[[Note: This solo thread takes place in April 2011, Twyla has just arrived in California with a group of other mutants her age.]]

Everyone had wanted to go to the beach. Common sense told Twyla that the weather probably wasn’t warm enough yet for comfortable swimming but she’d rolled with the group’s frenzy. They’d headed straight for Malibu upon arriving in California. The excited feelings of finally reaching their destination had been contagious and Twyla found that she could finally lose herself to the craziness of the small young adult mutant tribe. Their numbers had shifted throughout the journey but stayed at a stable three guys-two girls from the day that they reached the state until they saw the first waves crashing across the sand.

As she looked out across the rolling blue grey expanse Twyla thought back on how she’d fell in with the motely band. Their whoops of joy caught her ears as she remembered being at the bus station ready to buy a ticket to Anywhere when she’d been approached by Lighter, the ‘leader’ of their little troupe. She’d been pretty upset and he’d seen her hurriedly shake the camouflage out of her legs and asked her where she was headed. She’d told him that she needed to get as far away as possible. He’d complimented the pink in her hair, smiled a crooked smile at her, and told her they were going to Cali. Twyla found out a moment later that he was a pyro-kinetic when he used his power to set off the fire alarms in the station. Later he’d told her that he’d set fire to the newspaper stand on a whim. That should have set off alarms in Twyla’s head but it didn’t—at the time she hadn’t been thinking remotely clearly and he’d offered her to ride with a couple of his friends all the way to the west coast. She’d gotten into the beater of a van with barely any questioning.

The other four mutants were splashing like small children in the waves. The group ranged in age from fourteen to twenty one. Lighter was the oldest and Flicker, his younger brother with skin that glowed in the dark, took up the rear of the age train. Lighter had ‘rescued’ Flicker from their parents. The idea had sat oddly with the nineteen year old but she’d been too concerned with fitting in with the group and internally combusting to really ask about their family history. Brown eyes watched them play as strange feelings sloshed like the waves before her in her stomach. This was what she wanted wasn’t it? She was about as far from New York as she could get without swimming across the Pacific Ocean and there was no one around telling her to be anything. On that chilly beach she wasn’t anything to anybody—not a college student, trainee, part-time worker, daughter, or lover. She just was. All the stress she’d let build up inside her started to melt into the sand. It was freeing but also emptying. A wind whipped through her light sweater and she shivered.

“C’mon, Wallflower!” Lighter called to her from down the beach, waving his hands wildly. He insisted that everyone call each other by something related to their powers. At first she’d thought it was stupid but now she responded to the name out of routine. In a distant way she supposed that the older man was cute—he had curly dark hair and tan skin and a runner’s build. It was the way he smiled that made her trust him; even though he was older he had the lopsided grin of a child. There was no way she was interested in his attractiveness but she did notice it. Twyla carefully removed her sneakers to heed his command out of habit. Everyone listened to Lighter and the ones that had problems with his authority were left in cities along the way. She had no reason not to listen to him and Twyla followed his instructions with a shrug usually. Ever since they’d left New York she’d been a robot running on autopilot, occasionally becoming sentient to contribute to the conversation before shutting her systems down again. This is what I want. She repeated this to herself over and over like a mantra. That simple sentence had lulled her to sleep at night like a lullaby. She was in control. It was what she wanted.

When she made it to where the group was still splashing she was greeted by a handful of cold water. It stung upon contact with the claves that rolling up her pants had made bare. Flicker ran off before she could retaliate; he looked like a smaller version of his brother. “So, is it everything you expected?” The older model stood next to her, surveying the view of the ocean and nearby boardwalk. There was a tint of content laughter to his voice. His good humor was another reason Twyla trusted him. He was charming, a fun figure. Turning to Lighter she replied: “I’ve never been this far west before and all that beach…” Brown eyes scanned the waterline.

“Hey—we’re going to scrounge up some food! Meet you at the van!” Another boy from the group called to the pair, leading the other girl and Flicker towards some promising looking stands on the boardwalk. “Wallflower, I need to tell you something.” Lighter’s face was all seriousness when he turned to her and looked into her face directly. “We’re running out of money.” The group had pooled resources to pay for gas and food along the cross country trip. It cost a lot to feed all five of them but they’d managed. In the back of her mind a bloom of worry blossomed. “We’re going to have to get some more soon.”

Something in his tone…a burning pile of paper…alarm bells…

“Maybe we could pick up odd jobs or something—get enough to get settled.” Twyla’s words were careful and slow. For the first time in a long time she took a long look at the twenty-something before her. There was something cagey in his eyes that prophesized his negative reaction. “We could try but…I doubt that’ll be enough.” Their conversation was cut short by Flicker returning; his face was smeared with ketchup from a street vendor hotdog and he was throwing another handful of water at the young woman.

Glancing nervously at his older brother, Twyla shot off after him down the beach. She tried her best to laugh off the strange feeling of dread that had settled in her stomach for the rest of that afternoon.

Later that afternoon the group was combing through a tiny grocery store trying to decide what to make for dinner. Eating at any sort of restaurant was out of the question at this point, at least that’s what Twyla suspected. As the five mutants browsed the shelves she kept glancing back at Lighter. After their conversation at the beach she’d avoided talking alone with him. For the first time since she’d met the older man she felt a bit nervous around him. Suddenly every move that he made was suspect. This suspicious attitude had been picked up by Flicker and the other girl in their group, Dot. They’d been trying to mediate between them all day, as if they thought Twyla was mad at their leader or something. The blonde did her best to act like she usually did…which was hard because their little trip had thus far been done in a haze. Twyla was starting to wake up and as she did so her role in the little band was becoming strained.

Dot grabbed a bag of pretzels and placed them in the shopping basket that Twyla carried. Her mutation manifested in large purple circles of hardened skin scattered across her body. In public she usually hid her mutation through the use of gloves and a hoodie. She was fifteen and Twyla realized now that there were much better places for kids so young…Her autopilot functions were malfunctioning. Soon she’d remember to worry about everyone…Brown eyes glanced quickly across Flicker and Dot’s backs. They really were too young to be away from real adult supervision. Lighter, the other boy, and Twyla were all over eighteen years old and she had no right to tell them where to be but the other two were just kids. Young kids. They deserved a chance at something better than living out of a van.

Stones filled Twyla’s stomach. There had to be a way to call someone…do something…

“GET OUT OF MY STORE, FREAKS.” The young woman was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of the store owner behind the counter screaming. Quickly she discovered the problem. The hood that Dot’s used to cover her face had slipped, revealing the purple spots of skin. She held a loaf of bread in one hand for a moment before she started to cry. It dropped to the floor. Instantly Twyla dropped her own basket and was at the girl’s side. “Hey, we’ve got money—we can be here!” Lighter’s words did nothing to help the situation. The other boy in their group stood behind Lighter, backing him up. “C’mon, Dot.” Twyla whispered at the younger girl, wrapping an arm around her comfortingly. As they headed for the door she snaked out and grabbed Flicker by the shirt before he could follow his brother’s antagonizing lead. “Guys, stay here.” She directed after they’d crossed the street. “I’ll be right back.”

Twyla’s instincts took over. This situation was gearing up to go very badly. She ran back into the store. Lighter held a ball of flame in his hands; the store owner held a gun pointed at the mutant men. She didn’t hesitate to put herself between the boys and the man behind the counter. Her hands came up as if to mediate the groups. “Lighter, put it out.” The look she gave him was scathing. There was something new and powerful in her gaze. The taller mutant glared back at her but lowered his hand a bit, not putting out the fireball but looking slightly less threatening. She then turned to the storeowner, trying her best to put a nice expression on her face. “I’m really sorry about this sir, we’ll be leaving now.” Her tone was calming and even. The man behind the counter obviously looked scared. He really didn’t want to hurt them, just a knee-jerk reaction. She’d encountered this kind of response before in New York and while she didn’t agree with the discrimination she understood where it was coming from. Giving this guy a real reason to hate mutants was not going to make the world a better place.

She turned back to her friends. They didn’t look very happy about her promise. Twyla bridged the gap between herself and Lighter and put her hand on the arm with the fireball. “Put it out.” She was shorter than he was so he had to look down at her; she stared up at him, unwavering. This was not the robot Twyla he’d met. The slightly disoriented but cute girl was gone, replaced by someone who was actually challenging him. Like an amnesiac having a flashback, Twyla was a flash of someone she’d tried to leave behind. He put the flames out and shoved past her, exiting the store with the other young man close behind him.

Lighter wouldn’t even look at her as they made their way back to the van. Once inside he punched the steering wheel, making the horn go off loudly. “Human supremist b*****d! He’ll get what’s coming to him—he would have sooner if someone hadn’t stepped in.” A glare was sent in the direction of Twyla. She could feel her standing with these kids rapidly dropping. Things were getting dangerous.

“If you would have gotten picked up by the cops for torching his store who would take care of Flicker?” She replied coolly from the backset, playing things from a brotherly love angle.

“Well…” Lighter’s anger began to simmer out. “We can still pay him back.” Twyla did not like the sound of the promise in those words.