Twyla wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and proceeded to get soapy water on her face. She shook her head to keep it out of her eyes and focused herself on the task at hand. The sun had been too hot to work in at first but after she changed into a sports tank that she had found at the bottom of her duffel bag and a pair of her older brother’s old cargo shorts she was more comfortable. She was almost done with this car and there were only a few left in the lot. It had been a few months since her flight from home and she was running low on money and therefore food. She had seen the signs advertising this carwash and barbeque for some charity or school or something and when Twyla had asked the girls if she could work for food they had gladly given her their sponges and towels in favor of sitting under the shade by the grill and picnic tables. One girl had even given her five dollars. It might not have been fair that Twyla was the only one working on their fund-raiser but at this point five dollars was five dollars and that food smelled awfully good to a girl who hadn’t eaten yet today.

By now Twyla had been up and down the coast and had visited most of the major cities along the way. She had been in New York City already but something about it made her want to come back. It had scared her the first time pretty badly, but now not much phased her. Twyla was always cautious, but she was no longer the paranoid girl who had been scared of her own shadow on that first train out of the Midwest. Maybe it was the fact that there was enough diversity in New York to cover up her awkwardness or maybe it was the fact that Twyla had heard about lots of other mutants living around New York City that brought her back. Twyla wasn’t sure but what she did know that it was her first day back and it felt nice to see a few familiar sights for the first time in what seemed like ages.

Regardless of the underlining reasons, here she was, scrubbing bugs off the front end of a very nice looking car in NYC, for five dollars and the promise of a half decent meal. It didn’t take much concentration to change her hand to match the metallic paint of the car–Twyla’s powers came easily after some time spent practicing. Metallic surfaces, especially in the daytime, were harder to keep up though. It took some thinking to make sure she was reflective and that her shininess looked normal. Twyla leaned over the hood so she could try making her reflection show up in her hand. She wasn’t too worried about the bikini-carwash-girls noticing her mutation, she doubted they were even looking at her, based on the constant giggling and chatter coming from the other end of the parking lot. Twyla let herself laugh at the distorted image her hand sent back to her and relaxed so that her entire arm was matching the car. The nice thing about cities was also the worst part about cities in Twyla’s opinion–there are many people who will never notice you, but the odds are greater that sometime along the line someone will.

After what seemed like a hot eternity, Twyla was finished with the cars. She returned the buckets and sponges to the giggling girls and took her five dollars and the promised burger. It was still hot from the grill, but she scarfed it down quickly and wiped her hands on her shorts before picking up her backpack and green duffel bag. Yeah, that was worth it. Twyla thought as she wiped ketchup off her cheek with the back of her hand. Sometimes she felt cheap for the things she had recently done for food or money. Although she had never compromised her morals or done anything illegal, Twyla still felt degraded for the menial way she existed.

Life back home had never been easy-peasy but that old farm house was a haven compared to the places she had crashed recently. Most recently being a crash pad for other mutants like herself that had smelled like cat pee and was smaller than her bedroom at home. Twyla had been one of the youngest in that apartment and she wasn’t interested in partaking in some of the illicit activities enjoyed by some of the other crashers. It was there where an older man with a beer in one hand and tentacles sprouting out of the other had accosted her for not joining in on the sorrow drowning. For the rest of the night everyone in that apartment had called her “Wallflower”. Twyla liked the name, she thought it fit her personality and gifts to a T.

I’m just like a wallflower. I can be invisible whenever I want to be. Twyla was suddenly struck with the urge to go totally camouflaged, even though she was walking down a semi-crowded street. This went against all the rules she had made for herself but for some reason she didn’t care. “Now you see me.” She whispered under her breath as she concentrated on matching the chainlink fence behind her. “Now you don’t.” They never see me anyway. Why should they notice now? Twyla waved and jumped up and down and none of the passerby noticed. Suddenly Twyla went ‘normal’ as she had been calling her un-camouflaged moments. She started walking quickly down the street and every time she made eye contact with a person she focused on making her face match their’s for an instant. This got her a few confused glances and she laughed. Who cares anymore? What have I got to lose at this point? She started to run down the block–not caring who’s face she wore or how many people she ran into.

Meld found herself walking down a New York street, rare for her during broad daylight. Not only did she tend to get noticed less late at night, the darkness somewhat hiding her obvious mutation, but she also tended to see better at night. Her flesh melded eye wasn't perfect and would eventually have to be replaced, it tended to bother her during bright days light this, stinging and blurring slightly. It was, in fact, the only part of her that ever felt pain, as mild as the pain usually was. She was pretty sure it was mostly mental anyway, after all, it wouldn't exactly make sense if only her eye could feel pain and the rest of her couldn't and it hadn't hurt any more to replace her eye than it did to replace any other part of her. Maybe that's why she kept delaying its replacement though; there was something human about being able to feel, even if it was feeling a negative sensation like pain, and sometimes she missed being human. Not often, and not much, but sometimes...

Meld was deep in her thoughts and almost missed the strange girl walking down the street opposite of her, approaching in her direction. At first she saw nothing unusual but then she saw the girl's face change and change again, seemingly to mirror those faces in which she passed. It was a fascinating ability, in Meld's eyes, and she knew she had to speak to this girl. She had made a point, since coming to this city, of trying to meet and befriend other mutants mutants with the hoping of also being able to help them. Not that she knew if this girl needed her help or not, but even so she would be worth talking to.

"Excuse me," Meld called out. The other seemed not to hear her and then she started running. Grinning, Meld began running after her. She didn't think the other mutant was running from her and a good chase was always fun. Batting away anyone who got in her way, Meld continued to pursue the stranger, calling out to her, "Whatever your running from I'd like to help." She didn't see any threats nearby and was normally observant of such, but that didn't necessarily mean there weren't any. Threats could come in many forms, not all of them obvious.

Twyla heard the distinct sound of running footsteps behind her. Oh great, you’ve pissed someone off. She thought angrily as she continued to run. This is why you have to be careful. Do you want to repeat Boston all over again? Twyla’s trip to Boston hadn’t gone very well the short version is that she ended up getting in a fight with a girl twice her size who had a much more active power than Twyla. She had gotten away from a severe beating only because some of the other girls weren’t as devoted to the cause of beating up a country girl as their leader was and another fight broke out, this one between the girls in the gang. Twyla wasn’t counting on ever being lucky like that again and she had taken even more severe precautions since Boston.

"Whatever your running from I'd like to help." A female voice called from behind here. Maybe not pissed...? Twyla thought, confused. She stopped running suddenly and skidded to a stop in front of a crosswalk. If I have to I can run across the street during traffic. Or I could run into one of the stores around here. People are less likely to beat kids in front of other people. I hope. Twyla mentally created a few escape plans in case her pursuer turned out to be less friendly than her comment suggested. Twyla knew she was no good in a fight–Boston had proved that fact to her. And she knew she wasn’t any good at long distance running–gym was not her favorite class. But Twyla was resourceful, or at least that’s what she told herself when she created plans. Why didn't I join track? Gymnastics and dance don't prepare you for the real world at all. As she braced herself to flee in case of a dangerous encounter Twyla glanced at her reflection in a storefront window. That’s not my face. She thought as she took in the features of an elderly woman, probably Chinese, staring back at her. Focus yourself. She took a deep breath and the face that looked back at her was tense and a bit dirty, but it was her own. Help. Help would be nice. Twyla hoped her pursuer meant what she’d said as she panted to catch her breath and faced the direction she had previously been running away from.

Meld almost ran in to the stranger as she suddenly stopped in front of her, but somehow managed not to. Which was probably a good thing, seeing as how the stranger seemed likely to bolt at a moments notice. Somehow she didn't think the girl would appreciate being ran into like that. It was bizarre watching as the girl's face changed from that of an old woman to someone much younger and much more fitting of her form but also quite fascinating. She thought she might be spending to much time with Aura recently as she seemed to be picking up her friend's fascination and attraction to the many differing types of mutant powers.

"My name's Meld," Meld said, extending her gloved hand in offer of a handshake. "And I meant what I said. You're a mutant and obviously in some kind of trouble, judging by how fast you've been running. Because you're a mutant that makes you kin, and I help my kin." Had the woman been human she wouldn't have cared one way or another. Humans, aside from not being worthy of her help, didn't often need the sort of help she could offer anyway. Life was tough for a mutant, between learning how to use their powers to dealing with humans that wishes them harm and there were very few people truly willing to help. Meld took it as her personal mission and responsibility to do everything she could to assist her fellow mutant.

"I hope I didn't frighten you by running after you. I simply couldn't think of any other way to get your attention." The girl seemed frightened enough without Meld's doing more to scare her.

Twyla’s body tensed and she took a step back when a woman, she assumed the one who had been running after her, almost ran into her. She must have seen my face change if she was so close behind me. I need to work on my speed, I was hoping I was farther away from her than that. I should’ve joined track. Twyla berated herself for not being more athletic. But how could I have known I’d ever need to run from people? The calm part of her brain argued.

Twyla looked down at the hand in front of her when the woman, Meld she said her name was, extended a gloved hand for a handshake. She’s a mutant too. That would explain why she didn’t freak when she watched me go normal. Twyla made fleeting eye contact with the woman and proceeded to shake her hand. Whoa, that’s kinda cool. Twyla thought when she saw Meld’s left eye. “I...I’m Twy- I’m Wallflower.” Twyla decided at the last second to give the woman her new nickname, she wasn’t really sure why. Maybe it was because she liked it so much.

Meld kept talking and Twyla listened intently. A small hope was growing inside her, but she tried not to let it show in her face. ‘Because you're a mutant that makes you kin, and I help my kin.’ That’s a weird comment. I’ve never heard that before. Twyla noted. And she hadn’t. Most of the other mutants she had met in her travels weren’t exactly embracing. She figured that they could tell that she wasn’t a local or something. She was used to fending for herself at this point No one ever said she was good at it, but she had survived this far with little help from others, mutant or otherwise.

“I wasn’t running from– I mean I was-” Twyla hesitantly tried to explain why she had been running. She hated how weak her voice sounded when she was nervous. She looked away from the woman to try to collect her thoughts. Don’t look now, but you’ve got no legs. She thought angrily as she saw that from the waist down she had matched the pavement and the brick of the building she was standing next to. I always go camo when I’m nervous. Focus. Explain yourself. Twyla collected herself and looked back up. “I wasn’t running away from anyone. I just had the urge to–I don’t know why. I just needed to. You know? Maybe not?” Twyla’s voice was a bit stronger, but it was still breathy and hesitant. “You didn’t --” Lying get’s you nowhere. “You did scare me...It’s okay I understand.” It’s not your fault I’m flighty as a deer. Twyla almost said out loud. She tensed up again as she realized she had loosened her stance. Focus for once. You’re not out of the woods yet. She could still try to hurt you. Don’t be so trusting.

Meld tried to smile in a friendly manner. She wanted this other woman to not be afraid of her, not be intimidated. It was strange, in a way, in the past she had always been pleased with how intimidating she could be. It served her well when she worked for the criminal underground. No one was willing to mess with her, not only because she was a mutant but also because she looked and acted dangerous. Her every movement tended to give the impression that she was someone who should be feared, someone who knew how to hurt people and it wasn't an act. It had been so long since she had tried to give off any other sort of impression that she wasn't even sure how to do so. But here she was, trying to help someone who was obviously less fortunate than herself and trying not to scare her off. Strange how fortunes tended to change sometimes.

"Its a pleasure to meet you Wallflower." She wondered if the woman was new to her mutation; it would explain why she had given two names, a code name and what she assumed was her real name. As Wallflower continued talking Meld observed the fascinating phenomenon of her legs disappearing and completely matching what was near them. Such a talent could be used in many different useful ways.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Meld said. She wasn't surprised but she was curiously a little bothered by the fact. Perhaps she just wasn't cut out for the whole friendly, helpful role. She was much better at hurting things. "And I do understand what its like to feel like you have to run but not to know what your running from. Its difficult for those of us who are different, mutants like you and I. Humans don't understand and are often violent towards us out of fear and ignorance. But I understand. I went through some difficult times when I first discovered I was a mutant and I went through them alone. But you don't have to go through them alone. There are people who are able to help you and if you would accept my help, I would like to be able to help you."

She had often wished, in those early months as a mutant after she had ran away from home, that there was someone out there who could have explained everything and made the transition from human to mutant easier but there hadn't been anyone. She had been forced to survive on her own and through her own wit, been forced for figure everything out on her own and been forced to fight off those who would do her harm because she was a mutant. It was all she could do to help someone else to know have to go through the same difficulties as she herself had been forced to go through.

Twyla’s shoulders relaxed a bit as the woman attempted to throw a smile her way. It looked to Twyla like Meld wasn’t used to smiling, but that was just her opinion. “Uh...it’s.. it’s nice to meet you too.” Chill you’re fine. Nate would tell you to ‘grow a pair’. But Nate’s not here, is he? Would he be here if he knew what I am? Would any of the rest of my family be here? Twyla pushed those confusing thoughts away and tried to concentrate on getting her legs back in order. While she sputtered her reply her arms and shoulders had started to blend into the brick as well. You’re almost shaking. Breath. First the legs go, then the arms, backpack, duffel, bring it all back in. Focus. Suddenly Twyla’s entire body went normal.

“It...it’s okay. It’s not very hard to scare me.” Twyla’s cheeks went red as she admitted out loud how much of a coward she thought she was. Meld’s next statements threw Twyla totally off guard. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she had stopped and turned around but not in the few moments of reflection that she had did she even think that she was being offered true help. Her mind went whirring with Meld’s assertion that Twyla wasn’t alone and that there were other mutants that would help her. Part of her desperately wanted to believe everything this stranger was saying. Coincidentally, that part of her was also petitioning to cry at the same instant. Don’t you dare. The practical part of her brain argued with her tear ducts. You haven’t cried once since you’ve left home. If you can be strong for months you can resist the urge now. Crying doesn’t solve anything. Besides, you don’t know this woman. She could be lying to you. She could be like the people who took Mark away.

Mark was a boy in Twyla's graduating class and they had been friends since kindergarten. When Mark was 14 he showed signs of a mutation, he suddenly burst out in scales one day in class, and his parents sent him to a 'rehabilitation center'. His mother acted like he was dead and no one had heard from him since. It had been almost 3 years. Twyla had been in Mark's class when it happened, the memory had stayed with her. She was terrified of going through the same thing Mark and his family went through, which is why she left home in the first place.

When you got down to it, Twyla desperately wanted the help this woman offered, even if she was a stranger. She was tired, she was hungry, and she was covered in accumulated dirt from long periods between real showers. So despite any fears and a ‘they’re-all-out-to-get-me’ attitude Twyla replied finally with “I would like that very much.” It was simple, it was quietly spoken, and it was all Twyla could muster with a choked up throat. Do NOT cry. Twyla’s clenched fists began taking on brick tones, but she didn’t cry she just looked down. If it turns out to be a lie you can always run. There is a way out of everything.

You could tell a lot about a person by reading their expression and Meld's reading of the play of emotions across Wallflower's face was no exception. It was obvious that the girl was not only frightened but also in desperate need of whatever help that Meld might be able to offer. If she were another sort of person, a softer and more emotional person, it might have broken her heart a little. As it was, however, Meld was nothing if not practical. There wasn't much she could do about the other woman's fear for the moment, but that might come in time. What she could do was help her, however, and offer her hand in friendship and support.

"I know of a place you can stay where you'll be safe. Its a place for mutants, a sort of shelter and haven. They let you stay there for free and supply your basic needs, like food. When I first came to the city it was like a godsend. I was alone and afraid as well but the people at this place, they accepted me and helped me when I needed it." Saying that she was afraid might have been a bit of an exaggeration but it seemed appropriate to say nevertheless.

Meld herself was still relatively new to the city, only having been here a few months and it was true enough what she said about Sanctuary being a godsend. Her first night had almost gone very badly as she got in a fight with a rather discriminatory human when she had asked for a recommendation for a cheap place to stay. If not for running into Aura she wasn't exactly sure where she would be right now, although she was sure it wouldn't be a good place. Most likely she would have gotten into a lot more trouble with the law than she actually had. Not that she had a lot of respect for human laws, but it was better for everyone that she stay out of the spotlight, so to speak.

It looked to Meld like the girl was about to cry. She wished, briefly, that she could put her hand on the girl's shoulder in a comforting gesture, but that had never been something she was comfortable with. "Things will get better. I promise. It might take time but they do get better." It was the only comfort she could offer.

Twyla almost dropped her duffel bag as she listened to what Meld was saying. The place she described sounded perfect to a road weary kid, like Twyla. Twyla was just a kid, she was 17 and from a small town out in the middle of nowhere. She wasn’t equipped with the smarts or the emotional stamina that was required of her current lifestyle. She was tired and the kid in her wanted someone to tell her what to do. She wanted to not have to think every second of every day about who was going to hurt her, where she was going to get her next meal, if she was going to have enough money to get on the bus, where she was going to sleep that night–the list went on.

It sounds too good to be true. The practical part of her brain commented sarcastically. But what if she’s serious? Twyla bit her lip and her left hand worried the straps of the duffel she was clasping. Well, say something. Don’t sit here awkwardly staring at your shoes. She took too long and the woman kept talking. “Things will get better. I promise. It might take time but they do get better.”

“They had better get better.” Twyla said without thinking. Her voice sounded almost angry, even to her own ears. She waited a few moments for the sudden emotion to creep back down her throat before she went on. “So do you...do you think this place that you’re talking about will...will they let me in? Do you think they’ll let me stay there for a while? I mean just for a while. Until I get more money and all that.” Way to totally reveal too much at once. Why don’t you just say ‘Hi, I’m helpless. Please feel free to kick me in the gut.’? Oh wait, that part’s obvious. At least I don't feel like crying anymore. That's always a plus.

Meld could almost read the thought in Wallflower's mind; that the place she offered was true good to be true and the thought didn't surprise Meld at all. She had had much the same thought when she was first introduced to the idea of Sanctuary but it had, in fact, turned out to be exactly what was offered: a sanctuary for mutants. The fact that it was also a cover for an organization working for mutant rights was entirely besides the point and not something this girl needed to see. Aside from the fact that she had been sworn to secrecy about it, she just didn't seem ready to accept the battle for mutant superiority. One day, perhaps, but not today. Today she just wanted a place to be safe and warm.

"Of course they'll accept you," Meld answered, trying to be reassuring. She almost cringed at the tone in the girl's voice, how desperate she sounded, but managed to keep her expression neutral. It was sad to see a fellow mutant reduced to this and it was no fault of the girl's at all. Humans had brought this state about, with their discrimination and their anti-mutant propaganda and one day humans would pay for the many wrongs they had committed.

"Sanctuary is a place for all mutants to go to find safety and acceptance. The rooms aren't particularly lavish but they keep you warm and dry and give you a place to find privacy. And you'd be hard pressed to find better food." She grinned, trying to lighten the mood a little. "If you like I can take you there now."

Twyla listened intently to everything Meld was saying and that small hope that had sprung to life a few moments before was thriving, regardless of the restraints she had been trying to put on it. Twyla was too tired to focus on being pessimistic and afraid. So, of course, there they were again, waiting in the wings, the tears that Twyla had spent months stifling and fighting with for control of her tear ducts. No. You’ve got nothing to cry about. This a good thing. This is what you need. You can’t cry about good things. You can only cry about the really bad things and none of those have happened yet. You’re not dead, are you? You can cry when you’re dying or dead. Not now. Like she had countless times before on trains and buses and in dirty apartments and on park benches Twyla talked herself out of crying by using a mixture of her own logic and digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

“It sounds like heaven compared to a lot of the places I’ve crashed.” Twyla bit her lip again as she thought back on some of the less than appealing places she’d stayed in the past few months. “I’m not sure I believe you–about the food I mean. I’ve found some pretty good stuff in some of the alleys in Little Italy.” Her face went from tense and pinched to a small smile in less than the time it took for her body to go camouflaged. In her first trip to New York City Twyla had tested some of the techniques she’d seen other street kids do to get free food. By now she had perfected some of them, including raiding restaurant Dumpsters after closing time. In her months since running away from home Twyla had done some things she wouldn’t have ever thought about in her old life. Most of them had been for food.

"If you like I can take you there now." It took her a few moments to realize that she hadn’t replied to everything Meld had said to her. Well...Do you trust her? If she wanted to hurt you she had plenty of time while you were talking. She looks like she could hurt you if she wanted to. So do you take the leap of faith? Twyla worried the straps on her duffel more as she tried to make a decision quickly. Sometimes you’ve gotta jump. “It would be very nice of you–to take me there I mean. If it’s not too much trouble.” Twyla said this in the strongest voice she’s used in this unexpected conversation. She almost sounded sure of herself for the first time in a long time. Besides, worst case scenario, I run away. There’s a way out of EVERYTHING.

Meld was glad to hear a little more strength in the girl's voice. It made her feel good to be able to do her small part to help. Normally her brand of help involved violence against humans or at least the threat of violence. Those were where her skills lay so it only made sense that she would play to her strengths. And there was no doubt that she felt a certain satisfaction in being able to eliminate the worse kinds of human scum but this was different, almost more pure in a way.

It did Meld's soul good to know that violence and death weren't the only things that she could engage in, that she could help in other ways as well. Lately Meld had been questioning her actions. Since coming to the city she had become a much more violent person, wreaking havoc and death more often than not. Not that she didn't have good reason to do so and not that it wasn't for a noble purpose, but there was something to be said about how easily she had come to embrace such acts and she couldn't help but wonder what it said about her as a person. But here she was, offering the simple comfort of food and shelter to a fellow mutant, proving that she hadn't lost that spark of humanity after all.

"Of course its not too much trouble," Meld replied. "I was just heading back there, myself." She beckoned Wallflower to follow as she continued speaking. "Its not too far from here. I can't speak of the places in Little Italy, but I can assure you that you won't have anything to complain about when it comes to Sanctuary's food. I think you'll like it there."

Twyla unlocked her knees and started to follow Meld. “Well I’m glad I’m not getting in the way of your plans then. I’m sure it’s a very nice place.”She replied quickly as she turned her face up to look the woman she had just met in the face. In that moment she realized that she WAS a stranger and that she was helping her without knowing anything about Twyla but the fact that she was also a mutant. This was the first time that help had come Twyla’s way in a form other than ‘you do this for me, I do this for you’.

After her realization Twyla felt suddenly shy and humbled. She looked up again and offered her thanks. “Thank you very much for helping me– to get to this Sanctuary I mean. I’m sure it’s kinda weird for you to pick up a random kid off the street but I’m very thankful that you did.” As she said this, Twyla’s voice got softer and softer and her face got redder and redder.

It sounds A LOT dumber when you say it out loud. She thought angrily to herself, feeling juvenile and overly emotional. I meant what I said though. This place, Sanctuary, sounds...Well it sounds perfect. I’m really lucky she noticed me. I’m not sure how much longer I could city hop like this...Twyla’s thoughts trailed off as she stuck a hand in the front pocket that carried all the money she had. The five dollar bill she had earned that same day was still there. On her first train away from home Twyla had decided that as long as she had some money for a bus she could survive. She still had bus money and now she had something else that she also earned that day–a nervous and easily vanquished, but very real hope that she would survive.

Dead walked down the street not quite paying attention his cell phone conversation keeping him busy. "... Now you listen to me, i dealt with Steve you saw that, now you want me to deal with this guy? ha, right, NO you listen i dont do this you want him its going to cost you three times my normal fee, and if you insist on waiting to pay me then my fee goes up by 6% you got me... good... then i will see you after I'm done."

Dead through the phone into an ally not caring if it turned off or not as he turned back to face the side walk he realized he was going to run into two girls one some country girl the other, some matrix chick, by this point he couldn't stop himself only decision was to the street or to the country girl, to late as he walked straight into her he felt sharp metal meet skin his chest meet her face, and suddenly he finds himself sailing to the street.

He slams into the side of a car and rolls onto the hood. the car stops he slides off the hood and lands in the street, he rolls four feet and jumps up.
"ga... you... moth..." as pain shot through Deads body he could tell he'd broken the windshield dented the hood, smashed off the side mirror, broken the left head light.
The driver begins to get out of his car. "Hey you smashed my CAR!" the driver grabs Dead by the jacket and throws him into a store front window, it brakes as Deads body falls limp in full pain, he rolls out of the store display into the sidewalk, there's not a scratch on him. "What are you? your one of those mutant freaks! Freak"