It wasn’t a great part of town. It was a place you tended to only go if you had to be there, whether the reason was business or because you lived there. Nobody came there to visit and if you just so happened to find yourself there, even in broad daylight, you tended to try to get out as quickly as you could, but without running. No sense looking like prey.

Rex shut the door to the Widow Roosevelt’s home gently behind him. He’d been by to drop off groceries she’d ordered and to deliver a care package from their church. She was getting very up in years and lately had been nearly homebound due to one medical issue or another. Rex was frequently asked by Father Lorenzo to check in on her, especially since her neighborhood was so rough and Rex tended to volunteer in the area a lot as it was.

The firefighter didn’t mind. It was better than going home and feeling the emptiness there.

It wasn’t very late in the day, but the sky was already showing signs of darkening. Rex just sighed and started walking down the street. He was a couple miles from home, but he didn’t mind the walk. It helped keep his mind off everything else. It also gave him an unparalleled closeness to this community he’d adopted.

One day, one day, this neighborhood can be a shining beacon in the city.

It was possible. That day might be very, very far away, but Rex believed things could get better.

He had to.

It definitely wasn't the best part of town, and Jayden hated having to be there.  Not for the reason's that other people might believe, even though he definitely did not look like he belonged.  The Coach messenger bag resting on his hip was valued more a couple of months rent for most of these units.  Anyone else probably would not even carry a knock-off in this area, but the young social worker was not concerned.  His first time coming to visit a client in the area, a group had attempted to rob him.  Unfortunately for them, most people attempting to rob someone were feeling a myriad of emotions, anxiety usually the strongest.  And for Jayden changing anxiety to fear or horror was quite easy.  A couple of times of attempted robbers being foiled by their own fear, and the mutant from the south had earned a certain reputation, though know one really knew how.

But that was also not why Jayden hated coming to the area.  It had less to do with the reputation, and more to do with the people, specifically how they were treated.  The neighborhood was in disrepair, tenants were underemployed, uninsured, and under-served by everyone.  And of course, the city's version of help was an urban development plan that would make it too hard for the residents to live their, forcing them into even worse areas.  The cycle of urban development and forced migration was only one cog in the war on the poor and infringed, a war Jayden was a frontline soldier against.  That was the reason he was in the neighborhood today, conducting clinical therapy outside of the walls of his agency.  Depression, anxiety, personality disorders, all were prevalent in the community, all were barriers to employment and self-improvement, but they could be managed with the right help.  So his agency sent him out under the guise of Community Support and Resiliency.

Jayden continued down the street, having left a young client who was having trouble in school, that was really stemming from the volatile situation in his home.  From his bag he pulled out the tablet from his job, planning to start some tentative oral notes and also check for his next appointment.  Engrossed in his device, and making sure to notate the progress of his client the social worker with an attitude was paying attention as he traversed on the sidewalk, not until he bumped into something unexpected. 

His breath fogged in the air as Rex walked by a small basketball court with a chain link fence and no net around the rim. There was a handful of teenagers and younger kids playing - it was rare to see a kid alone in this place - but they seemed to be having fun regardless. Rex thought he recognized one or two of them from prior dealings on the street, but he had no personal connections there. Certainly not enough to just stand and watch kids being kids.

Especially when he hadn’t seen his own kids in nearly two years.

Rex forced himself to keep walking, lest his thoughts be consumed once again by that dark rabbithole. Those deep dwellings that kept sucking him down over and over.

There was a squawk of alarm and suddenly Rex realized he wasn't the only distracted pedestrian on the street.

“D’oh!” cried a flamboyantly dressed clown as he executed a perfect pratfall after a man walked into him. The clown’s feet flew out from under him and he came straight down on his butt, where a whoopee cushion had previously been placed. A brown paper bag full of dozens and dozens or….gimmicks, they looked like….flew into the air. Fake vomit, colorful strips of cloth, a stuffed bunny, and heaps of rubber balls went everywhere.

“Huh,” the clown said. “I’ve been wanting to take a trip lately, but not like this!”

Rex immediately stooped over to start picking things up. “Here, let me help.” Anything to get his mind out of the gloom.

Jayden was shocked, for a number of reasons.  For a brief moment the bright colors of the clown's get up initially made the social worker think his mutant ability had flared, and he was seeing the emotional aura of the man on the ground.  It took a moment for him to realize that the riot of bright colors was in fact just what the entertainer was wearing.  It was another few seconds of starring before he realized there was another person there as well, already bending down to help. 

"Oh gods, I'm so sorry!" Jayden exclaimed as he bent down to help brush the clown off and pick up some of his dropped effects and paraphernalia. 

As he began to help the clown, Jayden looked him over with a look of even greater surprise and not a small amount of unveiled derision.  Jayden was not afraid of clowns, but  he also had no great love for them.  The self-mockery and over the top antics were antithesis to everything the young mutant considered to be of substance.  It also did not help that the clothing and colors were so hideous that he could not understand how even children could find entertainment in them.  And this neighborhood was the last place Jayden ever expected to see a clown.

Still, dislike or not, it cost nothing to be helpful, "Especially when you are the one who knocked the fool down" he thought to himself. 

Sparring brief glance for the other person working to help the clown, Jayden's eyes widen in a flash of shock.

"Sweet Mother" he whispered, or at least he thought he whispered.  

The man was quite handsome, and very unfamiliar.  A flash of gold-tinged pink swam across his vision, and Jayden realized that he had lost his usually tightly controlled emotions.  The color indicated interest and desire.  Jayden quicky engaged in a mindfulness distraction technique he used with some of his clients to get his emotions under control.  When the colors faded Jayden directed his attention fully to the other man. 

"Thank you, but you don't have to help.  It was my fault, I wasn't paying attention" he said, finally helping the clown up to his feet and continuing to brush him off.  Ridiculous as the outfit was, it didn't have to be dirty to add insult to injury. 

Behind the red rubber nose and the facepaint, the clown’s eyes lit up and he caught his breath. “Oh,” he said slowly, settling into a pleased look as a grin stretched across his face. “Helloooo sailor! What’s a guy like you doing in a port like this?” He reached up and squeezed a fake flower pinned over his left pec. It squeaked.

Rex, for his part, was gathering a few undersized instruments into a tiny pile. A trumpet, a mini accordion, even a little drum. As the normally-dressed man stooped down to join him and apologize, Rex brushed it off. “No need - I’m happy to help,” he said. “It’s good to help others.”

Helping others meant he didn’t have to think about himself, or what he had lost. No, not lost. Merely…displaced. You will get them back some day.

It was just a moment when he slid back into the sunken reverie, his thoughts dwelling on past and common angst, but it was still enough to miss the clown’s sudden head swivel and widening of his smile.

“Heading to a party?” Rex asked the clown, hoping to divert attention. The clown’s smile drooped a bit.

“Something like that,” the clown said, refusing to be the first to take his hand away from the other man’s. “Let’s just say a couple of guys are going to have a night they’ll never forget.”

“Oh. OH!” Rex’s cheeks burned a bit. The clown’s grin grew wider.