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Chase listened while Jude spoke--he was good at listening, thus that is what he did.

What about adult mutants?" he urged, "Don't they need homes, too?"

As Chase listened to Jude explain invisibility, he began to question his choice of description. It want really like tensing up, but twisting as well, sort of like grabbing a rope and torquing it until it would twist no longer, but only during the shift. It wasn't an easy thing to describe at all.

Jude asked if Chase would show him how to shift sometime. But, Chase quickly shook his head. To prevent any misunderstanding, he explained, "Watching would be more confusing. It would be easier to do first."

Chase polished off his burger, leaving his fries and drink on the bench as he stood. He crinkled up his wrapper, and dropped it into the lunch box. He would throw it all away later. He waited as Jude threw his own wrapper away, and as her proposed that they check out these places with free housing. Chase smiled faintly.

"I would like that," Chase agreed. He shifted his weight, contemplated his words, and then spoke in that same, quiet tone that he favored.

"Jude," Chase began simply, "There is a small detail about my mutation, that I should give you a heads-up about... actually, it may be good practice if you try this yourself-" Chase broke off and removed his cap. Perhaps his only clean article of clothing. He shifted his gaze towards Jude, "I try to be careful about touching people or borrowing their clothes. I can shift based off of... residues."

He held the hat out for Jude to take and put on, and continued to explain, "It can be useful, but difficult. Your body will want to shift, so you really need to think about it, if you don't want to... mind over matter, I think. Try it on."

Though there were plenty of cruel people in the city, Chase had found his own, fair share of kind souls, too. People like Aedus, who not only wanted to feed him, but were offering their small, cozy apartments up for Chase to crash in. Chase dropped his gaze shyly, but bobbed his head. He had enough of a complex about people buying him things. To live with someone was a whole other level of imposing upon others.

I don't know," Chase mumbled, quickly replacing the first reply with a, "I mean, thank you. That's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." This was probably true. Chase didn't make things like this up.

He bit back the rising urge to decline the offer outright. Aedus was just being nice, for which Chase was appreciative, but... why were these strangers so nice to him, anyways, when his own flesh and blood had been so awful? It didn't compute.

Agnes came up and dropped a hand on Chase's shoulder, to which Chase lifted his head from his fog of thoughts.

>> "Sounds like a good idea to me, Chase. You know, I get it. I was in your predicament. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Was it that obvious? Yes, if his flushed face were anything to go by.

"You were?" Chase wanted to hear more, but he was also hungry. Just the thought of food made his stomach gurgle, "Will you come with--?" Chase meant for food, but his elders could interpret his request freely. He turned towards Aedus, oldest of the three and thereby in-
charge for now, "Can she?"

>> "I used to be a teacher. Now I am a guidance counselor. I make sure everyone has a place in the school, and I help with whatever I can. Sometimes I even cook."

Chase had become well-acquainted with counselors and social workers in the past few months. He deflated a little, but listened out of politeness rather than self-interest. She knew how to get a boy's attention, though-- she mentioned cooking. Food. Suddenly, the hot dog didn't feel so filling any longer. Chase's gaze flickered from the pavement to her face searchingly.

Chase didn't know of residential schools, so to him, school was just a seven- or eight-hours-a-day sort of thing, which generally ended in leaving and returning home. A home which he didn't have. Chase wanted to go to school, sure, but he wasn't going to come to school looking the way he did, in the same pair of clothes, throughout the entire year.

>> "We have regular classes, and then we have teachers working with students to help them learn about their powers."

But, where better to go, than a mutant-school? Chase wanted to go to a school, but not a human one-- not anymore, not after what had happened.

"Wh-what about-- what about the kids who can't go home?" Chase dared to inquire, his eyes still searching Gemma's face, "I don't want to go to school like this everyday." He was quite dirty, and he tugged at the sleeve of his hoodie to show her what he meant. Even eight-year-old runaways had standards.

Chase was relieved to see that the mob was clearing, and quite rapidly, too. Only one spare pair of feet remained, and that lone attacker was quickly dropped to the pavement like a sack of potatoes-- presumably, by a blow that was dealt to him by the dark-haired man. The two remaining feet belonged to his two saviors-- the dark-haired man, and the pretty girl.

As Chase decompressed, he started crying-- there were dull, growing aches where he'd been kicked, he'd skinned his hands raw in the fall, and he'd been so panicked while he watched, so fearful for his defenders, that he'd actually made himself cry by hyperventilating, rather than vice-versa. Perfect timing for he just began tearing up as the guy who'd essentially acted as a human shield knelt down to peer under the car. The man assured him, "You got a guardian angel Kid, She saved us both. Its safe to come out."

Chase nodded to show that he comprehended, mopping his eyes with his sleeves. As long as his "guardian angel" didn't see him like this, he was fine. There was some guy's code of conduct about crying around other guys, where it simply wasn't spoken of, but to cry in front of a girl? Embarrassing. He held his breath and counted to ten, the way all children knew to do when they were crying, and listened to the two older kids converse-- how the guy believed that Chase had been amazing, and should have been thanked. Chase neither thought his actions had been amazing, nor deserved thanking. His "quick thinking" had started this mob, in the first place.

Chase saw that the girl was kneeling, and quickly sandwiched his bag to his face in an attempt to maintain some form of masculine dignity. A sniffle might have escaped him, but he tried to contain it as best as he could.

>> "Hunny? It’s okay-- I’m so sorry you went through that. They’re all gone, though. We won’t hurt you."

Chase nodded again, his black-eyed gaze trailing towards the girl as turquoise gradually began to simmer through. Of course they wouldn't hurt him, particularly after all that trouble they went through to protect him. Chase sorely crawled military-man style towards the front of the car, pushing his backpack ahead of him. His tears had dried, and now had been replaced by hiccups. Contrary to the complaints of his aching body and stinging palms, Chase pulled himself up out from under the car, got to his feet, and picked up his bag. Simple "thank you's" wouldn't suffice-- he couldn't remember the last time that someone so selflessly stepped in for him like that.

Chase went towards the guy first, as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. He twined his bony, little arms around the man's waist, burrowing his face into the guy's shirt. Chase was focused now, so didn't shift, and muscled up enough courage to say, "Thank you for protecting me like that." He couldn't lift his gaze, though. Only utter his thanks into the man's shirt, and leave it at that.

He went to the girl, as well, though with slightly more hesitance. His face burning brightly like a stage lamp, he gave the girl the same, earnest yet timid hug, though his arms fit more easily around her bony midsection, and Chase barely managed to utter a, "Thank you for stepping in like that," he hadn't been any more able to look her in the eye, either.

Chase then released her, and was glad to admit that he hadn't left the hugs looking like either of his rescuers, and hadn't begun to read either of their genetic signatures. He didn't think he could handle turning into someone else once more, today-- Chase didn't want to start any more mobs today.

Chase continued his spectating as the neon teal-haired girl and the brunette continued conversing, his interest in their interaction gradually lessening. He was, however, absolutely certain that girls were very bizarre creatures, indeed. He huffed as they went right on chattering, believing the action to be over. His overactive eight-year-old mind had been hoping for something as equally-awesome as hurling mountainous men into clothing displays. Teal-Haired Lady simply set the man back down, and held him down with a foot. Victory, Teal-Haired Lady.

Now that the guy was securely wedged under Teal-Haired Lady's foot, Chase scurried away from his vantage point, past the felled Giant and his petite conquerer, and positioned himself at Brunette Lady's side. He was going to give his thanks for not letting Muscles crush him to death for his freaky eyes, and then leave before too many people turned up. That simple. He watched as Teal-Haired Lady lectured Muscles, and then promised to send him candy in jail. Which, was a pretty cool deal, if the man didn't have to go to jail to get the candy in the first place.

Chase opened his mouth to thank them, but Teal-Haired Lady was quicker to speak. In an instant, the conversation returned to Brunette Lady's shirt, and the store from which it was bought. Girls and their clothes! Chase was very patient and very polite about the whole ordeal, not even blinking at the comment about Brunette Lady's bust. Chase wasn't in-tuned to those sort of implications in the least. His gaze flicked toward Brunette Lady, since the two of them were still discussing. He would wait until they were done.

Chase stirred yet didn't awaken when the woman with the shopping bags approached-- his human facade slipped as her aura engulfed him, but Chase paid no notice. He was sleeping like the dead.

The woman, having set down her shopping bags, nudged Chase and urged him to wake up. Chase stifled a yawn as he unfolded from around his backpack, his vision swimming blearily. He blinked a couple of times, gaze focusing on the Amazonian woman before him. Chase gave her a dopey smile, got to his feet, and slurred, "Must've missed the bus."

It was the best line that Chase could concoct, given his grogginess. He stood there spacily for a moment, stretched and yawned. As he stretched, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It was at that point in time that Chase realized that he wasn't exactly human-looking at the moment.

A wave of dread hit the eight-year-old like a pail of ice water, startling the child into wakefulness. He tried to slip into the human facade, but couldn't. And, here he was, cornered by a woman who was easily two feet taller than him, stuck looking like a freak. At least she hadn't screamed, yet.

"Umm, excuse me," Chase stammered apologetically, ducking his head as he picked up his bag and stumbled out of the sheltered bus stop. He began to make his retreat, anxiously running a hand through his hair. That's what he got for sleeping at a bus stop.