Central Park was beautiful, a large open and natural landscape nestled within the brick and concrete of the New York City urban center. Granted only the wealthy could afford to live on Central Park, but many enjoyed it every day. Devon did, but he needed something a bit farther out, a bit closer to nature, and hopefully with air that was a little fresher.

He found Rockaway Beach. It and the Boardwalk were technically part of Queens, a peninsula south of JFK. A long stretch of green park with numerous paths, a tourist-friendly boardwalk with numerous little shops and even an old school arcade, as well as a few sandy beaches for those who savored the sun and water. It was apparently the only beach that legally allowed surfing as well.

Dark shades over his eyes, Devon stared up and down the beach and then over the water. He was people watching and enjoying his rare day off with some time away from the city, from work, from Sanctuary... He was spending a lot of time there and he enjoyed it, but they were giving him a bit more influence and control than he'd originally expected. What was that word exactly? Responsibility. They must have trust him, probably from all the volunteer hours.

He leaned back on his forearms, enjoying the sun on his skin, before taking a water out from a small cooler next to his beach towel. It was warm, climbing into the low 80s. Those hot days were coming, he could tell. It was nice enough; there was a fair breeze making for comfortable beach volleyball or walks around the boardwalk. Someone at a sandwich shop had told him every day past Memorial Day saw Rockaway get busier. He could see why.

There was a lot of civic pride here too. Numerous signs and plaques referenced Superstorm Sandy and the reconstruction since. People had raised quite a bit in donations it seemed and partnered with local leaders to return Rockaway to a place for the locals and tourists alike. Now they had movie nights, concerts, yoga in the morning... Devon was pleased the city saw the value in nature here.

So did he.

Scotty was still getting a bit used to the 'Big Apple', as all the tourists knew it. It was... well... big. Way bigger than the places he'd lived before. Hell, in a lot of ways it even made San Francisco look small, and density wise it seemed at least twice as crowded, and it was just... massive. Still, it was easy to get lost in a place like New York City, and that was exactly what Scott needed after his time on the West Coast. Even if he fucked up here with his powers it wasn't likely he'd even have to flee the city, it was far too big for anyone to really found him unless he was profoundly stupid. Since arriving he had found himself a small apartment and another part time job in a bar, but it still wasn't enough so he'd had to return to his old ways a bit, not that he minded overly much - there were plenty of people here who wouldn't even noticed a few little things missing.

The only things that really sucked about it was the fact that it was colder (most of the year), and the surfing sucked. There was exactly one legal surf beach. One. Singular. Solo. Uno. And not only that, it was... not great. The waves at Rockaway Beach were small, though he heard they got bigger after some storms and at certain times of the year, but... Well... it was the best and only thing available there, so that's where he went most of the time. There were some 'illegal' places, too, but the better places seemed fairly well patrolled, so Scott tended to avoid them.

Still, it was surfing, and even with crappy waves Scott could lose himself in the sensations and activity, relaxing, and forgetting about much of the world, so that's where Scott spent the majority of his day. After a couple hours out in the water he decided it was time for a little break in order to grab a drink and some food. That was another annoying part of his mutation, he was pretty much always hungry and often thirsty. Riding one last wave in, he hopped off close to shore and then tucked his board under his arm as he trotted out and onto the warm sand. There seemed to be quite a few people around and his eyes roamed over and beyond them, taking in the various vendors around and closer to the boardwalk. Ugh he thought as he saw the long lines and crowds around pretty much every one. He supposed he could zip home quickly and grab something, but...

Right then his eyes landed on a guy sitting by himself just a bit ahead of him on the beach. That guy had just reached into a cooler. A cooler filled with amazing things, like cold water. And there was no line in front of this guy!

Scott continued walking and paused in front of Devon, flashing him a wide, friendly smile. "Hey man," he said, glancing towards the water then back at the man's eyes. "Don't suppose you have some more water in there? I'll give ya twice what you paid. Just don't feel light fighting off the hordes over at the shop," he said with a nod of his chin towards the closest little stand. "Pretty please?" he asked, eyes twinkling with mirth at his begging and reached into his back pocket, undoing the velcro that kept his slim wallet safely inside.

"Hi," Devon started somewhat reluctantly, looking up at the blond beach-goer as he paused to loom above him. It was a park so anyone could come and go, but as far as beaches went it seemed to belong to people like this. He was golden tanned, lean, and looked like he lived on the sand. The surf board kind of confirmed it. Still, the guy seemed like he belonged on the west coast more than the east coast. Actor, model, student?

"Yeah, sure," he shrugged and sat up, opening up the cooler and tossing the guy a water. "A couple dollars is fine. They'll charge you four up there, easy." He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. He could clear up this beach and get more water real quick if he wanted to... But that'd likely ruin the beach feel even if he did clear it up as quickly as he caused it.

Canting his head slightly, he continued. "How's the water? I was a little surprised to see surfing in New York City but from the sound of it, you aren't a local so I take it you're just making do with what you have? I'm Devon by the way."

At the initial reluctant tone from Devon, Scotty just smiled brighter, turning up the goofy charm. Who could hate a face like that?! Well, in his experience more than a few... but generally it worked, or at least most of the time. Some of the time?

When the young man in front of him took Scott up on the offer his smile somehow widened even more. "Awesome!" he said as he finished fishing his wallet out of his pocket and yanked out a five dollar bill as Devon tossed him the water. He quickly reached up, nimbly catching it in his other hand and tucking it under his hand before handing over the bill to Devon as he slid the wallet back into his pocket. "Take it, man," he said, "and thanks. Anything's worth not having to stand in those lines." And truly, for Scott, lines were pretty much hell. So boring, and to his perceptions they seemed to last for hours, even if they were just minutes long - and waiting in a line for food, when you're already a hungry speedster? Literally the worst!

When asked the question, Scott took it as an invitation to set his board down and then he hunkered down into a squat that led to him sitting back on the sand, knees up high with his arms around them as he twisted the top off the water bottle and took several long gulps, making a happy sound as his lips finally left the plastic. "The water's great, thanks!" he said with a mischevious grin, before giving a small nod towards the ocean, "The water out there is just alright though. Not quite like what I'm used to, but I mean, as long as there's waves I'm happy, you know?"

"And I'm Scott," he added, holding out a hand towards the dark haired man, "Yeah, definitely a West Coaster here, northern California. How about you? You from around here?"

Devon took the five and shrugged, sticking it in the small sleeve on the side of the cooler. "You're welcome," he offered quickly as Scott took a seat and drank eagerly. He took the hand and shook it firmly back. "Nice to meet you, Scott."

He paused, studying the surfer carefully as he confirmed Devon's suspicions. "Me? I'm a Southern New Englandah," he played into the accent, awful that it was. His parents would have sent him to speech lessons if he'd spoken like that growing up. "Mass, Rhode Island, Connecticut and now New York. It's pretty common around here considering how small the states are. You can get to Boston in about 4 hours, less if you go when there isn't much traffic like later at night or early in the morning."

"But you, I would imagine California has far better waves and surfing? If you need waves to be happy, Scott, why move here?" Devon asked curiously.

"Nice to meet you, too!" Scott said with a smile, taking another swig of his water. Truly, he hadn't made many friends here in New York yet. He'd been laying pretty low, trying to find work, places to stay, and everything else (which was, of course, time mostly spent at the beach doing nothing aside from surfing and enjoying the sun).

When Devon played up his accent, Scott gave a small laugh and shook his head. "Yeah all you people on the east coast seem to get around a lot," he said, "Happens on the west coast, too, but mostly within the state it seems. Lots of LA to San Francisco and back and everything in between." He nodded as Devon spoke about it being only 4 hours to Boston, "Oh? Is it pretty cool there? I've never been." Four hours by car would mean far less by Scotty, but he wasn't really sure what there was to do there. Hopefully Devon had some good ideas, since the East Coast was so dense with cities and everything, there might be a lot to do for fun and Scott could take advantage of his speed to check those things out.

"Yeah, California is way better when it comes to waves and surfing," he said, "I heard it's a bit better further south, but I haven't been there yet." The question about why he moved out there, brought a rather small shrug as he looked away towards the water. "Things just... weren't so great out there," he said, pursing his mouth for a moment, "Decided it was time to get out of town and try something new. Just didn't think too far ahead about how the surfing was."

Not so great. Sounded personal. Devon nodded knowingly. It never helped to push though he supposed one day maybe people would him to push for more information. For now, he had to assume it didn't involve surfing at least.

"Ah," Devon's nod with a sad smile. "There's plenty to see. Any hurricanes come up the coast you'll want to head out to Montauk or further up like Cape Cod or Hampton Beach in New Hampshire. Old Orchard Beach is Maine is rife with tourists but nearby areas are great for exploring and with all the islands and such, I'm sure some..." He searched for the word and practically asked it, "Swells? Make for some good waves."

"New England and New York, the whole area has so much packed into it that it's very easy to do almost everything in a couple hours time. Fine dining, beaches, camping, hiking, skiing... Oh yeah, get ready for the snow," he laughed and took another drink of water. "Before you know it, all the heat complaints will simply become cold complaints."

"I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Time to branch out from surfing I guess," Devon said simply with a shrug. "I've never tried. I think I was on a sail boat once. That's common around here," he nodded again. "I'll swim here and there, but really as long as I'm outside doing something I'm pretty happy."

Scott was glad Devon didn't push too far, then again most people didn't. After all, what would Scott tell them? 'Oh hey, just decided to flee from crazy men in black who probably wanted to do all sorts of experiments'? Probably wouldn't go over so well, really, and Scott decided he should actually invent a proper lie that wouldn't sound so forced if he had to actually explain why a surfer boy from Cali would end up in NYC.

He wrinkled his nose at the mention of hurricanes. "Right," he said, "Always see those on the news. West Coast has it pretty good by comparison, no hurricanes, tornados, or generally other stuff from nature trying to kill you aside from earthquakes every few decades." Another small nod answered Devon's mention of the islands in Maine and the possible good surfing there, Scott might have to make a little weekend trip at there at some point to check it out and see what kind of trouble he could get up to - Or rather, non-trouble, he was pretty much done with trouble for the time being. Mostly...

"Ugh," Scott groaned at the mention of snow, melodramatically falling back onto the sand, arms splayed out, "I had almost forgotten about the snow. I mean, I love the snow. When I can like... go visit it up in the mountains, and then leave it at the end of the day like we could back home. How bad does it get in the city?" The icy streets and sidewalks would truly suck for a speedster like Scott. He'd still be way faster than other people, but you couldn't exactly sprint on ice, even with his rather supernatural agility.

"But yeah, there's plenty more than surfing. I guess," he said, pursing his lips as he sat back up and shrugged before flashing Devon another grin, "Maybe I'll have to pick up skateboarding again or something. What else do people do for fun outside here?"

Devon laughed, "Plenty more besides earthquakes too the way they talk about it here. Drought, wild fires, mud slides, severe heat, and the worst traffic possible. We rarely get a hurricane up here, but when we do it usually causes some trouble." He paused, "... tornadoes are pretty rare too and not as strong usually. That's the midwest's problem."

It was difficult to say if he loved such storms. Torandoes reminded him of his parents and his last day of high school of course. Yet he still reveled in their power and energy. He loved to be outside in them, marveling in their majesty. They created quite the manic period however and eventually he'd come back down. If he wasn't careful he could make the storm worse, and if he wasn't careful, he'd be worse for the wear after.

"But the snow," Devon laughed, "We can get a lot of snow. Some winters like this past one were only a couple of small storms. The year before that? It was an epic disaster. They had no place to put it in Boston. Two lane roads became one for weeks." He laughed a little harder, "People hearing us must think we're crazy to be talking about snow on a day like this."

His blue eyes reflected his mirth. He hadn't laughed that good naturedly in a while. It wasn't that there wasn't joy in his life, but some of the things he saw day in and out certainly tempered the outward cheer. Joy and Sadness were clearly at the controls then.

"We're an adaptable bunch up here," Devon nodded, his laughter quieting. "When it's warm we throw cook outs and head to the beach. When it's cooling off we throw carnivals, make apple pie and go hiking to check out the leaves. And in the winter we snow board, ski, and throw parties. That's what's nice about getting snowed in: people throw parties. Think of New England as a chance to learn some other sports and become more social."

Scott wrinkled his nose at the talk about the drought, wild fires and everything and he then he gave a small shrug. "We don't really get the drough or wild fires much in Half Moon bay," he said, "and the heat isn't bad by the ocean. And the traffic wasn't bad if you didn't have a car. All in all it wasn't so bad." He flashed Devon a toothy grin before taking a long swig of the water he'd gotten from the other young man.

He wrinkled his nose again at the talk of all the snow. "Who cares what the people think?" he asked, still smiling, "I never do. And I really hope we don't have a winter like that this year. Is there even any good place to go snowboarding around here? I mean, that isn't like 10 hours away?" Scott hoped so, though he hadn't bothered to really check into it yet.

"Who's this 'we' that throws the cookouts?" he asked, "Because I pretty much eat all the time. Like. All. The. Time. So I should probably make friends with all these 'we' people you're talking about so I can start looking for these cookouts. Plus I'll need to know where are the parties are in the winter so I can find places to stay warm that aren't my shitty illegal apartment slash closet."

"So what do you do?" he asked curiously, "I mean, when you're not at the beach and stuff."

"I was using the collective 'we'," Devon explained, his brow crossing a bit in bewildered amusement at the west coast surfer. He got the sudden impression anything he offered was about to get taken and possibly taken for granted, if not taken advantage of. There was a vague, blurry line between free loader and free floater and right now it was lost in the flotsam at the rocky point of the beach.

"I guess I don't know too many here in the city yet, but I know some. No big parties or anything yet," he shrugged, "But the summer's just getting started. I typically tend to the singular hobbies anyway." He glanced around, "Which I'm guessing come to the beach to hang out alone on my day off betrays."

He chuckled a moment, "I'm going to school at NYU but I work a lot of part-time work, temp job stuff. I also volunteer a lot, even pulling in a small stipend from them now for all my time. Guess volunteering pays off more than I thought it would."

Devon looked out over the ocean a moment, sighing and laughing. "I feel like I'm supposed to offer you something or something with the way you keep smiling at me." He looked back, dark brow narrowed over his sky blue eyes. "What are you after? ...besides water? I'm sure I can point you to some snowboarding this winter, sure."

Scott just flashed his grin again as Devon mentioned it being the collective we, and he gave him a 'no duh' look as he shook his head. "I was joking, man," he said, "but, I mean, I pretty much never turn down food. So is your giant bee collective or whatever has room, look me up. I'm happy to help out or just be some arm candy." He gave a little wink and laughed again, making it fairly difficult to figure out just how serious he was about any of it.

"So you're new to the city, too, then?" he asked when Devon mentioned not knowing many in the city, "Or wait, did you already tell me that?" Sometimes it felt like something he just heard was like a week ago thanks to the way time passed by him, and he sometimes felt like he forgot some important details now and again because of that.

He perked up a bit when Devon mentioned school at NYU. "Cool," he said, "I... Never did so great in school." Scott gave a little shrug, "I just could never really sit still very long, you know?" His mutation made it nearly impossible to sit down and learn that way, though he'd at least come a long ways with some of the more interesting subjects - being able to read a book way faster than anybody else definitely helped, but if it couldn't hold his attention the whole thing was a lost cause for sure.

Scott laughed when Devon mentioned offering him something because of the way Scott kept smiling at him, shaking his head a bit. "No, no," he said, "I don't need anything. I've been told I can just be overly friendly sometimes. Not much one for respecting personal boundaries sometimes I guess..." He trailed off with another shrug that was only a little apologetic. "Mostly just after a distraction, I guess," he said, "Been here all day. Plus, you know, yesterday." And the day before that, but... whatever.

"You definitely are far more friendly than I'm accustomed to," Devon said with a slow nod and a wide grin. Scott wasn't rude but he was definitely a lot all at once and it was a bit overwhelming for Devon. As much as he was growing comfortable speaking with others or finding himself the focus of attention through work at Sanctuary, the day to day was still difficult. Devon the volunteer, Devon the worker, Devon the student, Devon the mutant... Those were all different.

Devon being Devon, now that was hard.

"Yep new to the city. Liking NYU. Enjoying learning of the city," he slowly nodded. "I'm not surprised you have trouble sitting still. You seem fairly energetic and almost pushy in how friendly you are." Devon knew the type that needed to be liked, that rode on the wave of personal attachment. It was a mania of the more narcissistic or a mechanism of the typically depressed.

"What will you be doing here in New York then? Have a job and a place to stay yet?" Devon asked, honestly concerned. He couldn't not ask. Everyone deserved a roof over their head and a hot meal at dinner.

At first, Devon's comment made Scott think he might have pushed a little too hard. He certainly couldn't be a bit overly friendly at times, especially with how impatient he was sometimes, and it might seem to him like hours had passed since he broached a particular subject with someone in reality it could be only minutes. His forehead creased slightly as a small frown landed on his face, but then he was all smiles again as he decided that he was being played with rather than mocked.

"What are you studying?" he asked when Devon mentioned being new to NYU, "And uhh yeah. Energetic is a good word for it. Sorry, I know it can be like... pushy or whatever." His mouth twisted a bit and he gave a small shrug as his emotions yoyo'd briefly, but it quickly passed once again.

"I donno," he said when asked about what he'd be doing in New York, "I got a part time job helping out at a bar kinda on the Manhattan outskirts. Don't know all the neighborhoods yet. But, I mean, its something at least, and doesn't start until well after its gotten dark. And I've got a place. Kinda, I mean, I'm pretty sure its not exactly a legal apartment and mostly just some dude's basement that he rents out, and I'm gonna need a lot of blankets in the winter, but at least its mine, right?"

Devon was admittedly hesitant when bringing up his degree to strangers or new acquaintances. They always asked why, assuming you had issues. It was true for many, the desire to better understand themselves or certain behaviors drew many to the practice. He was no different.

"Psychology, almost done," Devon nodded slowly and sighed. "A couple classes and a few general eds and I'm done. And don't worry about it; I can be rather introverted and private so social people come off more intensely I guess."

"And good about the place. I think housing situations like that are common here. The job is cool; bar work is nice especially if you can get good tips right? Not that I've never snuck into a bar, but I don't actually turn 21 until the 23rd. Can I get a free drink if I come in?" he laughed quietly.

"My days free are pretty rare, but I figure get out of downtown when I can. You must have most day time free then?" Devon asked, somewhat rhetorically as he looked out over the water. "That's pretty nice."