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Climbing one handed would be a little more difficult but Meld wasn’t putting any of her weight on her so it was just the fact that Twyla seemed to have lost an appendage that would make climbing the ladder more technical. Twyla turned one last time to look down at Meld and Dead before she went camouflaged. I can do this. I’m good at this. This is natural. My powers are easy to control and I can keep this up. I have to. This isn’t about me anymore. Twyla thought as she looked down and took in Meld’s dimensions one last time. She’s been nice to me for no reason. If it weren’t for me she’d be out of this situation by now. Twyla took a deep breath and looked up at the rest of the ladder. I got this. I’m good at this. Brick is easy-peasy. She concentrated for a moment and the ladder as well as her hand disappeared. “We’re going to have to feel for the ladder rungs.” She whispered. “Don’t talk when we’re like this. It’s harder to concentrate and I’m not camouflaging your insides.”

She checked to make sure that she had covered Meld and Dead. See, you’re good at this. Between gymnastics and your mutant powers you are a veritable pro at your own body manipulation. And you’re so humble it’s ridiculous. Twyla smirked as she searched for another rung. As she climbed she blocked out the noises from the street. She didn’t want any distractions especially considering this was the first time she’d masked two others for any piece of time or distance. She even stopped paying attention to the noises the cops were making and the sirens. I have no idea where they are but it’s best to worry about the task at hand. Let the action heros deal with that. I’m the getaway car and all the getaway car has to deal with is getting away.

What he’s suggesting is suicide. How could someone outrun that many cops? Even with his powers that’s crazy. Twyla thought as she listened to Dead speak. She was relieved when it seemed like Meld agreed with her idea about going to the rooftops. "As long as you think you could keep up?" Meld added. Twyla could feel the shadow of a cocky grin spread across her face. This was finally a time when gymnastics, not track, would help her run away.

She thought back on practices spent with the other girls on her highschool gymnastics team. Every single one of the swore that Twyla was a totally different person when she preformed and trained. She went from being shy and hesitant to confident and forthcoming– especially when she was doing her moves well. Twyla usually did her moves well. This was because she’d been doing them since she was four years old. Gymnastics felt as natural to her as breathing and the situation now seemed to call on her to go into gymnastics mode. The cocky grin was a trademark of Twyla during this mind set and she almost blurted out “Oh we will see who has trouble keeping up with whom.”. Thankfully she stopped herself and didn’t say anything. This isn’t a competition, cool your jets. It was a rush for Twyla to be applying her favorite sport to a real life situation and she blamed that feeling for her almost rude outburst.

“I can keep up.” She finally replied. “I’m decently good gymnast.” And by decently good I mean I’ve gone to State every year since seventh grade, won medals at ever invitational since freshmen year in Uneven Bars or Floor Exercise, and placed third overall in my Uneven Bars level at State last year. But they don’t really care about that so it’s best not to seem arrogant. “I can mask us as we climb, as long as we’re all connected or touching in some way. I haven’t been able to get my abilities to camouflage things I’m not touching. If we go slow I’m sure we’ll be fine. I agree with Meld, you shouldn’t throw yourselves at them until we know that’s the only real option that we have.” She directed the last part of her statement at Dead.

Twyla decided that she could cut the tension in the air with a knife if she had the mind to. She REALLY doesn’t like him... The fuzz decided to show. Twyla thought as she heard cars parking and doors closing. She turned for a quick look to make sure she knew what she was hearing. Just act natural. They don’t know you were there. Twyla tried her hardest to keep herself together and normal looking as they walked.

"Stop and put your hands where we can see them. This is the police." Twyla stopped instantly, a feeling like the touch of ice was creeping up her spine. Oh no. What do I do now? Oh no. Her heart began beating much faster and her palms started sweating, but she managed, luckily, to stay normal looking as she stood there for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Her questions were answered when Meld pushed Dead into the cops behind them and grabbed her arm. “Wha-” She started to say as Meld pulled her into a nearby alley.

She could hear what she assumed was a scuffle between Dead and the police officers and then he came around the corner seemingly unaffected by the fact that Meld had basicaly offered him up as a sacrifice to the authorities. "By the way they’re both alive, they'll have a hell of a head ache, but I’m sure Tylenol can fix that." He added. Good, they were just doing their jobs. It’s not their fault they’re in this mess. Twyla was happy to know that the officers would be okay, she was sure that Dead could have hurt them fatally if he had chosen to.

Twyla walked to the opening of the alley and peaked around the corner. Her legs were shaking and she was having a hard time breathing. I think I’m in shock. This is what I felt like in Boston. There were more officers coming their way. Some of the, she assumed, to make sure that their comrades were alright. Her brain went whirring, trying to find a way out of this situation. She played out several scenarios before she had her epiphany. “Duh.” She said quietly before turning back to Meld and Dead. “There’s more of them coming this way and I really don’t like the idea of a fight. I have a way out of here though, we’d have to go slow, and I’ve never really had to focus on more than one person before, but I think it’s doable. I think I could get us far enough away, if you wanted to try it–using my power to get us out of here, I mean.” She said this and shrugged before looking down again.

Look, it seems like their feud is with each other. If it spills over and brings in you there’s always the obvious option of running. I highly doubt you’d be followed. Whatever happened to being almost brave and jumping? You NEED this help. Just because you’re uncomfortable does not mean that you’ll wake up any safer tomorrow out here. So suck it up and roll with the punches. Things’ll be fine. Twyla weighed her options silently. She looked up at Meld and finally replied “Uh, it’s alright. I forget myself sometimes too.” Twyla thought back to her running episode earlier; it was a prime example of Twyla losing herself.

“Maybe we should just go. Those sirens are getting pretty close.” And they were, Twyla could almost tell how many cop cars were coming to the scene. She picked up her chuck covered feet and dropped them restlessly and looked around nervously. The street had cleared in their immediate area, she assumed because of the human with the injuries and the crushed car. Her face had started to get red as she realized that she looked like a coward again. Skittish as a deer. I really need to work on that.

Twyla watched the happenings in confusion. It was all happening so fast. All of a sudden the yelling man was through the other window and then there was money on the counter inside. Twyla was rapidly switching between being camouflaged and normal looking. I have no idea what is going on. Twyla looked down and she could barely see her left hand. Focus. You look almost transparent. It’s probably better not to give the locals another reason to freak out again. Legs. Arms. Chest. Shoulders. Face. Bring it all back in.

She took a deep breath and she was totally normal again. The stranger said a few sentences to Meld. Oh, they know each other. Twyla realized. That’s what it seems like at least. “...who's your friend?" Oh, that’s me. The stranger turned to Twyla and she noted that he had a nice expression on his face, despite the traumatic moments he had just had. “I’m Wallflower.” Twyla stated, shaking the stranger’s hand. This time she didn’t hesitate, the new name was growing on her. “I agree. The cops’ll be coming soon.” She added. She could almost hear the sirens in the distance, someone had to have called the police by now, there was a bit of a crowd forming around the crushed car. Twyla had never been in a situation like this. Her entire time away from home she had avoided most confrontation and tried to hide her powers from humans in general. Avoidance was the best method to ward off conflicts like this one that being a mutant caused to get out of hand. Twyla was getting nervous, and her natural instincts told her to run. It was all she could do to keep herself looking normal and to keep her feet from dragging her away.

Twyla unlocked her knees and started to follow Meld. “Well I’m glad I’m not getting in the way of your plans then. I’m sure it’s a very nice place.”She replied quickly as she turned her face up to look the woman she had just met in the face. In that moment she realized that she WAS a stranger and that she was helping her without knowing anything about Twyla but the fact that she was also a mutant. This was the first time that help had come Twyla’s way in a form other than ‘you do this for me, I do this for you’.

After her realization Twyla felt suddenly shy and humbled. She looked up again and offered her thanks. “Thank you very much for helping me– to get to this Sanctuary I mean. I’m sure it’s kinda weird for you to pick up a random kid off the street but I’m very thankful that you did.” As she said this, Twyla’s voice got softer and softer and her face got redder and redder.

It sounds A LOT dumber when you say it out loud. She thought angrily to herself, feeling juvenile and overly emotional. I meant what I said though. This place, Sanctuary, sounds...Well it sounds perfect. I’m really lucky she noticed me. I’m not sure how much longer I could city hop like this...Twyla’s thoughts trailed off as she stuck a hand in the front pocket that carried all the money she had. The five dollar bill she had earned that same day was still there. On her first train away from home Twyla had decided that as long as she had some money for a bus she could survive. She still had bus money and now she had something else that she also earned that day–a nervous and easily vanquished, but very real hope that she would survive.