Ugh! What a night. First Bekka blows her off to run off with some pretentious model that only allows himself to be photographed via mirrors (whatever, right?), and then Sammie is too busy working on his “magic in card games” thesis (again…whatever), and now she was wandering through the evening, lugging a tank of gasoline because her baby decided to crap out on her way home. Blegh, she was in desperate need to get home, shower, slip into her cotton shorts and tank top and just melt into her bed with some good, brain rotting TV.

That is...if she ever gets home.

Winnie grumbled to herself as she hefted up the gas container. She always had a small one in the satchel of her vespa, for occasions just like this. However she rarely, if ever, needed to use it. She was good at making sure her baby was well fed but there had been a disturbing habit of late of some ne’er-do-well siphoning gas from her tank. There was no proof, other than the fact that her vespa had been suspicious low on gas these days, but she was certain that in a place like New York, something that idiotic would befall her.

Another sigh and Winnie kicked an aluminum can across the the concrete with her sneaker. Today she was dressed rather casually in jeans, boots, and a peach colored top that exposed her solid midriff. Over her shoulders she wore a thin, red leather jacket and atop her crop of blonde, pixie-cut hair, sat a maroon knit beanie of a maroon shade. The woman did little more than grumble as she lugged the gasoline can down the street, kicking another rock, vowing vengeance on her friends for ditching her tonight (though in reality at most she would just send them all disturbing memes or video clips in the early morning hours and forgive them afterwards).

Stormy gray eyes moving across her surrounds, the young photographer started to hum a little song to herself as she noticed that she was just around the corner from where her vespa had run out of gas. the container in her hand would be just enough to give it juice to get her to a gas station, but that didn’t make it any less heavy. If anything it just made everything worse because she knew it shouldn’t be as cumbersome as it was. But, it was probably more just her irritation that was mumbling out from between her lips now. When frustrated, even the simplest tasks seemed impossible and overtly bothersome.

Winnie did her best to shake the storm clouds away, kicking another rock in frustration, in hopes that it would carry away with it all the misery that she felt wanting to build up in her mind. As the rock clattered away, Winnie didn’t bother to see where it landed, only hearing the faintest of TING’s as it collided with something metallic -- at most she figured it was an aluminum can or pipe, nothing worth noting. She carried on, another sigh as she made her way back to her orange vespa which was still a corner or two away.

Behind her, in an alley where she had punted the stone, Winnie didn’t notice the ruby scanner that glanced down at the rock that had bounced off the cuff of its foot. A twitch of electricity coursed through a sleek, reinforced body, as a machine puffed itself up, flexing and whirling servos. With a heavy step it peered out from alleyway, turning as its head follow the young woman walking away. Another malfunctioning tweak and the machine began scanning.

”Mutant DNA signature identified…” it said to the trashcan next to it. ”...confirmed hostile threat. Proceed with capture?”

The trashcan's silence spoke volumes. Clearly it agreed...

One month. It’d been one month since—well—everything had come crashing down. One month since Jack’s life had been flipped on its head and one month since she’d ventured out beyond the four walls of her new abode. Devon had been generous, to let her stay—even moreso to let her keep her job, and let her do odd jobs around the complex for some extra pocket change—especially after Jack had come clean about everything that’d gone wrong.

It’d been a longshot, but—since Tempest was an affluent man who attracted such elite patrons to his club, Jack had assumed that he’d be a good person to approach about… well, making a person disappear. Not “dead” disappear, but “dead” in the legal sense. Hiding them in plain view. The best he could do was an apartment, and allow her to keep her jobs. All-in-all, he did quite a bit for her.

Tonight was the first night Jack had managed to venture out. Her blue carapace freshly-coated with brown paint. It’d been the idea of another tenant, an artsy sort. Jack looked like an entirely new creature. It did very little to quell the mounting anxiety in her throat. She was going to be sick… oh, she felt like she’d really be sick. Jack just really… needed to not be here tonight. That’s why she’d ventured out. She could’ve ventured down to the bar, but for a woman her size… it’d wrack-up quite a tab. She needed something just for herself.

She walked briskly along, shoulders hunched, hood drawn, face down—just get to the liquor store and then go home, easy as that. She was walking along at a clipped pace when she heard the tinny demand of a robot, and she froze. Oh f**k.

>> ”Mutant DNA signature identified… confirmed hostile threat. Proceed with capture?”

Lo and behold, a META was sputtering to life in the alley.

F**kf**kf**kf**kf**kf**kf**k.

Should she run? No, that’d be suspicious. Besides, everyone thought she was dead, why would the cops be looking for her? They wouldn’t be. Unless they knew she was a murderer. Did they know? Sh*t. Her heart hammered in her chest, eyes wide, sweat beading in from the seams between her carapace. F**k. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see.

The METAbot didn’t notice her. It clanked past, its attention focused on someone else. Jack followed the machine with her eyes.

Sh*t. Jack stood there a moment with a primary hand pressed to her chest, trying to quiet her hammering heart. Despite her mind’s insistence that she was safe, she wasn’t going to get attacked, everything was fine… she couldn’t… ugh, she couldn’t breathe. The prawn waited a moment before continuing up the street, a good half-block behind the META.

What was it tailing, anyways? Did they always spasm like that? The prawn wasn’t sure… she made a habit of being scare around those things. Didn’t trust them one bit.

There was a distinct feeling of being watched. Winnie couldn’t shake it, but ever since she turned the corner, it felt like something or someone was following her. She could feel her pulse rising but she needed to remind herself that this was New York and weirdos were a dime a dozen. It was probably some some drunk or vagrant wandering down the sidewalk she was. All she needed to do was keep her head, reach her vespa, fill up the tank and mosey on out of this neighborhood and towards the nearest, well-lit, gas station. Really, it was as simple as all that.

But as Winnie marched through the dark right, trying to get to her vehicle that was just parked one more corner away, she found herself beginning to quicken her pace. Really she just wanted to get out of here at this point, before she started jumping at shadows. It was odd just how abandoned the rest of the city seemed at this point, in this particular part of the city. Cars passed, but too quickly to use the glass to see if anyone was following. Rather, it just felt more like people were fleeing whatever was behind her, but she knew that was little more than her imagination. Right?

She ground her teeth, almost wishing that she still felt overwhelming annoyance rather than fear. She knew what happened when she got too scared so right now she was trying to not focus on it. Only a few more feet and she could get her bike and get out of here.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Okay, those sounds were certainly not nice. The thudding was metallic and heavy, a sound that she would have normally just passed off as the random sounds of the city. But, these thuds were too close together, too rhythmic, and growing in volume the closer that they got to her. Passing another alley, and just before reaching her salvation of a corner, the sound grew deafening and caused her to spin on her heel.

”...the ****?!” she shouted in agitation and turned.

The META was sleek. Not the heavy duty variety, but the kind that was thinner, more created for pursuit than anything else. Still, that didn’t help it to not appear unnerving as the device looked down at her with a tilt of its head. A spasm coursed through it, causing Winnie to back away, and the machine or twitch. Looking down at her feet, the bot twitched again, pulling a pair of handcuffs from a compartment in its chassis.

”Stop, mutant. You are under arrest.” It spoke firmly in it’s metallic voice.

Winnie, taken aback, took another step away from the machine, shaking her head, trying to bring up the usually piss and vinegar that she mixed into the tone of her voice. ”T-The bloody hell is your problem?” she stammered before grinding her teeth in an attempt to control herself. ”What’s your malfunction, buddy? What am I under arrest for?”

The bot twitched again, sending off a spark. ”Attempted murder of a police officer.” the bot said. It lifted its other hand, picking up the rock that Winnie had kicked earlier. ”The murder weapon will go into evidence. PARLOR ROOM with the DISCO ball…” it said in it’s very confused voice.

Winnie shook her head. ”Out of your mind…” she said. She took another step back and opened her mouth to tell the thing to go find some bolts to screw itself with. However, before she got the words out, the machine snapped.

”STOP! ATTEMPTED ESCAPE! ATTEMPTED ESCAPE!” A heavy, clumsy swipe was made at her.

Winnie felt the fear coming. The loud voice, the sharp movement, the accusation, it made her pulse race until, finally her body responded in the only way that it could…

POP!!!

Where one second there was a young, fearful woman, the next there was a small, brown-feathered kiwi bird running through the bot’s legs and back the direction she had just come from. She needed to run, she needed safety, and she needed to get away from the bot. However, even as the swift little bird ran through down the sidewalk, she could hear the sounds to bot in pursuit.

”Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!” the little bird shouted as she fled. This was not her night...

The prawn lumbered onward, gaze fixated upon the twitchy META. How could she look anywhere else? It was unnerving. It rounded the corner, and the prawn relaxed marginally. Okay… maybe it wasn’t out to get her. She still kept her shoulders shrugged and pace quick. You never knew if more were lurking, somewhere.

Jack didn’t notice the voice that rose with indignation, but she did here the faint, tinny sound of the robotic officer. At this distance, it sounded mostly like nonsense-- that is, until it yelled.

>> ”STOP! ATTEMPTED ESCAPE! ATTEMPTED ESCAPE!”

The prawn went rigid. The f**k? Her eyes trained on the corner, still a hundred yards off, from around which the voice had sprung. The heavy metallic footsteps were drawing closer-- the suspect was coming this way-- the prawn felt herself moving aside to make way. Like hell if she’d get caught in the crossfires. Her mind danced with visions of a man with a shaved head and in a wife-beater.

Instead, what rounded the corner appeared to be a paper bag… at least, Jack thought it was a paper bag… then, she noticed that it was moving differently. Legs. A rat? No. A bird. The hell kind of a bird was that? Maybe it was a fancy pigeon. Noooo, or else it’d be flying.

“Ki-wi,” the prawn grunted, bemused. There weren’t kiwis in New York. Maybe the META was trying to apprehend an escaped zoo animal. Heh. A smile almost touched the prawn’s face.

Then she heard it swearing.

It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out what kind of kiwi that was.

The robot was gaining. Jack felt herself kneeling.

“Hey! Kiwi!” the prawn barked, dropping a primary hand low to the ground. It seemed pretty quick, on its own, but Jack had longer legs by far. If it was just a zoo animal, then she wouldn’t be in the wrong.

If it was a mutant, then… well… they had to stick together.

This was just not Winnie’s night. First of all, all her plans were essentially dashed, then her Orange Thunder baby ran out of gas, and, oh yeah, now she was running for her ****ing life!! Bolting away from the scene where the bot tried to grab her, Winnie had become the least useful version of herself, a kiwi-bird, and was running at full tilt away from the malfunctioning mayhem-driven maniac. Diving between its legs, she ran with as much force as her little legs could carry her but she knew that the far longer leg reach of the machine would probably be her downfall.

Still, Winnie wasn’t stupid, she knew that she had to run; she wasn’t going to just sit there and let whatever the bot wanted to do to her to happen. Besides, there was always the chance she could squeeze through a storm drain or something in order to escape -- she just had to get there first.

Behind her she could hear the heavy thuds of massive, metallic feet thumping against the concrete. It was akin to mini earthquakes rattling her from the ground up. She skipped and gasped, trying to keep her footing straight but as the bot closed the gap, it was quickly becoming more and more apparent that she was completely running out of room. Before long she would be within reach and, in this form, there would be little that she could do; so she did the only thing she could…

”[EXPLETIVE] YOU, YOU GODDAMN PIECE OF [EXPLETIVE]! WHAT THE [EXPLETIVE] IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU [EXPLETIVE] [EXPLETIVE] [EXPLETIVE] [EXPLETIVE] WITH BOLTS JAMMED IN YOUR [EXPLETIVE] EYES!” she screamed from her tiny kiwi form. ”GET THE [EXPLETIVE] AWAY FROM ME!”

”Halt, mutant!” the bot persisted, never once letting up and quickly closing the gap. ”You’re wanted for causing a disturbance and attempted assassination!” The bot took another swipe at her but she hopped, just barely missing the robotic hand as she dashed on, around the corner.

Dammit, how was she going to get out of this one?

>>“Hey! Kiwi!”

Her head shot up. Down the way she saw a massive figure. For a second she wondered if it was another METAbot dressed in disguise, but as she drew closer, she saw the hulking figure lean down, offering an open hand -- a hand that was decidedly not made of metal. While Winnie wasn’t always the most trusting of people, a glance back to the pursuing bot, and the massive figure who seemed willing to help her, Winnie chucked her fears out the window. She was going to have to take a leap of faith, here.

”Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” Another clumysy swipe from the bot ruffled Winnie’s tail feathers, causing her to squeak in her natural kiwi voice, and leap. She landed, deftly, in the mutant’s hardened hand and looked up. Tilting her head so that one eye peered at the towering mutant, she clipped her beak at her. ”I ****ing hope you’re on my side because if not, I’m utterly ****ed.”

It looked at her! Now Jack was certain, that bird was no normal bird-- that was definitely a mutant. The METAbot swung and narrowly missed the bird, its final swipe propelling the bird into a leap and *plop* directly into the outstretched palm of Jack's primary hand. Jack scooped the little bird close, bracing it against her hoodie-clad chest. Her feet slipped beneath her (she'd tried to start running too hastily, and she used her free hand to steady herself, sprinting in the direction from whence she'd come.

>> "***ing hope youre on my side, because if not, I'm utterly ****ed."

The prawn darted down the street, gaining some distance on the METAbot. Her brain was shifting into fight-or-flight mode. Can't change directions fast. Straight lines best. Don't lose momentum.

"Ny side is nyu-tant side," the prawn grunted through ragged breaths. They needed to shake this thing. Jack didn't need to glance over her shoulder to know that it was still behind them-- its metallic footsteps were indication enough. The prawn rounded a corner, clipping shoulders with a twenty-something with sidebangs.

"Hey, watch-it!"

"//You better watch OOOOoouuUUUUT~" the METAbot sang in an off-key voice, punctuating the warning with a high, four-note trill, "AAAAnywher3 you g-go I'll find //:Y0U."

Jack warbled fearfully.

"Sun-sing's wrong 'iss dat... sing..." the prawn's wavering voice observed. She saw a gap in traffic, darting across the street, before rounding another corner. She used her free hand to stay upright. She rounded another corner... maybe if it lost sight of them, it wouldn't pursue? They could sneak down and alley and--

The prawn jogged to a halt, her gaze lifting skyward. What she'd believed to be a narrow alley between two buildings was actually a courtyard, with no exit accept the way they'd entered. A number of buildings backed up onto it, their garages facing the shared cul-de-sac. There were cul-de-sacs in the city?

"Sh**," Jack breathed, turning to face the maw of the alley once more. They could run back out that way... they'd fall right into the META bot's lap... their only option was to... cut through one of the properties. Jack carefully walked backwards, glancing over her shoulder. One building appeared to be a church... complete with wrought iron gate around a lush looking yard. Jack wouldn't be able to hop the fence, couldn't squeeze through, and wouldn't feel morally right breaking a gate to a church, but... The prawn lowered her massive hand towards the thick, wrought-iron bars. The kiwi would probably fit. Especially if it was more fluff than gristle.

"I can try and shake it," the prawn offered, "Just lay low sore a 'it. It can't get you in dere."

Winnie was taking a gamble here. To be honest she should have known better than to just hop into the arms of someone she didn’t know. But considering the fact that her life was at stake, she was willing to roll the dice. Besides, the second that she found herself nestled against the larger mutant’s chest, she was calmed by the fact that her rescuer said she was on the side of mutants – at least so far as she could guess. That was at least a load off. So she sighed as she hunkered down into the mutant’s hand and tried to brace herself for whatever was going to come.

Running. Okay, so that was not something that she initially expected the hulking mutant to do. She ran, barreling down the direction that Winnie had been headed, trying to dodge the swift machine as it chased them both down like a pair of criminals. It ranted and spoke in a broken, twitchy language, the kind that most certainly showed it was not working properly. Great, she had to be attacked by one that didn’t know the difference between a bystander and a ****ing assassin!

>>"Sun-sing's wrong 'iss dat... sing..."

Her rescuer huffed and puffed, running with all her might as she rounded a cornered, bumped into someone but kept on going. Winnie, feeling her heart pounding in her tiny chest, rolled her eyes. ”You ****ing think so, huh?”

Rhetorical, but still, she couldn’t help but unleash that after the comment. Really there was no way that bot was working properly so there was no other conclusion other than the fact that it was malfunctioning. But now wasn’t the time to dissect all that as they needed to get out of here.

Turning another corner, the towering behemoth who held her seemed to believe that there could be salvation if they lost the bot. She ran into an alley, hoping that it would take them into a maze in the city…but they were quickly proven wrong.

>>""Sh**,".

”Bloody hell! What’s wrong with this city?!” she grumbled in her tiny kiwi voice.

They were trapped. Buildings on all sides, no easy way for them to escape. The bot was going to close in on their location fast and the only way in was through the alley that they both just finished running through. There was no doubt about it…they were sunk. Winnie continued to curse to herself, panicking as she tried to think of what to do next. Before she could come to any kind of conclusion she was suddenly aware that they were moving again.

Winnie was picked up, marched over to a gate between them and a large, stone church. As the mutant reached through the bars, she started to set Winnie down who was immediately ready to argue the point.

>>" "I can try and shake it…Just lay low sore a 'it. It can't get you in dere."

”What?! No, love! No! Just break the bars! We can keep runni--!” She winced and hunkered down behind a tall bustle of grass. Hiding behind it, she looked up from behind it at the sound of metal feet storming down the alleyway. Before long, the opening was filled by the metal and plastic clad robotic officer. She shook her head, lowering her voice as she urged the large mutant to come through. ”Come on! Before it see’s you!” she whispered firmly.

”Halt, mutant!” the device bellowed. Marching forward, it immediately locked in on both Winnie and her new friend, and stomped towards them. ”You are under a-a-A-rrrrrreeeSST for aiding and ABETing a known mutant criminal!”

”**** off! I’m not a criminal!!” Winnie shouted!

Wrong choice of words because, at that point, the bot charged…

Jack was already retreating towards the mouth of the alley when the bird squeaked at her, veering to one side lest the METAbot thunder past their hiding spot. She was low to the ground, had jogged a few strides, when the gleaming metal automaton blocked her escape. Jack froze, her chest knotting. Her fists clenched into anxious balls. No- nononono- not this again.

>> ”Halt, mutant! You are under a-a-A-rrrrrreeeSST for aiding and ABETing a known mutant criminal!”

>> ”**** off! I’m not a criminal!!”

The prawn was raising her hands, open-palmed, ready to placate and surrender to the glitchy METAbot. Tears rimmed her eyes, her breath still haggard from the run. But then it charged. Her reaction was instantaneous. Fist curled, arm retracted, and then—released. A clenched fist was thrown mere feet away from the METAbot's unseeing eye.

Kra-KOOOOOOM!

Concussive waves surged from the prawn’s fist, throwing the METAbot into the wall. Crunch. Its proximity and the force of the explosion rattled windows of the buildings that faced the cul-de-sac. Jack stood, motionless, trying to steady her breathing. For a moment, the METAbot stuck… spasmed… then dropped to the ground. Its back and part of its head had been crushed. It didn’t stir.

For a tense moment, the prawn watched, expecting it to rise again and pursue her. But… it did not.

Jack’s breath caught in her throat, and she sank to the ground, holding the arm with which she’d dealt the explosive punch. There was dull throb building in the muscle tissue, her heart thrumming weakly in her chest. Jack curled her hands around her forearms. She said she wouldn’t use the power again—she said she wouldn’t—and here she was, using it to assault a cop.

“Aaahhh,” she whined, rocking forward, “SH**!”

Tears were starting to flow.

All this for some random mutant she didn’t even know. Jack sank into a seating position, cradling the sore arm. She’d have to ice it… or at least take a hot shower… tonight.

“Ow.”

Though anxiety was rippling through her, and though Jack was contemplating a hasty escape (like hell if she’d be found with this mangled METAbot), she also needed to check-on the aforementioned “random mutant”. Jack mopped at her eyes and stiffly maneuvered herself into a kneeling position, lavender eyes scouring the yard of the church. If it’d been smart, it would’ve run, like she told it to.

“Kiwi?” Jack asked, rubbing her sore arm. There was a sort of frightened urgency in her expression. She didn't know if anyone would investigate the noise, didn't know when someone would notice the felled robot, and didn't want to stick around to find out.

Her fear only continued to grow. Her new friend was going to get themself arrested because of Winnie. Though she knew it wasn’t actually her fault, but the fault of that stupid bucket of bolts, she still felt terrible about things. How could she do this? Just stand back and watch the large mutant throw itself into harm’s way? There had to be something that she could do but she was just a tiny bird and her fear reaction was still too fresh to allow her to shift back. Dammit! Curses filled her mind as she tried to think of something, anything that she could do.

But it was too late. While her friend tried to stay low and almost subdued, the bot stormed into the cul de sac and immediately turned eyes back onto Winnie. It seemed that this bastard had a one track mind. It shouted, announcing for her to stop running, that she was a known criminal. Frustrated beyond belief, Winnie shouted from her hiding spot that she wasn’t one but it was too late -- the bot was not going to leave without her.

It ran.

Winnie squeaked and tried to find a dark corner to nestle down in.

Then the other mutant acted.

She barely lifted her head in time to see what happened. The large, hoodie-wearing mutant jumped up, ran after the bot and lashed out with punch. Winnie’s beady eyes widened as all sound around them seemed to come to a stop. The shockwave that followed was terrible and awesome. The mutant’s large fist lashed out, striking the bot square and sending it flying across the alley. Winnie herself, momentarily caught up in the shockwave, winced as the wind flew about her, knocking her off her tiny feet and sending her sailing back into the bushes.

By the time the sound died and Winnie wasn’t confused any longer, she had to squirm and wriggle in order to get herself out of the bushes. For a second she worried that she lost her hearing but the sound of ringing slowly came in before being replaced by the sounds of the city around her. Still terrified and shaky, Winnie swept onto her two feet and straightened up her neck, turning her ping pong-sized ball to the left and right. Her black eyes falling onto the open concrete, she held her breath.

”**** me…” she whispered in a tiny voice. The METAbot looked utterly demolished. It crumbled onto the ground, pieces of it seemingly embedded in the brick wall where it hit. There was no way it could have survived that. Cautiously she started to step through the grass and back to the iron wrought fence.

It was the sound of whimper that drew her attention. At first she thought that, maybe, it was the bot. After taking a hit like that, well, even a machine had to whimper. But the machine was soundless so she turned her head until she locked her gaze onto the kneeling mutant who seemed close to sobbing. Tilting her head down, Winnie started to crawl out from between the bars, barely managing to squeeze her rotund rump through the spaces between the metal.

>>“Ow...Kiwi?”

Winnie crawled out, stepping carefully over to the much larger mutant. She had to turn her head several times, tries to get a good view of the mutant but being a dark cul de sac, there wasn’t the best light for her bird vision. But, for the most part, she had to admit that aside from the sobbing, the other looked to be in relatively good health.

She craned her neck up, trying to look at her savior. ”A-Are you okay, honey?” she asked with her soft, English accent. ”Are you hurt?”

Something in the prawn's expression slackened with relief when the kiwi revealed itself. So it didn't do as it was told and run, but at least it was... okay.

"N-not hurt," Jack rose off her haunches, mopping at her eyes with the arm that hadn't dealt the punch, "N-n-nore like... s-s'reaked out? Sore..."

Freaked-out was an understatement. Her heart was hammering her chest, she couldn't breath, and her head was realing. The prawn may have wobbled a bit as she stood.

"N-need to get out uzz here," Jack reiterated, glancing over her shoulder at the busted METAbot. That didn't really need explaining. However defunct the machine was, it was still property of the NYPD, and Jack wasn't going to be caught near it... not if she could help it. The prawn glanced back towards the small bird, her eyes crinkling in an uneasy smile.

"D-do you want nee to, uh," she began. Jack swallowed hard. Now that the threat was removed, she didn't suppose that the kiwi really needed her assistance, "Dat is, uh, would ya like any help getting 'ack to where you 'ere going?"

It wouldn't be fair to make a creature with such short legs make the walk all the way back to where it had come from.

Winnie was worried about her new friend. After all, the mutant went out of their way to help her and while she was brilliant at it, it seemed almost as if she had hurt herself during the process. Though the small kiwi couldn’t see anything necessarily wrong with her, that didn’t mean that she was unscatched. After all, that punch she laid out on the METAbot was unlike anything that she had ever seen before. Truly it was a masterpiece to behold. But what effect did it have on her rescuer?

Cautiously she approached, inquiring as she turned her head left and right, trying to get a good look at the mutant in hopes of understanding what she had endured. Really and truly she hoped that she was okay.

>>"N-not hurt...N-n-nore like... s-s'reaked out? Sore...N-need to get out uzz here,"

Winnie was relieved to know that her friend was okay but she had a point, they needed to get out of here. While she didn’t think it would be that big of a problem when the police arrived (it should be simple enough to explain that the METAbot went haywire and tried to hurt her when she did absolutely nothing wrong) her friend looked all together nervous. She wasn’t going to question it.

She nodded her small head, shifting from spindly leg to the other. ”Okay, honey. We’ll get out of here.”

She took a few steps back so that the lumbering mass of the mutant could stand up. The last thing she wanted to do was get trampled as the obviously weakened mutant stood up. Moving backwards, she turned her head, eyeing her again as she sighed before moving towards the alley that they ran down. She needed to get back to her vespa, if she could.

>>"D-do you want nee to, uh...Dat is, uh, would ya like any help getting 'ack to where you 'ere going?"

A sigh of relief fell from her beak as she nodded her head. ”I...I would hate to impose,” she said. ”But I left my vespa with no gas on the corner. I’m sure someone will steal it if left alone and…” she craned her neck down, awkwardly gesturing to herself. ”Until I calm down, I...going to be stuck like this.”

God, she really and truly hoped that she wouldn’t be stucki. That was the last thing she needed tonight.

The little bird spoke delicately to the armored behemoth. No questions asked, just "Okay, honey. We'll get out of here." It was so uncomplicated. Jack rose to her feet with a grunt, wobbling slightly and taking a careful step to steady herself. Her arm twinged, and Jack grasped at it with her good arm, sucking air through her mandibles. Ow.

When the little bird avowed that it would appreciate the help, the prawn shook her head reassuringly.

"Is no trou'le," she assured the kiwi, kneeling back down. Carefully Jack scooped the kiwi into her hands and lifted it up, her bad arm twining in protest at the motion. Stupid, stupid, stupid it seemed to say with each stab of pain. Jack eased the kiwi into her good hand, then tucked the hand of her sore arm into her pocket-- she'd just have to try and not jostle it until she finished helping the kiwi.

Kiwi in-hand, the prawn stalked towards the mouth of the alley, side-eyeing the robot as they went. Strangely enough, no on had come to investigate, yet. She surmised that perhaps any bystanders wrote the explosion off as a uniquely loud M-80. Jack left the courtyard, quickening her pace down the alley, and then joined the flow of foot-traffic on the street.

"You tell nee where to go," the prawn prompted gently. She started off in the direction from which they'd come. She figured it'd be a safe assumption that the kiwi was at least in that general direction... unless she'd been running for a while.

"Ne'er asked your nay'n," the prawn observed, gaze flicking towards the kiwi that was once again braced against her chest, "I'n Jack."

On the one hand, Jack was disinclined to tell the little bird much about herself-- she was a stranger, she might rat her out to someone. On the other hand, strangers were safer because they afforded you a certain degree of anonimity. They'd probably never see each other again after this, right? So no worries... and besides, the prawn was still wracked with nerves. Her heart was hammering, and she was trembling ever so slightly-- the anxiety made her slightly more inclined to talk.

"Work sore a nightclu'," the prawn continued conversationally, "Used to work security."

A faint laugh. She was sure that such a revelation took not stretch of the imagination to fathom.

Winnie felt bad for enlisting the mutant’s help further but she needed to get back to her vespa. It was her baby and she couldn't fathom leaving it out in the cold. Still, if she wasn't human by the time she got there, she wasn't sure what she could do. It wasn't as if her new friend would be able to ride it. As stressful as it was, she could just activate the kill switch on it and pray that by the time she became human and could return that it wasn't stripped. New York, such a cruel place.

With help helping gargantuan in hand, Winnie was about to take the lead in the strangest and shortest parade this city would ever see, when she was scooped up. She flailed briefly but didn't fight the mutant as she was shifted between large, strong hands, and cradled against a massive, firm chest. It would have felt demeaning…if it also didn't make her feel safe. So Winnie didn't protest, she just clicked her beak awkwardly as she was carried out.

>>"You tell nee where to go,"

She nodded her small head. ”Just back where you found me. Parked my vespa around the corner in front of a tea and pastry shop, the Frodo T-Baggins.” Good what a terrible pun. She hoped that one day the store burned down just for that affront to her eyes.

As the odd duo blended into the crowd (as best they could) Winnie did her best to stay still. While most of New York pedestrians would avoid eye contact with a hulking figure in a hoodie, or would be a bit more difficult to look away when said figure was carrying a tiny fluff ball of a bird. So she shrunk down, staying quiet as she was carried to her destination.

>>"Ne'er asked your nay'n...I'n Jack."

She smiled, well as best a bird can, and replied. ”Lovely to put a name to my hero. My name’s is Winnie.” While the photographer was normally careful with giving out her name to strangers, right now she would risk it, especially since the mutant proved to be her hero.

She really hoped that Jack was as sweet as she sounded and wasn't getting her ready for dinner. Maybe that wasn't right of her to think but in this age, she wouldn't put it past anyone.

They moved onto the sidewalk and Winnie sighed. She was calming down but her pulse was still quick. The incident with the bot, the possibilities of what could have happened, the fear so coursed through her veins. But even feeling safe in Jack’s hand didn't deter her fears all together. She would calm down. She would. She would just have to keep repeating that to herself.

>>"Work sore a nightclu'...Used to work security."

With the knowledge that Jack used to work at a nightclub, the thought crossed her mind that maybe she'd meet Jack before. She loved to frequent nightclubs, but surely she would have remembered meeting someone like Jack before.

”Nightclub? Anyplace I've been?” she asked sweetly. But when Jack stated she used to work security, Winnie nodded her head understandingly. ”Well, you certainly have the presence for it.” She said lightly. However, after a second, she clarified. ”That was a compliment, honey.” She took a second before she responded in kind. "I'm a freelance photographer. Should let me take your picture one day. I bet you photograph beautifully."

The prawn didn't get the reference. And she also didn't know where the shop was, either, despite the fact that she drank tea. It was more cost-effective to just make it at home.

>> ”Lovely to put a name to my hero. My name’s is Winnie.”

"Winnie," the prawn reiterated. It was a good name. Easy to say, "So, you are a lady?"

It was hard to tell, with tiny bird voice and tiny bird body. And Jack, frequently mistaken for the opposite gender, felt no qualms about clarifying.

>> ”Nightclub? Anyplace I've been?”

"Hmmm, nay'e," the prawn confessed. She saw so many people each night, it'd be impossible to remember, "It's a nyu-tant nightclu', so... it'd nake sense."

>> ”Well, you certainly have the presence for it.”

'cuz she was tall, riight? Jack paused at a street corner, waiting for the light to change. The red hand was replaced by a walking green man, and the prawn followed the flow of pedestrian traffic accross the street. The degree of attention she was given varied from person-to-person-- some people oggled the prawn outright, while others looked everywhere but her. No one seemed to fixate on the peculiar bird in her hands. That was probably for the best.

>> ”That was a compliment, honey. I'm a freelance photographer. Should let me take your picture one day. I bet you photograph beautifully."

"Should see nee in a suit," the prawn said with a chuckle, mostly kidding. Something about her narrow hips and barrel of a chest made for a very dapper, almost caricature-like silhouette. It was very well-suited for mens' fashion. (Jack was sexy, and she was well aware of that.)

Admittedly, the confident comment came out of a place of disbelief-- Winnie didn't actually want to photograph her, did she? After the sh** they'd just gone through? Jack wanted to just steal away to her apartment and forget about the whole thing. Surely the bird-mutant wanted to do the same? Just forget that a berserk META!bot had chased them down, just forget the behemoth that'd smashed the META to smithereens... just take her Vespa and go home... right?

So this was kind of nice. A bit weird. But also kinda nice. The last time Winnie had been carried around with this sense of safety and care, it was probably when she was a child. Not that she was making any such connections right now; her mother was not a giant, hard shelled mutant with a punch that could level buildings. Rather Winnie was more just drawing the comparisons of how safe it actually felt. Honestly she could probably fall asleep…

...if it weren’t for the looks they were getting. Winnie nestled closer into the hoodie. She could be boisterous and attention seeking, but it was better when she was in her human form. In kiwi, well, it opened far too many doors to being mocked or teased, things that Winnie usually didn’t handle well when all she could do was curse at them.

But right now, she actually felt alright. And though she didn’t want to draw attention to them, conversation certainly seemed called for.

>>"Winnie...So, you are a lady?"

Winnie snorted. ”The f**king classiest.” She giggled a bit.It was odd to see a kiwi bird giggle, probably too adorable for words, but Winnie still did it. Hoping she didn’t offend the other’s sensibilities, she went on. ”Yes. 100% lady.” Feeling it was probably better to get the obvious questions out of the way, she retorted. ”You, love? Are you a Jack Nicholsan or a Jackie Onassis?”

Conversation felt good. Already she could feel her pulse begin to slow. Maybe, before long, she would able to to revert back to human -- as least so long as there were no more surprises.

>>"Hmmm, nay'e...It's a nyu-tant nightclu', so... it'd nake sense."

Winnie had heard there were mutant nightclubs around but she had only been for a scant few. There weren’t many in California, as least as far as she knew, so hearing of them occurring in New York was certainly a surprise. She would have to attend one, some day.

When explaining her own job, Winnie admitted that she was a photographer, and further threw in that she would love to take a picture of her heroine. It was true, after all, how many people can say that they actually have a picture of the person who saved her life. A malfunctioning METAbot was no laughing matter, after all, Winnie could have very well died. She owed her life to her new found friend, the least she could do was immortalize her with a picture.

>>"Should see nee in a suit,"

Winnie snickered a bit when Jack mention that she should be seen in a suit. The young fowl just looked up at the mutant crustacean, nodding her head softly as she scrutinize her, shifting from one eye to the other. ”Oh, I bet you make a gorgeous sight, honey.”