Stephen finally settled in to his temporary apartment, which consisted of putting away one suitcase worth of clothing into drawers and the closet. Once his possessions were dealt with, he opened up his laptop. He checked the e-mails of three aliases before deleting them, closed all accounts and deleted all evidence regarding the last Pittsburgh job. Stephen always felt a rush of relief when it finally came to setting fire to a chapter of his story before turning the page. He thought forward to what stories he would be burning when he left New York.

When his past life was squared away, Stephen, who had spent the past twenty-eight hours awake in some combination of scamming, packing up and traveling, tossed his shirt and pants carelessly on the floor and climbed into his bed.

Stephen woke up the next morning, groping around his nightstand for the cell phone he purchased the night before. The screen read 11:08, so Stephen groaned and looked out the window to make sure the sun was out. It would not have been a uncharacteristic of him to sleep into the night on his first day in a new city.

It was going to be a low-key day if possible, so Stephen pulled open two drawers, tossing on a comfortable shirt and jeans. He laced up his shoes and grabbed a hoodie before entering into the big city.

Despite his rather lazy awakening, Stephen was having trouble finding the will to keep his eyes open. He bought a newspaper from a stand he passed and scanned around for a coffee shop he could sit and read it in. It was an inconspicuous activity that would let him blend in, with the added bonus of enjoying the lifeblood of a successful conman: coffee.

It did not take long to find a coffee shop in New York City, and sure enough, Stephen found what appeared to be an innocent enough coffee shop, as well as a bookstore. With a newspaper under his arm and a wallet with cash and no cards, spare a fake license, Stephen walked through the revolving doors of The Full Circle.

The Full Circle turned out to be a good choice; very much Stephen's style. It was a far cry from Starbucks, (a good thing in Stephen's opinion,) and it won a fair share of points with it's aisles of books. This could become a shop his persona would frequent. Well, as "frequent" as he could without making his face too known by the staff and regulars. He ordered a regular coffee, black with two sugars and he found a place to sit near a window, (not facing it,) and opened his newspaper.

For some reason, since things had started going odd with her powers, Kealey hadn’t wanted to stay by herself in the apartment. She was antsy, and still having lingering headaches that didn’t go away with the mild pain relievers that people usually kept on hand. There hadn’t been any repeat incidents, but that didn’t stop her from worrying about the fact that there could be. A lot.

Kealey couldn’t help but wonder if Shin was afraid too. What had happened hadn’t been easy. She needed to move on, though, and the best way to move on was to get her mind off things. The best way to get her mind off things was to stay out of the apartment when she was by herself. That’s why she was at the Full Circle. To get her mind off things that she didn’t need to be worrying about and maybe get some advice.

Shin wasn’t working at the Full Circle today, and neither was Aurum, but somehow the place still seemed homier more bustling than anywhere else. The emotions there were almost always calm and comfortable and Ghost was always willing to lend an ear. Sometimes Kealey was even able to return the favor. That was really why she was here, to talk, but the Full Circle was still a place of business and Ghost had been busy when Kealey arrived, so the blond was helping…sort of.

The box of books that Kealey was carrying wasn’t heavy, but it was a little awkward and as she made her way through the store and as she approached the shelves, she felt the undeniable movement that meant the bottom of the box was getting ready to tear. The blond hastened her steps, but to no avail. As she passed a table near the window, with a man reading a newspaper in residence, the bottom gave way and a rain of books fell to the shops floor.

”Oh no.” Kealey groaned, hoping she hadn’t spoiled any of the shop’s books.

Stephen took his normal route through the newspaper while taking periodic sips from his coffee. He began with a look through the sports section, promptly cursed mentally as his eyes spotted another Pirates loss. Once his sports thirst was sated, he moved back to the front page news. Two different articles regarding mutants and the question of mutant rights. A curious flip to the police logs revealed several crimes blamed on mutants, some believable and some almost certainly originating from human paranoia.

Stephen's opinion on the whole situation was complicated. He thought it was a terrible example of bigotry and prejudice based on unfounded fear. Mutants were human, whether normal people liked it or not, and you don't treat sentient, free-thinking lifeforms like animals. Still, Stephen could never really afford to be vocal one way or the other on the subject; being a mutant sympathizer garners almost as much unfriendly attention as being a mutant. Avoiding attention was always Stephen's highest priority. It also did not help that Stephen was the prime example of why humans distrusted mutants: a mutant with an exploitable mutation who uses his talents for personal gain. It was probably best for mutantkind if he kept out of sight entirely.

Stephen's private little universe was shattered when he heard the pounding of several books hitting the floor near him. He jumped slightly, figuring it was the appropriate reaction to being caught off guard, despite being well past having small events like this startling him.

Figuring there was no harm in helping the girl frantically picking up books next to him, Stephen put down his paper and crouched down, picking up the nearest books. "Rough day on the job, hun?" As soon as the last word left his lips, he realized he was careless and did not change his accent. Since he was committed to consistency, this now meant he would be spending his time in New York with his native southern accent. He fought the urge to roll his eyes in annoyance at himself; in truth, there was little harm in it. Plenty of people have southern accents. As long as he remained inconspicuous, it should not lead to any harm, especially when spoken to a harmless coffee shop girl.

A voice startled Kealey and she looked up into the face of the man who’d been reading the newspaper. Her cheeks pinked slightly with embarrassment and she nodded her head, ”I don’t exactly work here…” she explained, picking up and stacking books. The man was good-looking, and Kealey appreciated the help as he snagged a couple of books from the floor. He didn’t seem bothered, and a cursory glance at his emotions showed the same…but there was something odd there. A mild sense of exasperation maybe? No matter, it was directed inwardly and none of Kealey’s business so she let it pass.

”I’m waiting for a friend who also happens to own this place. I thought I’d make myself useful…” she said, accent light on her words as she chastised herself. ” We can see how well that worked out. I’m Kealey, by the way. Thank you for your help, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

The girl's story was humorous, Stephen had to admit. Even if she was not the Coffee Shop girl he originally thought, she seemed like a sweet, innocent enough gal, and her presence was certainly more interesting than a newspaper.

"Good intentions are worth a few dropped books. Besides, having a girl like you walking around must keep the clientele happy," he joked, adding a harmless wink.

Shifting the books he had collected into his left arm, he outstretched his right to offer a handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you! It's Nathan, but most just call me Nate. I actually just got into the city last night, so you could certainly call me a new face." He was smiling, but in truth, he did not really have to fake it. Using a new alias for the first time was always a bit of a rush, like a conman's high for Stephen.

The gentleman was a smooth talker, Kealey realized as he pointed out that having her around probably kept the customers happy. A compliment to which Kealey simply chuckled and shook her head, ”I know my boyfriend is happy when he’s working a shift and I stop in.”

A hand was offered, and a hand was taken. The man’s name was Nathan…Nate, and he was new to New York. That was something Kealey could definitely empathize with on a deeper than emotional level and she smiled, ”It’s nice to meet you Nate.” she said, noting that again something seemed strange about his emotional signature. His bubble was generally excited, but it was a different kind of excitement than normal…something Kealey couldn’t put a name on. It put her just the tiniest bit on edge, and she shook it off. Nate had been nothing but nice so far.

”Are you visiting or is the trip permanent? I remember when I’d first moved here a few years ago. The city is hard to learn at first…but it has a real way of growing on a person.” Setting the books down in a stack, Kealey went to work on tucking the flaps of the box in so that the thing would stay closed long enough for her to make it to the shelf. She needed to do something useful.

It was not hard for Stephen to notice that the girl was intentionally slipping her boyfriend into conversation after he had tried flirting with her. He was not bothered at all about it really; she was gorgeous, but far too sweet to try and seduce in good conscience. After safely putting down his stack of books to straighten out, he laughed. "I get it, I get it. I'll keep any flirty little remarks to myself. Besides, noon isn't normally my time of the day in terms of charming pretty girls." He placed his neat book stack in her newly fixed box. "It's my 'waking up with coffee' time." Well, if that doesn't make me sound lazy...

"I'm not visiting, but I would not say anything is permanent. I might not look it, but I'm an artist, so I'm afforded the right to move around a bit." Almost done with his second stack of books, he stood up to straighten it out on the table, so he could sneak a sip of his coffee before it got cold. "I've heard a lot about New York, so I thought I'd make a point to spend some time here. You've been here a few years though, what can you tell me? Have I made a good choice or should I get out while I still can?" he joked.

Stephen had to be careful; she might just be a kind stranger, but he was offering up a bit more of his story than he probably should for a chance encounter like this. It felt a bit amateur of him after so many years. He could not shake the vibe that she understood him, possibly a bit more than he would like.

Kealey had to smile at the tone in Nate’s voice as he gave up the chase. There hadn’t been anything wrong with what he’d done, but sometimes it was better just to lay things out where they could be seen in the open. There was less confusion that way. “Well, I’m sure if it had been eight o’clock at night I’d have been powerless to resist your charm.” Kealey said with mild exaggeration, her tone friendly and teasing to show that there were no hard feelings.

As to New York, “The city is amazing, and I don’t think I’d ever want to live anywhere else. Sometimes it can be overwhelming, because there are so many people, but I love it here. So much.”

What Kealey said was true, and she was sure her words dripped with sincerity. Nate had said he was an artist, ”I’m something of an artist myself. What medium do you use? I’m in fashion.”

Stephen was rather pleased to see the girl had some wit to her name; it reaffirmed his assumption that this shop attracted the right kind of clientele. Grinning, he replied, "Naw, I doubt it. A rogue's charms are no good for sweet girls who spend their free time helping in coffee shop they don't work at." He bent down to pick up the last few books. "Well, trying to help," he added teasingly.

"Fashion, huh? The one medium I probably know the least about, as you could probably guess." He certainly dressed for his argument, with his oldest hoodie and ratty high tops. "I mostly work on oil paintings on commission. It helps me get by." Fun fact: forgery and commission works share enough similarities to make this a common and easy to use lie. The more you know.

"So, I have to admit, the atmosphere of this place is winning me over. It just feels like... well, how I'd expect a little coffee shop in the city to feel like." Placing the last books in the box, Stephen grabbed his coffee and took a sip. "I realize that sounds silly and obvious, but it's just different than anything we had down south." In truth, it was a bit of an exaggeration on his part since he had spent time in Pittsburg, Detroit and Boston, but there certainly was something unique about The Full Circle, even if he could not place his finger on it.

Kealey had to shake her head and chuckle. It looked like New York had gained yet another charmer. It was a good thing for the girls who hadn’t found the right guy yet. ”Well, I’m sure you’ll find the right kind of girl for them soon enough. That is definitely one thing New York has in abundance. People.” It had been a trial at first, learning how to deal with all of them, but now Kealey liked the bustle and movement.

The books were picked up now, but Kealey didn’t see any reason to hurry the end of the conversation. Ghost wouldn’t mind, and Kealey had nowhere else to be until later, so when Nate pointed out how much he liked the Full Circle, the blond grinned.

”I know exactly what you mean. I was having the worst week of my life when I wandered past this place. There was a giant blue badger waving at me from the window, and I just had to come in.” Kealey mused over that for a moment and laughed, ”It’s funny how the smallest things can change your life, isn’t it?”

”It’s funny how the smallest things can change your life, isn’t it?” The comment brought Stephen back to the night he made one careless mistake at the orphanage. Had he not been outed as a mutant, how much longer would he have stayed there? Would he still have chosen his career path? Well, he was on his way before he even left, but he could have always ended up going the way of most legal criminals and became a lawyer or a politician. "Ain't that the truth. If it weren't for little moments, I might've never left North Carolina." And another rookie mistake: revealing an actual place of origin.

In an attempt to change the topic, he spotted the newspaper he left on the tabletop, with an anti-mutant cover article. "Not that much changes. North or South, the intolerance is the same brand these days, huh?" Stephen did not see any harm in giving an opinion; pro-mutant sentiment was a small, but not uncommon movement, even in the non-mutant society. The worst case scenario would be finding out Kealey was a mutant hater, (which would completely clash with everything her personality suggested,) who would then call him a mutant sympathizer and he would have to find a new coffee shop.

At Nate’s mention of intolerance, Kealey simply shrugged her shoulders. ”Things aren’t so bad here.” she explained. ” The X-Men work so closely with the police, that people are starting to get the right idea.”

Another shrug, ” There are always extremists, but they exist on both sides. I’ve met as many nasty mutants as I have nasty people, and everyone in between.”

It was a simple matter for Kealey, as such things usually were. It was easy to live in a world of black and white with just a few gray areas to deal with on a daily basis.

As to North Carolina, ”I’ve never been to the southern states. Is it very pretty there?”

"I suppose you're probably right." Stephen shrugged, picking up the paper to skim the article. Apparently there was a mutant running for a local office in a small town, and of course, there was a debate as to a mutant's place in politics.

"To be honest, in my travels, it's been way more common to meet human extremists than mutants of any kind. I guess I've just always thought it unfair that mutants have to be so private." It was an experience close to Stephen; a life spent silently keeping a secret, in a world where everyone with the same secret is hiding it as well. Honestly, how are mutants ever supposed to find one another in a society like that?

"The South? Well, the cities are kinda like cities up here, I suppose. There is way more green though. It's not as... well, hectic, I guess. It's a bit more peaceful really. It's when you get out of the city you really find the beautiful south." Stephen's did not live the life of a typical teenager, so it was not often that he was able to get nostalgic, but it was not as though his life lacked some nice, normal experiences. "Four-wheeling in the woods, pickups along the lake shore, and nights in truck-beds staring into the starriest night you've ever seen..." He could not help but grin dreamily. He never stayed in one place long, but the time he did spend returning to the South was worth every second.

Realizing he was getting lost in his own thoughts, he returned to Earth. "So, with a voice like that, I'm guessing you're hailing from the Emerald Isles? Mind if I ask why you'd leave a gorgeous island like that?" There may have been six months when "Dylan Aubin" traveled through Ireland to avoid some hometown heat.

”We’re not very secretive around these parts.” Kealey said with a grin, ”The Full Circle is everyone friendly.”

The smile faded slightly, ”As to mutant extremists, it’s obvious you’re new to New York. There are just as many of those here as human extremists, and they’re far more dangerous.” Kealey had yet to encounter one of the cities famed villains, but she was sure that eventually the X’s would run into one. She’d heard stories, and they still made her shudder a bit.

But they were moving on in the conversation now, and Kealey nodded her head in confirmation of Nate’s suspicions. ”A person would leave, because there was nothing there for them.” she explained with a neutral smile on her face.

”I wanted to make a difference somewhere. So here I am.”


North Carolina sounded lovely, ”I do miss the green sometimes, living in a concrete jungle. There are places you can go though, and almost forget about the skyscrapers.” Like the Mansion… she thought, but left the words unsaid.

It was a bit surprising to realize that Stephen's shot in the dark would lead him to a mutant-friendly shop so soon in his trip. It was not exactly an ideal choice for someone wanting to be "inconspicuous," but it was not as though the clientele was exclusively mutant. Besides... even if he was a closet mutant, there was something nice about being in a place where he would be accepted. "So this is a mutant hang-out? Well, I guess this might be a fun place to hang around if I want to see what New York's really about." He couldn't remember many "mutant-friendly" places in Detroit or Pittsburgh.

"Nothing left there, huh?" Stephen looked into his coffee, grinning. "Well, I'd appreciate that more than most. As for making a difference, I guess I'm just content with making my own path." He laughed, taking the last sip of his coffee. "I thank God for people like you making up for people like me. Still... a place away from the skyscrapers might be nice. I might ask about whatever secret oasis you know about some day," he said with a smile. Kealey seemed like a genuinely nice person, and it might pay dividends to know one or two of those in the mean city.