>> "Err. Do you live around here? ... The community around here's been through a lot considering the number of times calls came out. For sure."

"Oh no, no, though I've thought about it," Devon nodded. "I volunteer at Sanctuary and I've got involved in much of the civic-minded politics. And you're right. A lot, too much, and if we want to keep change moving in the positive direction I'm not going to let people get swept aside or away for sake of some trendy business deal. That isn't progress, that's just business and a heartless sort at that."

He paled slightly at his own rant, eyes widening, as he grinned back awkwardly at AJ. "Sorry, you were saying?"

>> "You're going to schedule... or reschedule."

"Oh I guess reschedule? This wasn't anything formal. I hoped to talk things over less formally," Devon shrugged a shoulder, but AJ went on and Devon was glad for that. He was talking too much tonight. He raised his drink to his lips for another sip.

>> "Because the night is young. The music is... retro. There's a whole world out there begging you to let down your hair for half a second, Devon."

"A whole new world of remixed hits," Devon chuckled, "Don't you dare block your ears. A shame my hair isn't long enough to do so." He lifted a hand to one and was about to take another sip but AJ was seemingly of the encouraging sort.

>> "You've got something to celebrate too, y'know? You stopped an assault and battery, and, you got a fantastic wingman for the evening if you want one."

Devon made a few emphatic nods, grinning. "I didn't do much," he uttered urgently, but he nodded in acceptance. "I have been told I need to relax more," he nodded again. "And I'm trying to... but if anything, let's remember who really saved whom and their friends," Devon's blue eyes flickered as they held AJ's brown.

Oblivious to the attention but not so naive as to think others weren't looking to the two gentlemen, Devon used his free hand to make a sweeping gesture. "We can dance or find your friends, or chat around if you want," he shrugged a shoulder once more and then sipped that drink. "I don't think the remixed dance floor will be that bad actually," he added, while extending that free hand.

"Trust me."

He volunteered and cared. Nobody cared. Not for the people who lived in the places like this. This kind of neighborhood was great for night-life. Not so great for day-life, but it sounded like if someone was invested… someone important enough…

But that was not what AJ was here for. And AJ was fully prepared to shamelessly co-opt Devon’s evening.

> "A whole new world of remixed hits,"

”Right?” He was getting it. Even if it was… what was that? Pink? Any way, AJ had an uphill battle to fight, here.

> "I have been told I need to relax more.”

He was nodding. There was emphatic nodding and a sip here and there.

> "... but if anything, let's remember who really saved whom and their friends,"

All nodding stopped.

Okay. That was a low blow. AJ’s job was to run in after the danger was over. He wasn’t especially brave or kind. He didn’t step in and make changes or be the changes, or, or, or…

> "We can dance or find your friends, or chat around if you want..."

AJ opened his mouth to protest. It’d be easy to decline. He didn’t dance. He didn’t really do ‘fun’ either. He was just winging it ‘cause Devon seemed like the kind of guy who shouldn’t be wasting his youth.

> "Trust me."

”I can break dance.” AJ blurted the words and was pretty sure they were even true despite the fact that he hadn’t really put most of what he’d practiced to a beat. But wat was the use of being able to balance on one arm and tuck and roll if he didn’t ever get to show it off?

”But not much else.” He laughed, totally sure he was making a huge mistake when he slapped his free hand into Devon’s. ”Let’s go have some fun.”

>> ”Right?”

Devon nodding, a chuckle in his grin and eyes even if he didn’t laugh aloud. What was that music? Some Pink remix?

AJ seemed to accept Devon’s plan however, as well as his reminder that it was AJ who’d really taken action to help people including Celeste. Devon had done little more than wave his phone at someone and not even kept AJ from getting hit how many times? Medical professionals may grow to have some detachment to physical injury, but they still put themselves in that fight every day.

>> ”I can break dance. … But not much else.”

Devon was aware that was an old thing but kind of new and retro again. He wasn’t sure how old AJ was but he seemed pretty confident about the fact. Lead with what you’re good at was a fine approach. Devon didn’t care after all. He bounced around to the beat. He was light on his feet, graceful when it came to it, but nothing actual special.

>> ”Let’s go have some fun.”

AJ grabbed his hand though, accepting the offer of whatever pop craziness was spinning up. Some wandering DJ had found Sia to remix, up the base, and fill the dance floor. Devon made an enthusiastic tug at the medic and then let go as he waded into the crowd. He wasn’t one for prolonged contact after all.

The hips and the head moved first, bopping and shifting to the beat. Devon threw a smile at a couple people in his way but moved past them while glancing behind for the Adapted who was already causing him to get warm. The number of bodies in the club, the dancing, the alcohol… Devon’s mutant abilities weren’t in play to keep the temperature down and his body cool. He sipped his drink – refreshing as it was – but it wasn’t the same.

Devon’s dancing was mostly limited to small steps in place and a few on point shoulder, upper body movements. He sipped at his drink and kept his smile on. Dancing at clubs would never be easy, never the same as when he was younger. They’d pay off the bouncer or get a friend to let them in. They’d drink too much. Devon ran every manic moment until he crashed, unable to focus on his homework and wallowing in the worry of his family. He knew he was past those days, but you didn’t forget them. He put his thoughts aside – he knew he could be his own worst enemy – and focused on the music.

"Not even Beyonce can escape it I guess," Devon said as he leaned into AJ's ear.

Okay so they were moving way past his comfort zone, which was back at the bar... or maybe all the way back outside. But AJ'ed asked for it. Quite literally he'd been telling Devon that he needed to put himself out there. So turn about and fair play and a hefty tug from Devon's hand were what it took to get him to follow the man out onto the floor.

And it wasn't like he could ignore the beat. It was so loud and so prevalent that he could feel it in the soles of his feet on up through his spine. Hell. Now that they were out in between all the speakers, AJ could feel the beat bouncing around his rib cage, affecting the pace of his heart. That was it. It was the music. Not the crowd. None of them were even looking. And it definitely wasn't the small side to side stepping that AJ would swear counted as dancing. He had a PT test that he aced every fiscal quarter. He could run with a 200lb sack of sand, if he had to.

The real question was, how did he do this and have that fun he'd been pushing? And what did he do with his hands? At least one of them still had a glass in it.

> "Not even Beyonce can escape it I guess,"

AJ was shaking his head with a smile. "Is that Beyonce?"He had to lean back to answer. "These remixes are pretty mixed." Ah wait. There was the part he recognized. And you know what? He could drink the drink in his hand. That would keep it from spilling better than anything else, he figured. So he knocked more of it back in a single swallow than he had so far. Ah. Not too bad, really.

And before one song was done, the DJ was fading into the next without a single seam. Where did the frenzy stop?

"You gotta put your hands up!" They'd gathered a few other people or maybe there just wasn't enough room for everyone to not be in everyone else's business. AJ wasn't sure who that advice was for, him or Devon, but he took another sip and obliged.

>> "These remixes are pretty mixed."

Devon smirked and grimaced, nodding. It felt silly to say when he was younger or in another life, it’d only been six or seven years ago he was out partying, drinking… But the whole dance club scene had never been it. It’d been raging nights of whirlwind drives to friends. Sure there’d be drinks, but it was bad behavior and ignorant activity. Maybe he hadn’t been that bad? Was it? It’s not like he’d overdosed or gotten in a fight with the cops. Should he really complain? He’d avoided work, school, fought with his parents. What kid didn’t do that?

>> "You gotta put your hands up!"

And Devon did, drink and all. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t focus as he gazed around him or even back. He was failing at everything, so why would he try? It was easier to go out all night. House parties were easy. Maybe it was easy because of the unsavory crowd he’d found. It’s not like he was even in a struggling neighborhood. Well-to-do Bostonites had plenty of well-to-do miscreant kids. Devon didn’t know how to check his own privilege then and even now he felt ashamed to consider his teenage years hard.

So a little dance was different with a measured sense of control. Yes, he sipped his drinks and moved to the music, but he wouldn’t let it go out of control. He wouldn’t end a week of drinks, dancing, parties, and work become a week of depressed sleeping at a friend’s. It was clear work was getting a bit much but with the way Halloween had been he needed at least some distract-

And that’s what it was. It was all a distraction. Lights. Music. Drinking. Parties. Even work. He needed to relax, not distract. That’s what a good night out was, that was good social behavior. Out with friends relaxing.

Lightning didn’t flash – that was just the strobe lights – but Thunder rained down on the dance floor. Devon half-grinned, amused at himself and the song choice. The people gathered near smiled back; Devon wasn’t quite sure whom they were. Were these AJ’s friends?

“I love this song,” Devon said, leaning back to AJ once more, “Maybe even this version.” His grin widened as he actually got into the rhythm and took a couple sips of his drink. Sweat was on his brow, which felt strange, but that was the affect AJ would have on him. He would need to stay hydrated if he was going to actually continue along this route of relaxation he'd stumbled upon.

He wasn’t a kid anymore.

Devon might have been a pro at this kind of scene, but this was beyond AJ's experience. For a time, he'd villainized these kinds of places and these kinds of people. Hell, for a time, he'd even villainized himself. Seemed silly now, with the orbital socket of his eye still aching from someone else's misplaced hate. This was a moment of cleansing, of feeling the life and spirit and energy of the crowd, and feeding himself back into it.

AJ was the type of person who always had energy: bouncing legs when he sat, flipping pens as he studied, and he had no problem going to the gym. In fact, it was a necessity, otherwise he wouldn't sleep the odd hours he had to for work. So jumping, swaying, weaving? All of this came pretty naturally once he took in the beat and the energy of the crowd. Devon said he liked the next sound and it turned out to have a little slower beat, but that only gave AJ a better opportunity to pay attention to the lyrics through the bass.

Right. It was hard to remember sometimes that this guy was extra remarkable. AJ'd seen him fly on the wind. So lightning and thunder... that might actually have been in his wheelhouse.

Was it rude to ask what he could do? And double rude since AJ was apparently stopping that from happening?

He went to take a drink and realized his cup was empty, save for what was left of the sugar cube on his toothpick. It was probably all down his arm and a little on the floor.

AJ leaned in to say he was going on a drink run when the next song kicked in and the crowd cheered in nerdy solidarity. He chuckled and tried again.

"Gonna go grab a water. Need anything?" Actually, it might be good to get out of the press of bodies, just for a break.

AJ seemed to get into the music with energetic ease, so Devon kept up the swift movements and bobble-headed, grinned gyrations. Devon grinned broadly at the song. He really hoped he could have the band at the Inferno sometime. They seemed a charitable type, especially the lead singer.

The music changed and it took Devon a moment to recognize. Everyone started cheering as Devon glanced around with a bemused if almost confused look upon his face. AJ leaned in and said something about water. Devon glanced at his glass – nearly empty – and nodded. He inclined his head toward the bar and followed AJ out of the crazed crowd of Imperialists.

“I feel guilty,” Devon chuckled. “I’ve never seen Star Wars,” he grimaced. “I know, that’s bad.” His father hadn’t really approved of such science fiction and fantasy. Maybe that’s why Devon had gravitated to some of the classical tales of the fey or old fables from his mother’s side. At least then he could argue he was studying something of value. Maybe it was the force and its seeming of magic his father didn’t approve of. People with abilities…

He wiped his hand across his brow, pulling the sweat off, “I’m glad you asked about water.” He finished off the drink in his hand and as they got to the bar, he leaned over a few bar flys to set it down on the counter. “I’m not quite used to it feeling so warm,” he shook his head. Then his blue eyes widened in sudden concern, “Not that I’m complaining. Sorry, I don’t mean to insult or anything- I’m just- Usually I don’t get that hot but it’s okay and everything.”

Devon had a confession. And a defense for when AJ opened his mouth in disbelief.

"It's only bad if you think the classics from the 70's come after the ones released in the aughts." There was no faster way to weed out the young and immature than to ask them what order you should watch Star Wars in. Prequels, they were not. Of course, some people would make fun of him for growing up liking the Ewoks, but he hadn't been old enough to hate them on first viewing. AJ waved for the bartender's attention and was ignored at first. Someone much prettier had walked up. Figured.

"Local brand theaters sometimes run marathons of the good ones. It's definitely worth doing once." AJ smoothed his hair and hoped the low level pounding in his face was the bass and not an orbital fracture. No point in ruining a perfectly decent evening with an injury he could and would ignore.

Once he did get the attention of the bartender, he ordered two water bottles. For which Devon was glad, apparently.

And there was a fair amount of backtracking too. AJ was still getting used to the fact that he was a walking-talking wet blanket for the mutant population.

"Your..." AJ had to cast around for the right word. "Powers" sounded too sci-fi. Irregular genetic expression of the X-gene was the technical term, but there were connotations that people didn't appreciate from "mutant." "...abilities. They keep you cool?" How unfair. Here he'd been sweating with the rest of the club.

"I don't have the most exposure to mutants. I figured I was just lucky or something." He grimaced at his own bungling of words with his water bottle half way up to his lips. AJ stopped to reel it back in. "I mean, what you see on TV isn't the most flattering picture of the mutant community, you know?"

And how could AJ possibly be an ally to mutants when he inadvertently shut them down? Man. They'd somehow waded into something way too heavy to be shouting over the bass about.

>> "It's only bad if you think the classics from the 70's come after the ones released in the aughts."

“Oh I haven’t seen those either. I’ve read they aren’t very good,” Devon remarked with a grin.

>> "Local brand theaters sometimes run marathons of the good ones. It's definitely worth doing once."

Devon nodded though an eyebrow rose in question, “Yeah? That sounds interesting. I don’t get to the movies much.” He shook his head, “I should look into that. They won’t make you watch the prequels first, right?” And he knew there were some newer movies too but keeping track was difficult. When was the last time he’d seen a movie? When was the last time he’d just hung out and watched some TV? That night with Serena? Yes, before Haven… Was he becoming one of those people removed from the day to day? Was he really working that much?

Yes, he was.

Somehow a water bottle became a mutant conversation. Devon knew he’d put his foot in his mouth but it was too late and then he was rambling. The alcohol probably wasn’t helping him. This felt like that bar conversation with Artair.

>> "...abilities. They keep you cool?"

Devon nodded, “Yes, normally.”

>> "I mean, what you see on TV isn't the most flattering picture of the mutant community, you know?"

Devon leaned in close so he could be heard clearly, somewhat oblivious of how irregular the conversation was at the venue though clearly aware he needed to be heard over the throwback remixed music. “Certainly, various media teams will take the perspective that best fits their audience or corporate owner’s point of view. And really, most mutant activity that draws attention is negative whether someone violent, someone emerging without control, or some misunderstanding like with meta attacks.  I've been involved more than once unfortunately,” Devon frowned slightly, nodding. “But people are trying to change that, spread awareness and understanding. The X-Men are a government sponsored perspective. There’s the MRD of the police. And Haven is working for change too, not just for political needs of the mutant minority population but also through education and empowerment as one community.”

Devon leaned back, smiled, but grimaced, “I’m sorry, hard to turn off sometimes.” He laughed awkwardly. “You probably don’t really experience it often anyway due to your own abilities,” he nodded but then frowned slightly, eyes going wide again. “Not that there’s anything wrong with them. Certainly some mutants avoid Adapted but I think there’s an evolutionary aspect there too. Really Adapted can help greatly.”

It was something he’d been considering for his business and Haven for a while.

“Again,” he took a slow breath, leaning in, “You likely helped us and Celeste especially more than we realized that night.” He drew back, nodded, and then seemed to remember he had a water in hand. He lifted it and said, “Thank you,” though it was difficult to hear. Opening it, he took a few long swallows and blew out a slightly exasperated breath.

“Sorry, I rambled. You want to go back out?” he looked to the dance floor. “If you want to get some air, we could go out on one the balcony upstairs,” he gestured up.

He had a lot to say and, being a mutant, he was obviously invested. AJ had largely been able to ignore the politics and keep his nose in his books. So none of it was news exactly, but more than anything it was Devon's passion that struck him. He cared. He cared a lot. He couldn't not care.

"Heavy." He conceded.

> “I’m sorry, hard to turn off sometimes.”

"No, I don't mind. It's totally outside my realm of experience." Devon picked up on that too. The adapted thing was still new to AJ. It felt like one more thing that'd gotten dumped on his lap without his permission.

"I hesitate to call it an ability." Was it odd to have these kinds of conversations with scanty coeds bouncing by? "I haven't had a lot of time to do testing because I only just figured out something was going on. I'm going to see what DNA markers and mapping I can get done with my medical connections. It has to be genetic, right? It's totally subconscious. You'd think that I might feel... something. Turn it off and on?" But, no... that was what mutants did. Apparently adapted humans were different.

> "Really Adapted can help greatly.”

"If they know what they're doing, maybe." Oh, actually he was in that group. Should he have said 'we'?

> “You likely helped us and Celeste especially more than we realized that night.”

Oh. "But I didn't do anything different." And he wouldn't have done anything different had he known... maybe. Hard to say since it was hindsight. Bah! He ran his hands through his hair and then re-smoothed it. He and Devon both had their own exasperated huff and that made AJ laugh. They were frustrated by totally different things, obviously. But still both frustrated.

"I wouldn't mind going back out." Frankly the upstairs was... "Wait. There's an upstairs?" He was trying to recall where his coworkers had said to meet. Maybe it was his hurting face or the mentally heavy confrontation he'd had before wandering in, but upstairs sounded likely. "Do you mind if I check out the upstairs?" Again, he didn't want to abandon Devon. He'd offered to play wingman, after all.

>> "Heavy."

Devon made a quick nod, assuming at least what AJ meant. He remembered when that meant the coolest ever, but then apparently it had also meant a big deal. It was intense, that was certainly. Considering AJ was, what? Late 20’s? Yeah, he probably was using it in the older way. The guy was shorter than Devon certainly, but he hit the gym and hard. Devon could tell by the cut and fit of his shirt if nothing else…

>> "I hesitate to call it an ability."

Devon nodded again, blinking a few times to refocus. What had they just been saying? Oh yes. Adapted abilities. There was so much talk and so much sound. He was feeling his drink, insulting a guy who’d help him and his friend, and also he was rambling. Thankfully AJ didn’t quite seem insulted. What a night that guy had had.

But only just figured it out? He hadn’t known back on Halloween. Mutants were exactly prevalent and NYC was probably the city where they felt most welcome, out in the open. Devon had to remember his experience was increasingly different than most considering the amount of mutants he saw regularly, worked with regularly. Sure Haven had its humans and Devon had a few human patients but mutant rights were a clear focus.

Devon sipped his water and nodded again at the mention of getting a genetic test. He grinned and nodded again at the line of questioning. He shrugged and frowned slightly, shaking his head at the idea of turning it off and on. He’d never heard of Adapted being able to do that, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible.

And while they went right on talking, Devon firmly picked up on that ‘they’ pronoun. There was no we, not yet anyway.

But dancing or fresh air? Devon was up for either and apparently AJ was too, though he wasn’t quite aware of everything going on here at the club. Was anyone ever fully aware of everything occurring in a night club?

>> "Do you mind if I check out the upstairs?"

“No, not at all,” Devon shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind the air, really and maybe your friends might be up there?” He gestured toward the bathrooms, starting to walk, “The stairwell near the coat room or back near the bathrooms take you up to the small second floor and its open balcony. I think most use it for smoke breaks or to cool down, probably some heated fights or dramatic conversations”

He chuckled briefly, “Though maybe we should leave the intensity downstairs.” Into the hall they went, bathrooms to either side and Devon proceeded over to the stairs, hugging the wall as a few assorted individuals were coming down.

Old wood gave a stately study feel to the smaller second floor. There were a few standing bar tables, a couple leather sofas and chairs, and an old piano. Four large windows peered out over the streets outside, including the entrance while two doors were open to a small balcony, barely enough room for three people. A young woman and an older man sat on one sofa. An annoyed looked girl stood at a bar table with three other friends who were talking about how over the club scene was…

Devon turned, an eyebrow quirked as he glanced from AJ to those around the room.

Since Devon was not a jerk, of course he wouldn't mind, but it had been polite to ask. And if Donnie was up there, then AJ wouldn't feel so guilty for making the effort and failing the execution. He really hated failing the execution.

It was a squeeze on the stairs that Devon had described. "You seem to know your way around." Not that it was a dig, just an observation. AJ was a reluctant participant in any kind of night on the town. The medical profession chewed people up and spit them out. You could only last with some hefty self-preservation techniques. For AJ that was strict self-care: water, sleep, and working out. That was all out the window tonight. Eschewed for some social time he wasn't actually participating in. At least he had some water.

The top of the stairs proved to be a bit of a disappointment. There weren't any booths or a minibar or anything like what he'd imagined. Worst of all his work friends weren't here, if they even had been to start with. It was quieter, at least. Quiet enough that AJ's sigh could easily be heard over the base.

"Are you AJ?"

One of the girls from the table had broken away, the rest had their heads together and were whisper fighting.

"Uh. That's me, yeah."

"Huh. Didn't think you'd actually show. Your friend had to bail. He asked me to give you this." She pressed a napkin into AJs hands and started to turn away on wobbly heels.

AJ, I got a MMNB. No ragrets. Have a drink on me. —Donnie

The napkin had a circle of condensation on it.

"Was there a drink? With this?" He held up the napkin and it flopped limply because of the moisture.

Called out, the girl paused before figuring she couldn't get out of the answer.

"I didn't think you'd show." She shrugged unapologetically.

That didn't explain where the others had gone, but it was a big weight lifted all the same. He chuckled and shrugged to Devon. "Well, I'm off the hook, I guess." He passed over the napkin. And then remembered there was an abbreviation that needed explaining. "Make My Night Better. It's a booty call. Donnie's my driver. He was there that night too and really the one I felt obligated to accompany." Probably because 100 days accident free was more of a driver success than a back of the bus thing. The group was still whispering behind them. Maybe he'd picked someone up and ruined their evening.

"Balcony?" It seemed the least crowded and with the most airflow.

>> "You seem to know your way around."

That he did. He’d been here a few times for drinks, meeting some locals to talk discretely about the challenges the area faced. He’d also been here more than once to get details on some of the activities in Red Hook. That information had helped he and Ranger act on the gang moving drugs and weapons through. Devon simply said, “Yeah,” in response. He was glad Noel wasn’t around to taste how off the word was…

AJ seemed displeased. The girl who asked for him clearly didn’t know whom he was either. She had a napkin for him? Maybe someone’s number? The friend had left it; that was a quick night.

Devon winced a bit as AJ help it up and asked about a drink. He couldn’t fault the girl. How long had she been here holding onto the drink? Perhaps Devon had distracted but they weren’t out on the dance floor that long. AJ chuckled and Devon did too.

>> "Make My Night Better. It's a booty call. Donnie's my driver. He was there that night too and really the one I felt obligated to accompany."

“Ohhh,” he nodded. Devon looked over the napkin, “I see. I would have thanked him too then. Ah well, glad he’s having a good night. He’s avoided my attempt to annoy him with social issue discussions.” He laughed a little more, disregarding the whispering as the girl went back to her table of friends.

>> "Balcony?"

Devon nodded again, “Sure.” It was a bit odd not to know if it’d be cool or too humid for his company. It was a little odd too to wonder if it’d bother him. Only one way to find out. Water in hand, he took the quick set of steps and walked into the evening air. It was a little cool, a slight breeze, but it was extremely refreshing compared to the air downstairs.

They looked down upon the street, the line to get in curling around the corner to one side but not long enough to be beneath them. A few buildings in that direction loomed two or stories tall but they were squat directly ahead, allowed a partial view of the bay. The pier was south of them, some nice restaurants going in. He’d gone from wanting to find money for a dinner out to wanting to find time for a dinner out. Perhaps he’d let things change too quickly. Perhaps he wasn’t changing quickly enough.

Devon chuckled, “I was just thinking maybe I’m not changing fast enough for my surroundings.” He shrugged a shoulder and looked to the medic, “But you, you’re dealing with some change. How’d you find out if you don’t mind me asking?”

Devon seemed the slightest bit uneasy. Whether that was AJ as a person or AJ as an adapted, he wasn't sure. There just seemed to be some level of hesitation to Devon's actions, like he had to stop and think when he didn't necessarily have to usually.

Or maybe AJ was being overly sensitive because of the girls whispering. Technically, he didn't care what they thought, but the difference between a technicality and reality were sometimes staggering. So he suggested they step away. He clearly wasn't going to catch up with his co-workers tonight. That burden was gone now. But also, he wasn't sure if he should stay now that he didn't have to.

AJ moved around the open door and found a spot to lean his elbows against the solid stone rail. He caught the barest hint of airflow and it was everything he'd hoped to find outside. His eyes swept across the view, but it was a pretty typical fare for a New York evening: buildings and people, lights and motion. The city never slept. It might take a moment in the wee hours to exhale, but they were nowhere near that. The building facing them was across the street, at least.

> “I was just thinking maybe I’m not changing fast enough for my surroundings.”

That was a curious thought and he couldn't help but wonder what prompted it. AJ swapped around so he could lean his back against the railing and still keep his elbows in place. It was natural to be curious about what he was. Heck, AJ was still figuring out what it all meant.

"Somebody told me. A mutant, I guess." The facade of the building that the club was in looked nicer, the further up he looked. The more mutants he met, the more he noticed a certain amount of cringing in his proximity. That was easy to overlook when he only ever saw people in the worst pain of their lives as he so often did.

"Donnie said I had the magic touch." Which sounded half obvious and half stupid, now. AJ remembered reaching out and praying that the bubble would come down on Halloween so that they didn't have to march into the unknown or wait through more screams. Had it been his doing somehow? Or just coincidence?

"You can tell too, can't you?" Devon said he could keep cool with his powers. And AJ had seen the guy go full on flying. So it didn't seem like too much of a reach to guess based on what he saw now. "But, not in a life-crippling sort of way, I hope."

>> "Somebody told me. A mutant, I guess."

Devon chuckled, “Makes sense.”

He also noted with the distance between them he could feel – no see – the humidity in the air. The air currents were lines and patterns. The wind waited for his call. It really was a small field for AJ’s adapted ability. In the alley, at the bar, on the dance floor, up the stairs, but put more than a couple feet between them and things were normal. Well, in the way that having supernatural abilities was normal.

>> "Donnie said I had the magic touch."

Devon nodded, his business idea coming to mind again. And here was an Adapted with medical training…

>> "You can tell too, can't you?"

Another nod and a wide smile were given as he sipped his drink. He leaned back into the opposite corner of the balcony, one hand spread out to support him and the other holding the water as it rested on the perpendicular railing.

>> "But, not in a life-crippling sort of way, I hope."

“Oh no, not at all. In fact, I was reviewing and I think your field is about two or three feet. I have my abilities now and while I do like them, I don’t need them to survive. The physical mutations of my abilities are limited to my eyes. They turn black when I actively influence something,” Devon explained. “I’m atmokinetic. I can influence the weather.”

His eyes swam with inky darkness before becoming wholly black as Devon turned away to regard the city. He thought of the temperature as he studied the ambient heat in the air, a mixture of the resonant molecules but also that coming off the buildings. He urged more warm air to come in from the north, primarily Manhattan where the tall construct buildings like held onto it. Soon it’d feel almost 65.

Devon slowly looked back, his eyes quickly returning to normal. “It’s going to get far more comfortable outside, though I’m not sure if you’ll feel it or not. Normally adapted fields stop abilities but since I’m changing the prevailing conditions maybe you’ll at least get to enjoy the warmer temperature,” he said with a grin and a warm tone. He shrugged and finished his water.

“I would agree you have a magic touch though it has more to do with your healing skill and knowledge,” Devon went on. “What got you into the field?”