Agnes was surprised by the bounty she was able to attain tonight. She had heard rumors that a burned out Taco Bueno building had been bought and replaced with some new franchise fish place called Fishy Joe’s. She knew from her time in the streets so far that opening day for many of these places produced a lot of left over trash and food. Most of it came from inexperienced kid cooks who over cooked one thing or made too much of another or finicky costumers who changed their minds constantly about what they wanted. The excess in trash was a cornucopia for someone like Agnes.

As soon as she had entered the alley behind Fishy Joe’s, the scent of freshly cooked fast food assaulted her senses. She had checked around and thankfully nobody else seemed to have caught onto the tip. That was how she made her way to the trash gondola, pushed open the lid and glanced down at the large mound of black trash bags. Another glance to make sure there were no workers or anyone else around and the teen dug into the plastic with her fingers and pried it open.

Once ripped open, the smell of fries, deep fried fish, half eaten biscuits and whatever else was they had served all came to her. The corner of her mouth drooled slightly as she dug in and pulled out a white paper bag. Agnes opened it and sighed happily. It looked almost as if a whole, uneaten meal had been thrown away.

“Must be my lucky night,” she said happily as she pulled out the white bag as well as filled it with whatever other supplies she would need.

Once she collected as much as she could carry in that bag, Agnes let the lid of the can close and jogged over to a corner behind some boxes, where she crouched down, set her duffle bag next to her and began to enjoy her glorious find. She chewed on fries and half-eaten fried fish hungrily and paid little attention to what else was around her. But, just as she was about to take a bite out of a biscuit, she paused when she heard laughing.

“Hehehe, yeah man, so you got the stuff or what?”

“Of course man! Some of best Ipods and stolen car stereos in town. I got everything!”

“Lemme see, lemme see!”

Agnes gulped as she very quietly set the food into her duffle bag and peeked over the boxes. There were at least three of them, deliquint youths, probably no older than she was, talking to another guy who had two backpacks open. In mouth his “customers” were digging through and looking over stolen electronic equipment. She shook her head and cursed her once glorious luck. Biting her lip, she tried to decide whether to stay or go. But soon that decision was taken away from her. Just as she stood up, a hidden cat grew started, screeched and clattered across the fallen trashcans.

“AHH!” Agnes screamed in surprised and stood up, backing away from the clatter.

This immediately drew the attention of the three thugs who looked up in just as much surprise. The second they saw Agnes though, a shared grin showed up between them. They blocked her exit and started towards her.

“Hey baby! Whatcha doin here all by yourself?”

“L-Leave me alone. I…I didn’t see anything…” she said as she tried to back away. The buzzing started in her chest again.

“Who said anything about that?”

“Yeah,” another of them leered as she edged far closer to the girl than the other two. “We just want to talk to you.”

"Leave me alone! STOP!"

A hand reached out to grab her arm and Agnes tried to pull away. She screamed as the men began to harass her and blocked all her exits. The poor girl could only look about terrified, scream, and pull the buzzing in her chest to grow louder and release her swarms to hopefully save her.

Cursing under his breath, Mat looked up at the buildings that loomed above him, trying to find some clue as to just where the hell he was. A landmark to guide him back to where he was going. Anything! As far as he could tell, he had been circling the same few alleyways and streets over and over. Frustration starting to set in, Mat swore once more and hugged his arms around himself, trying to ward off the cold.

He usually had a good sense of direction. Once he had spent some time somewhere, the location usually imprinted itself into his mind. Living on the streets, one soon learned how to navigate themselves around a city. Problem was, Mat hadn't been sleeping. And when he didn't sleep, he got tired. And being tired made him less observant. Made him stupid. Hearing the rattle in his pocked, Mat pulled the bottle of caffeine pills free, opened the top, and chewed on a few, spitefully. The whole reason he had gone out tonight was to buy them, his last batch having run out. Seemed that recently he was going through them like they were candy. They just didn't have the kick they used to have. He briefly considered looking around the city for something...stronger. Quickly, he dismissed the idea. He had left all that behind after meeting Bloom, and Trip and the others. It was probably unwise to go back to it.

So he kept walking, and hoping that he'd find where he was looking for soon.

Mat had met up with several other denizens of the street, after spending most of the money he had. Business in the world of selling art on the streets having been slow the last few days, and the nights having grown colder, his new acquaintances invited him to share the residence they were currently squatting in. Some burnt out apartment that had been lost in a string of arson attacks. It wasn't the safest building in the city, or the prettiest, but it was dry at least, and relatively warm. Now, if only he could find it again.

Entering some alley, the smell of fish and chips lingering in the air, Mat's attention was grabbed by the shrill cry of somebody yelling 'stop'. As he tried to gauge which direction the cry had come, a scream, this time more urgent, came from around a corner. His curiosity piqued, Mat went to investigate further.

Three thugs were grabbing at a girl, blocking her from all directions. Another guy, two backpacks at his feet, stood apart from them. The girl was struggling to get away from the group, visibly afraid. Not that Mat could blame her. He noticed the clothes she was wearing. Patchy, torn and threadbare, and visibly filthy. Signs he recognised. Signs of a street kid.

Mat hesitated. It would be easy for him to walk away. He hadn't been spotted yet, and it would be easy for him to slip away and forget that he had seen anything. It was a dog eat dog world, right? Bad things happend all the time, especially if you were not careful. Especially if you lived on the streets.

He looked at the girl once more. She was younger than he first realised, only a teenager. A wave of disgust washed over him. She reminded him. Of another time, a different life. Of a girl with grass for hair.

“Oi! Tough guys,” Mat yelled, stepping forwards before he could stop himself. “What the f*#k?”

The thugs stopped what they were doing, turning to face the newcomer. One of them, a male with an ugly sneer plastered on his face, strutted over to Mat, stopping a couple of meters from him.

“Fool, what the hell do you want? Keep walking before you get yourself hurt.”

Mat turned his head and spat on the ground, a sneer on his face. During his years on the streets he had come across all sorts of punks who put on the tough guy act. In front of their friends, more often than not. Mostly it was empty threats and big talk, but every now and then there would be the ones who went that step further. Packs made big men out of cowards, and seeing a lone, scrawny hobo tended to make them even more arrogant.

“What're you gonna do, mate?” Mat taunted. He kept the smirk on his face, showing the thug that he wasn't afraid of him or his little gang.

The thug stared at him for a brief moment, disbelief on his face. Then he reached behind his back and pulled a handgun from his pants. Pointing it at Mat's face, he took a couple steps forward. “Whatcha think I'm going to do?”

Oooooh, right. America. Guns. Second Amendment. The right to bear arms, and all that.

Sweat began to gather on the back of Mat's neck. During his time on the streets, Mat had had a knife or two pulled on him, but never a gun. Gun control laws in Australia meant that he had never really had to worry about them before. And if there was one thing that made a coward braver than a group of accomplices, it was a gun.

Mat raised his hands, showing that he wasn't a threat. He flicked his eyes to the barrel of the gun, to the thug, then to the ground. Chances were he would only have one shot at this. He brought the image to mind, ready for what he had to do.

As quickly as he could, image ready, Mat stomped on the concrete ground. As soon as his foot hit the pavement, he could feel the reaction begin. And as quickly as he could, faster than he had ever done so before, Mat willed the matter at his feet to spring to life. Almost instantaneously, a concrete fist sprouted up from the ground and drove itself between the thug's legs. Hard. A concrete uppercut. The thug's eyes bulged. There was a clatter as the gun fell to the ground, and man dropped to his knees, wheezing and spluttering. Mat allowed himself a smirk of relief.

The right to bear arms. And fists.

Mat's gaze drifted to the remaining two thugs, who stared at him with jaws dropped. He gave a small shrug, to them, and to the girl.

No point worrying about it now. Now, he was committed.

Agnes was sure this was the end. She saw everything flash before her eye the second the three men began to surround her. She saw herself as a child, running around the church yard with her brother. She saw herself in school, struggling to get solid straight A’s, as well as learn practically every bible passage her parents threw at her. But worst of all, she remembered the past few months: her running away from home, struggling in the streets at first, trying to comprehend how she ended up in some dirty alley after a lifetime of a warm bed and food always cooking. Then she remembered the pain. The ‘exorcism’ that attempted to drive the ‘evil’ out of her.

And that thought only made the buzzing in her chest louder. But through that din of agitated insects, she heard a voice, the voice someone intervening…someone chivalrous…someone courageous…someone stupid.

>> “Oi! Tough guys…What the f*#k?”

The tough talk did not last for long. After the usual macho display of staring each other down and trash talk…a gun was pulled. She did not blame the newcomer. Guns tended to give even the bravest and most well meaning of souls a shiver. She wanted to utter her thanks for trying, she prayed that someone would not die on account of trying to save her life. It was not worth it. But before her eyes, the scene suddenly took a turn. The exhausted looking, what had to be Twenty-something, man seemed to be concentrating, then stamped his foot, and Agnes was shocked by what followed next.

There was a sudden rise in the concrete underneath the gun-wielding thug, before her eyes, a fist shot up and struck the man hard between the legs. Even Agnes winced when she watched that concrete fist smash upward. It was obvious that that man would never be having kids the rest of his life. She wanted to cheer on, but one of the men who had grabbed her, tightened his grim on her arm, nearly breaking it as he pulled her backward twisted her arm behind her back.

“Another one of those freaks!” he shouted as he held Agnes like a shield. “Cut the fool!”

The other two, one producing a switchblade and the other grabbing a discarded 2x4 board, began to advance on the newcomer. Her anger seething, Agnes struggled against the man who held her, only to be reprimanded with a quick up turn of her arm.

“Ow!!”

“Stop struggling! We we’re only going to show you a good time!”

Anger at its apex, the buzzing in her chest was clearly audible now. Shaking all over, she struggled more against the grip but even that began to loosen at the sounds she was emitting. A heavy breath and Agnes suddenly pulled her arm free and turned around her face her attacker. His eyes wild with rage, her voice lost in the buzzing, she gave him a sadistic smile as she suddenly pushed close to him.

“I’ll show you a good time!”

As she screamed her pink, chapped lips opened and from her mouth came the loudest of buzzes. It sounded like a swarm of flies were living inside her chest…and that precisely was what it was. Sensing that their hive were in danger, Agnes opened her mouth wide, and released a The Swarm. A cloud of black flies and yellow/black wasps flew from her the depths of her body, up through her mouth and out into the air, ready to attack the nearest perceived threat…the man before them. The cloud of flying insects immediately attacked and bombarded his face with stings and bites. But that was not all. From her lips, thick black shapes of roaches fell. The crawled from down her lips, past her throat and scurried up the arms of the man who had attacked her.

The man scream and flailed about as he was attacked by insects and Agnes only stood back and watched in anger as her Swarm, some of the most disgusting and reviled things on the planet, protected her life. She remained unmoved as the man struggling, screamed on the ground as things bit, stung and crawled all over his flesh. Agnes did nothing but watch.

One down, three to go.

Mat turned his attention to the remaining men. One of them had grabbed the girl, twisted her arm behind her back and hid behind her, shouting orders to the other two. Sure enough, one pulled a knife and the other picked up a piece of wood. Both were now advancing towards Mat.

Glancing down at the ground, Mat swore under his breath. In his hastily made decision to use the concrete, he had failed to put enough force in to the stomp to create a full golem. And in doing so, had exhausted the most abundant and easily accessible source at his disposal. It would be hours before he could use the ground at his feet again, the duplication process negating any further attempts. The concrete hand now all but useless, Mat commanded it to leave it's middle finger raised, and broke the mental connection. He hoped the sentiment wasn't lost on the rest of the thugs.

Judging by their scowls and the way the pair began advancing towards him, weapons clearly brandished, they had gotten the message.

Glancing around, Mat looked for another source. The wall on one side of the alley was brick and mortar, the separation of the bricks making it no good for anything large. The other side had been rendered over, leaving a nice smooth surface. Nice and solid, perfect for what he wanted. Problem was, there were now two armed men standing between it and him, the thugs having circled around in an attempt to trap him against the brick wall.

One of the thugs stopped short, while the other continued circling around to flank Mat. Once they were in position they started to close in. Mat's eyes flicked from one man, to the other, then over to the girl. She was struggling against the man holding her. Mat bit down on his bottom lip, and hoped that he didn't have a weapon on him. While Mat applauded the girl's bravery, he was worried about her safety. His attention focused on the two thugs in front of him, as well as the girl and her struggle, Mat failed to pay heed to his surroundings. Stepping on white paper bag full of food, it slid away, causing him to lose his footing. Falling to the side, Mat smacked his head against something hard. His head swimming, his senses muffled, Mat swore he heard someone scream something out, though his mind was too shaken to decipher the words.

Mat reached up, grabbing hold of something, and pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. He was vaguely aware of a buzzing noise that had begun to fill the air. Another scream now mingled with the buzzing, but this one was lower. And much more frantic. Like the panicked screams of a man.

As the world started to cease spinning, Mat noticed the two men rushing in to take advantage of his fall. Glancing down, Mat saw what he had grabbed onto in order to lift himself, and a grin broke out on his face.

A rubbish skip. A solid metal rubbish skip.

Balling his hands into fists, Mat pounded on the side as hard as he could, the impact running up his arms. Once. Twice. Three times. Hopefully, he hadn't left it too late.

Agnes wanted to say that the young man who jumped in to help her out of this tight spot was valiant, fought off all the thugs and rescued her without so much as a second thought. Yes…Agnes would have liked to have said that. Unfortunately, though he made a pretty valiant effort at first with that concrete fist, he was thrown off by the advancing of the two other, armed thugs. But Agnes did not have long to focus on helping him because of the first man who had grabbed and threatened her now lay withering on the ground wasps stung, flies invading and roaches bit.

It took a bit for her to step back and when she did and finally started to calm, her insects began to relax as well. Shaking, she opened her mouth and accepted them all back into her as they eagerly flew and crawled back towards her. Within moments, Agnes stood there as her swarm flew and crawled down her throat and back into their nests.

She gagged for a second but spun around just in time. The pair of thugs had advanced on her intervener. She could have easily taken the chance to run, to make a break for it. Yes he tried to help her, but that was his problem. You should never risk yourself for someone else, especially when you have a life on the streets. Agnes knew that. She learned that lesson a long time ago and she always made it a point to always follow her own advance.

A glance down to the alley, then a glance back and before she knew it…she was running away.

The thugs advanced, grinned between each other as the man seemed to act a comedy skit by slipping on the paper bag. They laughed amongst themselves as they advanced and paid little attention to what happened to their other cohort who had Agnes. All they wanted was blood from the man who had dared to intervene in their affairs. But as he started to recover and then grab onto the metal trashcan and then banged it three times with his fist.

The man with the knife only shrugged, half expected another mutant display then made to rush forward and stab the man.

WHACK!!

The thug’s eyes went wide for a brief moment as sheer pain clouded his brain before then turning into complete blackness. Behind him, a discard, rusted metal pipe in her hands, stood Agnes. She had hit just hard enough to completely knocked the man out. She had no idea what her rescuer was doing, but she did not pay attention. Instead she smacked the fallen thug again, shakily on his ribs and spat onto his coat.

“That’s for touching me!” she yelled and then struck him once more on his ribs, successful cracking one or two with that blow. “And that’s for interrupting my dinner!”

She breathed heavily as she turned back to rescuer and the final thug to witness what else her mutant hero had up his sleeves.

Two things managed to buy Mat some time. Firstly, his banging on the dumpster caused the thugs to hesitate slightly. They knew he was a mutant, and they had a rough idea of what might happen. That was enough to stop them in their tracks, even if only for a brief moment. Secondly, with a sickening thwack, the girl whom Mat was attempting to save cracked the thug holding the knife over the head with a pipe. Mat watched in amazement as the man dropped to the ground, and the girl hit him once more, shouting her hate and venom at him.

My hero?

While the remaining thug was caught, unable to decide who to attack, Mat willed his golem to life. Arms grew from the side of the skip, and the golem pushed itself free from the surface, dropping onto the ground. It stood, shorter than Mat would have liked, being limited to the amount of material available. Still, it was large enough to do some damage. At around 4 and a bit feet tall, it was shaped like a short, stocky man.

With a mental prompt, the golem ran forwards, metal feet clanking on the ground. The thug, who had been expecting something, obviously wasn't expecting this and stood rooted to his spot like a deer in the headlights. As the golem approached, it drew back a fist. The man, his wits returning to him, swung his piece of timber into the steel man. Had it been capable of feeling pain, the golem may have stopped. As it was, the 2x4 simply splintered in two, and the golem drove it's metal fist into the man's shin. A loud snap echoed through the alley, and the man fell with a scream.

The threats neutralised, Mat let out a long breath and slumped back against the wall behind him. He could feel something trickling over his ear. Gingerly inspecting his head with his fingers, they came away bloodied. He must have opened himself up when he hit his head against the skip. Ignoring it, he glanced over to the girl, still clutching her pipe.

Not exactly the way he had intended the rescue to go. Still, they were both relatively unharmed.

“You alright?”

He pushed himself upright and began to make his way over to her, when he spotted the man he had practically neutered earlier behind the girl. The thug had managed to push himself to his knees, and was holding his gun up unsteadily. Without thinking, Mat commanded the golem to run. It grabbed the girl around the waist and roughly spun her around, placing itself between her and the gunman.

A shot rang out into the night.

>> “You alright?”

Agnes stood still, her weapon poised and ready to strike the fallen thug again. When she heard her “hero’s” voice, she looked up and studied him carefully. She didn’t know why he had bothered to help her and part of her was suspicious about his motives. Most people were suspicious to her anyways. But as she glanced between the man and his metal creation, she had to admit that she was a little impressed…and a little scared. The man had abilities she doubted she could contend with.

She simply nodded and responded.

“I’m fine…thank y-“

Before she could finish though she heard the charged footsteps of metal feet running towards her. With a gasp she turned just in time to see the metal humanoid creature, scoop her up, spin her around and hid her barely against its chest. For second she screamed to be let go of, thinking the man was attempting to kidnap her. This immediately caused an array of curses, mixed with the frightful buzzing in her chest. She struggled in vain against her captor, but then she heard the shot and felt the impact shudder throughout the metal beast, as well as the ricochet.

KA-BLAM…CLING…WHIRRRL!

Agnes stopped struggling that second, the buzzing loud in her ears as she peered over the golem’s shoulder and glared at the man who had just taken a shot at her. Her anger rising, her skin flush, and the buzzing deafening, Agnes felt the creepy crawling and suddenly opened her mouth wide. She was close enough to the assailant that her swarm would perceive the threat. In an instance, from her parted lips a cloud of flies and wasps erupted and flew directly for the gunman. They knew they their nest was in danger and Agnes had been in danger.

She watched as the man with the gun flailed about, wasps stinging his face and flies buzzing in and out of his nose and ears. She could have to replace many of them, not an event she looked forward to. But for now, thoughts that she were still being held by the golem and the hero had disappeared. Instead she merely stared at the gun man, swollen from wasp stings and bombarded with flies. A small smile crept over her face as she watched him suffer before she finally did turn to her rescuer.

“Mind making this thing let me go?” she asked.

The bullet ricocheted off the golem and the girl finally stopped struggling against its grip. Not that Mat couldn't understand. People didn't tend to take kindly to small metal men holding them against their will. After the shot was fired the girl glared at the thug, her face turning an angry shade of red, and regurgitated a swarm of insects.

That was the only way Mat could describe it.

The buzzing he had heard earlier filled the air once more. The girl opened her mouth and the insects flew from her parted lips, straight at the man. He screamed as the swarm stung at his entire body, unable to escape it. Mat looked at the girl once more and saw the expression on her face. She was smiling, a tiny malicious smile that showed how much she enjoyed making the man suffer. Mat couldn't blame her. He probably would have done the same thing.

With the thug now well and truly taken care of, she turned to Mat and asked him to release her. With a small grin Mat commanded the golem to let go. It took a couple of steps backwards and held its hand to its forehead, in a salute. Mat broke the connection and the golem froze in place. In the distance, sirens began to fill the air.

“We should get out of here. Cops tend to investigate gunshots, and in my experience don't take all that kindly to mutants.”

He had initially stopped to help the girl because she was a street kid, but now that he knew she was a mutant as well he felt that he had made the right choice in stopping to help. Without waiting to see if she would follow, Mat turned and began back down the alley. Street kids tended to be skittish at the best of times, unwilling to trust strangers, unsure of any ulterior motives. He understood that. He had been there himself. He had done what he could to get the girl out of trouble, but she had no obligations to him because of it. Now, if she so chose, she was on her own. But you helped out your own, whether mutant or homeless. That's simply how it went.

She would follow him, or she wouldn't. That was all there was to it.

>> “We should get out of here. Cops tend to investigate gunshots, and in my experience don't take all that kindly to mutants.”

Agnes had been set down, watched the metal man salute and then remain frozen in place. In surprise Agnes walked up to it and gently poked it with her finger. When it did not more, she slowly began to back away from it when she heard her rescuer shout out to her. It was then that she finally took notice of the sirens. That did not take long at all. She frowned a little as she glanced down the alley the he disappeared to and then towards the other alley from which she had come. She needed to make a decision fast.

Slowly her swarm buzzed close, bounced and nudged against her face. She looked irritated but there was little else she could do. Finally she sighed as she opened her mouth and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she felt that buzz of wings and that crawling of insects happy to return home. She held her breath, counted and waited for them all to disappear back into their nests instead. For a moment she wondered how it was done. All she knew was that on the day her mutation developed they crawled inside and made their home and now, whenever she was threatened, they appeared. Sometimes she wondered if they lived in her organs, scurried around her insides, but she knew that was false. There was something, in her chest that they lived in. Maybe her heart had been replaced with a wasp nest, as in an old Nordic folk story she heard on TV.

Finally once the few she had not lost returned to their home, Agnes gulped and licked her dried out lips. She turned back to where the man had disappeared to and sighed heavily. She really had no other place to be tonight. The least she could do was personally thank him for saving her life.

With that she ran back over to where her duffle bag had been dropped, snatched it up, then jogged off down the alley after him.

“Hey, wait up…” she called as she followed.

The sirens were much closer now. Whoever had called about the gunshot must have done it that very second it happened. She was surprised to see the NYPD respond so quickly. She caught her breath as she jogged up next to her “hero” and adjusted the duffle bag strap over her shoulder. She gave her an awkward smile and appreciative nod.

“Um…thank you. For back there,” she said as she cleared her throat. “You really helped me out of a jam.”

>>>“Hey, wait up...”

The echo of footsteps gradually grew louder as the girl jogged to catch up to Mat. He smiled, glad she decided to follow him instead of disappearing into the night. Soon, she caught up to him and fell in step, giving Mat an awkward smile.

>>>“Um...thank you. For back there. You really helped me out of a jam.”

“No worries,” he replied with a smile of his own. “Thanks for smacking that bloke with the pipe. I may have gotten in a little over my head.” He laughed, still a little embarrassed that he had to be rescued by the person he was rescuing.

The end of the alley lay ahead, opening out onto the street. Before they got there, Mat paused and reached into his pockets for the bottle of caffeine pills. He took two in hand and dry swallowed them. Not that he particularly needed them, but it was a habit, something familiar. He took the time to inspect the girl closer, now that all the drama had died down. She was a scrawny little thing. Mat wondered when she had last eaten. His own stomach gave a tiny, sympathetic growl at the thought. There was also the smell. It lingered around her, a smell he himself wore at times. One he was familiar with. It told a tale of dumpster diving and living in whatever filth you had to. A smell of survival. He didn't wrinkle his nose, didn't screw his face up, made no indication that he had even noticed it. The girl was obviously living hard, and he was in no position to judge.

“You know,” he began, after debating whether or not to reveal this, “if you were just some regular citizen, I probably wouldn't have helped you.” He didn't say this to be cruel, or to make himself out to be some champion of the helpless. It was a fact, plain and simple. He wasn't a hero, not by a long shot. But he was prepared to stand up for those like him. Those without a home, those who lived on the extreme fringes of society.

Those no one else would bother sparing a second glance.

He sucked some air between his front teeth and made his way onto the street. He checked the damage to his head once more. The bleeding seemed to have slowed. Probably meant it wasn't a serious wound. He would live.

Sticking a hand in his pocket, Mat fished around for any cash. He felt a couple of crumpled up bills and a few coins. He was sure that he had left enough cash for a few more meals. Soon though, he would have to sell some more sculptures.

“After all that excitement, I'm pretty hungry.” Mat stopped and nodded towards the fish and chips store they were standing in front of. A sign hung over the door, reading Fishy Joe's. Not the most appetising name in the world, but when you used to eat from bins you soon learned not to be too picky.

“You want anything?”

>> “You know…if you were just some regular citizen, I probably wouldn't have helped you.”

Agnes did not respond to this as she followed the person who had just aided in saving her life back there. To be honest the statement did not at all surprise her. At first she thought maybe this had something to do her being a mutant. After all, maybe he had some chip on his shoulder against humans. He seemed pretty adept at hurting them when the situation called for it. But maybe there was something else in what he said. From his look, it did not seem like the man had a stable home either. Maybe he was just as bad off as she was?

>> “After all that excitement, I'm pretty hungry…You want anything?”

Agnes was unsure what to do. She merely stood there and faced the front of the building she had just came around the back from. Her duffle bag still smelled of the stale fries and breaded fish. She knew that had plenty to keep her satisfied, but it was trash food. It had been awhile since she had anything that as freshly prepared…and not dug out of a trashcan. She eyed the man closely, as if trying to judge whether or not he was worth the trouble. He did rescue her, but trust can be broken even in light of such things.

She sighed a little in thought as she glanced between him and the restaurant. Suddenly she became very conscious of her appearance. Her greasy, disheveled hair, her patched up, soiled clothing, the dirt smeared face. Another glance inside and she gently shook her head. There was no reason why she could care what people thought of her. After all, whatever exterior they attempted to show off was all lies. She knew that. She lived and reveled in their trash and disposables. They were nothing special.

But still, she felt she at least had some shred of dignity. She ate trash but that was because she had to, not because of choice.

“Thanks…but no,” she said as she patted her duffle bag. “I have plenty.” she gulped as she toe kicked the ground, then looked up and held out her hand to shake his. “My name’s Agnes.”

>>> “Thanks...but no. I have plenty”

The glance the girl gave the restaurant did not go unnoticed. Mat had been on the streets a fair while now. Any shame he once felt about his situation had passed. Indeed, he even felt a sense of pride about being a street rat these days. Despite the cold, despite the hard times and the lean times, to Mat the streets symbolised the freedom he so desperately sought. He wasn't tied down to a mortgage, or to a landlord. Bills were of no concern. No need for him to waste his life away in the faceless anonymity of the 9-to-5 crowd. Money was not a concern for him. Apart from needing to eat, Mat honestly had no real need for money. He could find, or failing that, pilfer anything he needed. As long as he had enough to not starve he was okay. He was completely off the grid, unencumbered by society's expectations. He wore his homelessness as a badge of honour. So it was easy for him to forget that other vagrants didn't always share his sentiments.

The poor girl was probably too embarrassed to go inside.

>>> “My name is Agnes.”

Agnes. An old fashioned name. Mat gave the girl a friendly grin as he took her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you Agnes, I'm Mat.” He glanced through the window of the store. There were several customers inside, but no one waiting in line. He released the handshake and wandered to the door, pausing before he went in. “I'll only be a sec, if you wanna wait out here.” She had chosen to follow him rather then go off by herself, so it was safe to say that she would stick around. If she bolted, then that would be that. But Mat knew that trying to force someone like her to stick around was an invite for her to run. By giving her the option to make her own decisions, Mat hoped that she would realise he wasn't trying to force her into anything.

He pushed the door open, and immediately all eyes turned in his direction. It was a common reaction. The general public often couldn't believe that a street person would have the means or the inclination to enter their domains. His very being was often an affront to their delicate sensibilities. Instead of shying away from the staring eyes, and twisted looks of disgust, Mat put on his winning smile and strode forwards, head held high. Every gaze he met quickly turned the other way.

As he approached the counter, he saw the serving girl struggling to put on her service smile. He widened his own smile and looked up at the menu trying to decide what he wanted. “Hi, can I get a box of fried prawns, two serves of chips, and...two cokes.”

“Um...sir? You're, uh, you're...”

“Bleeding?” Mat finished for the girl. “Yeah, I'm aware of that.”

The girl scurried off to place the order, and Mat fished out the money from his pocket. There was less than he originally thought, but still enough to cover the food. He had ordered more than he was planning to eat. Agnes may have declined his offer for food out of pride. If so, the option of 'helping' him finish his own meal was always on the table.

Just because she was homeless didn't mean she couldn't enjoy food from a kitchen, rather than the garbage.

Agnes did not know why she wanted for the man who had rescued her to come back. Maybe she just had some kind of affinity for the man. He did save her and the least she owed him was some company around the dangerous alleys and streets of New York. Besides, she was still a little shaky after what had happened so maybe it would be best she were in the presence of someone else. After all, thugs and lowlifes tended to target those who were by themselves, especially young girls. Then again, she was not entirely alone. The swarm did do its best to protect her, however disgustingly they chose to exist within her.

So she waited…and she watched.

It was apparent that this Mat, had no fear or embarrassment about how he lived his life. He strode into that restaurant confidently and ordered just as if he were any other customer. It was something awe-inspiring for Agnes to watch. She had considered herself pretty accepting of how her life was turning out, but compared to Mat she was obviously not.

He flashed them a winning smile, ordered with confidence, and did not even wipe the blood off of his face yet. Agnes watched through the window as she waited. As she did so, she noticed the stares and whispers from the other people in the restaurant. Nobody else seemed to treat him with the same degree of admiration that Agnes had at the moment. As a matter of fact, most everyone in the place seemed more irritated that he was in there taking up space.

“You all sit there and judge…but I’ve seen what you throw out,” she whispered more to herself than anyone outside. “None of you are any better.”

Still the thought of people judging her made her sniffle. It was like the world were a giant high school, with everyone trying to fit in and those who cannot find their niche being rejected and made fun of. Agnes did not want to be made fun of anymore, but neither did she struggle to fit in. Instead…she wanted nothing more than to fade into the alleys and dark corners of the city.

She sighed a bit as she continued to watch Mat. As she did, she opened her duffle bag and pulled out a old, greasy bag of fries that she had just stolen from the trashcan before being attacked. Casually she munched on them as she awaited Mat’s return. If he was going to eat, she might as well snack now.

As he waited for the girl to get his food, Mat glanced back at the entrance. Agnes was still standing outside, waiting for him. That was good, she hadn't run. He supposed that she may have been shaken up about the attack, and he couldn't fault her for that. If the slight tremor that had sprung up in his hands were any indication, so was he. More than likely the adrenaline of the fight was wearing down.

“Here you go sir,” the girl behind the counter chirped. She handed him a plastic bag with his order in it, and Mat handed her the money. With a smile, and a thank you, Mat grabbed a handful of serviettes from a dispenser and strolled out of the shop. He briefly considered leaving a sculpture in his wake, just to mess with the clientele a little. However, figuring it would bring too much unwanted attention, Mat decided against it.

He stepped out into the cold night air and saw Agnes eating from an crumpled old bag of fries, most likely fished out of the bin he had hit his head on during the fight. He remembered her screaming something about the thugs interrupting her dinner, while she was pounding the crap out of one of them with her piece of pipe. She was probably scavenging for food when they came across her.

“Here, have a chip while they're still fresh,” Mat offered, holding the bag out to her. “I think they gave me too much food, there's no way I'm going to be able to finish all this.” He gave Agnes a wry grin, to show her that he wasn't offering out of pity. Even though, he kind of was.

“I guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach,” he smirked.

There was something about this girl. A timidness, a bitterness at the world, a sadness. He had seen it often on the streets. Downtrodden kids who had nowhere or no one to turn to. Betrayed by those who should be protecting them. He wondered about Agnes' parents, and whether they knew that their daughter was living in the streets. Maybe she didn't have parents. Or maybe her parents were the reason she was here and not at home.

Unbidden thoughts of Bloom suddenly entered his mind. When he had first met her, she was so scared and alone. So clearly a mutant, she had had nobody until the day Mat met her. The first mutant he had ever met, not including himself of course. Likewise for her. It all seemed so long ago. Another lifetime. Mat pushed the thoughts away. This was not the time, nor the place.

Still, he couldn't help but think that the only reason he wanted to help Agnes so much was to make it up to Bloom. For failing to protect her.

“So, know any good places we can stop and eat?” Again, if he gave Agnes the choice of where to go, chances were she wouldn't feel threatened.

Patience, then trust.

>> “Here, have a chip while they're still fresh…I think they gave me too much food, there's no way I'm going to be able to finish all this…I guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach,”

Agnes watched the man warily, as he handed her the bag of fresh French fries. She had to admit that it did smell rather tasty. She sighed a bit heavenly as she looked them over and very carefully reached out her hand. She was cautious and kept her eyes on Mat as he offered the open bag to her. It was rare left her guard down and now was not going to be an exception to that rule. Instead she eyed the man closely as her grimy fingers closed around a single fry and pulled it out.

She did not want to seem ungrateful, but she had to worst luck when it came to meeting new people and she did not want this one to bite her back. With a steady hand, her will finally broken, she put the fry in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.]

The sliver of fried potato covered in grease and salt coursed across her tastebuds and left only euphoria in their wake. She wanted to shiver but she did not. Instead she simply sighed, letting her satisfaction be revealed through that as she leaned back against the wall and chewed on the fry. She managed to make that one last a surprisingly long time as licked the left over salt from her lips and took a single, deep breath. When she opened her eyes she spotted that Mat was staring at her and she quickly cleared her throat.

“Ahem…uh, t-thank you.”

>> “So, know any good places we can stop and eat?”

Agnes thought for a moment but made no motion to leave. This guy wanted to go someplace to eat…in quiet? She had that moment of fear grip her heart that maybe this guy was not as knightly as she figured him to first be for rescuing her. Now she looked at him and for a second saw the everyday lowlife she normally ran into offering charity. But…he gave her the option. Obviously he knew if he tried anything she could run…but how far could she get with powers like his?

Then…a thought came to her. She knew a good place with plenty of escape routes should the need arise. She nodded her head as she looked up at him.

“Follow me.” was all she whispered as she walked off into an unknown direction.