He was still holding the ticket... Why... Why was he still holding the ticket? A stinging cold thought swam up through the murkiness that was his shocked mind scape. It was a clear voice, his own, put a part of him that was made of twisted metal and clockwork... Because you're a moron... The ticket, which had been crushed into a tight ball in his left hand, fell into the small stream in the gutter and floated away. And with it, floated some of Maxwell's remaining innocence.

Today had been a bad day. Firstly, he had woke in his hotel room with the largest headache the world had ever seen. It was so big, Max thought it would end the world. But the sun still rose (To his whimpers and even penetrated the small cocoon he made of blankets.) so he had to eventually get up. But he only did so after he had raided the booze in the mini-fridge to try and dull his senses somewhat, while also raiding the food so that his stomach would stop grumbling. The night before seemed bleary and miserable, his ego and shoulders still bruised from activities that he could not remember at the time. All he could remember was the taste of... sick? The sound of a harsh womans voice and a bolt of ligtning...

He puzzled over it for a while, before the booze told him to get up. He did so, taking a shower and trying to clean out his mouth (With more Alkie-hol!). Then he had to bury his arm into his suitcase to find new clothes. He was running low on clean clothes at the moment. Laundry would be done later. After he went out and scratched this... itch that he seemed to have.

Well, that had led him to this point. Stood in the pouring rain that seemed to follow Maxwell about this city. He had gone to the Dog Races, with all of his money. All of it. All of his inheritance from his late dead mother... And he had squandered it. Like it was nothing. Sure, a large amount had been given to the crew of the cargo-ship that had brought him to America. A large amount had been spent on various hotels all of New York State, to try and hide... But to loose almost a hundred thousand dollars in a single afternoon... To dirty bookies and the proper gambling channels... He wasn't even addicted to it! But he kept going, and going, and going. Probably just to sabotage himself. And now he was lost in another country. Without a penny to his name.

Things looked bad... But he was sure he could make them worse...

Meld found herself at the dog races holding the last of the money that Bear had given her some time ago. She was actually surprised at just how long the money had lasted, but then again Sanctuary took care of all of her essential needs she she really didn't have to many other expenses. Nevertheless she was bored and needed some extra spending money and thought a day of petty gambling among the masses of humanity would be just what she needed. If she was fortunate she might end up with an extra couple hundred dollars and if not then at least she had killed a few hours with some enjoyable entertainment.

Meld held her ticket in her hand and watched as her pick for the race lost. Again. She growled audibly and glared at a nearby human who stopped to stare at her. This was exactly why she didn't tend to gamble; it was too unpredictable and she had an unfortunate tendency to lose more than she won and not for the first time she bemoaned the promise she had made to the director of Sanctuary. Would a little petty theft really be considered getting into that much trouble? She was good at running from the cops, they didn't have to connect it to her or to Sanctuary. Never mind the fact that she was somewhat noticeable, with her metal limbs. But it would just make things so much easier...

With a dramatic and slightly self-pitying sigh Meld got to her feet. She was out of money so there really wasn't any reason to remain here. Just as she was leaving, however, she spotted a familiar face. Was that Crystal Arm from the club from last night? It couldn't be could it? She walked closer to get a better look, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun, one of the reasons she preferred being out at night. Upon closer inspection it did appear to be him and he looked rather despondent.

"Hey!" she called, waving her gloved hand in his direction. It was customary for her to cover her metal hand when she knew she was going to be around so many humans. "Do you remember me from the other night?" She knew he hadn't been happy with the words she had said to him but that didn't change that she had been speaking the truth and that despite his dislike of her words, she still wanted to help him. And judging by the way he was presently carrying himself, she had a feeling that he really needed some help.

What really would have amused him, if he had been sat at home and this entire scenario had been played out as a television program, was the fact that he still stood outside the dog track. Tickets, all of them losers, were scattered around the sidewalk. Some where being tossed from side to side by the wind, others were being trampled by punters that had finished their day at the Dogs and decided that they should go somewhere else. To their homes. Home. He kept thinking that word... It kept springing up in his mind. Home would be back at the manor house, wouldn't it? No... Home would be with his mother. But she was dead. And now he was poor.

Heh... A desperate man would bend down to see if that slip that had just blown onto his shoe was a winning slip. A sign that he should never really give up on the odds. Maxwell knealt down, to... He told himself to tie his shoelaces. But his hand grabbed the slip on his shoe and he brought to his face for inspection. Loser. Well, there was another one near by. In arms reach. He picked it up and flipped it over. Loser. Now, he leant forward, until he had both knees on the floor. He searched through the many tickets that littered the floor, people avoiding his pepper haired head and looking down with disgust and the one-gloved scrounger...

>>"Hey! Do you remember me from the other night?"

Now, Maxwell stopped. His head snapped up and something stirred in the back of his mind. A feeling of shame that took him back years, when he had been found with his hand in the cookie jar, kneeling on the counter and swinging dangerously from one of the cabinet doors. He stood up instantly, straighting his back and almost head-butting someone. They bounce of him and moved back into the crowd, like a human-school of fish. Things just got worse.

Meld watched Crystal Arm's display of desperation with a combination of pity and anger. She growled again, this time in disgust. He was a mutant and he should act like it! It wasn't befitting of someone belonging to the superior species t be acting as such. He was a disgrace. She sighed trying to let go of her anger and look at things more logically. Perhaps what he really needed was a friend, someone who understood what he was going through, someone to help him through this time. It was hard to remember, sometimes, that she had once been in a very similar position of being desperate, hopeless and ashamed of what she was. The difference was that she had come to accept and then embrace herself which led to her finding a better life. Maybe with her help Crystal Arm would be able to do the same.

Having come to some sort of decision, and hoping that she wasn't going to regret it, Meld began walking purposely towards the mutant with the crystal arm. Secretly she found it amusing that they were both one gloved mutants. Maybe it was some sort of sign. Meld saw him notice her and watched as he tried to get himself lost in the crowd. Heh. Seems he did remember her and probably remembered what she said to him also. But just because he didn't like what she had to say didn't mean that it wasn't true. And, she was certain, he would thank her in the end, when she finally did manage to get through to him and help him turn his life around. The fact that he obviously didn't want her help was entirely irrelevant.

Meld pursued him through the crowd relentlessly, determined that he would not escape her sights. Then again, she did know where he lived so its not like it would be difficult to find him again if need be. Through a combination of weaving through the crowd and either intimidating out of her way or pushing out of her way, she slowly gained on the fleeing mutant, with the intent of cornering him. He would talk to her, it was only a matter of time. He couldn't keep running forever, eventually she would catch up to him. "Are you that afraid of me?" she called out. "Or is it that you're afraid of what I'll show you?"

Maxwell wasn't purposely moving away from her. He was just walking very fast in the opposite direction, being knocked back and forth between the people that were leaving and entering the track. Now, he swerved this way and that, making his way to the street corner where he hoped he could duck out from her eyesight. It didn't work so well, since he was taller then many other people in the crowd. He heard her making her way through the crowd, leaving a stream of mutterings behind her. Max ducked his head down and was just about to break through the line of people onto the road when he heard her shout.

>>"Are you that afraid of me? Or is it that you're afraid of what I'll show you?"

Max had two choices. Choice A) Break into a run, across the street and hope not to get hit by a cab. There was a side alley not too far away that he could slip down and would loose himself and her in. But that was the cowards way out. And he doubted he could out run her, even if he tried. She had metal limbs but he had one heavy crystal arm. Choice B) Stand there and ask her what she meant. Maybe get in a fight. Maybe find out something universe changing and life saving. He thought that it would be more likely that the two of them got in a fight, although she seemed to... want to help him.

He hadn't turned around, to look at her yet. He was afraid to. But the simple notion that someone gave the smallest thought to him made him half laugh, his face stretching into a tiny smirk. The one person who wanted to actually help him, to make sure that he didn't suffer, was his mother. She was dead now. So this woman was obviously looking at some sort of angle. He just had to figure out what so he could avoid it completely. And he could only do that by... A shudder ran through him... By talking.

"Well... Truth be told, I am afraid of you. Deathly afraid... You're an intimidating woman..." He half turned from the road now, people swarming around him so the could cross the road. "And not only because of... of those..." He half gestured with his left hand, pointing her legs ungraciously. "But mostly... I don't remember last night. And I figure you might have given me the bruises on my back or somehow contributed to it..."

Meld was glad when Crystal Arm finally stopped fleeing in the opposite direction, hoping that it meant he was finally willing to calm down and speak rationally to her. She almost started laughing when he told her that he was deathly afraid of her, fairly certain that that would not be the best way to go about this. She knew that she tended to be a little...overbearing at times and she wouldn't have found it at all strange had this man been human and had that opinion. After all, it was quite evident that she was in a league of her own compared to them. She could tear any one of them to shreds if she so desired and there wasn't a whole lot that any of them could do about it. But this man was a mutant just as she was and, from what she had seen the other night, quite a capable one at that. What did he have to fear from her?

"It wasn't me that put those bruises on you," she said completely serious. "There was a brawl and most of us got a little beaten up. You don't remember anything?" She considered this and decided that he must remember something, at least in a fuzzy sort of way. The way he had reacted to her was proof enough of that. She also spent a moment to consider exactly how she should broach the subject of helping him and figuring out what kind of help, exactly, he needed. She didn't want to scare him off again.

"Look," she said finally. "I don't mean to scare you. All I want to do is help. You're a mutant, just like me, and judging from the other night and the way you're acting today, it just seemed like you might need a little help. Many of us aren't fortunate enough to have someone there in our times of need so, if there's anything I can do, I want you to know I'll be here for you." It came out a little awkwardly since she wasn't used to making such speeches, wasn't really used to offering to help at all, but she figured she got her point across.