McNulty's Tea and Coffee was perhaps Ezra's third favorite place in the city, following closely behind his garden (his second favorite) and the New York Public Library (his first). It had been established over a century prior, and still had the vintage vibes that felt so much like home to the homunculus. Teas and tinctures kept in glass jars along the window, cute teapots lined the windows... it felt like home, and smelled like herbs. 

The svelte man had become somewhat of a regular fixture in the shop, stopping in routinely to purchase tea bags and partake in a beverage. He was nothing more than a whisper, but the shop attendants seemed to enjoy his presence. Or, at the very least, they didn't seem to mind him.

It should have been like any other venture to the tea shop. Get a few teas, and perhaps a drink, and then venture home. Today seemed a rather busy day, however. In the oppressive heat of the late afternoon, more than the usual number of patrons had ventured in and purchased teas or coffees, and thus a line snaked its way towards the back of the store.

Ezra joined the cue, his hands wrapped tightly around a fine collection of teas. If anyone caught his gaze (and there were plenty who were prone to staring), he'd nod in their direction, but otherwise he'd make no attempt at engaging them. Sometimes it was more polite to let people stare, rather than engage them.

Whatever advertising the shop had done was working. Big time. That was both good and bad since AJ sat huddled with far too many anatomy books stacked and open on a table for two. He could easily have filled a table for four and he loved to spread out, but with the crowd he'd been lucky to get a table at all.

His tea cup warmed him from the hands up as he reviewed the pulmonary system. Not that AJ was chilly, but there was something centering about a cup of tea. Someone bumped his table and he had to reach out a hand to steady his teapot-for-one in its knitted cozy. That was happening more and more as the shop had filled up. He should leave, probably, but he still had some tea and studying to go. And his notes were not complete. If he was going to do well on his next quiz, he needed to finish.

AJ moved his notes and had to set the teapot aside in order to shuffle his books around. That meant the pot was set at the very edge-most spot of the table, precariously perched out of the way of the moving study materials. There was just not enough room.

The line was painstakingly slow, with patrons only shuffling a few steps forward each minute. Perhaps one of the cashiers had not shown-up for work today? It seemed like they only had two register running, from Ezra's vantage point-- one in the cafe, and one for other patrons, and both lines were relatively busy. Ah, well. Nothing to do but wait patiently and take in the scenery.

The homunculus's gaze flitted over the familiar shelves, over often-ignored corners and patrons that won't looking his way. It was interesting to see what a "tea drinker" looked like, as the crowd was decently varied (even in a shop like this). 

The line moved forward once again, and he absently bumped against one of many small cafe tables.

"My apologies," he said to the table's occupant, his gaze not venturing beyond their opened books and their pot of tea. They were probably too engrossed in their studies to have even noticed his faux pas.

Ezra returned his gaze to the front of the line, and it was about then that his vision began to swim. He tried to blink his eyes back into focus, to no avail. His head reeled, the corners of his vision darkening.

The world tilted, and then went black. Ezra hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, sloughing off of the person behind him and armful of teas rolling forth from his lifeless arms.

Someone was humming the child's song "Dem Bones" and for once it wasn't AJ. He doubted whoever it was noticed what they were doing. Even AJ, after a quick scan and yet another steadying of his teapot, couldn't place the person humming along merrily.

Whatever. It likely wasn't a jibe. He shook his head and swapped his notes around again. He'd lost the top page somewhere and if the man who'd just bumped his table would kindly stop doing that— Except this time the bump was far greater. AJ's hand went immediately for the teapot. He was too slow to catch the man from teetering over into the people in line behind, but AJ thankfully wasn't too slow to save his notes.

He hopped up with teapot in hand before the ladies nearby had finished clutching their pearls. The fellow that had collapsed was helpfully shuffled to the floor and AJ passed his teapot to the nearest bystander with strict instructions that they dial 9-1-1. People always did better when specifically rasked in an emergency.

AJ knelt and looked for a pulse, breathing, airway blockage, anything obvious. Please let it be something obvious. Instead, his heart sank the more he observed. The man was covered in a spiderweb of scars. His nose was... There wasn't really a nose there. Not to mention the vitals that seemed to continue to wane for no discernable reason.

Except one bothersome little tickle in the back of AJ's brain that told him this was his fault.

The medic felt along the man's sternum to help position his hands for CPR and he felt something solid and hard like a gemstone or a broch.

Definitely not movable. Definitely not normal.

"Do you know how to do CPR?" He pulled another bystander in close and walked him through the process. But he didn't dare stay.

No. This couldn't be his fault.

Could it?

Unconsciousness (or for less delicate individuals, “death") was different from stasis. Stasis descended upon Ezra gradually, as one might drift-off for a pleasant mid-afternoon catnap. Unconsciousness was like someone flicking the light of the world “off". One moment he was in line with his chamomile tea, the next-- nothing. Unseen by Ezra, the antecedent to his sudden and spontaneous “death” moved just out of range, calling for bystanders to notify 9-1-1, heralding for someone to perform CPR, and the likes. In the cramped business, patrons hummed little agitated gnats.

The hum of people may have been disrupted by the sudden gasp that exploded from Ezra as he came-to. It was a wholly unnecessary action, for he didn't breath, but he did it regardless. Knobby fingers twisted into his shirt as his golden eyes tried to focus on the too-bright tea shop. He became gradually aware of the presence of too many eyes, all trained on him-- and he seemed to be in the company of giants, for they all loomed over him.

“Gracious,” he breathed. He then noticed that those were his legs splayed outwardly, and that he was on the floor, “Good heavens!”

The homunculus shakily got to his feet-- quite the feat for someone who'd apparently been on death's doorstep moments prior. That… hadn't happened to him before. How had that happened? Was something amiss with his gem? He couldn't very well survey it here. Golden eyes swam blearily around. Disjointedly he assumed he knew this place, but he'd need to see the sign to be sure.

Truthfully, the homunculus was more than a little shaken.

“H-humbly, I beg your pardon,” he said hurriedly, before shakily picking his way towards the door. For a moment, as he passed the antecedent to his near-death, the room tilted. Ezra managed to find his way to the door, however, and shakily descended a trio of stairs to the sidewalk. In his franticness, he'd forgotten his tea on the floor.

It was good that just a few seconds passed before the prone man gasped back to consciousness because the man he'd roped into attempting CRP was a big fat chicken. He hadn't even felt down the breastbone as instructed, muttering the whole time through any and all manner of excuses. The moment the passed out man regained himself, AJ's proxy jumped up and away.

> "Gracious!"

AJ sputtered and tried to reach another bystander. Pupils. Someone should check his pupils. And he had a whole slew of questions, but he was entirely too terrified to get too close.

> “Good heavens!”

And he certainly shouldn't be getting to his feet! AJ risked reaching out to offer a steadying hand on the man's elbow as she woozily stumbled past with an apology.

"Friend. Come on, now, you've only just regained--" The man tilted precariously and AJ jumped back. Not before he'd caught a glimpse of golden eyes, as if he'd had any doubt that the man was a mutant of some kind.

"Take it easy!" Was he seriously walking out the door? Like herr deer, I pass out all day every day, no big deal? AJ scrambled to grab his anatomy books and cram them in his rucksack.

"Please!"

"Uh. What do I do about dialing 9-1-1?"

"Tell them it's 10-22! I'll get him to the ER or something." He was all but jumping down the steps to follow. At a safe distance, hopefully. AJ wasn't sure yet if it was him or if the man was having a stroke.

Some man was talking urgently to Ezra but anxiety made the words whirl in his ears, words like “friend” and “regain”. It didn't take any stretch of the imagination to piece together what was being said. Ezra was compelled to make a break for it though. Three hundred years ago, any anomalous biology that couldn't be excused away by being God's works was attributed to the other major player for people's souls. This would bring upon the torches and pitchforks. For all of the scientific advancements over the past three centuries, humanity as a whole had remained relatively static. As such, Ezra was wary at best of the general public.

>> "Take it easy! Please!”

He would take it easy as soon as he could get a semi-decent look at the jewel embedded in his sternum. Ezra paused in the sidewalk, searching for some private corner where he could unbutton his shirt and survey the damage. That was rather ironic, seeking privacy in this bustling metropolis.

"Uh. What do I do about dialing 9-1-1?"

>> "Tell them it's 10-22! I'll get him-"

“Oh my stars,” Ezra breathed. No time to waste. The door slid closed before he could catch the latter part of the man's statement. But when people spoke in code and offered to “get him”, it was suspect. An anxious, gnarled hand curled around his tie and shirt, and Ezra scurried down the street, hazarding glances over his shoulder.

Even if someone was following him, he hadn't exactly surveyed each and every face in the shop. His pursuer had the advantage, there. Ezra followed a crosswalk signal to the other side of the street, into a small park that occupied one corner of a block. He strode past joggers and mothers with strollers, vendors with carts. Finally he spied an open bench. It wasn't exactly a covert place to steal-away to, but Ezra's head was reeling with fear. He'd… blacked-out. Just like that. Such a thing had never happened before.

The spindly-limbed man plopped gracelessly onto the bench, hands already loosening the necktie around his neck. Was it his gem? Another person? Him? Despite the thoroughness if Doctor Frankenstein's notes, there were still questions for which Ezra didn't have the answer. Ezra placed his palm to his sternum, searchingly, but he couldn't feel anything through the fabric of his shirt. Trembling hands began to undo the top buttons of his dress shirt, his mouth pinching against the anxiety that roiled in him. Ezra gave a haggard sigh, and put this hand to his chest again. Cool fingertips grazed an even cooler gemstone. He felt along the beveled edges where skin met stone, along the slick red surface. No imperfections. Nothing new anyway. He hazarded a glance down. Nothing weird at a glance, either. He couldn't really, thoroughly inspect it until he got home though.

AJ was either too slow or the man was really that fast. AJ hopped down the three staired stoop all at once and cast about for the long-limbed mutant that clearly needed medical attention. He was difficult to miss, even half a block away, considering his height.

But to be running away like that, the man was clearly avoiding medical attention.

Or maybe he was scared. Maybe AJ could convince him. Or give him a quick check and rule out some quickly identifiable worries like stroke, concussion, or epilepsy. Already the medical technician was running down his mental checklist while he jogged to catch up. At more than a foot shorter than the gaunt mutant man, he had to take more than a few extra steps to get close.

But also not too close. The man seemed to half-collapse onto a bus bench and AJ stopped running. It wasn't like he was in trouble. And AJ couldn't force medical attention on him unless he was unconscious. The man being conscious and moving even this far was a good indication that he was going to be alright.

"Hey." He called out from a more than healthy distance, not winded from the jog or his bag full of books. AJ knew his field of influence wasn't over large, but he still had trouble gauging where it began or ended. He held his hands up in what he hoped was a non-threatening way.

"Hi. Hello." He amended, once he thought he might have the man's attention. "I work in emergency medical situations. I just wanted to double check that you're doing okay." Was his skin supposed to be that color? It was like baking chocolate croissants, the color made it difficult to tell if something was wrong.

>> “Hey.”

Ezra started at the greeting. Okay, so maybe the fainting spell in the tea-shop had made him jumpy. A quivering hand settled upon his chest, lightly patting his sternum. Saucer-like, amber eyes swiveled onto the bearded man. Was he speaking to Ezra?

>> “H-hello.”

“Good afternoon…” the homunculus said carefully, bowing his head politely. There was a quiver in his tone, a noticeable anxiousness. Almost as if he was about to cry.

>> “I work in emergency medical situations. I just wanted to double-check that you’re doing okay.”

He’d been in the tea-shop. Ezra looked away timidly, his expression stretching in a bashful frown.

“I… uh, thank you, I mean…” he fumbled, perhaps almost too quiet to hear, “I, um, I’m okay.”

His tone was very clearly not-okay, and Ezra knew this, but if this guy was some sort of doctor, he didn’t want to raise any flags. No sir, because flags were an invitation for overzealous sorts to poke around, and that was the last thing that Ezra wanted.

… to say that he had anxieties around medical professionals was a gross understatement.

“That is to say… no, no-“ he corrected quickly, “-it’s nothing that concerns a man of science. But I appreciate the concern. Indeed, I do.”

Ezra was tempted to make another hasty exit, but he was certain the man would follow. So, he stayed on the bench, anxiously wringing his hands. He seemed positively miserable.

“S-sir,” he said quickly, “I didn’t… fall on anyone… did I? I mean, of course I fell on someone, I was in a queue, but did I… injure anyone?”

He made his excuses, but AJ wasn't buying it. The quiver in his voice, the hesitancy to his movements... he wasn't exhibiting any hallmarks of a stroke with slurred speech or anything overtly alarming. Mostly, the man just seemed... scared. And that was fair for an overt mutant. Times had been unkind to many, mutants who couldn't hide had gotten a lot of the worst of that.

"No. Nobody's hurt. You didn't even upend any tea or anything." AJ decided that where he was ended up being close enough. He didn't dare share the bench. That was likely too close. He also didn't dare reach out. The man was skittish and all AJ's training was screaming for him to keep his distance just to give him the solitude he seemed to crave. So AJ knelt where he was, putting one knee down and easing his heavy rucksack from his shoulder.

"I asked someone to call an ambulance, but you don't exactly seem like you need one. Is that... normal for you? Are you sure you're not ill?"

The gangly mutant breathed a sigh, a knobby hand fluttering to his chest.

"Thank heavens," Ezra remarked, cracking a smile, "Spilled tea would have been… infinitely worse than falling onto someone, I think."

His fingers had knotted themselves in the fabric of Ezra's shirt, attempting to hide the gem from the other man's prying eyes. The distracted smile slipped away again when the man mentioned that help had been called for. The man seemed kind enough, but the idea that even more men (or women) of medicine might join them sent an unpleasant thrill through the homunculus. In his alarm, Ezra released the fabric of his dress shirt and got quickly to his feet.

He didn't bolt this time, however. He was frozen. For in his hasty rise from the bench, he'd released his shirt and revealed his gemstone to the man before him.

"It is… an aberration from what I am accustomed to," he advised the man, "H… however, I am not certain that a person of… science or medicine… can explain it."

Ezra hurriedly started to button his shirt, concealing the gemstone once again.

"And… and for that matter, I do not… c-consent to being turned into a pincushion for the sciences! No offense intended."

He couldn't quell the trembling in his hands enough to button his shirt. If he had a functioning heart, he was sure it would be hammering against his ribs.

A smile was a good sign, the joke an even better one. The genial tone did not last for long, however. The man seemed... distracted. Or maybe shaken. But AJ was more and more convinced that whatever this was, was his fault. That was double, triple confirmed when the object that he had felt, the smooth stone, was exposed on the man's chest.

An aberration that no science could explain? That sounded like a mutation to AJ. But the next part nearly knocked him on his ass. He knew that mutants got the raw end of the deal on a lot things, but considering the context of the scars and the hesitance...

"No offense taken. You can always decline medical intervention. Always. It's just that, moments ago you couldn't give it." Er. Wait. That didn't come out right. AJ held up his open hands in an attempt to placate the man. "No one will make you a pin cushion. Just tell them no thanks. I mean, you're ambulatory and from here, you seem fine." And there was no way AJ was getting closer. He didn't want to check his own personal theories on that.

"Just say it's a quirk of your mutation. No big deal."