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Jay's remark earned a chuckle from the dapper young man, and a casual raise of his glass. Anyone who could roll with his antics was alright by Khalil's standards. Jay wished him well. It was nice to see that the criminal lifestyle had yet to sap his concern for other peoples’ wellbeing.

“I will… I appreciate it,” he replied, his tone dropping to a more serious timber. One of these days, the Syndicate would legitimately be the death if him.

“Too bad we don't have workers comp,” he remarked, “Though I suppose a healer is the next best thing.”

Dressing for the elements was a challenge for the young woman, but it was imperative given her susceptibility to the cold. She was wearing at least two layers of fleece-lined leggings, a knitted headband, a sweater, a scarf, a coat. Gina's bony, avian feet were still exposed, but beyond that she was pretty warm. From behind the darkened lenses of her sunglasses, Gina surveyed the bustling streets from street-level. Flying when visibility was this crappy, and when the air was so cold, was not enjoyable. Hence, walking. She was en route to Xavier's for her volunteer hours.

Most people have her a wide berth, despite the fact that she barely passed five feet. It came with the mutational territory. Gina just smiled, strode along, and minded her own business. That is, until someone mowed into her from behind. The gargoyle was sent stumbling forward.

“The f***?!” she murmured. Gina turned to face the person who’d slammed into her, a man who seemed preoccupied with the bags in his arms, “Where's the fire?”

“Thief! Stop him!!”

They were pointing at the guy who'd slammed into her. His grip tightened on the bags on his arm, and he broke back into a sprint.

Gina ran after him but her legs were short, she'd never be able to keep up or catch up with him. Before she knew what was happening, she spread her wings, frantically beating them to get off the ground. Flying was always faster. She was practically sprinting. In no time, she closed the distance between them. Gina swung close to the man who screamed in alarm or perhaps fear. Taloned hands clasped at the bags, but the man didn't release them. Gina banked higher. He was a small dude, quick too, so with minimal effort Gina began to climb.

“Let go of the bags,” Gina snapped, “Or I'll drop you.”

Apparently he was convinced, because he let go, stumbling to street-level. Gina fanned her wings, catching air. She jogged to a stop, turning to face the man. He backpedaled.

*Hissssssss,* the feral noise broke from her throat unbidden. The sound, or perhaps the gleaming canines, sent the man scrambling. Sometimes looking like a demon had its perks. Gina wrapped her arms around the bags and trotted back towards the crowd, pleased with herself. That could've been so much worse.

She was quiet as she returned, smiling at the bystanders. She wasn't sure who'd been mugged.

Gina smiled politely at the remark. Even from another physical mutant, the remark settled with her weirdly. "Cool" mutations sensationalized the idea of having a mutation. One moment, Gina had been anxiously clasping the other girl's hand... and then she was clasping air. Gina gasped, and then squeaked in alarm when she realized where the other girl had gone.

Gina nodded and fell-in behind wolf-guy, who was the tallest of the three of them. But not before turning to the smaller girl, "If you want, you can grab a strand of my hair so we don't leave you in the dust... or sit on my shoulder or something."

It was too confined to fly inside, and the crowds were crushing in around them. The chaos was flowing into the halls. The wolf-guy was probably the best bet for breaking-up the crowd. Gina kept closed, her hands clasped to her chest.

A rookie. Greeeeat. Khalil smiled, and gave an unconvincing "hm" with a smile. Poseidon had tasked him with an errand that was outside of his expertise, with a partner who hadn't really been formally assessed by the Syndicate yet. Just great. How wonderful. Fantastic.

Because this guy... whatever his name was... was new, Khalil felt comfortable giving him the rundown.

"I'll handle the talking," Khalil said quickly, "And when we're dealing with these *ssholes, call me 'Red'. And I'll call you-"

Khalil flapped his hand. He hadn't caught the guy's name.

"These guys are potential dealers, and Poseidon wants us to collect from 'm, okay?" Khalil explained, "They make good on their end of the deal, we have another source of income, everyone's happy."

His voice was soft. Even though the streets were empty, or seemed empty, he didn't want to take any chances.

The guy said something about being "lucky" for being recruited. At some point, Khalil had thought himself "lucky" too-- he had shelter, a creative outlet where he could let the flames run wild. But now? Now... f**k, he didn't know. But it sure a.f. didn't feel lucky. But dissent for a gang to which you belonged wasn't exactly smiled upon.

"Luck~y," Khalil echoed, smiling faintly. He didn't sound convinced.

Joey's surprise earned an impish smirk from the gargoyle, which instantly foiled her ruse of being some sort of polyamorous goddess. One could dream... but honestly, she was quite happy with just Nessa. She didn't need an entourage.

>> "Oh, um, nope. No girlfriends for me."

"Booo," the gargoyle voiced her disapproval. How had Joey managed that? With looks like his, he had to beating girls back with a stick. Or just... really, really picky. For someone who was already involved in a relationship with another girl, the obvious alternative surprisingly did not occur to her.

"That's okay, though. Being a free agent is sometimes good, too. You have so much more time for... activities!"

As if a twenty-one-year-old had the right to give sage advice to her big brother. Pah.

It was true, though. Relationships took work. Not being in a relationship meant... you had more time to do your own thing!

Welcome back (again)! Good to see you on the boards, love. <3

Woo! Congrats on the new character, Fish. It's nice to see another of Gina's brothers on the boards. >D