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"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare either of you. I mean you no harm."
"I...I'm sorry. Don't be freaked out. I'm very sorry. You startled me. I didn't mean to be rude. I really didn't."
Susan turned her head, looking at the gargoyle and the girl with the Medusa hair. A smile tugged at her lips.
"So, we can all agree nobody wants to hurt anyone. Perfect." she announced, putting her flute away as she stood up from the bench and walked over to them.
"My music never had an effect quite this curious before" she added. True, she learned to play a flute because of the Pied Piper, but she never thought a simple tune would lure a gargoyle and a gorgon to her. She wondered if it was a coincidence. It probably was.
Looking at them again, her eyes turned back to crimson for a couple of seconds. No doubt. They both had the same aura she was starting to identify with the X gene. Of course, there was no proof. But based on her experiences so far, it made sense.
"I'm Henrrietta"
"My name is Susan" she answered politely, glancing at the gargoyle, wondering if he had a name too "And I am a mutant like you two. Obviously."

"It's an expression. It means until you are ready to be on your own in this savage world. Like you find your feet so you can stand up, I think, is the reasoning behind it."
Susan watched her feet as she walked beside Elli, hands deep in her pockets and scarf pulled up to her nose. To avoid attention. She blinked the colors away too. She'll need sunglasses. In winter.
She was wondering how to ask the question. It had to be subtle, politically correct and the least awkward possible. She was not good at any of these.
"Um..."
It was not easy. Dealing with synestesia messed up her perception of the world so bad she couldn't even think of an explanation for whatever she was... sensing. Or even pinpoint the way or the sense she was using to sense it. Troublesome.
"Are you sure you are human?"
Not bad. It could be interpreted in a lot of different ways, eg.:
You are too nice to a stranger to be true.
You are weird.
I think you are a mutant.
You are too helpful to a mutant not to be one yourself.
You look like an alien.
You smell funny.
Susan frowned. She hoped Elli wouldn't be offended by the question. But she had to ask. That opalescent... whatever it was was poking at her senses. It had to be something.

Snow was a most peculiar thing.
Not like Susan hadn't seen (or experienced) snow before. The Hydes always made sure they presented their children with all the perfect little details of childhood - and snow was one of them. Too bad Susan preferred to stay inside and thus avoid being hit by snowballs and other annoying wintertime projectiles.
But now that her unique Susan-way of perceiving the world was in full swing...
Snow was beautiful.

It had been snowing for the better part of the day, and unlike the snow of the days before, this one stuck around. Now that evening was falling and people took their children home for dinner, Central Park was quiet, calm, and white.
For the eyes of a human.
The tiny black dot that was a teenage witch (wrapped in a black coat with a huge hood, black-and-white striped gloves and boots with purple fur) occupied a par bench off the beaten paths in the snow. Elli was studying very hard at home, and she didn't want to disturb her; even though she was not the noisy kind, Susan could tell her brand new roommate needed her time alone, this close to her exams. So she went for a walk, and ended up in Central Park, alone with the twilight and the falling snow.
She was proud of her brand new and effective display of empathy.

Have you ever heard the sound of falling snow?
Have you ever seen it?
The world through Susan's momentarily black eyes was an elaborate impressionist painting of soft blues and whites; fluffy eruptions of sound-sparks when a snowflake landed on her coat or on the ground. If was calm, but not quiet.
And nothing, compared to the picture she saw as her eyes drifted into crimson.
The cold world around her suddenly colored over with all the possible shades of blue and glass-green; the only thing that stood out in this background was her own breaths, in small orange-and-red puffs of smoke, rapidly fading through the rainbow scale to light purple and then white. She breathed in, and breathed out again; anybody else would have only seen white clouds of breath. For her, it was waaay more addictive than actual smoking.

Susan didn't hum. She didn't have a good voice. But even for her practical and composed self, the evening beauty of the park called for music, so she pulled out Frost - the flute she bought for herself a few years back - and played a soft tune. Blue and evening-purple notes lifted into the air and mingled with the sound of the falling snow.

((OOC: yes I borrowed the flute's name from the Fables novel. Susan loves the Pied Piper story ))

Susan shrugged as she took the card from him. Since when did demon-like mutants carry cards anyway?...
"We were going to see some stupid musical. After they got the demon out of me, I suppose. I should be grateful to you for saving me the boredom."
Reading the card and listening to his explanation, she couldn't help but feel more than a little bit lost.
"I work with a mutant run clinic that serves the community equally. So, if you need any help I can probably get you where you need to go. If of course you want, or need to go anywhere at all."
She nodded slowly.
"I guess I should... go somewhere. I'd prefer not to go back to the school just yet..."
Looking up at Pluto, her eyes narrowed; she fought back half a switch as the strange opalescent color started to swirl around his form once again. She blinked the vision away. Maybe later.
"Um. Do you... could you take me somewhere where we could discuss this whole mutant issue?... If you have time for me, that is." she added a bit awkwardly. She didn't really know how to talk to a strange man, let alone a strange man with red skin and a tail, called Pluto. That was never included in the Etiquette curriculum. Too bad.

"Nonsense, just because I'm human doesn't mean I can't use the internet as well as you do. And I know a few people, I can call in some favors if you need it. I am glad to be able to help someone find their feet, especially someone in a situation like yours."
Susan blinked.
"I know where my feet are." she pointed that out. There wasn't anything wrong with her feet. Her senses, on the other hand...
Her eyes went black as their surrounding suddenly started to swim with colors. There were the metallic-silver streaks and swirls of cars, the rainbow raindrops of shoes tapping against the sidewalk, the numberless shades of the human voice and the faint blueish tint of the autumn wind. It was a wholly different world, and Susan allowed herself to marvel for a moment or two before turning back to Elli, blinking the sounds away. The blonde girl had a faint, opalescent humming about her. Shaking her head, Susan sighed.
"You are a very curious person, Elli Fletcher."
It was not respect. It was not critique. It was not friendliness. It was just the way it was.

"Yeah, the Police Academy of NYC. It's where I go to school. God, I can't wait until I graduate."
Susan nodded.
"I see. What I meant was... how does one meet mutants through the NYC police academy?..."
She wondered if mutants were really this commonplace in the outside world (meaning everything beyond the St. Joan's walls), and if they were, why on Earth didn't she find out about them sooner. She could never understand what most of her teachers had against genetics. Question of the year, huh.
"You mentioned you were doing research. What kind of research? Maybe I could help you with that, once finals are done with."
Susan smirked. Research she was good at. It was another term for 'leave me alone'.
"They never mentioned the existence of mutants at my school. If I want to find out more about my... abilities, I basically have to start from scratch... my foster parents often accuse me of withdrawing into the world of books instead of dealing with reality. I guess they are right too." she admitted. Even though that was before reality got sooo much more interesting.