It seemed like maybe it hadn’t been his idea to do the community service. Something about his tone… or the fact that it was a punishment to minor offenders. Nothing quite like scrubbing ‘muties suk’ graffiti off of assorted surfaces to get you pumped to join a team for fair and equal treatment of all gene types. The minimum age limit made sense, although it was so far away for the little one.

Puppykid confirmed that he was indeed a puppy, and she wondered how that might translate as he grew older, and what, if anything, was homo-superior about it. Perhaps he had doglike sense of smell, or always cried at distant sirens. The powerful bit might take time to develop, or it might never come at all, and he be a dogish person and that was it. The exaggerated panting and faux-bark made her suspect that he couldn’t speak doggish.

“I’d rather not say until I know what your power is.” Oh was that how it was? There was the slightest twinge of suspicion, she wasn’t sure that she had mentioned being a mutant, and he hadn’t seemed to indicate that Maya had told him anything about her when she mentioned the First Aid class. Rowan tried to share his knowledge and the muffling and revelation that he was trying to be suave put her a little more at ease. She was pretty sure that being a coffeemat wasn’t a mutant ability, but the word that sounded like coffee had her hankering for that caffine fix. She had to pull her focus back in to provide an accurate description of her mutation. She almost wished it was coloured air that she breathed, so she could give a demonstration. She didn’t want to reveal her whole hand though, so she settled for just half of the truth.

“I breathe in carbon dioxide, and out oxygen. Like a tree, but I don’t have leaves.”

She winked at Rowan conspiratorially. She would rock a leafy hairdo.

“Suave is like cool dude ^(TM), so, cool dude. What do you do? Fair is fair.”

She’d told him hers (sort of), now she got to find out just exactly what a coffeemat’s special ability was. The bus shook as it took off from this stop. They were next.

It took a second to put two and two together. She was a plant. Sans plant. Normal looking lady. Hella boring power. "Huh." Jude hadn't noticed if he was breathing any different. How was he supposed to know if he'd swapped powers or not when it was so incredibly boring?

Rowan freed himself from Jude's hand and finished tattling. "Judy is a copycat! He copies like the copy machine in the teacher room with the box of scissors, but you don't put your face on the glass when the light goes by. You get in trouble for that and it makes you not see like a blinded."

Jude chose artfully to ignore the fact that his little brother had been caught copying his face in the teacher's lounge at the Mansion. "My power is usually the last person I touched." He huffed a sigh. "Is zere a way to know if I'm a tree now too?"

The bus rumbled to a stop and Jude did a double take when he realized they were home already. Huh. The Zinnia lady wasn't all bad after all.

"Are you old?"

"She's not old, Ro."

Jude unseated Rowan and gathered his stuff quickly so they didn't miss the stop. One last check- Yeah. They were clear. -and the two boys were trundling toward the front, but Rowan kept turning around to check on Zinnia.

"Old people can live at our house too." Jude tugged him around again. "It's big enough." They were on the stairs leading down now. "Do you want to live with us Zinnia?"

"I'm sure she has a lovely flat in the city, squirt."

Ah, a power copy-cat, that could be a little issue. She could control the shifts now with relative ease, and had grown used to not breathing for a minute or two at a time while the shift happened, but if it was suddenly thrust on someone that could be a real issue. Surely he would shift to a puppyteen as he had held Rowan’s hand since she had copped his fist to her eyebrow. Still, keeping secrets that could endanger the teenager was not really fair.

“Erm, I can swap back and forth between tree-breathing and normal breathing, so if you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe at all you’re swapping over. Don’t panic, it makes it worse.”

So reassuring.

The small one was too small to know it was rude to ask a lady’s age. His estimations of age so far seemed to be three, split by a day to ten, followed shortly after by ‘old’, she guessed that was fair. Without having had her coffee yet she felt old. They managed to exit the bus without incident and Rowan offered her a place to live, which was all in all rather sweet.

“I feel pretty old sometimes, but I’ve still got time before I’m a granny.”

Still time before she became a Mom probably, but her own Mamma liked to point out that clock was tick-tocking. She wanted to finish her exams, become a fully qualified nurse, maybe even move up the ranks a bit before she settled down to [it]that[/i] particular expectation.

“That’s very generous of you Rowan, but Jude is right, I already have a house to live in. Maybe I can come and visit you instead?”

It was an interesting place, where children and adults all lived together in one big communal house, together because of a single gene, a commonality in their biological make up. It had had its share of hiccups from what she had seen on the news, but it was mostly from outsiders causing trouble not internal issues between students and residents. She would keep it in mind if she ever found herself between leases with nowhere to go.

The gates loomed above, having the little form of puppykid next to her made them seem even taller than when she came here by herself. This time there was no Maya to let them in. Perhaps the teen had a swipe pass or an access code to get in. Alternatively they could shout out to some of the assorted figures running about in scarves and jackets and someone was bound to let them in. The chill to the wind was no barrier to playtime. She was pretty sure she glimpsed a shirtless figure sprinting around amongst the jackets, and she hoped that a mutation was involved to keep from the chill causing harm.

“Can you show me the kitchen Rowan?”

She offered the little mutant her hand. It was coffee and cocoa time. Then after that, something for her head, which was starting to feel rather tender.

> “...so if you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe at all you’re swapping over. Don’t panic, it makes it worse.”

Ah. Perfect. "I'll just try to keep breathing then." It was weird to pay attention to something that usually just happened automagically. Assuming he even had that power. Jude's power felt relatively satisfied, but it wasn't like there was an indicator or head's up display to keep it all untangled. It was his intuitions and "feelings" that guided how he used it all.

"I'd swap to Ro's power, but since we don't know what he's got, that doesn't seem like a wise choice." It wasn't even fully developed or whatever. "It hits my mutant-dar all weird." The teen offered the kid a little smile of apology. "You're just gonna have to wait, kid, to see what you got."

To that Rowan wrinkled his nose at Jude. It was no small secret in their family that Jude, specifically, had not waited. He'd actively gone and found someone to jump start his power.

> "I’ve still got time before I’m a granny.”

"Ghost says if she's a grandmother, someone is in trouble." Probably him. Admittedly, 16 was too young to be taking on that kind of responsibility.

"So your kids are babies? Or are they big like me? Will you bring 'em when you visit?"

It was a tromp through some grass to get to the gate. Tall grass for Rowan, but less than knee-high for the rest of them.

Jude had an access code. Like Danger Room access, those weren't handed out too freely so he edged his shoulder between Ms. Zinnia's view and the num pad before he typed it in. And then they were in. Even if Zinnia had been an evil vampire mutant, this was probably the best place to make that revelation.

> “Can you show me the kitchen Rowan?”

"Yes, ma'am!" Rowan tugged Zinnia's hand so that she would match the break-neck speed he preferred. "It's got lots of hidey cabinets and the closet is full of snacks!"

Jude hoisted his backpack and checked his phone before following a comfortable pace behind.

Just keep breathing.

She never had to adjust to her power per se, she had no big dramatic coming of age where her X-gene burst forth, but sometimes even now she had to remind herself to keep breathing. There wasn’t really any way to tell whether her power was ‘active’, seeing as how it was technically always active, so unless Jude knew what it felt like to breathe the different gases he probably wouldn’t be able to tell. She hoped if he had adopted her power that whatever wacky biology was going on in her lungs, which meant she didn’t suffocate while breathing Carbon Dioxide, would come across too. When they had gone through all the tests the doctors had advised that they didn’t know how her lungs converted the gasses ‘backwards’, and that the only way to tell was to do a dissection.

They had decided that option wasn’t really an option.

The development of from-birth powers was something that fascinated her, that a person could aesthetically be so clearly a mutant, but not yet have special abilities manifest until later, if ever. The shift to the unknown wasn’t something they were going to delve into today, though. Probably safest to grab some friend or other with a known power to borrow from, just in case. Perhaps one of the children scattered about, or the teens that stalked the edges of the grass like cats who didn’t want you to think they were embarrassed. There were adults who lived her too, they had said, but she hadn’t seen any yet.

Rowan’s guesstimations on the age of her imaginary children brought a smile to her face. When she had kids, if ever, she hoped they were as cute as this one. She made a non-committal noise about bringing them to visit. Her brothers were young but that was the closest she came to kids outside the hospital. There hadn’t been a baby in their family for many years. A fact that her mother liked to pointedly bring up every now and then.

“A fair reason for trouble if you ask me. Wrap it before you tap it Y’all.”

It just made sense. Too many teenagers wound up in the ED with a myriad of symptoms that could have been avoided with just a little bit of sense. And latex. Pregnancy was one of them, but at least that wasn’t really transmissible.

He hid the code from her and she looked away politely. She probably wouldn’t have remembered it, but it was the same courtesy as turning your head when someone put their pin into an ATM. It was just rude to look. The buzz-click of electricity recognising the code and letting them in signalled her to turn her attention back to the path. It was important to keep an eye on the terrain, as they were now racing across it. Kitchen ho! To snacks and hidey cabinets! And possibly also to icepacks for certain punch-lumps.

Their race was slowed a little by the sweeping staircase at the front of the building as Rowan’s chubby little legs had to navigate each step individually. The thought of stepping up the dozen steps if they were as high as her knees as they were for Rowan slowed her further. That gave her a chance to catch her breath, then they were off again. They dashed past doors, open and closed. Sidestepped people moving at a less break-neck speed. They were both puffing and giggling when they finally arrived at the kitchen. It was simultaneously massive and cosy. She hadn’t expected anything less. She kept one eye on Rowan as she bee-lined for the fridge, although surely anything he shouldn’t be allowed to grab would be in a high cupboard, or have kiddy-proofers. Hello icepacks. They had a whole pile of them, and after a little drawer rummaging she had one wrapped in a tea-towel and pressed against her forehead. The kettle was flicked on and she utilised the small one’s familiarity with the place.

“Is there Cocoa Mix?”

As long as the children of the Mansion didn’t eat it with a spoon like her brothers did. Like she used to. She wouldn’t be mad, just disappointed. With the puppy-kid’s help there were three mugs set up, one coffee, one cocoa and one empty awaiting Jude’s preference by the time the aforementioned would arrive.

> "Wrap it before you tap it Y’all.”

Jude snickered and then, like the adult he was, cleared his throat and regained his composure. Yep. He sorta already knew all about that part.

The teen considered dropping his stuff off and catching up to the nurse-lady and Rowan, but as trustworthy as she was, Jude just didn't know her well enough to leave his baby brother in her care. He hoisted his heavy bag and followed them to the kitchen. He did take the shortest of detours to high-five DocProf so that he could swap powers and get his hand healed up.

Rowan was as helpful as he looked. Which was to say that he was less helpful than he intended, but his heart was in the right place. Their entire kitchen adventure was narrated by the tyke.

"Yes. Good. Didjoo put the water in the kettle? Mom gets sadmad when the kettle is on wif no water. Good. And now we go in the pantry. Yes."

> “Is there Cocoa Mix?”

"We have little packbags and they have tiny marshermarlows! Come see!"

Jude let his backpack slide down against the breakfast bar and shimmied up onto a barstool so that he could watch and unpack the tissues from around his hand. Zinnia had grabbed an icepack before he'd gotten there. That was smart of her, but he intended to fix her up before she went on her way. It wasn't right to mark a lady's face.

"Coffee for me. Please." Though, if some cocoa also found its way into his coffee, Jude would not complain. He picked a last bit of fluff out of his knuckles and let DocProf's power wash through his hand to close up what had been an oozing scrape. "When you have a minute. Let me un-do that punch." Jude reached over the bar to flip on the sink tap and ran his now whole hand under the water so that he'd have clean hands for their coffee date. Uh. Coffee whatever-this-was.

"Yes. I will have the coffee too, but with the marshermarlows." Rowan went to fetch spoons.

"Yes. Good. Didjoo put the water in the kettle? Mom gets sadmad when the kettle is on wif no water. Good. And now we go in the pantry. Yes."

The constant chatter was sweet, and her mind touched again on the thought of having her own kids… Sadmad was an excellent description, and there was in fact enough room in the pantry for them to go in – it had a light in there and everything. She guessed that with that many young mutants hanging about it was pretty important to have food of all types readily accessible, she knew how stroppy her little brothers got on empty tummies and they didn’t even have any mutations to keep under control (that she knew of).

She poured the water into the cups and logic’d her way to the milk which she added liberally to her own cup and Rowan’s. She hesitated as the swirl of white mixed in to form a light brown.

“Can puppy people have chocolate? I mean, coffee with marshmallows?”

She was certain what the three (and a half!) year old’s answer would be, but she wanted to check in with someone a little less influenced by the thought of minimallows. She left the milk out so Jude could choose his own coffee strength and retrieved a bag of cookies she had noticed while they were in the pantry. Snickerdoodles, surely fine for the most canine among them.
From what she could see his hand was completely healed. Neato. Perhaps she could convince him towards a healthcare profession, a healer would be a massive boon. Or maybe not, if he picked up powers in passing… The hospital was often the first port of call for mutants who had had a misfortune. She had worked on several – as well as the people who got in their way.

“Can you store people’s powers?”

She offered the open bag of cookies to Rowan and lifted him up onto a stool so they could all sit at the bench together. Once everyone was set up with their beverages she presented her forehead to the teen.

“Unpunch away.”

Puppy people? "I am a strong, young man thank you." Rowan had to go up on tippy toe to reach his cup, but he did so all by himself. And he brought the mug to his lips before very quickly pulling it away from those same lips. He was obviously being strong here, with the tears in his eyes. Totally not crying. "Can I have an ice cube? It's too hot."

Jude snickered as he doctored up his own mug. Coffee wasn't really his thing, but he wasn't going to say no. Coffee was an adult drink. And, yeah, Jude could identify that he was being a little like Rowan in wanting to look grown up. The difference was that really, he was a lot closer to being grown up. So he could get away with drinking a drink that wasn't his favorite. He just had to not make a face like his little bro.

The copycat poured the smallest amount of milk until the contents of his cup nearly matched the strange woman they'd brought home. "I don't sink we've had any problems with chocolate before, but maybe something to keep in mind." He might tell DocProf to make a note in a file somewhere or something.

> “Can you store people’s powers?”

"Sort of." Jude sipped daintily on his coffee and eyed the cookies. He decided that eating something sweet would probably make the coffee taste even more bitter so he held off in the name of manliness. "Mutations are kind of slippery things. Like shadows that I can't see and can only kind of feel. All my power does is point to new powers. It doesn't care if I have one. If I have it, it's old. Old is not as interesting as new, I guess."

So sometimes it was weird to know what he had. It wasn't like mutations had flavors or anything. Or labels. His power didn't tell him what other powers did or did not do. So his best bet was to not touch other mutants or stay away from the really powerful guys. Or, since he was at the Mansion, he just planned on swapping powers regularly.

Rowan got to sit with them at the kitchen bar. Jude couldn't even reach the floor from his stool, so Ro's legs dangled from the heights. Once everyone was settled, Zinnia indicated that she was ready for him to unpunch her.

"Easy. Lean in and let me see." She probably didn't have to lean in, but it did make it easier for him to reach. Jude put his hand at the side of the woman's face and inspected the damage he'd done, which while it wasn't much, it also wasn't nothing.

Heat came from his hand and for a moment Jude was rendered blind as he watched the incident replay. Heh. He'd felt pretty cool about protecting his brother, but more scared than anything else.

"You really shouldn't walk around offering strange kids candy."

He ran his thumb over what he had hurt and the owie smoothed away. There. An un-punch.

Of course he was a strong little gent. A strong little gent who needed ice bobbing alongside his mallows. She quickly obliged, blowing on the steaming beverage all the way to the freezer where she found ice cubes easily. She also shook out the teatowel and replaced the pack she had been cradling against her forehead. She plopped three cubies in the drink and brought a spare in case he needed to hold it against his lips for a bit.

“Of course you are, here. I’m sorry I made it too hot, your kettle is much better than mine.”

Technically true.

"Mutations are kind of slippery things. Like shadows that I can't see and can only kind of feel. All my power does is point to new powers. It doesn't care if I have one. If I have it, it's old. Old is not as interesting as new, I guess."

So the copying had needs, demands to be fed with new powers, suggestions to run around grabbing people and imprinting from them. No double cackling manically the whole way, ‘muahahahahaaaaa!’. She was glad he had it under control.

She leaned in obligingly, her own feet swinging just a tad less enthusiastically than Rowan’s above the floor. His hands were warm. Then they were really warm and the pain tingled away. She wriggled her eyebrow gingerly. No pain. It was as if it had never happened.

Except that he was reminding her why exactly she received that fist in the first place. She nodded. In the future she would be far more conscious of how much like a kidnapper she looked when she was trying to… not kidnap… collect children. Which didn’t really sound that much better.

“Desperate times and desperate measures and all that. But yes, it was pretty dodgy looking.”

Particularly on the replay, where there wasn’t as much context coming from her own brain. She was lucky really, that he hadn’t just pummelled her into the dirt. She was still glad though, that she had found them and hopefully alleviated some of Maya’s worry prior to her meeting.

“So you can tell who’s a mutant just by looking at them?”

He’d probably want to keep that one under wraps, she suspected the police might like a mutant to use in the same way they used the META bots. Creepily sussing out who was a mutant from a distance.

“And will you have mine again now that you touched me?”

Or maybe because he was using the mutation he borrowed he couldn’t lose it. Or maybe he could copy multiples. Or maybe as soon as he stopped using it he would take on her power. Or maybe none of it. She popped another cookie into her mouth. With the caffeine fuelling her brain there was no telling where it might run off to.

She wiggled her eyebrow under his thumb and Jude looked at her. Like, really looked at her for the first time. Her skin was smooth and whole again, a carmely tone that just wasn't seen every day. She wasn't as old as he'd assumed. At least, she didn't have the telltale smile-line that he'd expected. She was actually, like... pretty.

> “So you can tell who’s a mutant just by looking at them?”

"What? No. Haha." Jude let her go and turned back to his coffee before he'd actually processed what Zinnia had asked. Rowan stuck his entire fist into his drink in order to get better access to the marshmallows hidden within.

"I mean, if I get close I could feel it, but looking? No. It's not that easy." Dang. He was all self conscious now. Dumb pretty girl with dumb pretty eyes. Jude pushed his hair back out of his eyes.

> “And will you have mine again now that you touched me?”

"Whu- no, I didn't tou- I mean that was healing so it kinda doesn't count." Crap. BE COOL AND GET IT TOGETHER MAN. "I could swap to your power now without touching. But there's like a million people with powers here right now. One that way." Jude pointed behind him at what appeared to be a wall. "That's pretty strong, I guess. 'Cause my power keeps pointing that way."

He seemed a bit embarrassed, so she turned her attention to the spreading pool of cocoa expanding from the puppymug. A quick splash in the sink and the tea towel was suitably damp, and she used it to corral the cocoa, like a reverse moat.

“You wanna use a spoon there bud?”

She slid a silverware to the pooch. Marshmallows were a coveted prize, and no matter what context they were served in – smoores, toasted over a fire, or apparently in hot chocolate – someone was bound to get messy. It was simply a fact.

The teen gestured to a wall and Zinnia inspected it thoughtfully. It didn’t look like a mutant. So she was fairly sure the power ping was through the wall. Either that or the mutie was a perfect chameleon. Like, really perfect.

“So more like radar, less like heat vision?”

Mutation, sooooooo hot right now.

A strength indication would be helpful, keep him from choosing weak powers to borrow, or challenging people with strong powers. She idly wondered whether he could tell a mutant that didn’t know they were carrying the X-gene. Whether it had to have manifested before he could sense it in them. She ruffled Rowan’s ears and offered him another teatowl to dry his sticky paws, um, hands.

“So, Ro, what’s your favourite subject at school?”

Did small ones have subjects? Or was it a big amalgamation of everything? She couldn’t recall.

Did Rowan want a spoon?

"No. Why?" He pulled out a tiny marshmallow with all due triumph. Success! He ate it, but before Ro could go digging for another, he was supplied with a spoon. That made him frown until he realized that he could use the spoon to adjust the cloth's position. Dam? No, no. This was now a waterslide.

Jude was studiously ignoring the mess. If he didn't see it, he didn't have to clean it.

> “So more like radar, less like heat vision?”

Huh? Oh, that was for him. Jude tried not to hunch over his cup. "Précisément."

A shameless smile greeted Zinnia when Rowan got her full attention. "I like to go outside! We can run and be LOUD outside. And nobody even cares!"

"She means like a class, dude."

Oh. Rowan swung his legs as his brain kicked into gear. "I like the one where we make the letters of our names. Mine is a R. Errrr, errr Errrowan. It's a R sound. But my my favorite letter is A. It's the best."

He chose the stickiest route. Her year of work experience at a preschool should have predicted that. The teatowel provided a nice wick to channel the cocoa to the floor. The sticky drip-drip was no distraction from the mallows. She made a mental note to swipe that before she went.

Then he was loudly professing the benefits of outside, and she generally had to agree- she imagined hollers were far more appreciated surrounded by grass than by tiles. He quickly adjusted to liking the letters instead when prompted and she nodded.

“A is a great letter. Can you guess what my name starts with? Zzzz, Zzzinnia?”

She stuck her finger in the cocoa pool and traced a Z on the benchtop. She had to wipe it now anyway.

“And you Jude?”

Not the graffiti scrubbing from what she could tell from their earlier conversation. Although she wasn’t sure if that was a class per say, or more like extra-credit towards X-manship.

“Does the Mansion run French?”

Because that would almost be like cheating… Or give him the opportunity to tutor others. Either way, easy marks were easy marks…

"It's a W!" Said at top volume and seemingly without guile. Okay. So maybe Rowan still needed a bit more work on his letters. Or, maybe, considering the special brand of mischievous grin plastered firmly across his face, he knew. And he thought this answer was funnier.

Jude did his teenage best to snort away the validity of Zinnia's question. "No. No French. We 'ave to be well rounded so I'm learning a dead language."

And this was a moment when it felt like he should reciprocate some interest. That was totally normal, right? Getting the know the lady whom he'd assumed was an evil vampire but turned out not to be was the natural next step.

"So how'd you come to be creeping on kids in the park again?"

Wait. That came out wrong.

"I mean, you said you know Ghost or something, right?"

”It’s a W!”

“Well… almost, it’s a Zee, but some people call it Zed. Zee for Zeebra.” Black and white, just like her. Well, maybe not just like her.

Oooh, a dead language. So useful. Actually, if he was talking about Latin and thinking at all of going into a medical profession it was useful, as a general base in Latin was where a lot of the medical terminology came from. And then he was back to the creeping thing. Gosh it was like it was something that was drilled into kids or something.

“Yeah I met her here actually, running a First Aid class. She rang me while I was at work because of the accidents, I think she was worried since she couldn’t get hold of you guys. She was on her way to a meeting or something, and I was nearby.” So there she was. “It’s just lucky I found you guys.” Must have been required to drive the plotline or something.

“I don’t know her all that well, but she seems very nice. Plus I feel like if there was ever anyone I needed to talk to about… air stuff… she’d probably be a good one.”

With the variety of mutations abounding it could be hard to ever find someone who understood the weirdness that inevitably came with it.

“I’d like to set up some sort of knowledge bank of mutations and their effects on their carriers (that sounds a bit like it’s a virus)… their people… so that the medical world can progress a bit more in helping mutants. There’s still so many gaps.”

Actually, she was probably talking to exactly the right person. Were she to write her thesis on the struggles of different mutations she could get a bunch of data all from the one source. She’d have to give him different names of course, but still…

“Do you think there’s anything particular that mutants suffer from in general different from non-Xers?”

Aside from the hatred and victimisation. And power. And chocolate messes she was pretty sure were universal. She grabbed the dish sponge and began swiping the puddle in distinctly Zeebra-y patterns.