They were days l like these that Maximillian felt much better about himself. While one should have felt special and inspired from joining the Happy X-Men Fun Group, as he did a while ago, he hadn't been doing much to change his ways. Such that, he was starting to reach out, and do more things on his own. He knew he needed to lower his social guard, as by keeping it up, he would obtain nothing. Mutated or otherwise. Such that, he started helping out at shelters for the homeless and the unfortunate. Cheesily nice, he found that his ability, when controlled, could help calm the people he was near. It may have been temporary, but it was useful. There was no need to tell them that he was a mutant. It would have only cause problems. They would have probably enjoyed the idea of a normal teenaged boy helping them out rather than a freaky one with deformed DNA.

Apart from using his ability for only positive things, Fox had also been training more and more in the Danger Room. While he was apprehensive at first, an encounter with another student caused him to realize little could be done for your point-of-view when you stand there, and do not fight back as well. Such that, he was learning the sorts of effects his emotions had over his powers, in a more-detailed form. If he had a wish to be granted, it would have definitely have been courage. Like the Lion from The Wizard of Oz, he lacked much of a backbone. Also, he was horrid at making decisions. He did wish to use his abilities as a mutant in a more-helpful manner than donating his open time to the homeless shelter, but there weren't too many hysterical events taking place randomly on the street when he happened to be on them. Fox did envision himself with a medical forces team, mostly there to calm down the patients from their emotional state. On the other hand, however, he was unaware of how he would handle blood and disaster.

It was a cool day with a light overcast, and he was feeling overall well about himself. He had no objective in mind as he walked down the hot sidewalk in the New York City streets. Just the idea of being out and about with people was enough thrill and excitement for him. He was learning much about them. Both good and bad things, and after a while, he had trouble treating them in a way that wasn't psychological. He had problems with over-analyzing things. Smiling softly, he thought of thoughts of comfort, trying his very best to throw off anxiety and other neuroses. He had finally reached one of those streets where the crowds seemed to die away, and the buildings on either side of them were such tall apartments that it grew degrees cooler, and you might have thought it were an alley. He stopped walking, and blinked. He hadn't even remembered how he ended up where he was, but Fox wasn't too afraid of getting back. Instead of heading back instantly though, he kept walking, seeing a strip of green in the far distance.

It came to pass, that the green was a strip of trees, that lined three of the four sides of a community park, which lay deserted in the small district. It was quite rare to find a green area in NYC, no matter how small the park was. Wondering how far he really was, he wandered into the area, hoping there wasn't a fine for loitering or something. Finding no one around from what he could tell, Maximillian walked over the wooden chips and onto a tire swing. It brought back memories of Oregon, and his town there. Maximillian half-missed it. He'd thought of going back for a visit, but the trip would have been a waste, and awkward as hell. So, he breathed deeply, swung faster, and remained basked in his memories with his eyes closed. They were days like these that he felt almost human.

Flynn walked invisibly across the small plot of grassy park. He was on his way back to the brownstone after gathering his things from Grand Central Station. His military web belt and his firearm might come in handy. He had gotten some cloth to make his costume from three local tailors. Now if his sewing skills were any good he would be prepared for a patrol tomorrow evening. He was thinking of various implements to store in the belt: Pepper bombs, smoke grenades, perhaps some sort of sonic device. Maybe Wraith could help him make something like that. He would have to ask. of course some first aid items would have to be placed in the belt as well. His Kevlar could be used under the costume as well. He whistled soundlessly as he walked on,

All of a sudden, he couldn't remember what he was thinking. His power kicked out without the little bit of concentration needed to keep it going. He didn't realize the man he was walking past in the swing was a mutant. Nor had he known that the mutant's barely visible aura would confuse him. He had thought it a trick of the light and nothing more. Instead the brown haired 22 year old with a Duffel filled with various items strapped to his back had appeared like a ghost in front of the swinging guy, all bewildered.

Not even realizing it himself, Flynn kept on walking, past the guy sitting there and out of sight around the corner. After nearly half a block, Flynn recovered himself and realized his visibility. Instead of going back to check out why he had gone visible, he just kept moving on.

<OOC: I'm out a this thread. Been waiting a month for the reply so now modified and on to the next one>