It wasn’t all too unusual for the seventeen-year-old to be walking around at night, although she usually didn’t do it this late. She had been having trouble sleeping the past few days, ever since Elizabeth’s…kidnapping. The abduction had involved guns and stolen cars and flying angel boys, and had overall been a very, very distressing experience. Even though they—Haylee, Carrick, and Kai—had gotten her roommate back, it still freaked Haylee out that something like that could happen right in front of her, to someone she was with. One would think that that kind of event would spur Haylee to stay inside at night, but it didn’t. She couldn’t stand being indoors when she had big things to think about. She needed fresh air to empty her mind and help her refocus. The girl was a great deal tenser now, of course, jumping at every sound and scanning her surroundings every so often.

She purposefully stayed close to the mansion, in case she needed to run to safety. The minute she had stepped outside that night, she went through several escape or evasion plans in case something happened. She had worn her running shoes even though she would have preferred her flip flops in the summer warmth, and wore a shirt with a hood to cover her head. Even though the teen hadn’t been the one to get kidnapped, it had still really frightened her (although she would never admit it out loud) and she wanted to take the necessary precautions.

Haylee immersed herself in her thoughts as she walked at a leisurely pace through the streets. The main topic in her brain that night? What she should have done to prevent Liz’s capture. You should have stuck with her instead of leaving her behind to take out that mugger. You should have considered that the mugger had friends. You shouldn’t have been so afraid of the gun. You should’ve—Haylee abruptly stopped in mid-walk, muscles tensed and fear stamped on her face. She could hear noises coming from somewhere in front of her, but she didn’t see the source. It was probably coming from one of the dark alleys down the block. She inched closer to the noises…it sounded like some sort of scuffle was going on. She thought she could hear someone saying, “Help!” and “No! No!” but she wasn’t sure if it wasn't just her mind trying to freak her out.

I…I should help…Or at least check it out and see if someone actually needs help… Normally the teen wouldn’t have hesitated, wouldn’t have even thought about it, and would’ve immediately rushed off to see what was going on. She was normally so sure of her ability to help, and she usually ignored thoughts of self-preservation. She was reckless, but she was brave. Now she was just scared. She crept slowly towards the noises, looking over her shoulder every few steps. Finally, as she arrived at the source of the noises, they abruptly ended. Haylee didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she knew she hadn’t been expecting to see a woman with metal body parts. Dangerous-looking metal body parts.

Late at night was the time that Meld was most comfortable and felt most at home. It hadn't always been that way. Before she knew of her mutation, she had been an avid day dweller. School, martial arts training, a social life, all of those activities prevented her from being nocturnal. As soon as she became a mutant, however, and left her old life entirely behind her, all of that changed. There were many reasons for her being nocturnal, some of them practical and some of them simple preference. In the beginning she had learned that she simply preferred to be awake at night. She was one of those odd people who's sleeping cycles, when left to their own devices, simply chose night time rather than daytime. As soon as she realized that, she constructed her flesh melded eye that allowed her to see better in the dark. More pressingly, however, with her increasingly severe changes in appearance and her increasing record with the police, it was simply easier to travel at night than during the day. Fewer people noticed her and, for the most part, that was a very good thing. Usually when people noticed her, bad things tended to happen and often times those bad things happened to other people rather than herself.

Meld's internal monster, compelling her to kill and cause suffering in others, had reached a critical point only a couple months ago when she and Aura had massacred a church full of humans. Well, not entirely massacred as they had been stopped part way through by the vampire Hunter but that had been the moment when she realized just how close she was coming to going completely over the edge. Since that point she head been relatively good about keeping hold of her violent instincts, having only killed twice and not gotten into any serious incidents other than that. She didn't think she could ever end her violent ways entirely, nor did she really think she wanted to, it was more a matter of getting a hold of them. Only when absolutely necessary, she had vowed, would she actually kill. There were many other ways of dealing with a bad situation that did not involve permanent death.

Usually when Meld was in a pensive mood she walked and tonight was no exception. Her wanderings had taken her closer to the Mansion than she usually ventured, but she wasn't terribly concerned. One on one or even two or three on one, there wasn't much a mere human could do to her unless they happened to bring firearms with them. That night, however, was apparently destined not to be a peaceful walk with no issue and no trouble. Maybe the man who saw her from his shadowed alley hadn't seen her clearly enough to know that she was literally covered in blades or maybe he was drug addled and not in his right mind. Regardless, when he muttered the words "filthy mutant" under his breath Meld happened to overhear him and she didn't take kindly to such sentiments.

Meld stopped in her tracks upon hearing the words and turned around, spotting the man crouched in the alley. He was dirty and thin, obviously homeless and probably not entirely coherent due to any number of possible substances. None of that particularly mattered to Meld. "Would you care to repeat that to me?"

The man stared for a moment before repeating his words louder. "Filthy mutant!" It was all Meld needed to hear. She ran up to him and grabbed the collar of his shirt with her metal hand, her nose assaulted by the rank oder of an unwashed body. Realizing, probably for the first time just how much trouble he was in and just how dangerous Meld was, terror entered his eyes. “Help! No! No!” With a sadistic grin Meld ignored his words. No, she wasn't planning on killing him. But she was planning on demonstrating exactly why you did not insult innocent mutants walking down the street minding their own business.

She opened her mouth in shock at the sight of the woman, but nothing came out. Her eyes travelled along the other female’s person, seeing the blades and other sharp, metal objects attached to her. It was strange…they seemed to blend in with her body, not just connect. They looked fused. It was grotesquely fascinating and Haylee found she could not remove her eyes, entranced by the repelling yet equally enthralling sight. Her body stayed rigid in its place, despite her brain screaming at her to turn tail and run. The woman’s back was turned to the teen, and her hand was grabbing something.

“No, no please,” someone begged behind the metal-merged female. It was then that the brunette noticed the presence of the bedraggled, dirty man; it seemed he had been the source of the cry for help before. Haylee realized why when she saw the woman’s hand tightly gripping the front of his filthy shirt, and saw the pure terror etched on his face. Oh God oh God oh God oh God, the seventeen-year-old started trembling, He—he needs help. But this woman… she has blade hands! She stayed frozen in her position at the mouth of the alley, her mind debating whether she should help or flee. Unfortunately, the grimy, homeless man decided to reveal her presence, his eyes widening as he saw her. “Help me! This is a mutant!” He yelled wildly, the fear on his face growing more and more. Didn’t he see the same fear mirrored on her face?

Run. Run! RUN! was the united chorus that ran through every single nerve in the brunette’s body as realization hit her smack dab in the face. Why had she chosen to take a walk that night again? She should’ve just stayed in the cozy, safe mansion, where there were no homeless men getting attacked by scary mutants with metal appendages! Even as her brain willed her to start moving, her legs did not cooperate. They stayed rooted to the spot, quivering in fear. Maybe the mutant lady would somehow not notice her…?

Meld didn't immediately acknowledge the presence of the other woman. However, she trained her tail eye upon her, blinking it every few seconds to ensure the stranger didn't do anything stupid and unexpected. The majority of her attention, however, remained firmly upon the unfortunate mutant hater. "When you stop to think about this night and the scars you are about to receive," Meld informed the man coldly, "remember that you had them coming. Had you kept your mouth shut like a good little human, I would have walked right past you without a second thought. It is because of your hatred of mutants and for only that reason that you will suffer now." The words were said with a cold businesslike air and she could feel the man trembling.

Lifting her right leg, she wrapped her talons around his soft, tender flesh, causing blood to immediately start seeping through his all ready filthy pant leg. She wondered absently if all the dirt and filth would cause his leg to become infected and simply couldn't bring herself to care. He screamed the moment her titanium blades dug into his flesh. Her expression didn't change an inch as she transferred her grip from her metal hand to her mutant one. It was so much easier to punish a wrong doer with her blades than it was with her flesh and blood hand, even if she was a skilled enough martial artist to do both. There was just something more satisfying about seeing blood flow.

"This is what happens to humans who disrespect mutants," Meld told the stranger, finally deigning to acknowledge her. She didn't know if the woman was a mutant or not, but it didn't really matter. The truth was the truth regardless. "Its only because he has hatred in his heart for mutant kind and encourages that hatred in others that he suffers now. The scars I give him will stay with him for life and remind him until his dying days exactly what he did to earn these scars."

There…there was a tail looking at her. With an eye. The woman had a freaking tail eye. It seemed that she knew Haylee was there, and was using this extra appendage to keep a watch on her in case she tried anything funny. Not that the teen would do anything, she was too terrified. Humans were predictable; they were limited to what they had in their hands. Mutants, however, had special powers that they could bust out at any time. She had no clue what this woman could do (although judging by all of the pointy body parts she had some idea…), and that was what frightened her the most. She had seen people with physical mutations before, but never one quite this…intimidating.

The woman’s voice was like shattering ice as she addressed the man in her grip. The seventeen-year-old couldn’t help shuddering at her tone, but tried to stifle it quickly because the tail was still staring at her. Her words burned with a cold sort of passion, and she said the word “mutant” as if she revered it. Apparently she didn’t take too kindly to the man insulting her mutant status. Haylee had heard about these types of radical mutants and seen news reports about their acts of terrorism on the mansion TV. There had been those types of attacks back in Chicago too, but they were not as wide-scale as the ones in New York.

She flinched as the mutant female brought up her leg, even though she was still some feet away. She heard the man’s cutting screech of agony before she saw the blood rapidly staining his pant leg. Her hands flew up to her mouth involuntarily as she let out a strange strangled noise, as if a cry had gotten mangled on the way out of her throat.
>>>"It’s only because he has hatred in his heart for mutant kind and encourages that hatred in others that he suffers now. The scars I give him will stay with him for life and remind him until his dying days exactly what he did to earn these scars."
Haylee flinched again when she realized the woman was addressing her, and willed herself to respond, “H–how could you…”

She shook her head, disgusted with herself. Here a man was getting mauled by some insane mutant lady, and she was doing nothing to help him. You’re being the person you hate. She used the revulsion against herself to speak again, and tried to keep the fear from seeping into her voice, “How can you just mangle a man like that and use your mutation to justify yourself?” Her voice got harsher as she progressed through her question, and she was rather pleased that she had gotten some anger out with it. “It’s mutant supremacists like you who reflect badly on the rest of us!” She exclaimed with a pang. If it wasn’t for mutants like these…would she be living a normal life? Or was it just human nature to—the blood dripping from the man’s leg grabbed her attention, and the brunette realized that she would have to get him to a doctor quickly. How would she extract him from the woman’s grip though…?

Meld enjoyed the feeling of pain and fear of the victim beneath her blades. Despite her wishes not too, despite the fact that she would have far preferred to go back to the old days in which blood was just blood and pain was just pain, she couldn't help the thrill of pleasure that raced through her system. However now, unlike many times in recent memory, she maintained control of herself, not allowing her craving for more take over. She wanted the man to live, to carry the scars and the memories throughout the rest of his life, and so he would.

The woman, it seemed, did not appreciate Meld's actions, although that was nothing new. What was new, however, of if not new than at least interesting, was the fact that the woman had just admitted to being a mutant. Meld smiled at her, approving of such status. It didn't bother her that some mutants didn't agree with her policies or her actions. She knew she was doing the right thing, fighting for her people, and if the mutants who disagreed would simply open their minds and realized that they were living in a land of fantasy to assume that humans would simply change their ways on their own, then they would agree too. It wasn't really their fault that they niavely wished for a world in which humans and mutants got along as the best of friends. Meld wished for that too, she was just smart enough to realize that such a world would never exist until the threats to such a peace were eliminated or, at the very least, forced to change their ways.

Taking a metal claw, Meld drew it across the man's right cheek and then a second time, forming a dark red X on his face. It would scar that way, a tribute to the X gene, the mutant gene, and a constant reminder to him and anyone who looked upon him. "Be thankful I'm in a charitable mood," she informed him before discarding his weak and bleeding form on the ground. She smelled the rank odor of urine and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Its not about my mutation," Meld calmly explained to the girl. She didn't seem much younger than Meld herself was, and yet her words proved just how young she was, in mind if not in body. "Its about blood and protecting our people. Its about protecting those who are took weak or too afraid to protect themselves. Its because of men and woman like this that so many mutants have to live in fear and shame of what they are. Why don't we leave this alley and walk about. I prefer not to be in the presence of filth." She gestured with her mutant hand towards the end of the alley leading to the street.

The woman seemed to approve of Haylee’s mutant-ness as she flashed her a…would you call that a smile? It seemed more like she was baring her teeth and coincidentally curving her mouth upwards, then actually smiling. It almost made the girl shudder again, but the fury starting to burn inside her prevented it. She was angry now, and no matter how incredibly scary this lady was, she wouldn’t cower anymore. At least, not outwardly.

As the seventeen-year-old took a step towards them, the woman again took one of her blades and quickly sliced the man’s face. Red filled up the X-shaped wound instantly, and he let out another, almost animalistic whimper of pain. It was surely an X to symbolize the X-gene that all mutants carried; Haylee wondered if she marked all of her victims that way. The homeless man let out another groan as he was carelessly tossed onto the ground, his injuries still flowing with blood. This was her being charitable? It seemed more like she had enjoyed it. The seventeen-year-old swiftly ran over to the man’s side, crouching down while trying to find something to staunch the bleeding. His eyes grew wide when he saw her, and he quickly tried to scrabble away despite his painful condition. “D–don’t hurt me! Just leave me alone, you mutant!”

You. Mutant. Just leave me alone. All she had tried to do was help him. Help him after some insane lady had mutilated him. And yet, because he knew she was a mutant too… Haylee slowly got up, taking a step back from the man. Despite her shock, she knew she couldn’t just leave him like this, and took out her wallet from her back pocket. She dropped a few bills onto the blood- and filth-stained ground, knowing that he’d take them as soon as she and the other woman left the alley. Money was money, no matter who gave it.

She barely heard what the woman said as she walked out of the alley, a deadened feeling sweeping over her. She caught a few words about protecting their kind, and a few about how mutants were feared and ashamed. I am feared, and I am ashamed. I am…a mutant. She had hated herself ever since she had found out. Hated herself because of what others had said to her. Hated herself simply because she didn’t know any other way to react. Anger flooded her body again, and she slammed her right fist into a brick wall at the mouth of the alley. She was too numb to feel her knuckles starting to bleed. Taking a step into the light of a street-lamp, Haylee saw the woman’s sadistic face clearly. She saw her metal-fused body in its fullest, the man’s blood drying on her blades. “You…” The girl said quietly, a barrage of feelings accompanying the small, simple uttering, “Convince me that your actions were right. Convince me that you didn’t just do this because of some twisted pleasure you get in dicing people up.”

The mutant woman was, apparently, a charitable type. When she left the money on top of the homeless man, Meld couldn't quite prevent a smirk. "You know he's probably just going to buy drugs with that money, right?" She understood why some people refused to use violence to solve their problems, even if she disagreed with the stance in certain circumstances, but to give money to a drug addicted, homeless anti-mutant bigot? That was completely beyond comprehension.

Meld shrugged at the woman's angry response, not really grasping where the anger came from. She was resigned to the fact that she just wasn't destined to understand some people. Kealey was a little like this woman, but at least Kealey's logic made sense even if it wasn't always right. This girl, so very young in mind if not entirely in body (at least not much younger than Meld in body) was obviously allowing her emotions to rule her mind and senses, something that was never particularly smart. Allowing emotions free reign was allowing vulnerability. It was allowing the possibility of mistakes and vulnerability combined with mistakes often lead to injury or death. Emotions were a liability unless tightly reigned in and only allowed out at appropriate moments.

"I don't need to convince you of anything," Meld answered blandly, although the fact that the pleasure she had taken in her acts of violence had been obvious enough for even a girl such as this to notice did bother her. It wasn't the act that bothered her, that was entirely justified, it was the fact that she had taken pleasure from it. She was making progress against that monster inside of her and maybe one day she would defeat it properly, but that day was not, alas, this day. "Whether or not I took pleasure in the act is irrelevant. That man despises mutants and was propagating hatred. I had to make an example of him and show him the error of his ways. I only hurt those that deserve it, those that show the hatred against mutants that they feel inside."

She shook her head at the metal-fused woman’s comment about the money, and was about to say, “No, he’s going to use it to get medical attention,” but knew that it wasn’t true. Even as the words ran through her head, she knew she was just trying to fool herself into thinking she had done a good deed. It came to mind that she should phone an ambulance or something for the injured man, but it was quashed when she remembered him telling her to keep her mutant-status away from him. The brunette’s sense of justice was overridden by her feelings of wrath and the sting of being discriminated against. Oh yes, she was doing a good deed indeed.

Her lip twitched upwards at the older female’s response, her suspicion had been confirmed. The mutant really had enjoyed mutilating her victim, and was trying to cover it up with indifference. It disgusted Haylee, but also gave her no small amount of pleasure to know that this twisted woman had some form of weakness. “Oh, I’m sure slicing through one petty homeless man will persuade the rest of the human population to suddenly accept mutants. In fact, why don’t we add some mutant-hating children to the list of examples to be made? Then everyone will love our kind!” She finished her tirade with an involuntary huff, and started feeling the cuts on her knuckles burn. Crap. When would she learn that walls were not punching bags?

“At least, I know you wouldn’t mind doing the honors.” Now she was just taking a cheap shot, but she didn’t mind. It vaguely occurred to her that she should call the cops on this crazy lady, but she would wait. She wanted to fight and she wanted some action, verbal or non-verbal. At least Haylee had a small chance at winning with words…

Meld watched the play of emotions on the teenager's face. It was rather fascinating to watch, really, on someone who was not practiced at hiding her emotions as many were in her own line of work. She had never been the greatest at reading people, it simply wasn't one of her strengths, but in the young it was usually easier. Young in mind and experience rather than body, although in the teenager's case it seemed to be a lot of both. Many would call Meld young in body, only having recently reached the age of majority, but her experience made her much older than most when it came to her mind.

"If one believes in the mutant cause, it has to be fought for all the time, constantly," Meld explained patiently to the girl. Perhaps one day she would learn why Meld did what she did, although all too often such learning involved horrific traumatic events and she didn't wish those events upon anyone and certainly not a mutant. It wasn't the girl's fault that she hadn't yet been exposed to the dark truth of the world. "You might not think that sending a message to one man will make a difference and in the long run, the difference it makes is minimal. But its the small things that, in the end, add up to the big things. One + one + one + one, to infinity and perhaps, if everyone remains vigilant, one day true change will be the result." Every word she spoke she believed with all of her being. Her cause, the mutant cause, was her life.

It was when the teen suggested that Meld would torture children that she stepped over the line and Meld's entire demeanor changed, taking on an air of icy threat. When she spoke, her voice was frigid and there was threat implicit in her words. "I do not hurt children. Children have the capacity to change and are victims of their circumstance. They deserve a second chance, far more of one than that piece of garbage behind us does."

She was not a kid. This woman was speaking to her like she was some five-year-old throwing a temper tantrum, and it brought another shiver of anger through her body. She didn’t even look that much older than the teen, and yet she was addressing her like she had a decade on her. And the way she spoke about her so-called “mutant cause,” it brought back that tone of reverence she had before. There was so much passion, so much obsession, in those few sentences; it was as if she was talking about a lover, one she adored with every atom in her body, and would willingly die for. She probably would. It was almost disturbing to see how devoted she was to her cause.

“If people adhered to what you’re saying, then wouldn't everyone eventually die out? Killing or mauling them one by one…until there’s zero, when there’s no one left, because believe me, humans wouldn’t stand by to watch their kind die," she said, managing to keep her voice pretty level despite her current emotional state, "For every human’s blood, one of a mutant’s will be spilled.” It was strange how Haylee considered mutants and humans separate already. The effect of being in an all-mutant school, around those who called those without the X-gene humans and those with it mutants, had left its mark. But it was an upsetting change; it was like saying mutants were no longer human beings. No longer people.

The metal mutant’s next words produced an audible scoff from the irate seventeen-year-old. “What about when those children grow up? That man you attacked…he could have been a ‘victim of circumstance’ too. He could have been an innocent child, influenced and manipulated by those around him into believing what he believes now. No one is born with hatred in their veins.” By the time she was done with her second outburst, her barely restrained voice was no longer restrained. Haylee was openly livid now, and her fists clenched involuntarily. She could feel the scratches on her hands sting as her skin grew taught around them, pulling them apart slightly.

It was clear by the words that the teen spoke that she had only a partial understanding of Meld's philosophy. Meld did not advocate killing every human that lived. On the contrary, she preferred to kill as little as possible, only those who actively worked against the mutant cause should die because they were the ones that stood in the way of progress and potential peace. Hell, she hadn't even killed the homeless man although in the past she might have. She had sent her message and that was all, a message that needed to be heard. True, there were mutants who were much more willing to kill anyone who called themselves human than she, but why was the girl so very angry at her actions?

"Most humans deserve to live just as peacefully as mutants," Meld explained, trying to remain patient with the girl. "Most humans have no hatred in their hearts and although they might fear mutants," rightfully so in some cases, "they bear us no ill will. Why should anyone want to hurt or kill them? No, its only those that incite hatred towards us that deserve to be punished. That man back there, he propagated hatred. However, he was not a ring leader, not an activist against our people and so I left him alive. The message was delivered, its severity equal to the crime of the man. Had he raised a hand against myself or you or any other mutant, then perhaps the outcome would have been different." She just didn't understand such irrational pacifism.

"As children age into adults they are given many opportunities to change their ways, to see the error of their beliefs. Children are not entirely responsible for their actions, adults are. One can only forgive so much in a person." Once again the teen was acting as if Meld had killed the man, which was mildly baffling. She had left him alive and while he was scarred and wounded, none of the injuries were serious. He would heal with time leaving him none the worse, save the X on his cheek and the memories of his experience. "Why do you care about some homeless man who would rather see you dead for the mere fact of your being a mutant anyway?"