the teenager wanted to find a place to sit, being completely aware that Matthew had questions. He voiced his desire to help, but, in doing so, he used a young lingo which made Matthew burst into laughter. He could not help it. It was so sudden, and this kid was so young and so different from anything that he had ever experienced before, that some terms that he used were simply hilarious and unexpected.

"Yeah, I'm good to walk," Matthew nodded, the back of his left hand still pressed against his face, before he started walking towards what seemed to be a bench. ", you can be a bro, if you want." The mutant chuckled once more at the peculiar word as the two of them made their way towards the bench.

Despite their differences, something told Matthew that the two would make great friends in the nearby future.