Celeste didn't move, unsure of the best course of action. She wasn't a fighter, at least she was never trained to be. She knew how to hit people with flares, but that was about it. She dug in her purse and grabbed her taser out. Maybe she would have a chance to finally use it? Who knew. She held it hard as she finished a recharge of her powers. 

She nodded, noting his politeness despite the air of battle. He had even said please. How gentlemanly. She took it and held it with one arm. He may have noticed what looked like dust sparkling in light if he paid any attention, but most likely he would have missed it. He did have a lot of other things on his mind. Plus, those other guys were closing in fast. She squeaked a little as she watched the guy hit the ground, hard. It was a squeak of fright and of cheer. It was a strange noise.

She carefully watched the scene pan out - one of the guys got behind Elliott and managed to get him locked. Her initial blast apparently didn't do much for the guy. They were running up, probably going to begin stabbing Elliott. Celeste looked at her taser and the helmet and took a deep breath. She had to do something. She left out a charge into the back of the guy she initially hit - this caused him to fall to his knees and sprayed vomit - unfortunately, it looked like it managed to get to Elliott's feet. The other guys looked towards him before continuing their run. It gave Celeste just enough time to get behind them. They were so busy focusing on the big green man they hadn't thought to keep an eye on the girl. They were back to three guys left, at least - one holding Elliott and the other two running towards him. 

She had began recharging already but she lifted the helmet and smashed it into one of the guys heads as hard as she could. It seemed to make him tumble sideways and a huge purple spot was already popping up on the side of his head. She hit him again, this time aiming for the temple. And one more time for extra measure, and he managed to fall down. Oh God, what if she killed him? She had never killed someone before. 

One guy holding him, one guy at him, ready to strike. He seemed to be taunting him, but Celeste couldn't quite hear. Instead, she came up behind him and whacked him in the back of his head with the helmet. Several dents were alreayd made in the helmet and a big one with a smear of blood came off with the next hit. He turned around quickly and tried to slash her - he managed to get a little cut into her stomach, but mostly missed. She smashed it into his cheek and he finally tumbled to the ground. What if she killed him? What if she killed two people? Double charges. Ughhh. She didn't really have time to think but she saw the other guys arms coming up from underneath Elliott. Maybe she could break his arms with the helmet? She took a quick swing, probably doing more damage to Elliott before doing another one. 

The second one seemed to do the trick, because a gross crack rang out and the guy screamed. Celeste didn't feel too good. She never beat anyone up before. Ugh...

It isn't possible to undo strikes in baseball. You can't unwrite the past. The best you can do is work with the count. Maybe you get a base hit, maybe better. Maybe you get a few balls, and make it to first on a walk. As Celeste took down one, then another man, Elliott had to admit that the girl had a few balls. He hardly noticed the vomit on his shoes. He was impressed.

Elliott shifted, and tried to break the grasp as the man behind him altered his focus into her-- the helmet smacked him in the cheek. He closed his eyes and grunted. He'd already been hit once or twice while immobilized. A bruise was swelling in his eye from one of the knife guys punches. But being hit with his own helmet hurt in an entirely different way. He would have snapped at her about it, but when he opened his eyes again, he realized she had scored a good hit on the man. He was free. Elliott stared down at the guy on the ground behind him in disbelief.

"... Home run?" He asked.

The man had not expected her to bash them with a motorcycle helmet. Those helmets are made to protect heads-- irony was what that was. His eyes fell to the helmet in question, and narrowed. Elliott turned, and kicked the guy behind him in the stomach to let out the sudden annoyance on a much more appropriate target than the alleged damsel who had caused these men distress.

"You okay?" He said. His tone was one of concern. The annoyed look had vanished from his face. Before she could answer, he snapped at the nearest thug who was trying to get up. "Stay down! All of you." Voice back on the sincere setting, he turned back to waitress girl. "Let's get out of here. I think I owe you a cup of coffee."

Celeste did her best given the situation. She had no fighting experience. She had no way to really defend herself or even attack someone, besides her mutation. And that wasn't the most reliable, apparently. Of course, maybe he was wearing something heavier underneath his jacket. Could be a bullet vest or something. It was pretty easy to block radiation, after all. In either case, he was down and the rest were now. Dead? Who knows. She didn't think they were dead, at least now that she was looking at them. Most seemed knocked out, the guy who held Elliott was in some serious pain due to his presumably cracked arm. 

She had closed her eyes every time she made a hit with the helmet, so she hadn't  done a very good job of aiming. His bruising eye proved that. She needed to get some ice to put on that, that had to be painful... She immediately felt terrible for hitting Elliott in her throwing fits. On the plus side, the guy was on the ground now. The helmet was thoroughly damaged though, not to mention bloody. Pretty gross, really. 

She brushed some of her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her adrenaline had finally weared off a little, it seemed. He said home run and she didn't really understand what he meant, at least not at first, "What?" She asked, her voice a bit shaky and the word coming out a little squeaky. She threw the charge she had built up onto the guy with the broken arm, which immediately made him begin vomitting. "Buttface," she muttered. She already had it charged, so she mine as well not waste it. 

>> "You okay?"

Was she okay? She wasn't sure. She didn't have much time to process, though, because the next thing that happened was him yelling at them to stay on the ground. She looked at the helmet, a little shaky, "So, uh, you'll definitely need to either buy a new one or get someone to fix this." Her voice still came out a little frightened. She looked at his swelling eye and winced, "We need to get some ice on that, it'll help the pain. Maybe reduce swelling." she whispered, standing on her tippy toes to get a better look. 

She looked out at the men on the ground and nodded, "Yeah, let's get out of here." She motioned for him, unsure of really were to go but she began walking fast up the street.

When she shot the man with the light flash, Elliott thought to himself 'Well then. Do not make waitress girl mad.' He didn't really get that it was radiation causing the reaction. All he got from it was that maybe, she caused physical pain or vomiting with her mutation. Hell of a mutation. If she were one of those x-men who use code names, they could call her... Ralph. Chuck was good, too. You could say "What's up, Chuck?" And then everyone would vomit at the pun. The girl did win points for the butt face comment, though.

His focus again dropped to the helmet, and how wrecked it was. He'd already dealt with that tangle of emotions, and she'd come out on top. Elliott opened his mouth to assure her he didn't hold anything against her, but then she winced at his bruises and got closer to him while talking about ice. And his eyes for a moment met hers.

It's nice, having no visible pupils. Just a sea of red. When you make eye contact, people don't really know if you're looking at their nose, or staring them in the eye. He looked away quickly, ducking his head to play it off as an embarrassed brown-against-green blush rather than something else. Why had he been counting things against her, earlier? That had been rather rude, hadn't it? She really had pretty eyes.

"Uhm, yeah." He grunted agreement to the girl in tippy toes. "Might be good." Ice. Coffee. Away. Shame on me. He was not using her saving his butt from those men just to ask her out to coffee, but suddenly it kind of felt that way to him. Even if he'd asked before she'd showed concern about his dumb bruised face.

He cast one final look at the men, before he joined her in exiting stage right. One of them let out a long groan that carried. At least they knew for certain that one wasn't dead. Elliott used that thought to drag him out of that awkwardly embarrassed hole he sometimes fell into when talking to a pretty girl. God, but he could be dumb. He had to wonder if adrenaline affected hormones on some level.

As they walked, he glanced at her. "So, hey. You just saved me. Thank you. I don't think I even know your name." Name tags exist at diners, certainly, but it's a little awkward checking them-- unless you've got no problems staring at random chests. He personally hadn't. He also wasn't certain if he'd introduced himself.

"I'm Elliott," he said helpfully.

Celeste examined Elliott's damaged eye carefully for a moment, until he turned away and agreed with her. She figured they had made some eye contact but was not entirely sure since he only had red eyes. That made it pretty hard to see. In either case, she was mainly focused on the swelling eye he had. They really needed to get some ice on it - it would definitely help. Hopefully, anyways. 

She gave him a smile as he looked away, though. It was a cute thing to do and... Was he blushing? She wasn't sure but she gave him a smile either way. "It will be, at least, hopefully." It couldn't hurt, that was for sure. Plus, the cold might make it feel more soothing instead of throbbing pain or something along those lines. Poor guy.

She looked towards one of the groaning men as she was walking. They weren't dead, which was good but slightly disappointing.

If they did this to them, who knows who else they might try to harass or even have harassed? She made a mental note to remember their faces so she could look some stuff up online. Maybe she could send some information over to the police through an anonymous tip or something. 

She perked a brow, snapping back to reality, "Oh, well, I mean, you saved me too. I think we're pretty equal." She smiled towards him, and then gave him a playful nudge, "We make a good fighting machine! Kind of, minus the whole hitting you with the helmet thing...", She was still walking a bit fast but mainly trying to get away from the scene that had unfolded.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Elliott, I'm Celestina. You can call me Celeste, though. Not as much as a mouthful." Why was that her signature line when she introduced herself? She really needed to get a better line over than 'my name is too long, call me this.' 

Equal, huh? He smirked at her and went with the nudge, rather than away (so she wouldn't get shoved back, or meet a hard wall of resistance and get hurt). A martial artist is self aware about those sorts of things. The last thing they want is to hurt someone unintentionally.

She went on talking about them being a good fighting team, and her hitting him with his helmet. Elliott found himself laughing. A tiny laugh, but it ballooned out of his stomach in a good way. "That was you?" She'd hit him with the helmet? "I thought one of the guys had unleashed on me. That explains why his fists were so hard." Her interest in his black eye suddenly made a whole lot of sense. The fact that she was concerned about him because of something she potentially could have done didn't lessen the fact that she cared enough to care. ... In a way, that went back to martial artists and being responsible about how one acts. But only just.

He hadn't quite gotten to wondering if she blamed him for the whole debacle starting how it had, but her comments erased any thoughts before they could bloom. Nope, she didn't blame him for being green and then seeing a green man and suddenly seeing red. That was probably for the best. He wasn't sure what his reaction to that would have been.

He shared his name, and she shared hers.

"Celeste. That's a pretty name." He found himself saying. In a bout of self-awareness on how that just might have been construed as flirting, he attempted to remedy the whole situation with a joke. "Least with your name, you don't get people making jokes about the kid from that Spielberg movie, E.T." He held up a finger and imitated the muppet alien from the movie. "Ell-i-ott." He couldn't make his finger glow. Nor could he make candy levitate. "My parents," he explained with a cheesy smile. "Had a sense of humor."

Celeste put her hand on her small cut on her side. It didn't sting until just now, but she took a quick look. It was a little bloody but had already clotted up. It just stung now. She sighed and realized they were pretty lucky. They both managed to take out several bigots, relatively quickly,  too. Lucky. So very lucky.

She gave him a weak smile and a glance towards where the men where. They were out of site and they were probably far enough away that they wouldn't bother them. Whew. She glanced at him and giggled at him laughing but quickly turned serious once she realized he didn't know it was her. Why was he laughing about that? What if she had hurt him? She turned a deep red and fiddled with her hands, "Yeahhh... It was me, I'm sure. I mean... I've never beat someone up with a helmet before." Or anyone in anyway, really. She had given some people some doses of rad, of course, but she had never actually physically attacked someone. First for everything, right? She gave him a nervous giggle, "But uh, yeah, that's why his hands was really hard." 

Her adrenaline finally going down and her fight and flee response finally subsiding, she couldn't believe the audicity of some people. Bigots were plenty, even in New York City. They had handled it well enough, though. He seemed like he was a pretty experienced fighter - she would have been screwed if she was by herself. She was lucky he was there, "I'm glad you ended up getting off the bus at the same spot as me, I would have been toast without you." She gave him a smile. 

She smiled and blushed and looked away. One thing she had to be grateful for was her name - her parents had chosen one good thing right, at least. 

She perked a brow and then laughed after a couple seconds. It took a moment for her to get the joke but it was silly, "Really? Did they actually name you that way because of your X-Gene?" She shook her head. Parents were funny things. Terrible, sometimes, but at least they had some funny moments in better circumstances. She shook her head one more time, "Well, you don't look like E.T. so pfft. Anyways, Elliott's a good name."  She had never met a bad Elliott. Of course, this was probably the only Elliot she had met. 

There's such a thing as good luck. It had been good luck that they'd been on the same bus, and left at the same time. For the both of them. Though if he hadn't had someone to protect, maybe he wouldn't have let himself get drawn out into a fight. Things like fighting against uneven odds are to be avoided, when you can help it. Far better to fight unfair. He returned her smile at the sentiment, all friendly zipper-like teeth and all.

"Same," Elliott said. The feeling was mutual.

Her reaction to his comment, was cute. Of course.. How could he have expected anything else? His attempt at mitigating the flattery achieved the desired result; Celeste laughed.

Her comment brought about a good question. Should he share what he knew about his past, share what he thought he knew, or share what he'd recently learned, that had given him so many more questions than answers. He opted for a reply that wouldn't make him sound crazy, but was a little of all three.

"I'm not sure," Elliott said. "I never asked them." He'd been adopted. His real name, theoretically, could have been anything from Klick'tik'cthu-rekt 'ck to Bob. Or it could have been Elliott. There was no reason to assume he was extraterrestrial, just because of wild theories. A small smile tilted his mouth as he glanced at her. "Glad you approve."

He quickly moved on. "Reckon I'm glad I don't look like E.T.," Elliott said, stretching an arm over his head. The helmet dangled from the upright arm, and caught the sun. "Though as a muppet, he was kind of cute."

They passed a trash bin, and when she wasn't looking, Elliott casually dumped the ruined helmet into it without a word.

Was he leading, or was she? "Coffee place ahead," he commented. "Might have ice. First aid kit, too. For your cut." Yes, he had noticed her noticing it. It hadn't looked bad, but you never can tell.

Celeste was just happy they made it out of their situation alive. Things could have turned south easily and it wouldn't have been pretty. However, they succeeded - they were both pretty good at defending themselves, it seemed. At least, he was. Celeste mainly just threw a helmet around hoping it'd hit in the rights places. Luckily, it did.

She gave him a smile back as they walked. It was good to meet someone who helped out like he did. Granted, it probably was her fault for it anyways. She did open her mouth when she really shouldn't have... He didn't seem to blame her, though, so it put her more at ease despite her guilt. 

She nodded. Fair enough. He never asked his parents. It was slightly surprising. Celeste always asked her parents, before they found out she was a mutant, why they named her Celestina. They'd always tell her because she was their angel from heaven. It kinda made her sick, thinking about it now. Especially considering how fast she went from angel to demon in their eyes. 

She giggled, "Well, I mean, E.T. wasn't the ugliest little alien ever. At least he was kinda cute in a weird, E.T. way. Muppet E.T. is kind of cute. Buttt, muppet almost anything is pretty cute, though." 

She nodded as she looked towards the coffee place. She nodded, "I would hope so. Pretty bad coffee shop if they had no ice." She gave him a playful grin, then grumbled, "especially considering my favorite kind of coffees and frappes need ice..." She then perked a brow, "Oh, it's nothing too bad. Just burns a bit. Probably just need some alcohol to clean it and it'll be fine." Hopefully, anyways. Maybe they poisoned their blades, ready to kill? Who knew. 

"True enough." Muppets = cute. Kind of their MO. Save for certain Henson creations, like Jabba the Hutt, it was true. He smiled at the mental image of an attempt at a cute Hutt. Then, once he got done mentally scarring himself with that thought, he moved on.

"Yeah. Iced coffee is a big seller these days," Elliott agreed. "Unless you like your coffee in one form and one default color of black, with no additives like sugar or love." But most Americans vastly prefer too much sugar to the bitterness that is black coffee, plain. Most Americans like dental pain, too. And coronaries. That was a fact. Or at least, flagrantly obvious. Speaking of pain-- the injury didn't seem to be bothering her. But they'd still make sure she got the requisite Neosporin and a band aid. There was no telling where those street toughs had been.

Elliott held the door open for Celeste, then followed her into the shop. He flagged down the first waitress he saw. She looked a little like Celeste, if you swapped the blonde hair for brown... and she looked a bit put off by his bruise and the state of his clothing, too. Maybe being roughed up had made him look worse for the wear? He jerked a thumb Celeste's way.

"Some people just tried to mug her," he explained, with a well-placed lie. They'd be more likely to help if they figured she needed help more than him, and that he'd been acting as some form of noble hero. "I fought them off. Listen, do you have a first aid kit? I want to make sure she gets checked out. One of them got her with a knife."

"Where are they?" The waitress asked. She did the one thing he absolutely hadn't wanted. "We should report them to the police." She tried to involve cops.

His uh was internal. His silence lasted less than a second, while he doubled down on the lie. "I chased them off before they hurt her more than they already had... one of them might have hit me, but they ran. I know karate." Cough cough. Taekwondo, actually, but who says taekwondo? Karate is the popular martial art of America. Kind of like how Starbucks is the popular coffee shop of choice. Even if it isn't the best. "Don't know where they are now."

"Probably should still call 911, if she got stabbed-" the waitress trailed helpfully, eying Celeste like she had just walked in off the street with a banged up, mysterious, tall alien-looking green man, and needed help... and not just on account of having been cut.

She nodded and then laughed at his comment. He was a funny guy, that's for sure, "Yeah, no sugar is definitely pretty much a loveless coffee." She chuckled for a minute afterwards. It was pretty funny. And Celeste did love herself some sugary coffee and well, sugary anything. Not the healthiest thing but she was here for a good time, not a long time. Right? 

In either case, it was time to enter the shop. She thanked Elliott for holding the door for her and gave a smile towards the waitress. The waitress looked a bit freaked out by their appearance. They were pretty roughed up, with cuts and bruises on them. Probably wasn't the most normal looking scene, that was for sure. She tried to think if someone had ever come into her Starbucks back in Regina or even in at the Wallflower Diner looking like they probably did. People were trying to mug her? It took her a second to realize he was trying to cover it up - which made sense, probably. Celeste usually wasn't one to lie, but it might be the safest option for them in this situation. 

She kinda wished he would have mentioned that was going to be the game plan before they started talking with the waitress, though. 

She nodded a confirmation, "It's just a scratch... Needs a little band-aid and it'll be fine." She gave a warm smile to the woman. She put her hand on Elliott's arm to make it known to the waitress that Elliott wasn't the dangerous one, "They got away, they kinda freaked after he punched their leader. I don't think they were really expecting it... It was just a couple kids, though. Hopefully, they learned a lesson. I'm sure they did."

She sighed, she was actually a little tired. "We're fine, we just need to clean up this and a pack of ice for his eye. They a good throw in." She gave a smile to Elliott, "Do you mind if we sit there?" she pointed towards a large booth table that hopefully had plenty of room for the both of them. 

The waitress, surprisingly enough, calmed down after hearing the young lady's piece in the matter. It figured. They likely had things in common, other than being waitresses and both female. Although 'girl to girl' was a bond, too. Maybe it was just that he, the obvious mutant, was worth doubting, whereas she, the young blonde girl in need of help, clearly had nothing wrong with her that impinged on her morality. When she calmed down, Elliott calmed down. That was much better.

"Yeah, okay." The waitress said. Her tone said she'd taken what Celeste said at face value. It wasn't sarcastic. No undertones. The girl even smiled at Celeste. "Let me go see about getting you a bandaid then, dear." She said.

Elliott looked to where Celeste was gesturing, nodded briefly, then had himself a sitdown. He slid into place on one side of the booth, and relaxed.

The green man ached. He had a nice bruise, and he'd been in a fight. However brief, fights require a lot of energy (both physically, and mentally). His body was flooded with the chemicals that have helped the human race persevere through countless generations of fight or flight. A delightful cocktail of adrenaline and other things. Elliott let out a little puff of breath, and stared across the table.

"Well. Coffee ought to help." He estimated about 12 cups were needed. And an aspirin.

She gave the waitress a smile as she calmed down. There were probably all sorts of factors that made her question the situation and trust her more than Elliott. Celeste didn’t want to think that it was simply because Celeste looked like a “normal person” and because Elliott was, well, green.

In either case, there was no point in worrying about it. The waitress was already going off to get us some band-aids and hopefully an ice pack. She followed behind Elliott and sat down across from him. She stared back towards Elliott and also sighed, trying to process the fight they had been in, “Yeah… I hope so. I feel pretty tired now, honestly. Do you think... They'll try to hunt us down or something? Or do you think they're pretty... Well, done for?” What an afternoon.

“I’m sorry about your helmet, by the way... I… I kinda just did everything instinctively. How's your head?” 

>>“Yeah… I hope so. I feel pretty tired now, honestly. Do you think... They'll try to hunt us down or something? Or do you think they're pretty... Well, done for?” Celeste asked.

Elliott thought about it for a second, then frowned. "I think their egos are bruised almost as much as their heads," he said. "Hopefully that means they won't try again. With anyone. We pretty thoroughly handled them. Hope they decide picking fights with people smarter and better-looking than them is a recipe for disaster."

Why would a human decide it was okay to pick a fight with a mutant in the first place? Or an alien. Someone who literally had some sort of advantage over them, before they'd even begun. Had they thought numbers and weapons would prove equivalent to his fighting skills? They'd thought wrong.

>>“I’m sorry about your helmet, by the way..." Celeste said. "I… I kinda just did everything instinctively. How's your head?”

He tilted said head, tapped his temple once, and didn't notice any ugly rattling. "A few screws loose," Elliott smiled. "But nothing I can't fix. Don't worry about the helmet. Easily replaced. Ah, there's the waitress with a first aid kit and an ice pack." He turned to accept the things, then shifted his focus back to Celeste with a polite 'thank you' towards the help.

The kit opened, Elliott started pulling out tubes of antibacterial cream and rolls of cloth bandages from their place amid the regular old Mario and Luigi bandaids for kids. He eyed the medical tape, realized that was too much, and held up the box and waggled it at her. "You like green Mario or red Mario?" He asked.

Celeste waited for him to answer her question before she nodded and relaxed a little bit more, “We did beat ‘em up, eh.” She was content with their performance. They did do a good job taking them down, despite the few bruises and cuts they received.

She giggled and gave him a smile. A few loose screws weren’t too bad, thankfully. Better than what she thought she might have done to him. They had made it safely to the diner where the nice waitress lady was already back and handing them their requested items.

She whispered a thank you to the waitress as well.

The waitress gave them both a sweet smile, although she clearly was more concerned for Celeste than the green mutant sitting across from her. “I’ll come back in a few minutes to take your guys orders if y’all want anything.” She went off then.

She perked a brow and moved over next to Elliott on his side of the bench so she could get a better look at the colors, “Hmm, definitely red. Red looks better on me, anyway.” She chuckled. Granted, in the location it was at, it wouldn’t even be seen by anyone anyways. She took a couple napkins and wrapped the ice pack in it so it wouldn’t be too chilly on his head.