This was starting to get tricky. There wasn't nearly enough game around this city to sustain him for long and while he hated to resort to stealing, it was becoming a necessary evil. Squeezing his eyes shut before opening them he tried to clear his head. Passing out wouldn't do him any good. One last construct, one last chance to get some food in him. Then he didn't know what he would do. He may have to leave this place. It maybe be for the best, with winter on it's way and the temperature dropping further and further each night it wouldn't be safe to stay.

Winter sucked...But he was going to avoid heading for the desert again. Maybe Florida would be a good idea this time around? Maybe sneak into Disney and give himself a vacation, like the ones he would see on billboards and advertisements. A normal activity that people participated in. He missed those.

He missed school too.

He wondered how far behind he was. Maybe it wasn't so bad, he had been listening in on lessons after all. Sure it wasn't a really education but it was close, right? Right and nobody could fault him for running either. He didn't know what they would do if he was found out after all. He heard about the camps and while they became illegal, who knows what else would happen and...

He shook off the distracting thoughts. "This isn't good, I'm starting to drift..."he murmured mostly to himself and halfheartedly to the dog construct. It stared at him blankly, tail wagging slowly. It wasn't like Ace or Marry, or even Pick and Pocket. This one didn't really have a personality, mindlessly obeying commands. But the others either required too much or weren't what he was looking for. It was a bad sign when he couldn't even pull off his more familiar constructs.

He gave a grunt as he shoved himself off the alley wall and walked to the nearby convenience store. He didn't bother to really hide, only stand on the opposite side of the street and sent the dog on it's way. The animal paused at the door waiting for the clerk to be distracted by something else before sneaking in. Alex closed his eyes and directed it to the snack food aisle. Something high in calories, it didn't matter what just anything that could fill him.

Late night snack time sucked when you lived with a schoolful of kids in the habit of raiding the fridge.
Gawain noted with a frown that every snack that required no cooking skills was gone; only the empty boxes and packages remained. Slamming the cupboard shut he looked at the clock: 11pm. He had an hour to go out, grab food, and come back for the shift.

Mirror-hopping down to a late night grocery store was a matter of a few minutes; finding one that looked halfway decent and was open was a little trickier. Gawain exited the mirror around the corner (no reason to scare the clerk) and walked inside, heading for the snack aisle.

He only noticed the dog when it was already halfway out the door with a huge packet of beef jerky.

"Hey!" the clerk yelled, leaning out from behind the counter. Gawain grabbed his chocolate bars (ye shall not judge and X-man) and dropped cash on the counter before he darted outside after the dog. He was not a person to take beef jerky from a stray dog, but he was a dog person, and maybe the stray was in need of a bit of help. Angua could use a playmate anyway.

"Where did you go?..." he murmured, following the little shadow across the street.

Food was on the way, just a little bit longer. He sat down, pulling his hood over his head. He heard the clerk shout so he didn't know if the guy was going to come out after the stolen food or not. He might have to run for it. Though, he didn't know if he had the energy to run. Blacking out was well on it's way and he knew just how not fun that could be. He didn't know what would get to him first, unconsciousness or food.

As his canine companion trotted up to him, he could feel his stomach clench in need. He didn't even bother to thank the dog, only snatch the bag away and cut the connection, letting the construct dissolve to dust. All this out in the open, there was no time to care who saw. He didn't care, all his focus was getting the food in.

Ripping open the bag, he tore into the small meal. It wasn't much, but at least it would be enough for him to survive for a little longer. But it wasn't enough to make any constructs. He would be alone for a while longer. He hated that, being alone for long stretches of time would be hard. His hate for it didn't matter though, it was just a fact.

Damn why were human design with such inefficient feeding mechanisms. The jerky was tough, hard to chew and swallow and it was taking too long. Why couldn't he just absorb the food like an amoeba or just swallow it whole like a fish. Pre-digestion felt like a waste of energy, like the movement of his jaw was sapping more energy from him than the food could give. This was the only food close to the bottom with sufficient nutrition by his estimate.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts and feeding he didn't see the person step out from the little store.

The dog dissolving into dust gave Gawain a start. He stared at the person wearing a hood and apparently too hungry to bother keeping up appearances. The guy was definitely a mutant... or something similar. Suddenly, feeding a hungry stray was the last thing on the young mirrorwalker's mind.

"Hey" he said, from what he deemed was probably a safe distance, or at least not threateningly close to an unknown mutant... person.

"... you seem hungry."

The young mutant gave a start, grip tightening on the package subconsciously. He looking up at the guy, he was able to at least recognize that this was at least not the clerk. No probably someone who just witnessed everything.

Standing, stance wide,to keep from falling and prepared to run. Even though he was sure he wouldn't get very far. "Yeah, so, what about it?" He said this with as much confidence as he could muster. A false bravado. This guy knew nothing about his powers and that mystery could save him.

>>"Yeah, so, what about it?"

The guy was staggering, and not very steady on his feet. Also, a good couple of years younger than Mirror. Gawain tilted his head.

"Believe me, I've been where you are. But getting the... dog... to steal stuff is not the best way to go about it." he looked around and sighed again. About half an hour left. "You care for some decent food? I know I would. Hot dogs?"

The good thing about NYC: Someone was always selling food.

A straight up offer for food? Gnawing on his lip he looked the guy over, not exactly the most threatening type. His stance was casual, relaxed. This wasn't a trick or a trap, just genuine pity. Usually he picked targets to play the pity game with. But if this guy was just willing to offer up his wallet, who was he to say no.

His stomach growled loudly as if to answer for him and it pulled all the serious tension from him. "Heh, eh, yeah, hot dogs sound really good right about now." He smiled at the stranger, offering his hand, "I'm Alex. May I ask your name? Or is this donation anonymous?"

>>"Heh, eh, yeah, hot dogs sound really good right about now."

Kid didn't have much fight left in him. Heck, he was barely standing. Gawain accepted the hand mostly to make sure he didn't trip over.

>>"I'm Alex. May I ask your name? Or is this donation anonymous?"

"Gawain" the young mirrorwalker answered and started walking, heading for the nearest hot dog place. "And it's not a donation. You're a mutant kid, hungry on the streets. That's me five years ago."

There was no question he was a mutant (or at least an adapt, which was essentially the same). Also no question about the hunger.

"So, what's your story?"

"Hit the nail hard on the head there huh..."he murmured. So five years ago this guy was in a similar situation. He wondered how far ranging Gawain's migration had been or if he ever left the city. He cleared his throat, still dry from the salt in the beef jerky. "Um, thanks in any case."

>>"So, what's your story?"

Wow this guy was forward. Then again only a few weeks ago had he been telling a girl what his life was like. So what was one more stranger in on the story. Not like he was going to write it down any time soon. He thought for a moment on how to put.

"Well, it's kind of a long one. What do you want to know?"he asked running a hand through his hair.

>>"Well, it's kind of a long one. What do you want to know?"

"Whatever you are willing to tell" Gawain smirked, walking up to the window of the hot dog place. "Right now, I'd like to know what you want on your hot dogs."

Once Alex gave him the answer, Gawain ordered a boxful of dogs to go, and leaned against the wall next to the window to wait.

"Full disclosure: I'm a mutant too. If you stick around long enough, you'll see for yourself."

It was usually smarter to be up front about these things, at least in Gawain's experience.

"Eat first before you tell the story, though. And don't choke, we're not in a hurry."

Alex leaned against the wall next to Gawain, sliding down to sit. While they waited he chewed on what beef jerky was left in the bag in his backpack. "That's good..."he murmured, though he had to wonder what this guy was getting out of it.

Though that thought was momentary the moment the food was available. He ate slowly, as he had been told. He wanted to cram the food into his gullet as fast as possible but best not to anger whatever luck god was looking out for him.

"Let see..."he sighed, letting the food settle before he went on to the second hotdog, "Since we're being up front and all. I lived in a foster home till I was about thirteen. When I was ten I found out I was a mutant. I freaked out because at first I thought the devil had gotten me."

He chuckled, "Small town, you understand. Anyway, I figured out what it actually was and started practicing in secret. I didn't want to end up like the mutants in the news and I didn't want anybody to freak. I think it was just after they closed those mutant camps, so you can understand how close I dodged a bullet there."

"And sometime later on I went to a forum asking people what I should do about my living situation. I never let on that I was a) fuckin' 12 and b) a foster kid. Didn't want people to think I was looking for attention. So this guy encouraged me to make it on my own, go into the wild, rough it, that sort of thing. I didn't take his advice right away, but the next summer, well rough it I did." He slumped further against the wall, taking a moment to eat the rest of his second hotdog.

Gawain chewed on a hot dog while he listened to the kid's story. He settled for telling it between hot dog no. 1 and no. 2. It was quite a story; in some ways very similar to his own, and in some other ways, different in a less fortunate way.

"I knew I was a mutant from the get go" he supplied, mostly talking to give the guy time to eat, he still looked starved "I was born with an active mutation. I was thirteen like you when... um, I ended up on my own. Three years on the streets, I developed a second mutation and... um, some bad habits too."

Like, stealing things. That kind of came with the territory and the mutation.

"How long have you been out here?..."

Gawain could not argue with running away from a foster home, even though he had never been in one... he had been off the grid to begin with, thanks to Mom. She had the skills even before she turned into and assassin for hire.

"Also... what exactly is your mutation? I've seen you, um... make a dog go poof, but that's my only clue."

He listened with curiosity, noting how similar their stories were. It was strange but comforting to know someone else out there who knew what it was like. Perhaps it was idiotic of him to think he was alone in this.


>>"How long have you been out here?..."

"Here specifically? A month or so. But I've been on my own about three years give or take a few months. Originally I was in nowhere Idaho. From there to here I've been hoofing it from small town to small town. I think the biggest place I've been to aside from here was Salt Lake City."he explained.

>>"Also... what exactly is your mutation? I've seen you, um... make a dog go poof, but that's my only clue."

He couldn't help but smile at that. "Its easier to show you." Now that he had some food in his belly he felt a little more sure about making a construct. A small one, but at least something to show. So he picked at the end of his hotdog, squashing the material a bit before he broke it down and reconstructed it into a beetle. "Tada, organic matter into organic life." He held up the beetle for Gawain to see.

>>"Here specifically? A month or so. But I've been on my own about three years give or take a few months. Originally I was in nowhere Idaho. From there to here I've been hoofing it from small town to small town. I think the biggest place I've been to aside from here was Salt Lake City."

"Yeh I remember that" Gawain nodded with a small smile "Migrated here from Seattle."

That was a long trip, even for a mirrorwalker.
Now that he was fed and at ease, the kid seemed willing to show off his powers. Gawain watched with curiosity.

>>"Its easier to show you... Tada, organic matter into organic life."

The Prince of Orkney's jaw dropped.

"Holy ****" he blinked "That's... wow, that's kind of awesome."

All kinds of awesome.

"So, um. That's how you made the dog? You can control them too?"

He loved that look, awe and wonder. He may be a tired hobo mutant but he had something nobody else had. It was his craft, his talent, only for him.

>>"So, um. That's how you made the dog? You can control them too?"

"Yup, all in my brain. Unfortunately, the one big thing is that they don't feed or mate or really die like normal animals. It's all through me. So the more constructs I make, the more I need to eat."he explained.

"Heh, normally I'd hunt or have one of the constructs hunt for me but man New York is almost as bad as the desert. Nothing but pigeons to eat. I'd go after the rats too but you know diseases, I can't really risk it." He sighed and shrugged, moving to stand once more.

"So...what happens now? I mean earlier you said this wasn't a donation, there's gotta be a catch then, right?"he said, letting the beetle fall to dust on his hand.