New York City was always interesting looking but at night Van Sanders-Adamson thought it was beautiful. He'd never share his views with anyone, but he truly believed that shadows and darkness made the lights of the buildings, signs, and posts all the more bright and cheery.

Speaking of light posts...

Being a mutant was generally fun, in Van's opinion. He usually loved his powers and all of the random things that they let him do--like jumping from light post to light post at roughly 11:30 at night. It was fun, acrobatic, and it thoroughly freaked out any people standing beneath the merry lights. Their fear vindicated the angry boy and helped soothe the reopened wounds scratched apart by yet another argument with his father about his mother. "She made her choices and she knew the consequences--sometimes it isn't just about choices Van, you have to--don't you walk away from me!" His father had been red in the face, spit flying from the sides of his mouth as he sputtered at the boy.

His face has been redder lately... Van thought as he made the leap from one post to another. Freakishly long legs made the boy look like some spindly version of a frog as he landed precariously on the bars. Thankfully, the mutant had yet to land on a light bulb or anything that broke off when his chuck covered feet made their dull thuds on impact. He's looking thinner too Another hop, the wind of the movement making his black opened sweatshirt billow out behind him like a cape.

I think he's getting-- A wrong step. Falling. Pain. The boy's hands were stinging as if he'd scrapped some skin off when he tried to save himself cracking his head open. "Sh*t." Van muttered, disoriented, as he started to sit up...

Only to be kicked back down by a heavy work boot. "Whatcha' doing, mutie?" The man's voice was high and nasally. How does he know I'm a--right. His legs had barely started going back to a normal length, not being human was obvious.

"Yeah, whatcha's doing?" Several more voices echoed as the scruff of boots shifting about came to Van's ears.

Sh*t. He braced himself internally for the pain to come.

For some time now Juka had been making nightly forays into the streets of New York City in order to try and stop whatever crime he happened to come across. Thus far he had been having somewhat mediocre success. The other night he had managed to stop an attempted mugging of some man trying to steal some old lady's purse and a few nights before that he had scared away some vandals attempting to spraying the side of a building. Beyond that, however, and his almost rescuing of the dear lady Deirdre who had turned out to be a mutant and very much not in need of rescue, he hadn't had much success. Still, he knew it was something worth while and he felt like he was finally starting to learn how and where to find those evil doers that needed stopping.

This night was not so dissimilar to the nights that had come before. Just after sunset Juka had floated to his apartment from the Mansion in order to feed his kitties and give them the attention that they so clearly deserved. From there he picked up his four prized anvils and floated above the city, just high enough that he would be difficult to spot from below, in search of villainous characters that needed to be taught a lesson. He wished there was someone that might be able to teach him the ropes of crime fighting, so to speak, but the only one he knew that did this sort of thing regularly was Abyss and he most certainly did not want Abyss to be his teacher. Aside from the fact that Abyss was a killer, he scared Juka and he was not afraid to admit that fact. If only Abyss could learn to be more like his loving Prince Venus of a brother.

"Whatcha' doing, mutie?"

Suddenly Juka turned at the sound of the voice, directing his bubble at top speed towards it, anvils whirling around. Maybe he had an irrational view of his own talents or maybe it was the adrenaline that had just starting going through his system with the knowledge that his abilities were now needed, but he felt little fear at the prospect of confronting at least two possibly violent humans. It wasn't that he didn't think they were dangerous, more that the thought of the sort of danger they could pose didn't even bother to enter his mind. These thugs were threatening a fellow mutant and it was up to him, Juka Miami, to save the poor mutant.

"Why don't you pick on someone not quite so defenseless," Juka yelled at them once he had gotten close enough to actually be a threat. His anvils continued circling defensively. The first thing Juka did was count the number of threats; at least 5. The second thing he did was notice that he recognized the mutant that was being threatened by the thugs. "Van?" Probably not the best question to ask in order to keep up his illusion of being dangerous, but he couldn't help the question escaping his mouth. Van was just about the last person he expected to see in the middle of the night surrounded by thugs that wanted to do him all sorts of nasty bodily harm.

Pain. You were supposed to get used to it after a while. Van thought he had a high pain tolerance but that didn't mean he didn't fear the boots that he knew were going to rain on him in a moment. He'd experienced something similar to this at a concert gone riot...that time there had been a certain British mutant ready to jump in, pull him out, and throw Van like so much spaghetti to relative safety. So the young mutant waited, his fear making it hard to focus on a plan of action beyond curling up as much as he could. He waited for a long moment and then he heard the voice.

The Yelling voice. The Familiar Yelling voice that caused the boots to hold off. Defenseless? Part of Van's man-ego was hurt by this and it wanted to retaliate. The rest of him...totally agreed and realized that maybe a snarky comment wasn't the best thing for the situation. Now, why was that voice so familiar?

"Van?"

"Juka?" Gray eyes peered from around the arms that were covering his face. The appearance of Juka explained why, for the moment, Thugs 1-4 had stopped their jeers--the sight of the gowned man was a little jarring at first, especially if you didn't appreciate the spectacle for the unique event that it was. There was no doubt in his mind that the man on the...what that a bubble!? The man on the...bubble was Juka--but the question seemed appropriate since he was so surprised to see the man he'd met in the church.

It was kinda ironic that he was here after their talk about vigilantism and doing what was right. Apparently Juka had found his contribution of justice and society. Van on the other hand...well, he was a crumpled mess on the ground--nothing ironic about that.

Soon Thug 1 found his voice: "Look freak, this doesn't concern you." There was a click of metal on metal and Van could tell that a weapon of some kind had been pulled out. Thugs 2-4 seemed to agree with their leader and there was some murmuring of 'mutie' and 'freak' in their little group.

((OOC: I figured I'd let you know that you can control the thugs if you need to as well--I'm terrible with evil banter ))

(OOC: I'm going with the idea that your limbs went back to normal around the time Juka appeared so he hasn't realized what you can do yet. If you need me to make a change let me know.)

Van had seemed so nice and understanding when Juka had first met him at the church and he really didn't want to see anything bad happen to the man. There was also the question of why these thugs were even interested in him to begin with. He could see why they might have an issue with himself, floating bubble boy and all that, but Van looked completely normal. Unless he had been using whatever power it was he possessed and these thugs had noticed it?

"Look freak, this doesn't concern you."

Unfortunately Juka didn't exactly have much time to ponder the question of what Van's powers might be as one of the thugs began speaking in a rather threatening manner; his threats decidedly directed at himself. Well, that simply wasn't very nice now was it? "But, my lovely cupcake, I believe this does concern me. You see, that man you seem so intent on beating up is my good friend and I simply can't stand by and watch him be abused, now can I?" He smiled in a most friendly and inviting fashion, if he was to be any judge, just waiting for the explosion. If there was one thing people like this disliked more than mutants, it was other men hitting on them. Especially when those other men were being threatened with physical violence. And was it really so bad to have a little fun with the situation?

Apparently it was a bad idea to have a little fun with the situation as the circumstance went from uncomfortable with thugs and their fists, to downright dangerous as Juka heard the rather distinctive sound of a gun being cocked. Suddenly he wasn't feeling nearly so confident as he was a moment before. Floating bubbles were just not very successful barriers to bullets.

"Didn't you hear me mutie? This doesn't concern you!" Threat oozed from his voice and his gun was pointed directly at Juka. In a moment that might either be considered bravery or sheer absence of logical thought, Juka dived down at the man holding the gun, intent on knocking him to the ground and hopefully out cold with one of his anvils. He could only hope that his bubble moved faster than the man's reflexes. He was also hoping against hope that Van would take the hint from his action and actually do something to help. Please let him have some sort of power that was useful in a fight, oh gods please.

Van lay on the cold concrete of the sidewalk and listened to Juka taunt/hit on/anger/freak out(?) one of the thugs. It would have been a lot funnier if the mutant on the ground wasn't...well, it would have been funny in a less dangerous and much more pleasant situation. All the wonderful merits of the pet name 'cupcake' were lost on Van. It was a shame really, normally something like that could send him into a veritable tizzy. The only thing said by the gowned man that lifted Van's crumpled spirits was the bit about not letting his friend get abused--that bit was vaguely comforting, even if the thugs--

Had a gun? That was the clicking noise, it had just taken Van a moment to place it. In that moment there was a threat and then a crash. Thug 1 had gone down in an 'Ooof!' after being dived at by a certain vigilante. Van took the momentary confusion to hop to the feet that were now a normal distance (thankfully) from his hips.

There was a glint under the street light that he and Thug 2 noticed at the same time, it was the gun. Thug 2, with a howl of rage, dove for the weapon. Just as he was about to scoop it from the ground a long arm snaked out, its fingers reaching ever so slightly longer than a normal human hand could. Taking two quick steps back so he could see all parties, the young mutant held the small pistol pointed at the men that were grouped around the streetlight.

He'd never held a gun before in his life and his arms were shaking.

Van's left arm was still long and it jutted awkwardly at the elbow, disproportionate and strange on the thin boy. Rapidly the barrel of the gun hopped from one man to the other. "Juka, are you alright?" Despite the fact that his body was violently shaking Van's voice was miraculously clear--it would actually seem calm to someone that barely knew the young man. Really he was just so freaked out that the right emotion didn't come out of his voice.

Things began occurring almost too fast for Juka to properly follow and for just a moment he rethought his intent to become a proper super hero. Sure, he was uniquely equiped to deal with vandals, purse snatchers and all manner of other minor criminals, but it just wasn't fair when guns were brought into the picture. What could a boy in a bubble do against a weapon that could fire bullets from long distances at high velocities? Hope that his reflexes were fast enough that he could get an anvil over to intercept said bullet before the bullet intercepted his fleshy vulnerable body? Somehow that didn't seem like the best plan he had ever come up with.

Thankfully, however, this time around Juka's reflexes actually were fast enough to avoid being shot at although that probably had more to do with the fact that he had taken the thug by complete surprise rather than the fact that his reflexes were actually all that good. Still, no cause to complain when it came to the very posative fact of not being shot. Thug number one went down with an audible thud as anvil collided with flesh and gun went flying. Most likely anvil colliding with flesh would result in a broken bone or two but, really, that was exactly what the man deserved. Hopefully he would remember this and, in the future, not attack defenseless mutants.

Before Juka could even think to dive at the gun or at another one of the thugs, for that matter, a very long arm snaked out and grabbed it from the ground. Wait...a long arm...belonging to Van? Juka blinked and suddenly the pieces began to fall into place. Apparently Van was some kind of super stretchy mutant (or something) and the thugs must have seen him be all stretchy-like. A little weird to be sure, but not an overt threat surely? Then again, people like that didn't really need an excuse to cause trouble.

"Juka, are you alright?"

Just that quickly Van was in control of the gun and Juka took stalk of himself and his own physical well being. "I think so," he answered. "No bullets through me at least." The remaining thugs seemed not nearly so sure of themselves now that they were one man down and no longer in control of the weapon. They stood around muttering for a moment before turning heel and fleeing, leaving their unconcisous comrade in arms on the ground in a fallen heap.

"That's what matters, right?" Juka seemed apparently unhurt. The rest of the merry little group fled after a moment. Van watched them go and a mirthless chuckle escaped his lips. His arm had now come back to normal and the shaking had stopped. The gun was dropped to the ground and the boy rubbed his chin, suddenly feeling very old and very tired. Gray eyes blinked several times as they looked at the man on the ground, Juka had landed on him and so had an anvil...wait.

"You carry anvils around with you?" The question held no real emotion, as Van was still in shock from the attack. The anvils had been missed during the young mutant's stint on the ground and now he couldn't wrap his head around the idea. "But aren't they heavy?" The bubble thing was forgotten at the moment, minor detail and all.

Without waiting for a reply Van was kneeling on the ground next to good ol' Thug 1 who hadn't stirred even after his buddies skedaddled. A normal hand was extended and used to attempt a pulse check the other was used to feel the space above the unconscious man for signs of breathing. He seemed to be alive, that was good.

"We should probably call an ambulance or something...right" From his spot on the ground Van looked up at the gowned man. His voice finally had some emotion to it at this point, he was starting to wake up. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the glint of metal on the ground that was the gun that had been aimed at so many people in such a short span of time. From his peripheral vision it looked so simple and unassuming, it was a perfect lie.

How do I get myself in these situations?

Juka floated over to the man he had injured with his anvil attack to ensure that he was still breathing. Clearly the man was out cold but his breath was even and steady which was a good sign. A broken bone or two was nothing less than what he deserved to receive given what he had tried to do to poor Van and who knew how many other unfortunate mutants in the past, but he had no desire to injure the man permanently or, gods forbid, actually kill the man. Juke knew very well how dangerous his anvils could be if he wasn't careful with them. The trick was to strike his enemies with just enough force to make them regret their evil ways but still have a chance to reform them.

"You carry anvils around with you? But aren't they heavy?"

Thug number one confirmed to still be alive and in more or less good health, considering, Juka grinned back at Van. All was once again well in the world and that meant his sense of humour and good nature had returned in full force. "Oh, I couldn't actually lift an anvil on my own," he answered in amusement. "Apparently my soap bubbles are stronger than they look though. So, I take it your power is being super stretchy?" It was a little weird perhaps but also rather cool.

"We should probably call an ambulance or something...right"

Juka nodded his agreement, got out his cell phone and dialed 911. The conversation he had with the woman was relatively short. He gave the address of where the incident had taken place but none of the details regarding how, exactly, the man had gotten injured. A thought occurred to him, suddenly, that perhaps he should start wearing a mask and a costume so as to be less recognizable. After all, how many Japanese guys in dresses could there be around New York City?

"We should probably leave before the ambulance gets here," Juka stated. "They might not believe us when we say we were only defending ourselves. You want a lift?"

Van wondered if he could lift an anvil himself...an image of his arms stretching to the ground under the wight filled his mind. It almost made him smile on the outside.That was decidedly not even a question as he was never going to try it. Juka said he couldn't lift one by himself either, he sounded rather cheery as he said it and the smile that had been fighting to come out finally surfaced. Everything was going to be okay. Small run-in. No worries........riiiight.

Bubbles were a decidedly awesome power--Juka could make a killing at children's parties if being a vigilante hero didn't work out. Van was about to say such when he was asked-ish about his own powers. "More or less, I guess." The boy poked his arm, which had been normal for a few minutes. Standing up, he brushed the knees of his tight jeans off. "I'm not totally sure how super is super stretchy yet--but I'm nervous about trying it out." There were parts of him that the boy hadn't even attempted to stretch (like his neck and his chest). He was worried that he'd mess something up and only his arm/fingers/legs had ever stretched out on their own. Best not to tempt fate, the young mutant figured.

Juka talked to the people behind the face of NYC's 911 hot-line-thinger. It was a short conversation and the young mutant noted with smug satisfaction that he failed to totally explain the situation. It was probably best...things had been quick to get out of hand and even quicker to right themselves. Part of the boy was glad the authorities wouldn't really be involved but a small part of him called softly that there was something wrong with just ditching--that the Justice system would side with them. But there was a chance it wouldn't...

Oh well, they were only human...to an extent.

"You have a--" The next word would have been 'car' and then Van realized what the other man meant. He blinked a few times, mulling it over and then there was a grin that made his septum piercing jiggle as his nose crinkled. "That would be pretty sweet." Bubbles were just so awesome and all, how could he resist?

Juka was almost getting the impression that Van wasn't completely happy with the powers he had. Why should he be unhappy though? Stretchyness was pretty awesome, in Juka's not entirely professional opinion. Tendrils that ended in bubbles were one thing, but there were certain things that tendrils simply couldn't do. Really, anything that involved a great deal of manual dexterity or, you know, a thumb, to start off with. Besides, what was the use in being unhappy with something that you really couldn't change? Make the best of it was pretty much the philosophy of the day. Sure, Juka would love to be able to change into a griffin like the griffin boy or become all misty like his Ghosty, or maybe even turn his skin red like his Prince Venus, but he couldn't do any of those things and didn't really expect to be able to any time soon, so he'd just have to make due with what he could do. Maybe it was easier for him though, since what he could do was so plainly and completely awesomely amazing. Nevertheless, stretchy was nothing to look down upon.

"I'm not totally sure how super is super stretchy yet--but I'm nervous about trying it out."

"Sometimes you just need to take a chance and go with it," Juka nodded sagely at his own advice. It was, perhaps, advice that he should really consider taking for himself, given the fact that his bubbles had so recently become time bubbles. Another flashback of wiggly haired Andrea entered his mind briefly and he began, for a moment, to regret his offer of a ride away from the scene of the crime that was entirely not their fault. But no, surely wiggly hair was a one time occurrence, right? He'd just have to be extra careful and make sure his bubble only floated like it was supposed to and didn't do anything weird like it was not supposed to do.

"You have a--That would be pretty sweet."

Juka grinned, always pleased to impress and amaze. "Just give me one quick moment." He rose up into the air, looking for a nearby roof in which to deposit his anvils. One advantage of using anvils as weapons is that, wherever he deposited them, they were heavy enough that not to many were likely to try and steal them. Still, he preferred to drop them somewhere people weren't too likely to look in the first place, such as roofs. Perfect roof/anvil storing facility found, he let his anvils gently down and then returned below to Van.

"Now, where were we." Juka unbubbled for a moment and gently took Van's hand, stepping close so as to ensure that both were within the acceptable radius of the bubble. "Don't let go of my hand. If you let go you'll fall through the bottom of the bubble and I don't think either of us want that." With one final impish grin, he once again bubbled, this time the bubble encompassing both himself and Van. "Hold on tight." He began rising into the air, not doing anything to drastic until he found it if Van was one of those who wanted the ride of his life or one who would prefer a nice and easy ride with no tricks or risks (not that anything he did was all that risky anyway, its just that some had weak stomachs).

A nod. Juka's advice was sound. "I suppose...I'm just worried about messing something up." His hand went to examine the high parts of his chest, wondering what they'd look like and feel like if he tried to stretch them. His arms turned into a rubber-like substance and changed his clothing into the same substance--would it happen the same up top? What if he got a piece of shirt stuck in his heart or something? What if he got shot--would the bullet go through or bounce back? Could it get stuck? Did he bleed when he was stretched out?

Did he bleed when his powers were in motion?

The thought had never occurred to Van before as he had never needed to find out. It would probably be something good to test at some point. Eventually....yes, eventually he'd cut an arm and stretch and see if the wound iwas affected by his powers. That didn't sound like a fun experiment at all...Stupid emo kid, cutting yourself.

Funny thing, that advice could be put to use in other situations--other situations involving certain females with certain prehensile hair abilities....Gah! Why did everything come back to Etta? They were...awkward--the last time he'd seen her had proven that. Moving on, new topic, train needs to get out of the station. Shoo shoo.

His acceptance of the offer of a ride made the other man grin and float off (Van hoped float was the right words for the context) and drop his anvils on a nearby roof. It was a cool exercise and it made the young mutant on the ground decide that bubble creation/manipulation/projection(?) was the perfect mutation for Juka, it just seemed to fit him. Van found himself smiling again when Juka was coming back towards him. This is gonna be awesome.

His hand was taken, more advice was given, and Van got slightly nervous. It wasn't so much the prospect as jumping into the unknown that made his body hum with sudden nerves. "I don't know, we could test out my bouncing capabilities if I let go..." He trailed off and gulped at the image of himself splattered on a rooftop somewhere. Better not go there...

Juka's hand was squeezed when the bubbled formed around them and Van laughed when they were lifted off the ground. "I feel like Glinda or whatever her name was from 'The Wizard of Oz'." A pause and a slow breath of air escaped the boy's lips. The nerves were disappearing and being replaced by excitement. "Although I guess you're more suited for the role..." A look was given to Juka's attire but Van's tone wasn't negative, just an honest observation--if anything he sounded a bit put down by this realization.

"I suppose...I'm just worried about messing something up."

Now that was something that Juka had never before considered. Messing something up? He supposed having a stretchy body might mean potential for messing something up, especially if some parts of his body happened to not be as stretchy as other parts. Imaging what could happen, for example, if his body returned to its usual non-stretchy self somehow...wrong was not a pretty image. He had never considered such potential problems when he first learned about his own power, though that may have had more to do with how young he was when he first discovered it (young and quite without fear) rather than the fact that bubbles were utterly without risk. What would have happened had he lost concentration in those early days? Now, of course, it was pretty much second nature to manifest a bubble and direct its movement, but way back then? He suppressed a shudder at the mental image of Juka bits all over the ground.

"I don't know, we could test out my bouncing capabilities if I let go..."

Juka blinked at Van, shaking the rather disturbing images out of his head. It took him a moment to realize that the other man was not being serious. At least, he chose to decide that Van wasn't being serious otherwise he may just have more problems than Juka would be able to help him with. "Do me a favour," he said, just in case he had misread the other's intentions, "and don't test that out today. If you must discover whether or not you're bouncy, maybe do so in a way that's a little safer just in case?" Surely he must see the logic of that, right? Juka didn't want to be responsible for the unfortunate and far too early demise of a fellow mutant due to falling from a bubble.

Juka took Van's laughter as a sign that he was the type to enjoy an exciting roller coaster and thus it was an invitation to show off a little bit. Distant sirens could be heard below, but they were of little consequence. How could a mere cop in a car catch a boy (well two boys this time) in a bubble? The bubble shot up, picking up speed as it rose higher and higher into the air. The city fell away far below them, people and buildings alike starting to get that toylike appearance that came with being so far away. Once he was far enough above the city so that even pedestrians who happened to look up wouldn't be able to identify them, Juka did a couple of barrel roles in the bubble, looking at Van to find out if he was enjoying himself or was terrified for his life and intending to alter his technique accordingly.

"I feel like Glinda or whatever her name was from 'The Wizard of Oz'. Although I guess you're more suited for the role..."

Juka grinned and giggled happily in reply. "Well, if you really want some fashion assistance, you know I'd love to help you. Whatever you desire, I'm here to be of assistance."

Juka, it seemed, hadn't caught that Van was joking right away. He looked a little freaked out for a moment before he caught it and composed himself. The boy figured he'd imagined splattered Van as well, it wasn't a good image. "No worries, man. I don't plan on testing that out any time soon...In case I mess something up." Van laughed a little bit, to lighten the mood and to (hopefully) show that he was by no means suicidal or anything like that. He really wasn't--dying anytime soon didn't sound like fun, there were much more interesting things to occupy his time. "It really is something to think about though, I've never really wondered before how rubber I am..."

Van's other hand wrapped itself around Juka's arm as they suddenly were lifted higher. Without thinking about it, the boy looked down and watched as the rooftops got farther and farther and smaller and smaller. For a second his stomach lurched and then settled itself. Awesome it was, hands down. The young mutant had never been flying before, in a plane or bubble, and he was thoroughly enjoying himself until--

Rolling, they were rolling. It was scary and unexpected and totally sweet. Scratch the kid's parties idea, Juka should charge for rides--he could make a killing on the thrill-seeking market. The young mutant cried out in appreciation as they went into another barrel roll. No matter now much fun he was having--Van's hold on Juka didn't loosen at all, there was no way he was going to risk falling and truly having to discover if he could bounce or not...not that he would probably be able to use his powers fast enough (they could kick in in their own, he supposed). "You are sooooo lucky." An appreciative whistle. If only Van's powers could make his hear race like that (not counting the times where he'd fallen from stretchy-running or things like that).

"I don't think I could pull off that look anyway...I'd much rather pretend to be a munchkin or something." Van wasn't really a believable munchkin either with his height and a not-so-squeaky voice but he'd prefer a less glitter-ific costume, if possible. "Hero and fashion assistant all in one, you're like a do-it-all." The boy laughed and then a sudden thought occurred to him(as they often did). "Where do you get your clothes?" Again, it was a curious tone. "If you don't mind my asking..." He trailed off and looked down again at the tiny lights of the city.

Van was clearly having the time of his life and as long as Juka was making someone happy, he was happy. He did one more barrel role for good measure (had to give Van his money's worth, so to speak) before slowing down to a more leisurely pace, drifting along peacefully far above the city. Even though he had all ready realized it, he was definitely glad to confirm the fact that the other man was not about to let go and "test" how bouncy he really was. "So, where to?" he asked.

"You are sooooo lucky."

Juka grinned back, always glad to be the center of attention. "I like to think so. But you know, every power comes with its drawbacks." He was most certainly not going to mention the whole wiggly hair incident. With his luck Van would get so freaked out he'd accidentally let go of Juka's arm and plummet to his doom, having forgotten just how high up they really were and the fact that he couldn't fly on his own (or at least Juka assumed he couldn't fly on his own).

"I'm sure being stretchy must be pretty cool also. You could be the amazing Rubber Band Man!" It was amazing the wide variety of different powers out there, no two exactly the same. Juka figured they were kind of like finger prints; each individual and unique. Even the other telekinetic he'd met, Shana, had powers much different than his own. He had bubbles which were certainly lovely and amazing in their own right, but she wasn't constrained by bubbles, the dear hearted blue haired woman could simply think and things would move around. Similar and yet different all at the same time.

"Where do you get your clothes? If you don't mind my asking..."

It wasn't the question Juka was expecting, but it was a good question nevertheless and he approved, if only in his own head. The man clearly had an eye for fashion. "You'd be surprised what you can find in second hand stores. I just sort of find a little here and a little there and what I can't find I make myself. Especially lately I find I have more spare time than I used to." Owing, of course, to the fact that he no longer needed to sleep. Who knew the kind of boredom that could result in having 8 more hours a day to play with? For that matter, who know how important sleep schedules were to keeping a proper handle on time passing?

Where to? Van couldn't say--he wasn't totally sure where he wanted to be at this point. Before all he'd been concerned with was getting away and going somewhere so that he couldn't hear his father in his head anymore. That felt like a totally different night--it was so long ago. So much and so little had happened in such a small expanse of time. It was a crazy night, truly. "I don't care where you drop me off--so long as it isn't in Brooklyn." No elaboration was done and it was probably needed--Juka didn't know where he lived with his father or that they had argued. Come to think of it, neither of the young men knew much about the other. For all Juka knew Van lived alone in his loft apartment in the Village or something. Weeeeeeeeird how he felt a sense of camaraderie with someone he barely knew. Trauma brings people closer...so do honest conversations in churches, it seemed...

Every power did have drawbacks...Van peered curiously at Juka, wondering what his were but not wanting to ask straight out since he hadn't seemed like he was going to elaborate. The boy shrugged, it was kinda cool. Okay, pretty cool. "I get to be creative with it, and if I ever go hero there's a million names to pick from. " He smiled. Van was never going to become some kind of super hero, but that didn't matter currently. Come to think of it, he didn't know what he wanted to be and he certainly couldn't work in a coffee house bookshop the rest of his life...that wasn't where he wanted to be in five years. But it's hard to go where you want when you don't know where that is.

Juka didn't seemed to mind the question about the clothes--that was good. Sometimes people got all protective, as if you were trying to steal their scene or something. Van nodded his head wisely when secondhand shops were mentioned--they were where they boy got most of his clothes when he could. There was just something so wonderful about mounds of shirts and pants all for ridiculously cheap. Van would never tell any of his 'friends' this, but he secretly loved rummaging through the stacks to find a new interesting shirt or ridiculous pair of pants. It was a guilty pleasure. Apparently Juka could sew and all that too--the comment about time was odd. "Why have you got so much more time?" It was out before he could think anymore on the subject.

Speaking of time, it was late and getting later. Van should have been at almost crashing and going home tired by now. For some reason...he wasn't. In fact, the boy's eyes were opened wider as he felt less and less tired. He hadn't noticed it at first, but there was definitely something different inside of him--he was much too awake for the time of night. Hormones maybe? Panic from the almost gunfight? It seemed more than that...things were off. The energy was nice though. "Where ever we go we should do something." The boy was suddenly antsy and ready to do something, anything.