It seemed a strange turn of events. When Mat had been living on the streets, he'd have given anything to escape the miserable cold and be able to settle into somewhere nice and warm and dry until winter had passed. Now that he was living somewhere nice and warm and dry, it was all he could do not to up and leave. Even if he was currently squatting in a mansion, after the week or two that he'd been here, he was starting to feel antsy. If there was one thing Mat really disliked, it was being cooped up in one place for too long.

That was why he had opted to run away from Mute's place, rather than stay. That, among other reasons.

So rather than sit inside, in the warmth and the cozy atmosphere, with all the little mutants kiddies, Mat had decided to spend the day out in the cold wind. Deciding he should probably give himself a task to justify such foolishness, Mat had managed to 'borrow' a backpack, and had gone out for a walk in order to collect some new source materials for his sculptures. So far he had duplicated several plates of various materials, each large enough to create a small sculpture. Now that he had a semi-permanent place of residence, Mat figured he could hold on to these plates and just reuse them, rather than having to find fresh sources all the time.

So he found himself sitting on a bench out in the Mansion grounds. He held plate of blue stained glass that he had managed to duplicate. It had been duplicated from a church window, when no one was looking. Mat held it up and looked through it, admiring the world in a blue tint. Setting the plate back down on his lap, Mat gently rapped his knuckles on it and created a tiny person, as a way to test and see how the material looked when used. He sat it on the ground, and watched as it danced. The light caught hold of the tiny blue sculpture, scattering through the glass, creating a beautiful splashes of colour on the ground.

This would do nicely.

Raven hated wintertime. I didn't matter if there was snow on the ground or not nor whether she had a place to whole up for the winter (although having a warm place to sleep did help) she still hated winter. It was simply too cold and too confining. It forced her to be inside when she was, in truth, a creature of the great outdoors. It just wasn't fair that she didn't have nice warm feathers like her faithful familair or the other crows or ravens around. Maybe she ought to move to a warmer environment. Like Florida or California. Maybe then she'd be sufficiently warm. It was something to consider.

Raven's plans for the day had, until that point, involved little more than moping in her room about the lack of warm weather and maybe a raid into the Mansion kitchen. That changed, however, when Blackwing caught sight of a most amazing sight. There was, in the scene that Blackwing beamed directly into her mind, a young man outside on the Mansion grounds. The young man, however, was not the exceptional thing, the exceptional thing was the dancing blue glass man in front of the man. It was somthing unique, something she had never seen before and clearly something she absolutely had to see now.

Suddenly far more excited about the prospects of the day, Raven put a warm jacket and pair of shoes on before runing down the stairs and out the door. She was, of course, capable of steal but in this exact instance stealth wasn't what was called for. What was called for was speed, the speed not to miss the amazing performance of the dancing glass man. Opening the door and following her familiar's silent directions, Raven stopped and staired, entranced, as soon as she caught a glimps of the miraculous sight.

Mat focused on the movements of his sculpture, making sure that it moved in a realistic manner. His precision with controlling his sculptures was good, had been since he had spent every waking hour making sure of it. But since coming to America, his control had gotten sloppy. With winter's arrival, his focus had gone back into finding decent shelter, and looking to make enough money to keep himself fed. Not that he needed to be too well fed. Since living on the streets, his body had adapted to eating only whenever possible, and not in too large of amounts.

Now that he had shelter and food taken care of for him, he had the time to restrengthen and retrain his his mutation control.

It had occurred to Mat, somewhere along the line, that he could possibly use his sculptures to make money in ways other than selling them as art. Having his sculptures dance was something he usually did for his own amusement, and the occasional amusement of others. The idea he had was that maybe, just maybe, he could use his sculptures to perform for an audience. And in order to do that effectively, he needed to ensure that his golems moved like real flesh-and-blood people.

Footsteps caught his attention.

Mat looked up, only to see a woman standing a short distance away from him. Her attention seemed wholly taken, not by him, but by his glass sculpture. He gave a smile, both at the interest this woman was taking in his art, as well as at the woman in general. She wore strangely colourful clothing, and had long jet black hair. Her arrival was serendipitous. Now, he had an audience to test his new performance art on.

And who was Mat to say no to a beautiful onlooker?

Carefully rummaging around his backpack, Mat gently pulled another glass plate free. This time, it was a plate of red stained glass. Gently knocking against the cold surface, he sat the plate on the snowy ground and began a mental count. This was all going to be improvisational, but Mat figured that all great performances were in some regards.

He was never one for being locked into a set idea.

A small arm sprouted from the glass, and waved around, as though looking for help. Mat commanded the blue sculpture to make it's way over to the red plate, and lean down as though studying the hand with curiosity. Mat realised that he would need to work on body language and gestures in order to convey emotion through the golems. Shifting facial expressions were out of the question if he was to focus on movement as well. He wasn't even sure that he could control facial expressions on his creations.

The blue person stood, reached out a hand, and grabbed hold of the flailing red hand. It pulled upwards, as though helping someone up off the ground, and an identical sculpture, this one red glass, stood up from the plate, materialising out of nothing.

Hand in hand, Mat commanded the two sculptures to embrace, like two long lost friends. Maybe two lovers. Mat's smile grew wider. This was something he could find himself enjoying. If Derrick the Bass Man could use his mutation as part of a performance, and have humans and mutants alike enjoy it, why couldn't Mat do the same with his powers?

Let the show begin.

Raven had never seen anything like the dancing glass man before. She wasn't like Blackwing and the other crows and ravens to be attracted only to shiny and colourful objects. No, mere bright colours weren't sufficient for her. Although she did tend to acquire such objects and did appreciate the beauty in them, often her motives for acquiring them had more to do with their bargianing potential than any innate trait they possessed. Novel items, things she had never before witnessed, those were a different matter entirely and the dancing glass figure certainly fell into that category.

Of course Raven realized that the man and his amazing statue was probably a mutant but that fact didn't much matter to her. Mutants were humans too, they just had unusual talents that most humans lacked. Humans and mutants alike, of course, tended to overrate themselves in comparison to the animal kingdom, little realizing the true brilliance and survivability of the ravens in the skies above them, but for this particular mutant she was willing to forgive him for that.

When a second piece of glass began transforming into another miniture and colourful animated person and joined thefirst, Raven actually laughed in delightment. "You are plainly amazing," she complimented the man and it was rare indeed for such a heartfelt compliment of a mere human. After all, humans were not the rulers of the skies, not like ravens. Sure some people thought that fell to eagles, but they were clearly mistaken. She even considered what kind of payment she should offer for the show.

Mat smiled as the woman laughed at his performance. It was the exact ego boost one could never get sick of. If Mat could manage to evoke such reactions in a large audience, then perhaps this performance idea wasn't such a bad one. It would be an amusing and exciting way to bring in some money.

>>> You are plainly amazing.'

Mat's grin widened at the compliment. Again, it was always nice to be complimented by strangers. This girl, with her colourful clothing and wonderful comments seemed to be an interesting acquaintance, one that Mat was more than willing to keep entertained. She had an interesting vibe, a gypsy, hippyish quality. She looked like someone he wanted to get to know. Her fascinating golden eyes may have had a small part to play in that.

“Thanks.”

He racked his mind, trying to think of the next routine of his performance. He let them run around a while, while he thought of an idea. Deciding he should plan his performances out a little more in the future, Mat figured he should distract the woman's attention.

“Cold out, isn't it?” A gust of cold wind blew up, as if to emphasis his point. “As nice as it is though, I find the Mansion can get a little confining at time, dontcha think?.” The wide open streets, how he yearned for them at times.

At mention of the cold, an idea coming to mind. He had the glass figures hug themselves, little glass arms wrapping around glass bodies. Exaggerating their shivering, Mat had them trudge along as if caught in a blizzard. Freezing and cold, and exhausted. The red he had collapse to the ground, unable to go on any further. The blue one, noticing it's fallen comrade, doubled back and hoisted the red to it's feet. Together, they struggled onwards.

He looked up at the woman, a welcoming smile on his face. “I'm Mat.”

Raven knew very well that her mind didn't work in quite the same way as most people's and that she was rarely entertained by the same things as the humans around her. Human entertainment was often baffling and confusing, not to mention dreadfully boring. Why ever would anyone want to watch big sweaty guys run after balls and hit each other? It was beyond her. These beautiful dancing statues, however, she thought that even the enigmatic humans around her would surely appreciate.

“Cold out, isn't it? As nice as it is though, I find the Mansion can get a little confining at time, dontcha think?.”

Raven nodded with enthusiasm, slightly taken aback but in the most pleasant of ways that the statue mancer himself would see things in much the same way she did. Most humans were content in their nice warm houses surrounded by walls and a roof. Maybe, just maybe, this one was different. "Oh yes," she agreed, cocking her head to the side in a fashion that hinted at her raven heratige. "You don't appreciate your freedom until the cold winter months take it away from you." She frowned, strifing at her confinement all the more. "The free food is nice though." Very nice indeed.

Once again Raven became distracted and entranced by the show the little statues were putting on, coming out of it only when the statuemancer introduced himself as Mat. "I'm Raven." She extended her hand to be shaken in a manner that most humans seemed to appreciate.

Dance, dance, dance, little minions. Dance, dance, dance.

>>> "Oh yes... You don't appreciate your freedom until the cold winter months take it away from you... The free food is nice though."

Mat laughed, somewhat at the woman's curious head tilt, and nodded in agreement. This woman nailed it right on the head. In the summer, when the streets are ripe for wandering, it was easy to take such open freedom for granted. Winter stripped that luxury away, and forced you to cling on to whatever you could. Not having to worry about eating was also a large bonus. “I know exactly what you mean.”

The woman extended a hand, which Mat clasped in his own, and introduced herself as Raven. Mat grinned, a long forgotten memory popping into his head. Of school, and of something he once loved.

““Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.””

His sculptures emphasised the poem with interpretive dance.

In his late primary school years, his teacher had called in sick. So as a substitute for poetry and writing, it turned out the replacement was actually the Physical Education teacher. Apparently, he had a love for poetry. And he had a love for Poe. And so Mat, eleven or twelve, heard The Raven for the first time, he found a beauty in the rhythms, the cadences. The subject matter, the pacing, he loved it all. And he memorised the whole poem as best he could. His favourite poem.

Turned out, he still remembered bits.

“So,” he asked, “what brings you to the mansion?” Pulling yet another plate from his backpack, this one black marble, Mat hit it and placed it on the ground. A black raven sprouted from the surface. At least Mat thought it was a raven. It may have been a crow.

Mat wasn't sure there was a difference.

The thing about humans was that there were all sorts of them in the world. When it cames to crows and even ravens, there were a rather limited amount of personalities and motivations. Once you knew one crow you pretty much knew most crows. Ravens were a little different, being the superior bird in all possible ways, but they still weren't nearly as varied as humans. Humans were often confusing and baffling, but they were also fascinating and every so often there was one that appeared that even had a little bit of sense about him. Like the amazing statuemancer.

“So,what brings you to the mansion?”

"The free food and housing," Raven answered, feeling no shame at all in the admition. It was whoever ran the place's problem that they were offering things for free, she wasn't doing anything wrong by accepting it. In fact, it would have been contrary to everything she believed to not accept their hospitality. A surviver knew when to take advantage of a good situation. "What brings you to the Mansion?"

Raven never took her eyes off of the show that was being up on before her and when the tiny raven emerged she actually clapped her hands in thrilled enjoyment. She proceeded to caw at the little bird, curious whether or not it would be able to respond to her.

>>> “The free food and housing.”

Mat laughed at Raven's answer. Not an insulting laugh, but one of genuine amusement. There was no embarrassment in her voice as she told him why she was living here. Only fact. A fact, that resonated well with Mat. She knew the score. She was, clearly, a survivor. A citizen of the wider world. And, like Mat, she seemed not to be ashamed of it.

>>> “What brings you to the mansion?”

Mat gave a smirk. “The free housing and food.”

He watched, with interest, the woman's reaction to the new bird sculpture. She clapped her hands and Mat found himself smiling at her enthusiasm. Then she did something unexpected. She cawed at the stone bird. Mat held back an amused laugh, in case she was offended. That was not something he had been anticipating.

He commanded the stone bird to tilt its head to the side, much like he saw Raven herself do, not moments before. It walked over towards the woman, and gave a flap of it's wings. Pity it was made of stone, it might have been fun to have a flying sculpture.

“You can talk to birds?” Mat asked, referencing Raven's unique vocal ability. If she lived here, then it stood to reason that she was a mutant. And with a name like Raven, and the ability to caw like a bird, it stood to reason that her powers were avian-related.