Allison giggled at the unripe champion’s growl as well as she could while running, then laughed at his attempts to yell at her, deliberately making the laughter louder than it would be. “You can’t even breath! Catch me if you can!”

A bit more running took Allison into a surprise clearing, paved with stone squares--mostly broken, with moss growing in the cracks--that surrounded an old probable fountain; a fairy holding up a dove with its wings spread and beak open, on a pedestal in the center of a basin surrounded by foot-high cement walls. The walls were cracked, too, and half covered in moss, and no water was flowing, but there were a few inches of collected rainwater in the bottom, and some leaves; most sunken but a few floating. She slowed down automatically for a few steps, taking the place in, then leapt for the fountain and sat on the wall, breathing harder than she’d like but not panting, and twisting to peer into the leafy rainwater. “Base!” she called slightly too cheerfully back at the unripe champion.

Drew growled again but it was half hearted and sickly sounding. More a fierce whimper. He was too out of breath to growl properly. After another moment or two and dismally noticing the widening gap between them Drew just gave up and reverted to walking. Now that he wasn't consumed by play he noticed that his clothes had dried at some point in the proceedings. His hair was still a bit damp but that didn't really matter too much. He trudged tiredly into the abandoned clearing about a minute after Rainbird did.

It was a very pretty place so Drew didn't even notice the shout of "Base!". He glanced around. It needed a bit of tlc but the abandoned look worked in it's favor. It was lucky enough to have a fairly pretty fountain that stayed pretty when it started to look old.

"Huh, I wonder when the last time the city sent maintenance here was? Probably more than a few years I'd guess."

Drew sat himself on the edge of the fountain as Rainbird had done. Deciding the game needed some closure he glanced over at Rainbird and grinned.

"I surrender. The Ripe Ones are too powerful for me to defeat."

Then he winked and turned his eyes to the sky while he regained his breath.

“Probably changed the entire governmental staff since anyone’s been here, yeah,” Allison agreed. She leaned down to stick her fingers in the water; it was a bit shallower than it looked. Maybe an inch and a half. “That, or someone has some special moss-growing and stone-cracking mutation. A team of environmental mutants that go around, breaking down human creations to return the world to their proper natural state.”

Allison grinned and rolled onto her back, letting one leg dangle off the wall and one stretch out across it. “Of course. The apple gods are ultimate. Nothing can defeat them.” She hummed and let her arms drop off the sides of the wall; one ended up in the water so she pulled it back out and flicked some of the drops up into the air. “It’s better to focus on good things.”

She was probably right. The place did seem like it could have been abandoned that long. Though her other explanation was more entertaining.

"What, like some more extreme version of the planeteers? Let's hope they can't summon a Captain Planet."

He chuckled at her assertion that the Apple Gods were unbeatable. There were tons of things that could beat an apple but logic had no place here. So he didn't bother with the list. Instead he just accepted that the Apple Gods were ultimate.

Then Rainbird said something remotely serious and he looked at her with concern. She hadn't been that close to normal the entire time so far. It was actually worrisome.

"I guess, though that's a little hard to do when you can't escape the bad things."

Was that whole persona just a mask to hide behind? Drew actually felt sorry for her if that was the case. Mind you one little serious sentence does not a mask make. However it stuck out so plainly from the tone of the rest of the conversation that it was sufficiently worrying. And he still didn't know her real name. Here he was worrying about a girl whose name he didn't know that he called Rainbird Stormdancer. Drew smiled a little. He felt like his old self for a second there. Worrying about other people instead of his own problems.

Allison hummed and shrugged. “Yeah, it seems like it, but if your arm’s broken, do you spend all your time thinking about it until it’s healed? Bad stuff happens, regardless of... well, anything. Who you are or what you did or your friends did or if you deserve it or whatever. But if you hate a group because some of that group hates you because you’re in a group that has some members that hurt them, all you’re going to do is hurt someone who didn’t do anything to you, or anyone else, but that’ll make them hate your group because you hurt them, and it’ll just continue the cycle until everyone hates everyone.”

She dropped her arm back to catch more water and flick it into the air again. “It’s harder to think about good things, but focusing on the bad things just creates more of them. Wouldn’t being happy be worth the effort to be happy? You can’t stop bad things that have already happened, but you can stop them from happening in the future.” She paused, then grinned. "Besides. Do you have any idea how infuriating it is for people who hate you when you just forgive them? It's hilarious."

Drew held his tongue. She didn't understand. How could she? She didn't have to live with constantly being pulled this way and that due to compulsions caused by a mutant ability. He couldn't not think about the bad things because they were always there. Always reminding him of them even when he did get a chance forget. Even when he'd been playing with Rainbird he'd thought about them. No, it was better not to forget. It was better to hate. Let her keep her philosophy, it did him no good now.

"If you say so."

Drew counted the clouds for a few long minutes before he heard the ring of a cell phone. He blinked.

"Huh?"

He fished his own cell phone out of his pocket to check. Nope, wasn't him.

Allison rolled her eyes. Anyone who said ‘if you say so’ never meant anything but ‘I don’t believe anything you’re saying, but don’t feel like arguing now, so whatever.’ You’d think people would come up with slightly more believable variants at some point. She stayed quiet anyway; no one that convinced would ever be willing to listen anyway.

Allison squirmed and sat up as her phone rung, managing to vibrate at the same time. I am quite sure one of those two was turned off last I checked... when did I check anyway? She dug the phone out of her pocket, checked the text, and giggled. ‘P.S: I smell like your hair now ’ “Here.” She shoved the phone over toward the boy. “This is the kind of thing to focus on. Funny stuff.”

He blinked when Rainbird shoved the phone at him but took it anyway. It didn't demystify her position at all for him though. She said this was the sort of stuff he should be focused on but all this said was that someone smelled like her hair now. What the heck did that mean? Also, what did her hair smell like? Now he was curious darn it. He handed the phone back to Rainbird and shrugged. So he was curious, so what? That didn't mean he had to do something about it right?

Wrong. His impulse control was apparently shot to heck because telling himself that he didn't need to smell her hair wasn't working. Well, since he was going mad surely she wouldn't mind to much right? Drew stood up and closed the small distance between them. He then seized a lock of her hair and sniffed. It...actually didn't smell too bad.

"Nice."

Dropping the lock of hair he bent a bit closer, because really he was insanely taller than her and that made it harder to reach the top her head, and took another sniff.

"You smell good...which sounds incredibly creepy and I'm totally sorry for saying it."

Let three facts be known:

Maxine did not have body issues, she was not a stalker, and she could not be held responsible for other people’s actions.

In order:

Fact One: Maxine did not have body issues.

She just got up at five every morning, and went for a little hour or two jog. This had nothing to do with middle school, and baby fat that Gerald Limbarsky had pinched during co-ed swim class and everyone had laughed and—

She just enjoyed the exercise.

Except that last night, she’d stayed up to watch unedited video clips of a department store opening. Really exciting stuff. There was over an hour of footage, from her own station alone. Then there was the station who’d originally caught a certain mirror walker’s mother on film, and five others who’d also been rolling in the area. Seven camera angles, spaced a few feet and a few minutes apart, all trained on the same crowd.

She’d made an Astro Moose run around midnight, for some inspirational caffeine. The next time she’d looked at the clock, it was six thirty. This morning.

She’d stuck a certain paperclip menace to the fridge, and rolled into bed with the curtains drawn.

Today—just today—she could feel fat until the afternoon.

And so it was that even before the storm fully cleared, Maxine was out jogging. Central Park was too crowded during the day for her tastes: she hit a less tourist trapped park, instead.

Fact Two: She was not a stalker.

But when a girl who habitually carries a camera nearly runs over a girl performing a singing séance with sparklers—well, isn’t diving into the bushes a natural reaction? Isn’t it? Especially when aforementioned girl recognizes other aforementioned girl.

Allison led quite the exciting life. Swashbuckling and chase scenes with cute boys included, apparently.

Maxine didn’t stalk the two: she simply trailed along, photographing the pair in their natural habitat.

Because a girl never knows when she’s going to need serious blackmail material on another girl. Hilarious blackmail material, mind you.

Fact Three: She could not be held responsible for other people’s actions.

After all was said and done, and the photos uploaded on her computer later that week—

Well, it wasn’t Maxine’s fault that Myra Stephens dragged her out of that hole-in-the-wall-apartment how-can-you-breathe-here and out to lunch. They chatted, caught up on life since graduation: Maxine’s new standing at the news station, Myra’s upcoming self-published book that was a-timeless-love-classic that only-needed-a-cover and had-a-great-Twitter-following-already.

It wasn’t Maxine’s fault that Myra, imploring the use of her bathroom before hitting the subways back to her side of the city, happened to spy the photos on Maxine’s open computer.

It wasn’t Maxine’s fault that Myra’s heart stopped at the perfection, the sublime capture of the moment—

And, her heart breaking at the thought of rejection, simply decided to skip asking for permission and e-mail the file to herself.

She was smiling like a loon when she came back from her extra-long time in the bathroom. Maxine smiled uneasily back, and showed her out the door.

Let these three facts be known: no body issues, no stalking, and no blame.

If there was any fame, now… Well. That was a different story, entirely.

Allison first spent several seconds blinking at the boy’s comment. Then, the next few minutes giggling helplessly.

“Don’t worry,” she eventually managed to get out between giggles. “You’re not the first person to say it.” She held up the phone again. “Emma spent two months calling me “the one with the happy smelling hair.” Her personality gets changed by what she smells, and my shampoo turned her into a happy fangirl type. So she got the same shampoo to use so she can always smell it so she can always be at least some part happy.” She dropped the phone back into her pocket and shrugged. “And other people talk about my hair a lot. So yeah, don’t worry. Not new."

Drew backed off just in time for Rainbird to dissolve into a fit of giggles. When she finally regained the ability to speak he learned that he wasn't the only one that thought so. Even more fascinating, he learn about a friend that Rainbird had whose personality changed with what they smelled. Drew felt a pang of sympathy for her. Here moments ago he'd been indulging in a pity party and yet there was someone in a similar situation out there. It was still difficult to concentrate on the good things mind you but he didn't feel quite so alone now.

"I know how she feels." he muttered.

The thought occurred that he hadn't properly introduced himself.

"I'm Andrew Leroy by the way. Andrew or Drew will do."

He settled back down onto a seat on the fountain wall and went back to staring at the clouds.

Allison caught the boy’s muttering, but decided not responding was the better idea. Having your personality changed on someone else’s whim was not, presumably, enjoyable, and from the sound of it the boy probably had a bit more to say on the subject than she really wanted to hear. She watched Emma go through enough already.

“Allison,” she answered, laying back down on the wall. Cloud gazing seemed to be the activity of the day.

A few moments of cloud gazing later--there was a dragon losing its head, and Allison didn’t want to watch--Allison’s attention was caught by dark hair above her. Specifically, Andrew’s hair. She tilted her head slightly, then managed to get up onto her hands and knees, crawl over, sit up on her knees--even sitting down he was obnoxiously tall--and lean over to smell his hair.

She sat back, looked thoughtful for a moment, and then announced her conclusion like the great discovery it was. “Your hair smells like hair.”

On finally getting her name Drew looked at her, head tilted slightly to one side like he was studying a puzzle. After a moment he brought his head back upright and nodded.

"Allison suits you but I still like Rainbird better."

They sat and watched clouds for a while before she sat up and returned the hair sniffing favor. It really was creepy. Allison had shot his impulse control to death today. After a moment or two she sat back and gave her verdict. A verdict that made him laugh.

"Well I guess we all can't have hair that smell wonderful." Drew turned back to cloud gazing only to think back again, though this time to a previous curiosity.

"Hey Rainbird? What did you mean by that inks comment earlier? Do you draw or do tattoos or something?"

Allison--or Rainbird, apparently, that was still amusing her, though not nearly so much as the hair smelling--hummed and nodded, curling up on her side on the wall this time. “Tattoos, no drawing though. Not good enough at it. Well, patient enough,” she corrected herself. “But, I can do tattoos.” She held her hand up for a moment, and the black and silver lines on that arm that were closest to her hand seeped out of her skin and into the air, mixing together to form a small disk of metallic black ink hovering over her hand, then spun out into a slightly wider ring. Like Saturn. I wonder if we just live on controlled dirt.... “Like this. Hurts a bit to absorb it, though. Or get it out. And burns, and freezes, and other stuff. Messes with the nerves.” She pulled the ink back down, absorbing it into her nails so they were shiny metallic black, and surveyed them. I like that effect.

Tattoos huh? Drew watched her display with fascination. He was actually very glad she wasn't a human. He wouldn't have liked having to hate her. It did make him curious. He extended his left arm so that she could see the four black bands decorating his wrist and forearm.

"Think you could do something with that?"

He wanted to know if she could manipulate it. That would mean it was ink of a sort. After all the pain and what not from his promises and various run ins he sort of doubted that anything Allison could throw at him would surprise him. He wouldn't tell her anything about them until after she tried.