Today just had to be a slow day. Lizzy hated slow days when she was playing in the subway. She stood in her usual spot with her guitar case opened in front of her and played. A few people were nice enough to donate some money, but the common passerby simply dismissed Lizzy’s existence. She was used to it though. After a few years playing here, it was common, but today was even worse than usual. It had been maybe four hours and Lizzy hadn’t even made twenty bucks yet.

Oh well, Lizzy thought, Maybe I’ll just call it quits early today. She didn’t really want to, but maybe it would be best for her to try another part of the city or just go fool around in Central Park again. Whatever she decided to do, Lizzy decided upon one last song. She began to play Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours”. It was a nice mellow song and it calmed Lizzy down. She remembered why she was there in the subway in the first place. She loved music and this gave her the ability to showcase her musical talent while helping out her family at the same time.

As Lizzy sang, a man walked by and stopped in front of Lizzy for a couple seconds. He pulled out a five-dollar bill from his wallet and dropped it in the guitar case that sat at Lizzy’s feet. To show her appreciation for the stranger, Lizzy nodded her head toward the kind man. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems, Lizzy thought. Just maybe it wouldn’t be a waste of a day like she assumed.

Today, Gemma and Chase were taking the subway, just to shake things up. Chase had never been on a subway, which had somehow arisen in a conversation between Chase, Gemma and Jorge. Apparently, riding the subway was one of many necessary experiences for a native New Yorker, and it was something that Chase simply had to experience. Thus, they made their way through crowded hallways, purchased their tickets, and then descended deeper into the underground beneath the streets. Chase remained fastened to Gemma’s hand, for most of the way, his baseball cap pressed low over his eyes to hide his unshifted form from view.

The child kept his head tilted down, keeping to his mother’s side. As they walked, Chase spied a woman who was propped against a wall, strumming lightly at her guitar and singing.

“We’ll catch the train here,” Gemma announced, squeezing Chase’s hand. They were within eyeshot of the girl with the guitar, but the clamor of the subway made it hard to hear her singing.

“Momma, how long until our train arrives?” Chase inquired lightly.

“Twenty minutes,” Gemma replied, “How come?”

“Can I go listen to the lady with the guitar?” Chase begged, “Please? Can I, Momma?”

“Sure,” Gemma agreed, “Just stay where I can see you, okay?”

“Okay, Momma,” Chase agreed, releasing his mother’s hand. As he left her Adapted field, his guise snapped into place—the little shapeshifter once again assumed the blond-haired, blue-eyed equivalent of his appearance once more. Chase jogged over to the guitarist, beside whom was a bench, and he perched upon the bench, watching as a man walked by and gave her a five-dollar-bill.

“I wish people gave me money randomly like that,” Chase confessed aloud, though not directly addressing the young woman. He was a naïve sort, didn’t know that people were paying her to play her music. He thought that the lady was just playing her guitar, and had accidentally left the case open. And the grown-ups, being the silly grown-ups that they were, were tossing money into her open guitar case. Grown-ups were so silly.

After the kind man dropped the money into the case, Lizzy noticed a small boy with blonde hair on the bench next to her. He couldn’t be more than ten, but she was never sure about people’s age. His mother must be in the vicinity. Lizzy couldn’t imagine her own mother letting her take the subway by herself at such a young age. Then again, Lizzy still had trouble accepting her mother’s willingness to Lizzy playing down in the subways.

The boy wished aloud that he got money randomly like Lizzy did. She couldn’t suppress the smile and light chuckle that came so naturally at the comment. She continued to play her guitar as she turned to him and said, “Well, maybe if you pick up an instrument, you can play for your own money one day.”

Her voice was a little tired from singing so much today, so Lizzy didn’t start another song like should usually would. She began to play a bit of instrumental music for a little bit before stopping in order to take a drink of water. "Ah that's the spot." The cool water rolling down her throat was glorious. Taking water with her was the best thing she could do because it was hard work singing for several hours straight. Besides it allowed her finger to rest for a minute before Lizzy began to strum again.

Chase inclined his head as the girl laughed and answered him frankly. Maybe if he picked up on an instrument, someone would pay to hear him play it, one day. She went on strumming the guitar for a while, and finally stopped to take a sip of water. Chase was going to stop and listen to her play, but since she wasn’t playing anymore, at the moment, he’d feel no guilt in bothering her with questions.

“How long have you played guitar?” Chase inquired cautiously.

Whether or not the girl answered was up to her, but Chase would hurl another question at her, regardless.

“How old is your guitar?”

As he sat there, perched upon the bench, question boiled up within him, begging to be spoken, and Chase wasn’t about to make any attempt to silence them. Besides, she was talking to him, he had fifteen minutes to kill, and all that Gemma was doing was standing there, her gaze frequently drifting towards her son to make sure he hadn’t strayed too far.

Lizzy drank her water as the boy asked her about how long she was playing. Before she could swallow her drink and respond, he asked her another question. She leaned against the wall before responding. Lizzy had a feeling that he had more than two questions. ”Slow down there and I can answer your questions. I’ve been playing for as long as I can remember. My dad taught guitar when I was really young while my mom taught me piano. As to your second question, Wilson here was a birthday gift when I turned fourteen, and he’s been with me ever since.”

Sliding her hand across her dear guitar friend, Lizzy was reminded of all the good and bad times the two of them shared. When her parents gave Lizzy her own guitar for her birthday, she was ecstatic. Previously, she played on one of her dad’s old guitars, but Wilson became her own.

It was comfortable leaning against the wall of the subway. Maybe not the cleanest place around, but Lizzy didn’t really care. She glanced at the boy again and asked him, “What about you? Do you play any instrument?” She doubted that he played, but Lizzy didn’t mind continuing conversation. She was typically up for it.

The lady cautioned Chase to slow down on the questions, and Chase just smiled faintly, his expression a touch impish. The lady was answering his questions! Success!

“Your guitar’s name is Wilson? Why?” Chase inquired, tilting his head at the guitar. Grown-ups were so silly—why on Earth would they name a guitar.

>> “What about you? Do you play any instrument?”

“I could,” Chase said vaguely, much to distracted by asking questions of the girl before him to answer any about himself. While the reply would be considered petulant for a normal, human child, Chase’s answer was quite frank. He could play any instrument if he shapeshifted into someone who could play an instrument. But, he left that part out of his explanation, and carried on with his impromptu interview.

“How long can you remember? How old are you?” Chase inquired. Though these were stereotypically impolite questions, in Chase’s logical mind, they were very petinent to the answers that he was being given—her fourteenth birthday could have been five years ago, or ten, or twenty-five years ago. And she could only remember that far, or maybe she could remember all the way back to the day she was born. These were very relevant questions that simply had to be asked.

Yep. Lizzy was right on the money he had more than two questions. She took a deep breath and told him, “My guitar is named Wilson after a character in a movie called Cast Away.” Somehow Lizzy had a feeling that there would be a follow-up question to that so she added, “If you don’t know what movie that is, I bet your mother would be willing to tell you.”

>> “How long can you remember? How old are you?”

Sometimes Lizzy was really glad she didn’t have any younger siblings. There would always be those questions that were a little invasive and personal to answer. This was one of those times. Lizzy wasn’t exactly sure how to answer him. While thinking Lizzy absentmindedly ran her hand through her thick blonde locks. It wasn’t a big deal really, but there was a thought that if she answered the boy, the questions would only get worse. But he seemed like such a sweet boy. Lizzy caved in telling the boy, “Well I’m not sure how long I can remember, but I’m twenty years old.”

Lizzy put her water back down beside her guitar case and began to strum away on her guitar. The boy seemed sweet and acted just like a kid should act: curious about everything. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but maybe, just maybe, if Lizzy began to play her guitar again, she could get away from answering anything too personal without hurting the young boy’s feelings.

Chase's next question was hastily stopped-- he'd never heard of Cast Away. He was a nine-year-old, and beyond which, had been essentially living in a hole up until he went to live with Gemma. He didn't know any movies beyond those that came out during his short lifetime. And even then, there were some movies he didn't know.

"But if I wait to ask my mom, I'll forget by then," Chase pointed out with a faint huff. The girl went on to answer the other questions, confessing that she wasn't sure how far she could remember, but she was twenty-years-old. The girl tucked her water away and began to strum, at which Chase merely lingered nearby, not moving as the gears turned in his little head. He seemed to be connecting the dots-- then, something dawned on him.

"Does that mean you don't know how long you've been playing the guitar?" Chase gasped. It was a piece of flawless juvenile logic-- she'd played guitar for as long as she could remember, but didn't no how long she could actually remember... which meant that she didn't know how long she'd been playing the guitar. How horrible.

"That's probably a really important something to remember," Chase informed the young woman, his voice dropping into serious tones, "You should think about how far back you remember, just in-case someone important asks you. That'd be really embarrassing if the President asked you how long you've played guitar, and you didn't know, don't'cha think?"

Chase's curiosity made him more bold. If the lady hadn't piqued his interest, the child probably would have ignored her-- he was a shy kid, usually, but when faced with something peculiar, his inner inquisitive tendencies were externalized. In some situations, it was good, but the newly-acquired audacity probably came much to the chagrin of the young woman.

Well it was worth a shot. Lizzy didn’t mind answering questions, but this was starting to get on her nerves. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath so she wouldn’t lash out at the young boy. However, he went on and mentioned about what if the President asked her about her guitar and how it’d be terrible if she didn’t know the answer. That small little detail did it for her.

Her eyes opened and her anger got the best of her. This boy was not going to stop. She realized that now. Her anger boiled over and she lashed out, “Well you know what? I will probably never meet the President so I won’t have to worry about that.” In an attempt to scare him off, she mimicked his voice saying, ”Now how about you run off and leave me to play my guitar?”

She felt a little bad about lashing out at him, but she just couldn’t take it anymore. The boy was never going to stop, and it was beginning to annoy Lizzy. Within her was a slight temper. It didn’t come out much, but when it did there was not stopping it. Lizzy was almost at the point of no return. The regret she felt dealing with this young kid helped her resist the full-blown anger, but the mimicking would scare him off… hopefully. It wasn’t something that people would be accustomed to, and even though she was outing her special ability, it was worth it at this point in time.

The display of power did cause Chase to pause, and he recoiled at an instant, his eyes widening. Did she just…? No… That girl had sounded just like him. Chase did seem thoroughly alarmed, and he started to make a quick retreat, getting out of the girl’s face. Her voice reverted to normal as she told Chase to run along and leave her be, and Chase just stared, his eyes still wide. It was weird to be on the receiving-end of someone mimicking your voice.

But, rather than scampering away, Chase answered back with his own show of power. A mischievous flicker of burnt orange and red overwhelmed his eyes, as the guitarist’s voice answered from his own mouth.

“Just your luck, you will meet the President!” Chase retorted in the guitarist’s voice, “And won’t you look silly when you tell him you don’t remember.”

All full of childish indignation, and with a streak of impish delight, the shapeshifter hopped off of the bench and turned his attention towards the crowd, looking rather smug. But his face fell when he realized that the crowd had grown. The train would be there soon, and he couldn’t see his Mama anywhere. But, he couldn’t very well stay with the guitarist, not after he’d been so impolite to her… yet there were so many people…

“Mama?” Chase hollered, his voice swallowed by the din of the subway. He still spoke in the borrowed voice of the guitarist, at which the human-shifter cleared his throat, and attempted again, this time with his own vocal chords. “Mo-o-o-om?”

The boy snapped back at Lizzy, but she was not expecting what came out of his mouth. The light strumming she was playing stopped when she heard her own voice out of his mouth. The mimicker was mimicked and it left Lizzy dumbfounded. Her thoughts raced as she tried to grasp onto what she just experienced. Apparently she just met a fellow mutant. She never expected to find one so young… or another mimicker.

Although she didn’t scare him off as she planned, the boy hopped off the bench he was sitting on. Lizzy assumed that his train would be here soon – it was a subway after all. She began to play Wilson again, but her eyes never left the mutant boy. It had become a little more crowded with the subway fast approaching, but another mimicker intrigued her.

She saw he began to look for his mom, and then call for her. Lizzy’s heart went out to him because she didn’t want him to be lost. His mom must be terrified if she can’t find her son. In her mind, she wrestled in her mind whether to go over and help him find her. He was a bit annoying to her, but she felt so bad that he couldn’t find his mom.

Lizzy quickly put her earnings in her pockets, put Wilson in the case, and walked over to the mutant boy. Slightly scared at how he would react to her, she asked him, “Do you want some help finding your mom?” Lizzy hoped that she could be of some assistance. It would be terrible if his mom got on the subway without her son. She didn’t want the boy to be lost, and would whatever she could to help the boy – even though he was a tad bit annoying – find his mom.

Chase was filled with childish pride, but when he realized that he was lost, the feeling of victory quickly left him. His brows furrowed, and his face fell in fear. Where was she, anyways?

“Mama!” Chase attempted to holler again. The guitarist came up behind her, and quietly inquired if Chase wanted help looking for his mother, and the child looked up bashfully. He shook his head, hesitantly at first, and then more enthusiastically.

“You’ll tell on me,” the child muttered crossly. He looked around, eyes perusing for his mother as if to dismiss the blond-haired woman. When he realized that he still couldn’t see her, he looked back up at Lizzy, biting his lip.

The boy was scared she’d tell on him. Lizzy was taken slightly aback by his accusation, but could see why he would say so. She wasn’t exactly a happy camper by the time he left, and he could still hold it against her. Besides, if she faced the honest truth, she used her powers before him anyway. And she used them in a rather crowded, public area – not the smartest thing. If anyone should be in any sort of trouble, it should be Lizzy not the boy. “I won’t tell her. I used my powers too, so I don’t think it’d be fair if I told your mama,” she whispered to the boy.

He continued to search for his mom, but still couldn’t find her. Lizzy looked around in the crowd to see if there was a lone woman who looked like she was searching for someone as well, but she couldn’t see anyone through the crowd that seemed to grow larger by the minute.

The boy looked extremely sad and worried when he looked back up at Lizzy after his searching was in vain as well. She asked him, “Now, think real hard. Do you remember what your mama was wearing today?” If she had some idea of what his mom looked like, it might help find her.

By this point, her anger had subsided against the boy because some instinct took hold of her. She wanted to help the boy find his mom because Lizzy knew that if the roles were reversed, she would want someone to do the same.

Chase stared at the blonde woman for a few heartbeats, color-changing eyes flickering with uncertainty.

>> “I won’t tell her. I used my powers too, so I don’t think it’d be fair if I told your mama.”

The child was reasonably skeptical—big kids always tattled on little kids that had given them too much grief. He wedged his hands into his pockets uncertainly, dropping his gaze. Her logic was sound, but he still didn’t believe her.

>> “Now, think real hard. Do you remember what your mama was wearing today?”

Chase scrunched his face contemplatively. What had his mommy been wearing?

“A pretty blouse,” Chase murmured, “A white-ish one. Nice black pants. Sunglasses.”

Yeah, that sounded like Gemma’s outfit. The child rolled his lips together, and after a moment of reflection, added on, “She doesn’t look like me. She has darker skin, and black hair.”

Just as a point of clarification. Gemma was, after all, Chase's adoptive Mommy.

Nice white blouse; black pants; sunglasses. Shouldn’t be too hard, Lizzy thought to herself. Her five-foot-ten stature tried to look through the crowd for any sign of some woman who fit the description. Lizzy was looking for a white woman, but luckily the boy mentioned that she had darker skin and black hair. She thought to herself that the boy must be adopted. He didn’t look half black, but that was her opinion. Who knows what the reality is?

The flood of people was crazy to try to pinpoint one person from it. White was such a common shirt color that it didn’t help the situation. Then, Lizzy spied a woman who could possibly fit the description the boy gave her. The woman had her back toward Lizzy and was wearing what looked to be a nice whitish shirt and some nice dark slacks. She couldn’t really tell if she had sunglasses or not. “Is that her way over there? By the column?” she asked the boy as she pointed to the general direction of the possible woman.