Overcast rolled into town on her motorcycle. It putted and spat a bit as she brought it to a halt with just over half a tank of gas left in it. She could go further, but this was where she wanted to be right now. New York City was the center of the mutant activities in the U.S., for what reason she didn't know, but it was, and now she was here.
It was night, the city was lit up. People walked all over the sidewalks, cluttering the packed city. She glanced around. How many of these people were mutants? Was she looking at any right now? Were people looking at her? She didn't care much for the answers to any of these questions. Right now she was hungry, having not eaten for almost twelve hours.
She parked her bike in a parallel parking space in front of a small restaurant. Leaning it gently on the kickstand and setting her helmet down on the seat, she proceeded to cross the sidewalk and enter the small restaurant.

Coffee, Thorn typically hated it, but this morning, she had an odd craving for it. She paid no attention to the time of day and did not mind if she was going to be up for a while, she just wanted something that would give her energy and was not alcoholic since she had a little too much and was taking a very short break away from it. How long would this break last? Probably less than 12 hours.

As she sipped her coffee, taking it black since she was not used to sweet tasting things, she was carving things into the table using a thorn that she had extracted on her finger. Not minding if anyone was to give her lip about the new carvings on the table. They did not say very much, as a matter of fact, if you could read what she had written, she would offer you a drink because she couldn't read it even though she knew what it said.

All she cared about was that she was carving and passing the time. What it said, however, was "Life is like cheap vodka, tastes like shit at first then makes you feel fantastic, until you've had your share and you crash into a worthless no one." Yes, it was long, no it did not make sense, but she had made it up on the spot and did not give a whoot what it meant. When the other girl entered, she looked up for a brief moment before extracting claws her hand, just to see how many she could force to cover her hand. Quite a few...

Overcast did a doubletake, while she didn't drop her cool, uncaring exterior, inside she was going over it: had or had not that girl just caused several points to come up from the skin of her hand? The more she thought of it in that moment, the surer she was that she wasn't seeing things.

She walked over to the girl, casually looking over her shoulder as the latter was scratching at the tabletop. "Life is like cheap vodka," she read aloud in a quiet murmur. "Interesting."

Thorn stopped etching into the table and kept her eyes fixated on the words before a smirk formed across her lips. Slowly, she turned her neck so that her eyes now looked at this girl that approached her. Interesting, blue hair. Was it blue because she dyed it that way or was it blue for another reason? She did not bother investigating further as she found herself speaking.

"Suprised you can read this, just looks like etch marks to me and I friggin' wrote it." She chuckled. The feeling washed upon her and she wanted a shot of vodka suddenly, but she repressed the thought and focused on this girl and her coffee, oh, and of course her thorns. The thorns retreated back under her skin. Was it alright to talk with this girl? Was she trouble or a goodie-goodie? One cannot know by a mere glance at her, so she made the presumption that she was neither and just an average girl that wasn't quite so average.

Overcast saw the little spikes retreat back into the girl's hand. If she had been someone else she might've jumped, but she wasn't someone else, she was hardened by a life of unpredictablity, and she found that her ability to catch a fright was gone. In place of the jump, a slow, half-smile crossed her face.

She took the liberty of seating herself next to the girl, then pulled aside a waiter and asked for an iced java, which she received after a few short moments. She took a swig of the stuff, choked it down, and managed a rueful grin.

"I hate coffee," she explained. "Wretched stuff." She gave the girl a quick onceover, then returned focus to her drink. "As for the 'etch marks', I'm fluent in chicken scratches." A short laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head, taking another swig of the volatile, cold liquid.

Her smirk stayed painted on her face as the girl mentioned her distaste for coffee. "I never liked it much either, but right now, I suppose it's the closest thing to a rush I can feel without my alcohol." With that, she thought about her flask of vodka and reached for it before pausing. Should she really just have some? Oh well, what harm?

So she poured some into her coffee and placed it back before she took another sip, this time with a smile. "Now that is so much better. Are you a frequent visitor or are you not even familiar with this city?" She asked before taking another sip, waiting for the alcohol to warm her insides up.

Overcast watched with a slight curiosity as the girl took out a flask and poured something like water into her coffee. It must have been vodka, Overcast knew her alcohols, she didn't drink much, but she knew enough to tell things apart.

"Frequent visitor?" she repeated. "No, this is my first time actually being here. But I have read a lot about it, heard a lot about it, the usual, center for - erm - movements." She paused a moment, allowing her eyes to shift back to the girl before averting them once more to the gross fluid-in-a-cup in front of her. "I have a friend somewhere around here, I haven't heard from her in a long time, but I figured it might be interesting to seehow she's managing."

Thorn looked up at the girl with a raised eyebrow. "Movements?" She asked with a great tone of curiousity. "What kind of movements?" Of course, all movements need more people and since she was a part of such a movement, this girl, if she was the right kind of mutant (assuming she was due to her hair color), she would be welcome at the Sanctuary.

"Well, do you have anywhere to stay?" She asked before resisting the temptation to pull out a cigarette. She did not smoke inside, she left the building to get out her temptation, unless she didn't like the place, in which case, she would smoke her cigarette freely and blow the smoke at passer-by's until she was kicked out, or at least security attempted to kick her out.

Overcast shrugged. "No, I really came out here rather spontaneously," she said. "I just knew that my friend was here, so I figured if I could find her, maybe I could start up again. But until I find her, well, I haven't really given that much thought. So yeah, I guess I could use a place to stay, if that's what you're implying."

Overcast knew she might be overstepping her bounds a wee bit, but she was bold, she couldn't help it.

"Well, there is a new place known as The Sanctuary. That is where I am currently living, and I enjoy it. It is like a large hotel. Of course, if you would rather stay at a hotel..." She shrugged before reaching for a cigarette. She stopped herself again, but this time, only stopped herself from putting it in her mouth. She placed it on the table and began to tap it softly over the carvings.

"So, what kind of movements were you looking for? Sorry, I did not catch that. Are you a peace movement kind of person, a war movement kind of person, or the one that just goes to a movement in order to claim they were in one?" Now she could truely see whether this girl was a mutant or not.

Overcast thought and she thought hard, there were some things that you could say that would get you into trouble, and there were some thing that could be said that only certain people would understand, which could still get you into trouble - depending on the person. She took a long, disgusting sip of her drink, finishing about half of it in one great inhalation of fluid. When she at last managed to swallow the whole of it and disperse the taste a bit in her mouth so that it wasn't quite so bad, she had her reply.

"Movements are for the people who have the strength to commit, I've learned that from leading a small campus one in Colorado, not too long ago. And as to the kind of movement I am looking for, well, I was thinking about something that promotes, how shall I put it, a new and - different - culture." She let her words hang in the air, liking how she had put it, surely if this girl was a mutant and offering her some hand in a mutant underground of sorts, the message would be clear as to her own desire to be at the forefront of such a thing. And that is what she wanted.

The campus program she'd led in Colorado, and how it ended, gave her rather strong feelings on mutant supremacy, that it was too long they had been allowing plain humans to put them down and lock them up like they were freaks. Really she knew they were just afraid, because they could sense that their time was coming to an end, that the coming of mutants in the evolutionary chain meant that they would soon be out of the picture.

She took another, quick sip of her drink before looking up at the girl to see her response.

Thorn raised an eyebrow at the broad term 'different'. Now that Thorn knew that she did not agree with how society was at the time and wished for a change, she was sure that the girl was a mutant. The drunkard's personality flaw was that she never feared the consequences of anything, for she felt that she was ready for whatever the result came to be. So, by nature, she was completely fine with sharing her evil intentions with this girl.

Now, of course, do not be fooled, for Thorn was not one to speak of her mission or what the Sanctuary truely was until she knew for certain that the girl involved herself in the same evil intentions as Thorn herself was currently involved in. Even then, she would not reveal information about the mission for that was Oppressor's decision and not her own.

"I don't know about you, but I get involved in mutant revolts. I have no problem using violence to get my point across and I, as you can tell, have no problem sharing this tid-bit of information with a complete stranger, which happens to be you. Are these the kind of movements you endulge yourself in? For if so, I may be able to help you find such a place, however, if not, then we have no business talking and you are to take heed and leave me be. Yet, by your different hair color and the air I am getting from you, I concluded that you might have the same feelings as me, but I have been known to be wrong from time to time." She finished at that and allowed the girl to reply to her forwardness.

Overcast barely hid a surprised 'laugh', if you could call it that, at the girl's forwardness. She was so surprised that the girl would share that openly, she forced herself to take another drink before answering so that she didn't say anything too obscene. When she had choked down the volatile drink she allowed a smirk of a half-smile to work its way across her lips.

"Sounds," she said, trying to think of a word, she formed a bullet and shot it through a nearby lightbulb, causing it to explode, as lightbulbs so often do when that happens to them. "...interesting," she finished. She ignored the slight chaos that had erupted at the sudden explosion of the lightbulb - one of the counter-workers was rushing around, cleaning up the glass, while another went searching for a replacement bulb, still others were attempting to figure out how it had exploded in the first place.
Instead, she picked up a lock of her hair gingerly, looking at it closely. "What color is my hair?" she asked in a rather naive voice, that half-smile still on her lips.

The woman raised an eyebrow at the sound of an explosion. She turned her head just enough to see the chaos of employees scurrying around to clean the mess before she smirked. She turned back to Overcast, maintaining her smirk.

"I can see that your power is quite 'interesting'." With that, she realized that she had refrained from introducing herself for fear of giving away the wrong information to the wrong girl. "My the way, I am Pru, Roxanne, or as I have been titled; Thorn. Whichever you refer to me as, I do not care, however, I am more used to hearing my name as Thorn and thus I will probably respond better to my title. What am I to call you?" She asked before she extended her thorns and etched a period after her 'chicken scratches'.

Overcast smiled, this was going exactly the way she would have wanted it to go, had she known this was coming.

"How very nice to meet you, Thorn," Overcast replied. How fitting, she thought to herself. "I'm Overcast, you can call me - Overcast," she said with a shrug. She didn't go by her given name anymore, it was dead to her, no one needed to know what it was.