Margo, was, of all places, at the park.

What was strange about a girl at the park? Nothing.

What was strange about a mutant girl who had run away from home, one who normally spent as little of her time outside on public property during the hotter seasons as possible, sitting by herself in a deserted, shady area, eating a quick lunch and sipping a smoothie? Yeah. Practically nothing, either.

It wasn't by any means an outlandish idea, but it definitely wasn't Margo Jewell.

Hey, the smoothie- pineapple and strawberry- was good.

She had yet to find a place to stay, so after lunch, she would check that out. After asking around, she'd been given the idea that there were several good mutant shelters in this area. She would take a look. For now- sunlight, pineapple and strawberry smoothie, the park.

That phrase from the movie Alice in Wonderland was stuck in her head. "How is a raven like a writing desk?" Margo pondered the question. Well, they were both matter...

Was there even a right answer to this question? Ugh, she thought.

"How is a raven like a writing desk?"

"Poe wrote on both..." The voice often belonging to those well educated, high class and droning, offered from the nearby shrubbery.

He'd just eaten. Her name was Marie, and she believed in a human being's right to free speech. They'd had a lengthy conversation, actually. She, on the street, her 'Mutants =/= humans' sign proudly shouting that the rights man had did not apply to mutant kind. Roach had politely responded that should the rights not apply, the laws would not as well.

They had a lengthy debate about it, and then he ate her.

There were more details than that, but lengthy explanations were unimportant in this context.

Suffice to say he was clever about it.

Now, fairly full, he'd decided to take a nice walk to burn some calories. During that time, he'd spotted something interesting. An interesting hat.

The only problem was it was currently in the possession of another.

His answer? Sneak up, take it, walk away... Maybe slap her. If she protested too much, well, she would pay the price for choosing to sit in a particularly secluded area of the park.

As he snuck up, though, he was presented with something that piqued his interest. A Lewis Carroll quote? Not quite. She'd worded it wrong. "And I believe you were looking for... WHY is a raven like a writing desk"

The voice came suddenly out of a bush, startling her.

"Poe wrote on both.." Followed shortly by, "And I believe you were looking for... WHY is a raven like a writing desk?"

"Goshdarnit" Margo said reflexively, more out of surprise than anything, jumping to her feet. Once her mind caught up with her body, she realized she must have thought aloud. Embarrassment colored her cheeks as she realized her misquote. Then, probably far too late, the caution seized her. Where had the voice come from? Lofty, quiet, bored, male was all she remembered. She was alone in the park, surrounded by shrubbery behind which anything could be lurking. Did the voice belong to a kidnapper? Murderer? For all she knew, the Pied Piper was hiding behind a tree, waiting to pounce.

What should she do? Remaining carefully on her feet, she took a quick inventory. Smoothie, half-eaten sandwich, backpack, hat, bench chained to the ground. Nothing of much use. She decided if somebody tried to attack her she would run for it. Margo was pretty confident he wouldn't catch her.

She stalled, taking a sip of that oh-so-good smoothie. Replied in that same voice of the classroom, curious and respectful and just a little bit giggly. "Whoops. I suppose, that's quite clever. May I ask who you are?"

He'd startled her. Oh, what fun! She'd gone from sitting to standing faster than... something expedient. She'd even thrown in an almost curse word! Wow. He might just have to eat this kid. She was simply overwhelming. It was like seeing a puppy so innocent you couldn't resist the urge to kick it.

"Whoops. I suppose, that's quite clever. May I ask who you are?"

She spied about for him, his safe spot in the bushiest of the shrubs hid his form from her. It was a lovely opportunity to have a little fun.

"You cannot see me. I may as well be the Cheshire cat. Tell me. What is a lone human doing sitting alone in a place like this. You do know it's very dangerous in this part of the city... For those like you. I like your hat, by the way."

"You cannot see me. I may as well be the Cheshire cat. Tell me. What is a lone human doing sitting alone in a place like this. You do know it's very dangerous in this part of the city... For those like you. I like your hat, by the way."

Margo peeked around. Where was that creature, whatever he was? He'd said she could not see him, but was that entirely true, or was he just toying with her? His other words gave her a sense of foreboding. What in the world had she gotten herself into now? It looked like she might have to run for it after all.

Then his choosy vocabulary hit her. "Human" and "those like you." She had yet to meet a person who discriminated unless they were outside named group, Hitler and the Jews, Civil War all over again? If he was some sort of wraith, that might be it. But if he was a mutant...

For once, she thanked her lucky stars for her mutation. Probably useless in day-to-day life, but it gave Margo good access to both worlds, human and mutant.

The girl decided to test the waters. "Thank you! That is, I'm glad you like my hat." She said politely. Then "But I'm not quite sure I should start spewing answers yet, seeing as I can't see you. One thing though, you might not want to label me quite human, unless you're a centipede or something. Then, I won't judge you from not differentiating between humans and mutants." She was taking a risk by implying that she was a mutant, but here, alone, it was the best chance she had. He'd called her "human" with distaste in his voice, so he couldn't be a mutant hater. Right? Right?

"Who exactly are you?" Same question again, hopefully this time she would get an answer.

"Thank you! That is, I'm glad you like my hat." She politely chirped. So well mannered. Odd, she almost reminded him of Lewis Carroll's darling little girl, lost in a world much too mad for her liking.

"So strange, you don't wear it on your head." That would likely be confusing. When he spoke of her hat, his eyes did not look to her head. She wouldn't know that, though, having not quite seen him yet.

"But I'm not quite sure I should start spewing answers yet, seeing as I can't see you. One thing though, you might not want to label me quite human, unless you're a centipede or something. Then, I won't judge you from not differentiating between humans and mutants."

"Mutant? Interesting." Mayhaps he could hold off on dessert. Still, a child... Perhaps a bit naive? He may still be able to have some fun. He chittered lowly, under his breath, and out from his shell crawled a little cockroach. Suzanne, one of his new ones. Some instructions later, the little bug crawled out and waved it's legs at the girl, mimicking a human in it's tiny little mannerisms. His bugs were quite intelligent; perhaps more so than the average human.

"I apologize, I am not quite the centipede you imagined. Do please refrain from coming any closer. I fear you may try to crush me. Tell me, then... In what way are you a mutant?"

"So strange, you don't wear it on your head."

What? Margo thought. That was surprising, and gave the girl quite a bit of pause. She was wearing a hat, and it was on her head. Was he looking at something else? Oh, she wished she could see him. He had a huge advantage in being able to see her. Or maybe, a figurative hat. "What do you mean? I-"

Then, the little cockroach crawled out from behind a bush. Argh, she hated cockroaches. Indestructible, nasty insects. But this one was actually... Sort of cute. Was it actually the source of the voice though, or one of his minions? Or family members? She stared at it hard a while, judging. Small and it acted decidedly more like a human than a bug. That didn't exactly rule anything out. It could have been a visible mutant, born tiny but smart, with human vocal cords and who knew what else. She doubted any human's X-gene, appearing later in life, could have changed him so much. Or maybe it belonged to a bug- creating mutant. Who knew?

"I apologize, I am not quite the centipede you imagined. Do please refrain from coming any closer. I fear you may try to crush me. Tell me, then... In what way are you a mutant?"

First person, Margo noted. Was it a ploy for her to believe he was the bug? "Oh." She said out loud. "Sorry if I insulted you, that wasn't my intention." She decided not to look at the little cockroach himself, but behind the bush from which it had crawled.

"I haven't completely figured it out yet, but I can mess with things in your head. What about you?"