Astrid had a new housing situation. A real housing situation, really. Ever since Ragnarok had disbanded, she’d been without a place to live, so she’d answered an ad about a communal housing deal. She just hadn’t realised how communal it would be.

Roommates were the worst. They took up space and made everything smell weird, and brought in stuff, and cooked food that she wasn’t supposed to eat. There was always noise, and she wasn’t allowed to just kill them to shut them up. The worst part was, those were just the roommates that didn’t talk to her.

The worst person of all was Gina. She was cheery and happy and wanted to make Astrid be her friend. Her friend. Ew.

Sure, it was certainly better than being homeless, or that year that she’d spent hotel jumping, but it still wasn’t great. Now, she had to worry about being kicked out because of her behaviour and warding off a gargoyle without murdering her. It was exhausting.

She slumped on one of the couches, tired after a long day of holding up a convenience store. There really was no rest for the wicked. Mindlessly, she clicked the television remote, flipping through channels randomly. She stayed like that for a few minutes until she heard the door creak open.

With a guttural sigh, she stood up. That meant that either Jayden or Gina was back, and she wouldn’t want to stay there to have to talk to them. She stood up, brushed off her skirt, and lifted her foot to make her way into her room.

Only… it wasn’t Jayden OR Gina. It was someone else.

Someone she already knew.

”JUDE?!”

Ambrose Jaager wasn't huge, but his dumb feet were.

Jude's feet slid around in his pilfered Norvegese from A. Testoni that were just a half-size too big. He wasn't about to leave them behind and he wasn't about to afford any more of his own. Pretty much ever. Plus, who cared about being good now that he wasn't good enough for the Mansion?

He balanced a duffle bag in the crook of his arm and hoisted a box of who-even-knew-what infront of him. This was his life. It packed up into just this.

It was back to square 1. Well, square 1 and some flipping sweet shoes.

Step 1, get a job. Done. It wasn't a permanent position, he was sure, but it'd do.

Step 2, was move out from under his "parents" wings and this was not a bad arrangement. WiFi, a cleaning service, occasional potlucks, and an unending supply of coffee, tea and toilet paper? Jude had applied and been surprised to have gotten in.

Step 3...?

Step 4, profit!

He just had to figure out that pesky 3rd step.

He was fumbling with his box pressed between his hip and the wall as he fumbled his shiny new room key when he heard it.

> "JUDE!?"

Said like it was meant to be said. He startled and let the box fall with a crunch.

"Astrid?" They let murderhobos in here!? "What- you- huh." He put just a little less stock in the strictness of their application vetting process.

Jude swapped to French. <I didn't know you lived here. It's been a long time. You look—> Well, technically he'd seen her at the implosion of that weird rich people chaos kink cult, but he hadn't been wearing his face. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been in a rough spot and he hadn't been the kindest. Now, having gone through his own homeless spat, he was a lot more sympathetic. <You look different. Good, I mean. How are you?>

It never hurt to be polite. At first.

Once the initial shock of seeing the French boy wore off, Astrid could really process what was happening. All in all, she probably knew about seven people in the city that she was on speaking terms with. Sure, plenty of people had seen her in passing, and a few knew of her work, but there were very few people that she would be surprised to run into in other contexts. Jude was one of those few people. 

They had met many months ago when she'd pretended to read his fortune. It had been an obvious scam, and, looking back on it, Astrid could even realise how stupid it looked. For some reason, though, Jude had sat down and participated. If she was remembering correctly, he had even given her coupons as payment.

The strangest part was not her ploy to try to earn some cash, though. The strangest part had been that he had protected her - let her go free when she could have been arrested and sent to jail. That ordeal with him had been one of the first times that she'd successfully evaded the police, and it was not the last time that she'd had help. She just hadn't been expecting it from him.

Astrid had a strictly negative outlook on most people. That was just how she operated. Jude, though... Jude was difficult to peg. Sure, he had been annoying, but she could also speak in her native language around him, and he had saved her from the cops. Probably at some personal cost. That meant that he fell in some sort of murky grey area that Astrid did not often explore.

She regarded him with a confused glare. There was a little bit of contempt mixed in with her inevitable excitement. She just hoped that he wouldn't notice either one.

<You hesitated,> she pointed out coolly. She knew that she looked different, but she didn't need him to point that out to her. She had more ready access to bathrooms and soap, so she was a lot cleaner than she was nearly a year ago. She had also toned down the all black dress ever so slightly.

<You look different too,> she continued. More grizzled, maybe. He looked like he had been through some things since they'd seen each other last. He was also dressed a little better (not that she could really judge). <What are you doing here?>

Had he hesitated?

<Well, I had to look at you, didn't I?> The brattiness just came naturally when Astrid was around. He embraced it with a smirk once he realized that she already looked irritated at him.

<Yeees. Let the irritation flow through you. It only makes me stronger.> He realized only after he'd said it that there was a possibility that she had never seen Star Wars, English or French. That made him sad, not only because he now looked weird and dumb, but because everyone should suffer as he had suffered.

> <What are you doing here?>

<I'm here to rob you, clearly.> He turned back to his door with his key. Now that the box wasn't in the way, he didn't have any trouble with the door.

Opening that door was like cracking the plastic on a fresh bag of cereal. The air smelled wrong and slightly sweet, but he still wanted it.

<I live here now.> He kicked the box in past the threshold and it tipped onto its side spilling various odds and ends including a poster that unrolled itself to reveal none other than Isabel Duskmoore in full battle bikini.

Jude dropped his duffle bag inside with a little more care. <And now I'm moved in. What are you up to these days?>

<You're dumb,> Astrid told him, crossing her arms over her chest. Yes, she was the picture of maturity. But, in all fairness, she was a little lost with what he was saying, and she didn't spend a whole lot of time with people her own age anymore. Or a whole lot of time speaking in her own language. Her insults and comebacks had deteriorated over her time in America.

She narrowed her eyes at him as he entered what was now her home. He seemed sneaky, but he also seemed like he owned the place. It was a strange combination of confidence and nervousness. But, he had a key, so she couldn't really stop him.

<You're living here?!?> Astrid repeated his words back to him, but with a different kind of inflection. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Jude, the X-Man was living with her? It was too strange. Wasn't he supposed to be off frolicking in the woods somewhere with his happy little X-Men family?

As she began to process things after the initial shock, mixed feelings set in. On one hand, he was irritating and good and everything that made her want to puke, but on the other... he was French, and he was a cute older boy. She was still working out her feelings on the latter half of that one. Did she even like boys? Who knew! Not her! Feelings were confusing for the young teen. Her frustration manifested itself as an angry huff. 

While all that was going on in her head, Jude had kicked over his box of belongings. Out had rolled a poster of none other than the magnificent Isabel Duskmoor. Astrid grabbed it greedily. <Is this...? Do you...? Is she...?>

A momentary pause was taken for an extremely deep breath.

<Do you know Isabel Duskmoor?>

Why yes, he was living here. And totally moved in. He was about to close up his totally moved in space when Astrid pushed her way past.

<By all means, let yourself in.> Well, at least he knew she wasn't a vampire. Astrid also made herself right at home by grabbing up his poster and sputtering. The poor girl completely lost her composure. It was kinda cute, actually.

Jude leaned in against the doorframe of his own room trying to decide if Astrid needed the Heimlich or something. Eventually she did breathe.

It appeared that Astrid had an even bigger crush on Isabel than he did.

He hated to let her down. He'd seen her in all her starry-eyed glory at that chaos kink cult. <I don't know her, no.> His smirk was ever present. <These posters are mass produced. We could probably go find you one too, if you want. Actually, I think there's an entire calendar. Might be out of print.> He hadn't tried too hard to get one, but he did know a guy.

<I'll ask around.> Jude had no plans to see uncle Simon, but it was possible the guy might have more odd jobs for him which would only increase his income. If he could swing another poster for this poor creature, then he would. Jude was thoughtful like that.

He cleared his throat. <You can, uh, put the poster down now.> Was she going to make a thing out of this?

Astrid looked back at Jude with wide black eyes. She wasn’t ashamed of her love for her idol; that much was obvious, but she didn’t expect that someone would actually support her with it. It was a strange feeling. Usually, people were either pointing at her to be taken down or pointing at someone for her to take down.

<You will?> she asked cautiously. Her voice sounded as though she really didn’t believe him, because, well, she didn’t. Then again, he hadn’t given her any reason to believe that he was lying to her. He’d only told her the truth the first time they’d met.

>><You can, uh, put the poster down now.>

Begrudgingly, Astrid laid the poster back down on top of the rest of his things. He packed almost as lightly as she did. She was sad to see the poster go, but she was filled with hope by the prospect of having an entire calendar of pictures of Isabel. Totally not creepy, right?

She tore her eyes away from the image and turned them back on her fellow Frenchman with a raised eyebrow. <So what are you doing here? I thought you were an X-Man or something? Shouldn’t you be at the Mansion?”

Yes, she knew all about the mansion. After that woman had visited her at the Ragnarok basement, Astrid had begun to do her research. If Jude was a ‘good guy’ who worked with the X's, then by all accounts, he should have been living at the mansion. Or near it. Not in some random group house.

Was it worth telling Astrid that his Ghost was friends with Isabel? Probably not. It'd be far better to see the look on her face when Jude found a way to make the retired murdress show up in person. Or forward her a selfie, assuming Isabel would allow one. Maybe even if she wouldn't. Already he was formulating a plan that involved Ghost's phone.

In her voice, Jude heard something that he'd been feeling a lot lately. She'd been let down before so she didn't believe him. She wanted to. But she didn't. Well, he'd been let down too. He would bend over backwards to make that not so anymore.

He smirked at her treatment of his poster and continued to smirk even as she asked the one question that made him feel like walking over broken glass.

His eyes lost their humor even if he was able to keep up a facade.

<Oh they don't want me anymore.> He made it sound like a great joke, like something he was amused by. <I let a certain winged girl go and then your fortune came true. I went on a journey. Told them it wasn't worth it anymore and here I am.> He raised one shoulder and shoved off of his door jamb.

<So how does a hobo afford this place?>

Astrid was terrible at reading people, but luckily for her, Jude was making his feelings as plain as day. Sure, he was trying to see happy and humorous, but that clearly wasn't the case as she looked into his eyes. The two mutants obviously shared a lot more than just a language.

The teen knew a thing or two about being unwanted. She'd been abandoned by her parents as a baby and then sent to live in a place that didn't want her either. Even in America, her own personal promised land, she was still unwanted, faction-less, and guardian-less. There were never two people more alone in the world.

<You're better off,> Astrid said haughtily rather than delving into actual feelings. In truth, she didn't really believe her own words. As much as the X-Men were horrible, Jude had had somewhere to belong; somewhere to call home, and he had chosen to throw it all away. It seemed like a bit of a waste. Nevertheless, Astrid persisted.

She flipped her tangled hair and continued, <Now you don't have to be so lame. Have you ever tried not being a wet blanket all the time? It's pretty great.>

He asked how she could afford to live there, which made her smile. <That's the thing about crime: it really does pay.> Sure, she had just about blown through all the money that she'd earned with Roach, but now she knew how to really rob a bank. She could make more.

<What about you? How does a superhero runaway afford it?>

If he hugged her, he was pretty sure he'd be dead. That did stop Jude from wanting to wrap the frail little wanna-be-monster up in a monster hug. She not only skated past an awkward moment, but she'd asserted that he was already better off for having done what he did. No one had said that yet because he'd mostly only talked to Ghost and Cafas, who disapproved, or people who didn't know him before.

Astrid occupied a weird place for Jude. He could argue that she was the impetus for his leaving. He'd made his choice when he let her go...

He snerked at the idea of being a wet blanket. <Yeah. I haven't been at the Mansion for half a year already. And even then... I dunno. I was just trying to fit the mold.> He'd run an illicit poker ring, not the mention the hobo he'd harbored in his room for years. No, Jude never did actually fit the X-man motif.

<Once you know the rules,> he grinned, <you know how best to bend them right up to the breaking point.>

> <What about you..?>

<I did some off the books work, but that's all dried up for now.> It amused him greatly that they'd interacted during the span of that work, but it didn't really gain him anything to expose that so he didn't.

<Now I work as a clerk for some really scary security people. I load their guns and file their papers.> And copy their mutations. He hadn't figured out what all of them did yet. They were subtle, but obviously combat useful considering they all worked security.

Actually... that reminded him. <You know I'm not a healer, right?> That'd just been the power he'd had at the time they last met. <C'mon. I'll show you.> Jude grabbed for Astrid's hand and went for the patio access. Maybe it was time to go for a fly.

The two French teens were clearly cut from the same cloth. Jude had run away from his life at the mansion, and Astrid had run from hers… well… everywhere. She hadn’t even bothered to stay with Ragnarok once it had become clear that it was a sinking ship. They were both alone, two people simply waiting for life to do something else with them.

Astrid couldn’t help but agree with his sentiment. Once you knew the rules, the easier it was to keep pushing at them, to want to find out exactly how far you could bend them before they snapped entirely.

Off the books work. Astrid didn’t know exactly that entailed, but it didn’t sound exactly legal. She was somewhat impressed. Jude really wasn’t the perfect little X-Man that she thought he was when they first met.

Security sounded far less interesting, but at least it didn’t sound completely lame. He still had promise.

>> <You know I'm not a healer, right? C'mon. I'll show you.>

<What?> Astrid questioned as she was pulled along by her arm. She didn’t stop him, but she was also a little worried. What did he mean by saying that he wasn’t a healer? Of course he was a healer! He had healed her!

Without really understanding much of anything, Astrid followed Jude and waited for something to happen.

As much as her confusion amused him, Jude pulled Astrid around so that they were facing each other once they had made it to the patio. This was important to him.

<This is my secret. I really don't advertise because... I just don't, okay? So this is kind of a trust thing.> Jude started pulling off his shirt. No, he wasn't showing off. There wasn't a heck of a lot there to show anyway besides a rather terrible farmer's tan.

Should he trust her? Probably not. But it wasn't like it was the most secret secret ever. And living close together so close, his floormates were bound to find out sooner or later anyway. He had control, but he slept like the dead sometimes.

<High five.> Yes. He was serious. Jude even held up his hand expectantly. He didn't have to touch, but this was the best way to guarantee the exact transfer of power he wanted with so many mutants in proximity.

Once he got his high five, Jude doubled over while the stalks of bone shot out his back and like fast-motion video sprouted feathers on feathers on feathers of black. It never felt good to sprout wings. He had a feeling that was going to happen a lot here, though. Part of this exercise today would be just that: he expected to have to develop his shoulders and back muscles again if he would be attempting flight more often.

By the time he had it managed enough to look back up at her, his eyes were solid black.

<I copy powers. That day I had healing on to try to make those *ssh*ts like me better.>

It didn't work, clearly.

Jude straightened and stretched. <Been awhile since I tried wings. Give me a primer? How's the take off?>

When Astrid blushed, she really blushed. There was no way to hide the fact that all the blood had just risen to the surface of her face when her skin was the colour and consistency of printer paper. No, her skin was a deep red shade and there would be no mistaking it.

It was because, well, a boy had just taken off his shirt in front of her. Sure, Astrid wasn't exactly an average fifteen-year-old, rifling through magazines and obsessing over the boys in her grade, but she was still a girl with hormones and eyes, which made everything so confusing. She didn't really like Jude, at least, she didn't think she liked him that way. Or anyone, for that matter.

Still, she was not equipped to deal with what was happening. She raised her hand awkwardly above her head, still blushing profusely. What was going to happen with a high five and cable-level nudity?

Astrid yelped and jumped back in a manner that was completely uncharacteristic to the teen, her eyes bulging. His back was no longer just a flat, skinny teenage boy's back; instead, it had begun to sprout what looked to be the beginning of wings. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were the same shade of black as hers.

<T-the takeoff?> she stammered, her eyes darting back and forth confusedly (not that the movement could be easily discerned). <I... don't know? Good, I guess? I don't have anything to compare it to.>

The only flying that Astrid had ever done had been her own. Other flying mutants didn't tend to pick on her, and she would never be allowed on a plane. 

She narrowed her eyes to slits and examined him curiously. <So you can copy any power? Do they go away? Can you just use them after you have them? Are we going to go flying?>

She was turning colors. It took Jude longer than was pretty to realize that she was turning colors because of him.

Ah. Little Astrid was pure and innocent after all. Her embarrassment made him chuckle. It was... cute. If she weren't just so incredibly young, he might have tried to embarrass her further. And also, she was a little like a younger sister, somehow. They were from near enough villages, both unwanted, both here now. They liked some of the same things sometimes, Isabel for one. They still managed to be vastly different people.

He did have to tease her.

<What? You've never seen a man with his shirt off before?> He puffed out his chest and flared his wings, an echo of her own. Already he could feel their weight and the strain it was putting on his back.

<I want to fly, but it's been years, Astrid. You'd have to teach me. I can also tell I won't be able to go far. How does your back not constantly hurt with these things?> Jude rolled his shoulders. <And, yeah. I can make 'em go away. I could make yours go away, I think. But I'd rather not.> It freaking hurt.

Awkwardly, Astrid chuckled at his mention of her never having seen a 'man' without a shirt on. No, that wasn't the case at all. Actually, she'd seen a man naked before. She really hadn't wanted to see him naked, but it had happened. Somehow, though, this was worse. It made her feel worse.

<You aren't a man. You're a scrawny teenager at best,> she rolled her eyes, playing off her embarrassment as a jab at him. God, it felt good to be talking in French again. There were only so many sarcastic comments she could make in English.

In some respects, she saw Jude like a brother. He was older, somewhat more in tune with his emotions, and he had a better handle on life than her. Not only that, but they had a lot in common; they were from similar areas and had been abandoned by people that were supposed to have been there for them. Life had dropped them both at the bottom of the heap, and there they were, making the best of it.

Astrid couldn't seem to stop looking at the wings that had begun to sprout. It was so weird. In a way, it was like looking at her own. They were the same colour, shape, and size. They were just on Jude. She'd only ever seen her own wings in the mirror, at weird angles, and in pictures. It was weird seeing them displayed like that. Carefully, she reached out and stroked the fresh feathers.

<Can they turn to crystal too?> she inquired, putting off his request for a moment.

He could make her wings go away. That was a weird thought if there ever was one. She frowned and shot him a look, not wanting to have to imagine that. Her wings were her. If she ever lost them, then she didn't know what she would do.

She beat her wings once behind her, gaining a bit of momentum. <Just, uh, do that for a bit, I guess? I don't know, I never really thought about it.>

Astrid continued to move her wings in the same fashion until she was hovering above the balcony. While she waited for Jude, she moved away from the ledge so that she was above the street. As always, it felt better to be in the air than on the ground.