New York, New York.  A much nicer apple to hang around when one's bellies were filled and one didn't have to fluff up every single feather on every single bird just to keep from freezing them off.

Of course, it was colder now, but Crow didn't have to go out until the sun was comfortable and had made the air a bit more pleasant.  Well, he didn't have to go out at all; his current home cared for all such things.  He wasn't that lazy, though, even if his current state of (un)employment might be interpreted that way.  Hey, he was a visible mutant without a whole lot of special skills.  C'est la vie.

Unemployment did leave some nice time for sightseeing, though.  There was no denying that.  Of course, Crow wasn't currently sightseeing, not per se.  He wasn't marvelling at one of NYC's many, many named places.  Or perhaps this was a named place, but it was not one of the Places that tried to draw in all the tourists and newbies.  Some places were quieter...

On second thought, probably not.  He probably wasn't supposed to have climbed that rusty old fire escape, but he thought the old building he happened to be on might have a nice view.  He was right; it wasn't bad.  He might even be able to work out what stretch of the river might be accessible for fishing.  He stretched his wings to bask in the winter sun while he leaned against the ancient railing, and found himself content.

He hated it here in New York. In fact he was pretty sure he hated everywhere at the moment he was an angry teen with a nasty chip on his shoulder. It had been some time since he was moved into his own room in the mansion, told he had shifted into some kind of animal and mauled a few people during a riot. The same incident caused his girlfriend, Liz to be sent home. Something that Carrick still couldn’t really accept. She was afraid of him, she told him that much and said she was going home and that he probably shouldn’t expect a letter or a phone call any time soon.

The mansion was lonely, and the only people he really could talk to about anything was his Mom and Dad. Late night phone calls were the only thing keeping him at the mansion. His dad said it was a right of passage or something along those lines for mutants to have a tipping point where their mutation started to grow out of control before it could be reigned back in. He destroyed a building, something his dad told him in confidence apparently his mother still had no idea he had done that when he was younger.

So this was the tipping point. He lost control mauled some people and scared the people at the mansion and his girlfriend away. If this was the tipping point he was ready to rein everything back in now.

Despite the cold he needed to escape from the mansion and the fake smiles he had to give everyone. He was tired of it all and needed a change of scenery even if it was only for a short period of time. The wind never bothered him much his eyes adjusted quite well under his goggles and the scarf that Liz had gotten him had kept his neck pretty warm while the rest of his body was smothered in thick flannel. The snow had stopped for a time and the roofs were covered in a thin white layer that showed signs of melting under the winter sun that was now making a regular appearance in between the occasional cloud. Needless to say it was a great day to fly.

Flying down the river Carrick looked for a good place to perch on one of the nearby buildings while his golden brown wings seemed to glow in the sunlight. Shifting his wings when an on coming current buffered him he decided to fly a bit higher and then glide to a nearby building.

Hm. That spot there might be decent for fish. Crow leaned forward a bit, the tips of his wings flicking to keep his balance. Hmm. Hmmmm...

Eh. It wasn't the sort of fishing river he was used to at all - even Prince George had better water, and PG's water was downright nasty most of the time. NYC's drinking water wasn't too bad - for all he knew, the city had hired a unicorn mutant to purify it all or something - but the wild water was another story. Crow wasn't too concerned about the quality of the fish the river before him might hold, though. Crows were scavengers, devourers of carrion. If roadkill of dubious age didn't upset his stomach, why would a perfectly fresh fish of dubious pollution?

He'd keep that spot in mind. Leaning back for a moment, he gave his wings a lazy flap and rolled his shoulders. He was warm enough, with warm pants and his current best-modified jacket, and the sun was very pleasant, but staying still for too long still threatened to stiffen his previously cold-abused joints.

It was quick, a sudden movement caught the winged teens attention there was someone like him. Well that was pretty much impossible but there was no way there was a bird that size from this distance. No it was much larger and now that he was looking at it. Carrick shifted his wings glided over till he was a good distance closer, that was when he noticed the black wings, far less attractive than his own. It was hard to compete to his golden brown wings. Carrick’s mismatched color eyes shifted from his own wings for a second before shifting them back to the black wings.

Despite the chip on his shoulder and his need to be alone curiosity seemed to get the best of him, was there someone one else similar to him in New York? Maybe he was’t going through the same things Carrick was going through but he would understand being an outcast and constantly stared at. Wings did that. A screech exited Carrick’s mouth similar to one when a hawk or a falcon dives. Instead he was using it like a call to let the other guy know he was coming in.

Carrick dove towards the building his wings closed to his back as he started to gain speed till he was closer then angled his head up and snapped open his wings allowing his body to catch an upwards draft. Feeling the strain on his wings he flapped once and slowed till he was eye level with the black winged mutant.

Crow's first warning was the screech. Avian, a little more predatory than the jumpier birds preferred, but a little off. Crow's head snapped up and he caught sight of...

Someone flying on feathered wings. Sweet and really? Crow admitted that he felt a tinge of jealousy at being able to fly reliably (as opposed to crash into the first object not soft enough to not injure himself on) in such a form, but he wasn't hard-hearted enough to spurn a welcome meeting with someone of similar form. Keeping himself facing the stranger, he realized that the lighter-feathered flier had significantly larger wings than his own, both in span and in proportion. 'Kid' might be more apt than merely 'stranger,' come to think of it.

Watching the kid fly, Crow did his best to pay attention to the details and mechanics. How his wings moved, when he moved them and how much. Crow figured that a large part of his problem was the number of minds involved; when each flew for itself, it was easy, but trying to get everyone to agree and work together with that degree of synchronicity? Yikes.

Crow raised a hand in greeting as the kid slowed before him. "Nice weather for the season," he said welcomingly.

Once the hand was raised Carrick made an effort to smile. Normally smiles came easy to him but lately he hadn’t been in the best of moods. That chip was still lurking somewhere on his shoulder. ”Better than usual at least!” Carrick said as he flapped his wings a few more times keeping himself still in the air before deciding that he could land next to the darker winged mutant. Curiosity was still keeping him focused for now.

Landing with a small crouch Carrick’s bronzed wings snapped behind him with a quick folding until they were positioned comfortably behind him glad his clothes allowed his wings such movement. His lions tail flicked behind him as he turned to face the guy. ”Never seen you round these parts before.” Carrick said somewhat distant as he looked to see the tattoos on the mutants body.
Carrick didn’t say anything but his mismatched eyes said enough for him.

Flashing a smile his elongated canines revealed themselves as Carrick walked over a few more feet towards the guy, ”Whatcher name?”

Ah, a feathered fellow with similar views. Crow gave the kid some space to land, marvelling at how easily he moved through the air. And at how well his clothing worked. He'd have to try to pry the secrets from him. Politely, of course. Crow was no monster!

"We haven't been around long; ended up in this town just in time for winter." He fluffed the back of his hair; he still wasn't convinced it had been the best place to stop, but he was hungry and tired and dirty. Ah, well. The longest night had passed, and the weather would soon begin to improve for the long term. "You from here?" He spoke idly, cheerily, not concerned about how the kid answered or even if he did.

"Crow! Not so creative, but a friend thought it fit some time back and it does. How about you?" His mood did still for a brief moment at the sight of the kid's teeth, but it was only momentary. Predatory mutants were still mutants, and that allegiance came first. Plus this was a kid. It was much nicer to simply converse and be friendly.

‘We’ Carrick thought about this for a second, was he royalty? Carrick doubted it but there was that fire woman at the mansion who was a duchess or some kind of lady of England. Maybe the guy was in a similar situation? No his clothes didn’t match and he didn’t carry himself like he was royalty. Carrick usually could make out if someone had money this guy didn’t have much, something else they had in common. ”Shit time to show.” Carrick said his tail flicking behind him as he continued to try and make an assessment of the guy.

The next question made Carrick give a genuine laugh a brief one but still a laugh, ”Does it sound like I’m from here?” Carrick asked quickly allowing his accent to be heard, ”From Belfast across the pond.” Carrick waited for a second and walked over to the ledge and took a seat a few inches away from the other mutant.

”Crow? Carrick asked his mismatched color eyes taking another glance at the guy’s tattoos. They looked like birds, must be how he got his name. ”Interesting name.” Carrick said approving of the nickname, the black wings helped the name stick he’d imagine as well. ”Well if we’re going by nicknames, names Gryph.” his bushy tail flicked behind him the way a cats did as it was playing with its food. Of course Carrick didn’t think that Crow was food but his other form apparently wouldn’t mind it.

”They call you crow because of the wings or cause of the tats?” Carrick asked wondering as he added, ”Got one of me own but it is only over me heart.” his legs swayed under him as he reached into his flannel pocket and pulled some bird seed some of the same that Liz had gotten him before she had left. He looked at his handful and offered some up to the fellow winged mutant without putting much thought into it.

"Eh, we're from farther north. Had reliable shelter, though, unlike when we first got here." The weather was what the weather was; in the grand scheme of things, since it hadn't proven lethal, it was a relatively minor issue.

Crow snorted as Gryph laughed. "Do we sound like we're from a city with people from all over?" he joked. "Belfast. Northern Ireland?" he asked, trying to remember his world geography material. The usefulness of a dogwood! Figuring out what country (or whatever northern Ireland was currently classed as; Crow wasn't confident enough to venture a guess that might get a literal piece taken out of him) random mutants hailed from!

His snort relaxed into a full chuckle. "Oh, these aren't tattoos. Each of these is one of us." The markings on his face shifted slightly, the edges almost seeming to pull away for a moment before settling back down. It was too cold to split up entirely, and the conversation was pleasant enough for everyone to be agreeable about continuing it. "We are Crow because we are crows. It's too cold to show off, though." He winked. "It's warmer together."

Oh, food! Gryph was so friendly. It was too bad Crow didn't have anything he could offer back; he had only his clothing, which would be too big for the kid anyway, and his necklace, which was far too personal. He accepted some politely, and tossed a bit back. Mmm, not bad.

When he took some of the seeds Carrick put a few in his mouth and chewed them quietly for a moment as he thought about some of the things Crow had said. When he finally spoke it was on the topic of his ‘not tattoos’ ”Crows huh?” Carrick said nodding his head while he was looking to see if they continued to move. ”Warm is good.” he nodded again before asking, ”How many are ‘we’, your crows I mean. Sounds like you got a lot of birds.” Carrick made a mental note when in Gryphon form not to eat any crows that he saw.

For the most part pigeons and other birds were usually on the menu when he shifted into his more familiar side the one that he could control. Crows and other larger birds were smart enough to get out of the way when they saw him the ones that didn’t well Carrick usually took that as an insult and ate them the Gryphon was the one that was highest up on the food chain.

”Correct about the northern Ireland bit though.” Carrick said adding with a moth full of bird seed. ”Very green there, nothing like the grey buildings.” his tail flicked behind him some more as he shifted his gaze from the crows on crow to the cold waters below. ”How far north?”

"It is." Crow polished off his bit of seed and tucked his hands back into his pockets before the still-cool air could worm its way into his flesh. "There's a couple dozen of us. Counting is too much effort." He tried not to stare at Gryph's teeth or flicking tail. Gryph. Gryphon? Bird+cat. Double dose of predator. Right. Plenty of respect on Crow's part! Hopefully it would resonate with, you know, the mutant running the double dose.

Whooo! He still had what it would take to pass a high school world geography test! Possibly. He could get at least one question. If one of the question happened to be "where is Belfast?" "We know what you mean. It is very green where we are from. Well, very grey, but from weather rather than pollution and steel." He grinned. "How familiar are you with North America? We're from the southwesternmost province in Canada, British Columbia, but from as far north on the coast as you can get before you end up in Alaska. Lots of snow, lots of rain, not too much sun but when it does show it is simply glorious. And all the trees and mountains and ocean you could ever want." Or be deprived of, but there wasn't enough left there now for the landscape to hold Crow. Nothing but ashes and gravestones!

Another handful of birdseed was debated on while he still chewed the first handful listening to Crow talk about his crows, Carrick also started to notice he kept referring to himself as ‘we’ which made Carrick wonder if he was talking to one person or a whole bunch. The more he thought about it the more he got a headache. His mind seemed to adopt a few different traits whenever he shifted like when he shifted into that monster and mauled all those people, that wasn’t something Carrick would normally do.

The talk of Crow’s home in the north was a welcome distraction from the thought of having multiple entities in ones head. If it was so great why did he leave? Carrick was forced to come to New York by his parents they type of people you don’t really argue with. His tail flicked behind him and the cat part of him coxed him into asking a few more questions starting with, ”North America is Canada, and America.” Carrick said in response to the question, ”Pretty much all I know really.” Carrick said with a slight laugh, ”Always liked flying on the coast.” Carrick added off handedly as he scooped another handful and popped some more bird seeds into his mouth.

”If it was so great why didn’t you stay?” Carrick asked having a feeling that he knew the answer, was it possible that Crow was like him. A mutant who didn’t like to be in one place very long? Carrick didn’t count living at the mansion him being in a fixed location, not really New York was big enough for him where there was always something to distract him.

”It ever get to crowded up there?” Carrick asked pointing to his own head, ”You said ‘we’” Carrick commented not really sure or caring if he was offending the crow-covered mutant.