The sound of her fiddle was sweet agony in the ears of the crowd that gathered around her one evening in the streets of the Big Apple. Warm air drifted around folks to carry the sound further along, and the sound of folding money and change dropping into her violin case was the perfect accompaniment to the chords she coaxed from her trusty extension, Betsy. The gypsy woman stood atop a milk crate that she had decorated with a sparkly cloth that had "Gypsy" embroidered across the front facade of the object. As she picked up speed with skill, the vibrations would touch the souls of her audience members, and she would glance around under mostly lowered lashes, contemplating lifting a few valuables off of people through telekenesis that would keep her fed for a few days longer... But no... She still felt guilty for stealing a mere, ten dollars. The money the man had given her... well... She ended up giving it to someone who needed it bad, and it still hadn't made it feel better.

Not that panhandling on the street was any better.... But at least she was earning her money honestly, right? Martha finished the song to the sound of applause, and money just started raining into the violin case, and then the crowd dispersed with her graciously bowing to those around her. She flopped her well padded rump down on the milk crate and started to count the folding money.. Feeling grateful when she saw there was at least fifty dollars, not including change. Holy crap! Figuring it was best to pick up and leave before risking getting mugged, she dumped the money into her pocket, gently put away her violin, and headed to the nearest fast food place for a cheap meal, starving because she hadn't eaten in another three days after giving the money to someone who looked far hungrier than she was.

Richard was walking the streets, a cup of coffee in his hand, when he heard the music. It was captivating, it was enchanting, it was beautiful. It plucked at the strings of ones heart, the tune evoking first one emotion then another as the melody morphed in a complex symphony. Richard was transfixed. All to soon it seemed it came to an end. The crowds thinned and drifted away to reveal a slender olive skinned woman in her early twenties, dressed flamboyantly and standing on a milk crate over which was draped a shimmering cloth with the word "Gypsy" embroidered onto it. Richard dropped his contribution in the lady's violin case and headed onward. He was always curious as to the backgrounds of street performers, what were their stories? What stories they could probably tell!

By the time Richard turned the corner and looked back the attractive violin player had already vanished, the milk crate she had stood on was once again just a bare milk crate. Shrugging his shoulders Richard moved on. He was feeling peckish and proceeded to wonder around until he say a place that looked like it served good food. He was not the only one with that idea. The hole in the wall place was busy, there were no free tables.

Richard spied a table with an empty seat and made a beeline for it.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" the lady at the table shook her head without looking up.

Richard eased himself in and started looking at the menu. As she looked up he recognized her as the talented violin player from the street. Their eyes met for a moment and Richard smiled and nodded.

"That was amazing playing if you don't mind me saying. I was passing by and was captivated."

He blushed slightly and looked down for a moment. "I am Richard by the way."

He had genuinely enjoyed the playing and would love to hear more, at the same time he did not want to appear creepy in any way. Would it be polite to hold out a hand for a handshake? or was that not done here? He decided to play it safe.

The one thing that she had trouble getting out of her mindset was that "Us, and them" mindset. Okay, so he was clearly not Romany, and, gosh, that was bound to happen when one left the community the way she had. She treated the situation indifferently despite telling herself it was a no longer "us and them" kind of thing. She was shoving food in her mouth in a very unladylike fashion, because... well... she lived in her car, she didn't feel comfortable yet at the mansion, and she was living off of pennies right at the moment. She was actually mid chew when he began to talk to her. Mid chew. So there she sat, a golf ball sized lump on the side of her cheek from the massive bite of food, listening to him compliment her on her fiddle playing, and all she could do was... nod and chew, as a means of thank you. She eventually swallowed the lump of food and said, "Uh.. thanks... Richard... I'm Martha."

She had a slightly southern sounding drawl, from Kentucky. Her eyes met his and she took another bite. He might notice the shaking of her fingers as she tried to get some food in her. He might also notice that she looked like she could use a hot shower after standing in the sun for an hour.

>"Uh.. thanks... Richard... I'm Martha."

Why did he always pick the worst time to start a conversation. He always felt a little bad catching people mid chew. Come to think of it she was eating rather quickly. Was she uncomfortable with him? No, Richard dismissed the idea, she had been eating fast before he even sat down. She looked like she was wolfing down food, like, almost like she had not eaten for a while. Come to think of it she did appear a little gaunt. Not slender as in build or thin as in ones current state of fitness but gaunt, generally caused by not eating enough in the short term. Perhaps she had fallen on hard times?

"Sorry, caught you mid chew." Said Richard apologetically.

"Um, are you ok? You are shaking. Has it been a while since you ate?" Richard was an open book sort of guy. people generally had no problems reading his intentions from his face. There had been a time not so long ago where he had literally couch crashed for about 5 months. Sleeping on couches in different peoples homes. those had been hard times, and he had survived on the kindness of strangers. Pay it forward they said.

"If you need a place to shower or crash for a while....." He paused "One caveat though, I live in a.... mutant friendly apartment block, you either have to be a mutant or pro-mutant to live there..so... there is that.. if you are ok with that and you need it, the offer is there."

Richard dearly hoped that he did not sound creepy, said in a different tone of voice and under different circumstance that could have come out screaming creepy and stalker. The look of genuine concern on Richards face usually put those impressions to flight. He was practical, and was always happy to help those in need.

"I'm fine, just hungry. I coulda ate at the mansion but I don't wanna impose." Even though the food was free. She honestly felt guilty taking showers and eating food there, so she only ate there once a day and then tried to earn money for more food and to save up for a camper or something she could live in. "I don't wanna impose and I don't wanna be in a house or apartment anyways, just tryin' to get a camper so I have my own place and I can take it wherever I wanna. I feel weird being a charity case." All the excuses she made just to be away from crowds and here she was in a damn crowd and entertaining a damn crowd, she felt kind of overwhelmed. She stuffed several fries into her mouth and dropped eye contact, her cheeks kind of red at the moment as she pigged out. She really should not be eating just one meal a day, it was taking a toll on her for sure.

She stuffed more food into her mouth, only to find that she was out of food after that and still kind of hungry. But she wasn't about to spend more money on clogging her arteries if she didn't have to. She'd eaten. Maybe she needed some veggies in her life? When she looked up again at Richard, she had an embarrassed look on her face that he was watching her wolf down the food that she'd eaten. She grabbed for a napkin and wipe her face. Ugh.

Richard did not know what was came over him, but it did.

"Listen Martha, I get that you don't want to impose but this is going too far. You are malnourished, I don;t mean to sound rude but when was the last time you had a good nights rest? or a shower? When I first arrived in the United States, I spent 5 months sleeping on peoples couches while I looked for a job and place to live. I tried to repay them. Some accepted but most refused and told me to "pay it forward" so this is me paying it forward. You are not imposing, There is a spare room in the complex you can kip in, and shower, and while you are doing that I will cook you food that is far more nourishing than fast food. What say you?"

He honestly did not know where that came from. Was he feeling like a protective older brother? No she was practically the same age as him. Was it pity? Dear lord no, He hated pity with a vengeance. Was it affection? He was not sure, probably not, at least not currently. Yes she had a certain beauty about her, but firstly he hardly knew her and Richard was a heart person, and would not just "go for someone" because they looked nice on the outside. Secondly she was acting currently acting like a porcupine, one that had its quills raised. Perhaps it was frustration, seeing someone with a talent and potential yet living on the edge of starvation treating themselves cruelly all because of fear, fear of imposing but there was more to it than that. Richard might not be the most perceptive person in the world but even he could see it. There was much that Martha held inside. The question was, would she let him at least help her up, would she let him in, even a little?

She sighed and dropped her food on the table, "Why does everyone think I want help?! I don't! I don't want to live in the mansion, I don't want to live with people, I just want to live by myself where nobody is telling me to cook or clean, take care of my damn brothers, do this, do that, get married! I don't want to rely on a man for my money! I don't want help." She was lashing out, not necessarily at him but in general. "And NO! I am NOT okay!!! I live in my f***ing car! Do you think I enjoy sleeping in my car?! I don't! And my car?! It keeps breaking down on the highway!! I hate it! I hate being hungry! I hate being alone!" Yeah, she just said it, "And yes, I am HUNGRY! GOD!" With that, she grumped her way out of the fast food place and to her car where she could curl up in the back seat and just... not think about it anymore.

 Richard sat back and listened patiently to the outburst. As she turned away and stomped out of the diner, Richard actually started smiling. He had seen her heart, he had looked past the words and caught a glimpse of what lied beneath. A porcupine with quills raised yes, but a rather lovable porcupine none the less. Richard paid for both of them and left a generous tip behind. He walked exited the diner and started strolling the streets, not quite sure what he was looking for but he knew that he would know it when he saw it.
 
 He found Martha's car less than a block away. One car that looked like it had some miles on it and could use some TLC, check. One car that looked like someone was living out of it and sleeping on the back seat and had been so for a while, check. One car that had a fuming lady in the back, check. It would probably not do any good to inform said madam that she looked rather adorable when she was mad. No definitely not the right time.
 
 Richard knocked on the window and patiently waited until it screeched down. He smiled at Martha, it was a warm smile that started from the eyes and radiated to the rest of his face, a genuine smile.
 
 "Listen Martha, I really don't want or expect anything from you. All I wanted to say was that I am heading home now to cook a meal for three, I figured you are hungry enough to eat for two. Dinner should be ready in about an hour. Here is my address." He gently placed a napkin on the seat next to her. It had his phone number and the address of his apartment block and his apartment number.
 
 "There is guest parking for free there by the way."
 
 And with that he walked away. He had a meal to cook and a spare bed to make.

He walked upon her, she was about to fall asleep, the greasy food wasn't sitting well with her. She rolled down the window, he gave her his address despite her telling him that she didn't want help, damn it! He would probably notice something odd about the car.... It was immaculate. The body shone with a good cleaning, the tires were shiny, the inside of the car was clean... The back seat was set up like a tiny bedroom. He would be able to see the little plastic set of drawers with a battery operated lamp on top on one side next to her pillows, and there was a pretty, colorful patchwork quilt that she lay on.

"Leave me alone," she said, and the sound of her sniffle would probably drift to his ear. She rolled the window back up and stubbornly pressed into the back support. She didn't know if he actually understood her plight. After he walked off, she sighed and got out, then got into the front seat. It was probably a few hours later, and it was dark, and the streets were starting to get scary. She usually headed back to the mansion parking lot before it was even dark, but she had fallen asleep because of the queasiness.

Martha made it to the address in question after breaking down three or four times. She pulled in as the engine started to knock and smoke, and she realized that she wouldn't be moving the car any time soon when it stalled halfway into the parking spot. She got out and attempted to push the heavy thing the rest of the way... by herself... But it kept rolling back on her. She hit the horn repeatedly at that point, put the car into park, and gave up.

When Richard returned home, he set to work. He was going to cook 白斬雞, otherwise known as white cut chicken. Essentially this involves boiling a whole chicken for about an hour to an hour and a half with large chunks of ginger and some salt. This creates a clear yet rich bone broth as almost all of the flavor and nutrients from the chicken have been leached out into the broth. The chicken is then lightly coated with toasted sesame oil cut into small pieces and served with a dipping sauce.

Richard set the chicken on to boil and set the rice cooker going. At the back of his mind he was wagering there was a 80/20 chance she would not show up for a second lunch, and a 50/50 chance she would not show up at all, period. He liked encouraging people and helping where he could. He already had a few ideas about a camper, how to build one inexpensively that would last, but that could come later. Richard was the type of person who could very well wear a sign that read "Will work for interesting problems", he enjoyed challenges like these.

As he made the bed in the spare room, he idly wondered to himself what was Martha's story? It seemed like there was a lot of family stuff going on. Was it like in Chinese culture, where the children are expected to take care of the parents, or in some cases the parents taught the children that they were indebted to them for life? Chinese culture was heavy on relationships, it was what held them together, but there were also plenty of unhealthy ones. Now the dipping sauce. Richard whistled as he diced garlic, green onions, cilantro and ginger, mixed in a little salt and poured a little boiling oil over it to flash fry the ingredients. The flavor it unlocked was amazing. Finally as accompaniment Napa cabbage fried with garlic, oyster sauce and a little chicken broth. There it was done. Now to set the table and wait.

And wait. After about an hour and a half of waiting he figured she was not coming. Still she might come for dinner and Richard had already eaten lunch, so he left the table set and went about sketching out his plans to build a camper.

It was about 4-5 hours later that he heard a knock. The sky had gone dark. Richard was about ready for dinner. The soup had been brought back to a simmer and the smell filled the house. He went to open the door and there stood Martha. Wait was she crying.

"Martha, come in." He said ushering her into his house and closing the door.
"Are you ok?" Did she need a hug? Tissues? Food? Richard was not quite sure what to do next.

"No, my car died halfway into the parking space and it's not coming back... The engine is smoking and knocking and won't turn over. I was supposed to go back to the mansion before dark but I fell asleep and was scared someone would break in and do something to me or something." She had reached her limit for sure this time. Between being scared and being very alone, being hungry and being tired, the car dying was the last straw. She didn't go in very far, she ended up leaning against the door and just bawling like her heart was broken. They were most certainly not crocodile tears meant to gain sympathy, the girl really was just sobbing her heart out.

"I couldn't take it anymore though. Momma kept trying to make me marry some gypsy boy because when a gypsy girl is over twenty, not married, and has no baby, she is a spinster! And I was always taking care of my brothers in a tiny ass camper like it was some grand old castle, and even if I did try to find a good gypsy boy, my brothers would chase him off. I can't go back if I wanted to now, I will be shunned, especially if they know I have powers! So I don't know where to go, my car f---ing died, and I am tired and dirty and hungry and I hate it. And I am sorry, I don't even know you, so I don't know why I am venting to you!" She just spilled it out like it was nothing but tea to spill.

God, everything was a mess. "And I would be hated for being around Gorgers too much!"

When Richard opened the door, he was not sure what he was expecting, but he was not expecting that.
Matha leant against the doorway and started crying.

>"No, my car died halfway into the parking space and it's not coming back...
The flood started and showed no signs of abaiting. Richard lead her in and closed the door behind them, giving them some privacy.
He offered her a box of tissues and a hug. He held her, not saying anything, allowing her to just let it all out.

>"...And I would be hated for being around Gorgers too much!"

The sobs quietened and stopped. "Hey now, you are tired and hungry, come ,eat."

Richard led her to the dining room and soon finished heating up the food.
That was another reason he cooked what he did. It was one of thise dishes that did not taste any different when it was warmed up or when it was fresh.
Mmmmmm nothing could beat fresh home coocked food, if he did say so himself. Martha seemed to be enjoying it.
After they had started tucking Richard gave thought to what Martha had said.

"Martha, as for your car, I am an engineer by trade and I would be happy to see if I can help you fix it, if you would like.
You mentioned earlier in the diner about wanting a camper. To me that sounds like a fun project, and I am the sort that like challenges. Will work for interesting problems
 would be an apt description." Richard smiled and continued.
"I have some ideas on building a camper inexpensively if you are interested." He left the invitation open. Truth be told the idea had piqued his interest.
Even if she wanted to buy herself one, Richard was more than likely to try to build one anyway. It would be fun!
"I am sorry to hear about your family, I cannot imagine what it was like, is like."

Sure Richard grew up in a place where mutants were shunned and treated like dirt but he had not discovered his powers until he was away from home and so was spared the pain and difficulity that he would have otherwise endured.
Richard smiled "It's fine, you needed to vent, thank you for trusting me enough to do so to me, I am honoured."
"The spare room is yours for as long as you need it, I put fresh sheets on the bed and fresh towels out in case the need arose."

Martha seemed to be a good person in a bad place. Her situation tugged on his heart and he was more than happy to help in any way he could.
"Eat as much as you need and get some rest, we can talk more in the morning when you are rested and refreshed."

He talked more than she did for the moment. She ate, the food was good, and she was stuffing food in her mouth the way she has the hamburger she wished she had never eaten, she was so sick of burgers anyways. She ate and ate and ate as he talked. She thought she was a talker but Richard out-talked her any day. He wanted to fix her car. There was no fixing that car... He was even talking about building her a camper, she blinked at that... "Well, I am getting a camper from the mansion, I guess." Of course, she had to accept the offer. "But maybe one day you can help design a tiny house or somethin'?" She at least threw him something for his efforts.

And god, she was eating and eating and feeling pretty crappy. "The car ain't worth fixin', it's older than both of us combined, dude. It's a miracle it still ran as long as it did." And it was true, how it stayed alive as long as it had was a mystery. Probably because it had been well maintained for most of it's life? She didn't know.