It was a fairly nice day, all things considered. The breeze wasn't too cold and for moment the was no snow. The sun was shining too. It was a nice day for winter. Of course it was still cold so the coffee shop Andrew had visited while out and about was doing a brisk business. People bustled to and fro and the chairs were mostly taken. Andrew stood in a line that was at least six to eight people deep. There were more behind him as well. The baristas were showing weariness from the excess of customers. They looked exhausted and run off of their feet.

The line moved slowly forward as each person ordered their drink and moved off to the side to await it in a constantly shifting mass of people. Andrew too did this in his turn, ordering a latte. Today wasn't a day that required black coffee that was so strong it could possibly kill taste buds. No today was perfectly ordinary. You might almost call it good. He had some extra cash on hand and a bit of time so he'd decided to head into the city and see what could be done. There was a small park just across the way from the shop that he'd decided to have a walk through after getting his coffee.

Andrew tucked his hands in his coat pockets as an order was called. A businessman stepped forward to claim it in a hurried fashion and turned to leave in the same manner. Andrew noticed moments before the man collided with him that the lid wasn't entirely secured. The lid came off, the man dropped his drink. Somehow the liquid managed to avoid it's purchaser nearly entirely. The man had a few splashes here and there but was otherwise fine. Andrew on the other hand now had steaming hot coffee down the front of his coat that smelled of cinnamon and caramel. He felt a little bit like dessert.

The other man apologized and handed Andrew a twenty by way of apology. The shop replaced the spilled drink and other than Andrew's sodden coat there was no other damage. On the bright side he'd smell good. On the not so bright side his coat was still drenched and thereby rendered somewhat less useful at keeping out the cold until it dried. Once he got his own drink Andrew located a table and divested himself of the garment in question. He might as well get comfortable.

Lydia Renard basked in the sunlight, the wonderful, wonderful sunlight, as she danced her way down the street. Okay so she didn’t really dance, but she felt like dancing. It had been so long since she had felt any sort of sun-related warmth, it was a welcome change. It was still chilly out, of course, but there was no disgusting snow falling down or ice to slip on. Dia loved it.

Pretty soon, however, she started looking for some place to stop and rest. She had been walking around all day, shopping and browsing, and her feet were complaining. The first place that caught her eye, a small café at the end of the block, seemed to be pretty busy. Did Lydia want to wait in that long line? The delicious scent of coffee wafted out of the constantly moving door and beckoned to the skin-shifter. It gave her no choice in the matter.

She enjoyed the warmth that greeted her inside the cozy establishment and waited in the back, almost pressed against the wall. This place must be really popular if it’s this crowded, she thought as the procession slowly inched forward, names being called every time a new drink popped out. When she was near the front of the line she witnessed a man hastily grab his drink and accidentally spill it all over a younger man standing near him. Ouch, Lyd thought to herself as workers scrambled to resolve the problem.

Wait a second. Something about the younger man was really, really familiar. Although she didn’t get a full glimpse of his face, she thought she recognized him from somewhere. Where…? Her brain would not cough up the answer. Once she finally ordered and received her drink (a peppermint mocha, single shot and easy on the whip), she followed the familiar man to the table he sat at, the other seats were all occupied.

“Hi, um, this might be kind of weird but I thought you looked kind of familiar and,” Lydia said to the back of the man's head as she walked around the table to the other seat, “I was wondering if I kno—OH! You’re the guy who got shot!” It all came back to her once she saw his complete face. “Ah I mean, do you remember me?” She said quieter, taking the empty seat without asking. “Whoops, I guess I shouldn’t have been so loud, people are looking at me like I’m crazy.”

Andrew was prepared to sit quietly in the crowded cafe while his coat dried. He wasn't planning on company or conversation. Yet that was precisely what he got. The voice was vaguely familiar when it began to inquire whether or not it's owner knew him. He was almost tempted to say yes just based on that, since they both thought they knew each other. However she managed to let him avoid that necessity when she shouted, rather loudly, about him being shot. Now that he could see her he knew instantly what she was talking about. After all, there was only one incident in recent memory where he'd been shot at, let alone hit. The failure that had been the mutant rights rally.

This was the very same girl he'd met there. She took the other seat at the table without asking. That was probably a good thing since she now had effectively half or more of the people in the shops staring at them. She was well aware of that fact too and said as much. Andrew chuckled a little.

"Yeah that's me. I remember you. From the rights rally."

That had been an outright disaster. Andrew decided not to dwell on it. Instead he had someone to get reacquainted with. Though whether or not the word reacquainted really applied was debatable. He'd only met her the once and that hadn't exactly been conducive to introductions and friendships. Oh well.

"How have you been since then?"

Polite conversation would do until he remembered her or she stated it. The coffee on his coat was beginning to dry into a large stain that would need some serious cleaning to get out. As long as it kept him warm he didn't mind all that much. Andrew took a drink of his latte as he waited for his sudden companion to reply.

>> "Yeah that's me. I remember you. From the rights rally."

Lydia started to cringe at the mention of the rally, but stopped herself and twisted her mouth from a grimace to a smile. It wasn’t a pleasant memory, and she really didn’t want to dig it back up. She’d much rather focus on nicer topics. Like this guy’s gorgeous blue eyes. She tried not to stare.

>> "How have you been since then?"

She pondered how she should answer this question for a moment. Honestly, the skin-shifter had had a terrible time after the rally. It was as if that one bad event had started a chain reaction of more bad events throughout the next month and a half. “I’ve been all right,” she lied. The only good things that had come out of that time were that she had acquired a tattoo (and it was debatable whether that was a good thing or not) and met a few interesting people. And she supposed this was a good thing too, meeting this man again.

“Save for the usual New York craziness, of course,” she added with a smirk. “What about you, uh…?” She trailed off, realizing that she didn’t properly remember this guy’s name. Was it Adrian? Anthony? Lyd was sure it started with an A. She actually didn’t really know who this person was at all, save for maybe his name and the fact that he was a mutant. Oh, and she knew that he was kind of insane and had no sense of self-preservation.

“Er...I’m sorry, but I think I forgot your name,” the teenager said sheepishly. Well, this was embarrassing.

He studied the girl as she spoke. Living at a school you learned to be able to tell what age someone was fairly quickly. Especially if you were young enough and supposedly attractive enough to garner attention from the students. Most of them were content to crush on Sam. That was fine by Andrew. Occasionally he got one or two that would stare at him instead. This girl was probably either fresh out of high school or nearly that way. He also noticed her near cringe when he mentioned the rally. That hadn't been a good day. He tried not to dwell on it.

For her part she claimed she'd been alright since then. Andrew wasn't sure whether or not to believe her even after she tacked on the part about the craziness of New York. That he smirked at.

"It's crazy alright."

She tried to ask whether he'd been ok or not but slipped when it came to his name. That was fine. He didn't expect her to remember his name. They had had more pressing things to worry about when they'd met.

"Andrew." he shrugged, "Well, other than the mess that is my coat I guess I can't complain."

He was still alive and not in trouble of some sort at the moment. That counted as a decent situation to him. He drank some of the latte and glanced around the coffee shop. It was emptying somewhat and already felt less confined. Andrew leaned back in his chair and looked at the girl whose name he couldn't quite remember either.

>> "Andrew. Well, other than the mess that is my coat I guess I can't complain.”

Aha, Andrew…eh, I was close. “That’s good,” Lydia replied, “And yeah I saw what happened. People these days…that guy needed to slow down.” She took a sip of her drink as the man in front of her took a sip of his. She wasn’t quite sure what to say or do now. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to suddenly approach this guy and take a seat next to him. What were they going to talk about? They had met each other through a tragic event that neither of them wanted to recollect, and otherwise didn’t know much about eachother at all. Heck, she hadn’t even remembered his name.

The skin-shifter glanced out the store-front window and thought about making a run for it. Maybe she could conveniently remember an “appointment” she had to keep or something. It was out of character for her to want to leave a possible friend behind, but every time she looked at Andrew, all she could think about was guns and blood. Lyd couldn’t think of anything to say that didn’t have to do with the rally, or how his recovery from the gunshot wound had been.

She decided to go for the go-to topic for mutants. “So um, I never really found out what your mutation was,” she mumbled, her voice sounding unsure and awkward, “Care to share?” It was a pretty common question. It was usually one of the first things people asked her when they found out she had an active X-gene. Well, usually it was, unless the person was an anti-mutant bigot. Then she typically got tossed some anti-mutant slur. She was pretty sure Andrew wasn't an anti-mutant bigot, so hopefully this would start some sort of pleasant conversation, unless he had some gruesome mutation he didn’t like to talk about. He hadn’t really demonstrated anything when Dia had first met him, but she couldn’t be sure. For all she knew he could have to ability to transform into some weird sponge monster.

The teen glanced down at her drink, feeling an uncomfortable pressure settle around her. Why did she feel so damn awkward? She was always friendly with strangers, but now she just felt weird. She took another sip of her drink while she waited for the young man’s answer.

After responding to his well being the table grew quiet. What did one say to another mutant when you hardly knew each other at a jam packed cafe? The girl seemed to have the same problem. Therefore Andrew was hardly surprised when she picked the one question that was pretty much standard when you were meeting a mutant for the first time. What was his mutation? He smirked a little. He'd almost gotten used to talking about it. It hadn't gone too badly wrong so far. He had friends that would protect him if it did.

"I keep promises. I keep them or I get hurt."

As with all people he wasn't entirely certain that he could trust Andrew avoided telling her about the effects the promises could have on him. That was ammunition he didn't want people he couldn't trust having.

"What about you?"

Andrew couldn't recall whether or not he'd seen her use her mutation at the rally. He hadn't exactly been noticing much beyond what he'd been doing. If she'd told him before he didn't remember at all. He took another drink of his latte.

Andrew thankfully didn’t seem to have any apprehensions in explaining his mutation. That was a relief. Lydia listened intently as he explained what he could do. Promises? Not something you hear every day, she thought, But if he doesn’t keep them he gets hurt…? That doesn’t sound very fun. She wondered if she could ask for a more detailed description, especially about the whole “or I get hurt” aspect. The young man seemed pretty satisfied with his short one though. Maybe there was some hesitation in there, and that was why he was keeping his explanation so succinct.

>> "What about you?"

As she prepared what to say, a thought struck the teenager. A physical demonstration of her mutation would be so much more fun than a simple explanation. If a picture was worth a thousand words, then a real life exhibition was probably worth…well, worth more than a plain, boring description. She started grinning as she opened her mouth to talk about her mutation, all the while gripping her paper coffee container tightly, really focusing on feeling the surface touching her bare hands. “I can change my skin into different textures. Like say, the texture of this cup.” Lyd continued to smirk as she held up her hand close to Andrew’s face. Her long fingers had already begun to slowly change from a pinky flesh tone, to a stark white, the same color as the cup. All of the lines and ridges on her hands began to disappear, replaced by the smooth paper. It was a longwinded and slow process, but the traveling shift was noticeable.

“I hope you don’t mind the demonstration…I just thought you’d get a better idea of what I can do if I just showed you. I’m not the brightest with words.” So what if they were in a crowded coffee shop? Andrew didn’t seem like the type of guy who was embarrassed or scared of a little showing off. After all he had gone to a public pro-mutant rally and had pretty freely told her what his mutation was. There wouldn’t be any problem, would there?

She seemed interested but didn't ask any questions. That was good because he really didn't want to have to find a way to say that he didn't exactly trust her without offending. Her mutation it seemed allowed her skin to copy the properties of various materials. It was interested and probably had its uses. He nodded as he watched and in response to her preference for demonstration rather than explanation. It worked well for abilities that could be easily demonstrated.

"I don't mind. I'd show you mine but it's not exactly easily demonstrated and the parts of it that are tend to be painful."

He gave a shrug.

"Its just easier over all for me to explain mine."

He took another drink of his latte and looked around. The place was still crowded. People were restless and an ill mood seemed to over take those waiting in line. Andrew did not want to go back into that line. In fact he would have preferred to leave altogether. Crabby people in need of a caffeine fix were unpredictable. He was stuck until his coat dried. At least, if he wanted to remain comfortable anyway.

When the coffee shop finally seemed to be emptying out some, another large influx of people came in. It was as if they had all appeared out of nowhere, their appearance was so sudden. And they weren’t a happy bunch either. No, they were the late afternoon, “I’ve been working all day and need my coffee NOW” bunch. They were all grumbling about how slow the line was and eyeing those in the front with contempt and envy. Lydia was glad she was already sitting comfortably in a chair with a warm mocha in her hands.

Again, Andrew mentioned mutation-related pain. That only served to pique her curiosity about what he meant even more. Of course she understood why it would be hard to demonstrate the ability, but his explanation was so lacking in details. And he didn’t seem remotely embarrassed about his mutation, so why was he being so vague and indistinct?

Lyd couldn’t help it, she had to ask.

“What do you mean by ‘painful,’ Andrew?” She questioned, hoping she wouldn’t regret asking when she got an answer.

By now, both of her arms were fully shifted, and the skin on her neck was starting to change, a tiny glimpse of stark white visible above the collar of her coat. The girl thought briefly of what she was going to do when she was done shifting. She wasn’t so sure she’d be able to shift back right away. Part of the reason she had initially come to New York was to learn how to control her powers better through the advanced training area in the Sanctuary, but she had soon discovered that there was little the impressive technology could do for her. A computer-simulated obstacle course was awesome, but wasn’t very useful if her mutation only affected her. Dia still had to figure it all out.

Andrew absentmindedly watched the girl's mutation continue it's work for a moment before looking away to the crowd again. They didn't hold his attention long. Her question conveyed the fact that she apparently hadn't been satisfied with his rather vague explanation of how his mutation worked. Andrew stifled a sigh and answered her.

"I mean painful. As in aches and pains or worse."

To give an example of the 'worse' portion of it Andrew lifted his left sleeve until the scar on his forearm was visible. It was small but it was there.

"That's just the tip of the ice berg and the only scar I have that can be easily shown in public. I don't think the owners would like it if I ignored the 'No Shirt' sign."

Andrew took another drink from his nearly empty container.

"In short my mutation can hurt me. It could even kill me. I don't want to find out for sure frankly."

Now would come the pity, in some form or another. He expected it by now. People were used to mutations being helpful or dangerous to others. It was another thing entirely if all it did was hinder the mutant in question.

>> "I mean painful. As in aches and pains or worse. That's just the tip of the ice berg and the only scar I have that can be easily shown in public. I don't think the owners would like it if I ignored the 'No Shirt' sign."

Andrew elaborated by raising his sleeve, revealing a scar. Oh, that was what he meant by “pain.” That…really, really sucked, especially if it got worse. But he talked about it so nonchalantly, so calmly. Lydia wasn’t sure if she should be giving the typical “awww, I’m sorry” reaction, or if she should be acting nonchalant too. This wasn’t the first time she had heard or seen a mutation that had a negative effect on the mutant, although there were usually positives attached to those negatives. It seemed for Andrew there were nothing but negatives to his mutation. But maybe his was still developing…?

Mutations kind of matured too, didn’t they? Maybe his wasn’t done growing up, and it was going through some growing pains or something? Or maybe she was just being an optimist.

>> “In short my mutation can hurt me. It could even kill me. I don't want to find out for sure frankly.”

“Ah…well…are you getting help for that? ‘Cause I know a great place with a huge training area for mutants and everything.” Okay, so it wasn’t so great for her, but maybe it could help Andrew? She hadn't explored all of the functions of it, really, and she hadn’t asked anyone there for help. Maybe there was someone who could relate to the young man’s power and help him out? (Maybe Lyd could find someone to help her out too.) “Andrew, ever heard of the Sanctuary?”

It was with a small smirk that Andrew watched her fumble for a response regarding his mutation. She then suggested training it and asked if he knew about the Sanctuary. So she was a resident of the Sanctuary huh? She didn't really seem the type. The Sanctuary residents seemed a bit more crazed than her.

"I've been there actually. I know someone lives there and promised her I'd visit at some point. Ended up going around Christmas last year. It isn't a bad place but my mutation isn't the kind that can really be trained. How would you go about training a promise making mutation?"

Andrew shrugged.

"Besides that, if I ever want to train I know a few people I can ask. My time would be better spent learning how to fight than trying to expand on a useless mutation."

That was the long and the short of it. What point was there in trying to train his mutation? It wasn't like Kate's fire mutation or Sam's ice. It wasn't even like Kealey and her empathy. His mutation was so limited and had no real effect to control. About the only thing he could do would be to work on learning better ways to resist the influences it subjected him to. That was a possibility but it wasn't one he was going to contemplate now.

>> "I've been there actually. I know someone lives there and promised her I'd visit at some point. Ended up going around Christmas last year. It isn't a bad place but my mutation isn't the kind that can really be trained. How would you go about training a promise making mutation?”

“Oh…” Lydia said, a little crestfallen, but she supposed he was right. She had just thought that maybe there could be chance…well, if he’d already been there then there was no use going again for that purpose, was there? “So who’s this someone?” She asked casually, “Maybe I know her?” It was pretty likely, since she had been at the Sanctuary for quite some time now. The teenager probably would’ve seen Andrew visiting too, had she not gone back to California during the holidays.

>> "Besides that, if I ever want to train I know a few people I can ask. My time would be better spent learning how to fight than trying to expand on a useless mutation."

How to fight? She looked the promise-keeper over, trying to gage his muscularity. He looked kind of skinny, but maybe he had some hidden abs under that shirt? Not that she was trying to imagine what was under his shirt or anything… “I wouldn’t call your power useless. I don’t think any mutation is useless.” Lyd paused, mulling over what she was trying to say and whether or not she should even say it. “It kind of keeps you honest, doesn’t it? You can’t make any promises you can’t keep, so you can’t hurt anyone that way.”

The girl asked after who it was that he knew there at the Sanctuary. Andrew didn't suppose that it would hurt to tell her. Mind you he'd have to caution her about mentioning that he'd told the girl about her to Ahorta. The woman was a paranoid sort far beyond what he'd ever been. The last thing he wanted was her finding out that he'd talked about her without her there to ok it.

"Ahorta is her name. At least that's what she told me. She's a bit paranoid though so no mentioning that I mentioned her to you. I've also met Lori and Kaitlyn. Lori gave me a tour of the place and Kaitlyn showed up as I was trying to leave."

Once he'd said his piece on that she then went on about how no mutation was useless and why his was good. It reminded him of what Lori had tried to say to him during his visit. He hadn't believed it then and he didn't believe it now.

"Oh that's not how it works. I can make promises I can't keep. I can make any promise I want. I could promise to turn the moon into swiss cheese if I wanted to. It's simply that I'd get hurt for not keeping them." he grimaced, "It's nice of you to try and say otherwise but my mutation isn't useful at all."

That was it in a nutshell. His mutation wasn't useful and it wasn't dangerous to anyone but himself. What good was being forced to keep promises? Andrew shook his head a couple of a times to clear out such thoughts. He'd been down that angsty path before and he wasn't going to do it again.