[Alice Winters]

It was cold out. No. It was absolutely freezing outside. At least that was how it felt for Alice. Her body temperature usually sat at a cozy one-hundred-five degrees. Tonight, however, it had cooled down to a very uncomfortable ninety-eight degrees. True, most human, and even mutant, body temperatures averaged about ninety-eight point five degrees, barring any illness or extenuating circumstances. For Alice though, being a full seven degrees colder than you’re accustomed to and designed for was not good. Slowly but surely, her lips were beginning to turn a more prominent shade of blue, and her teeth were chattering so fiercely she worried that anybody walking by the dark alley would be able to hear it. The last thing she needed was some curious human poking around the trashcans she was curled up behind.

She sighed, frustrated with her current predicament. It wasn’t like she could like a fire either. That would defeat the purpose of hiding in the first place. Then again, she was in Brotherhood territory—not that she realized it; she was more concerned with keeping her own ass safe than worrying about those mutant factions. Wrapping the threadbare, tattered blanket more securely around herself, she covered as much of her body up as she could, her knees tucking even tighter underneath her chin. Breathing out, she watched the visible puff of air dissipate.

Unconsciously, she pushed her hand out from underneath the hardly warm blanket, snapping it in a constant beat, the hand alternating between being aflame, and completely normal. So far as she could tell, there was nobody around, and therefore no one to witness the dancing of light across the metal trashcans. Glancing down at the clothes she was wearing, the off-and-on flame creating a strobe light-like effect, she scowled, teeth ceasing to chatter for the few seconds the expression remained firmly in place. Pink was so not her favorite color, not that the shirt was very pink anymore. It was thin and breathable—not exactly weather appropriate—even through the heavy dusting of dirt. It was the only remotely clean shirt she had left to wear. Alice could only stand wearing filthy, dirty clothes so many times without washing them.

The pants weren’t much different, except for the fact that they lacked the rips and tears the flimsy shirt had. The reason being that she didn’t wear them all that often considering they were more like capris than pants. The coat she had on had once been quite warm, but now it hardly offered more warmth than the threadbare blanket. Don’t even get her started on the shoes she was wearing, they were utterly despised. At least she had a wool cap to keep her head warm.

The sound of a leaf crunching plunged the alley into near total darkness once more, her hand fizzling out as her heart beat sped up rapidly. The fight-or-flight instinct was trying its damndest to kick in, but she couldn’t exactly run, considering the only way out was possibly being blocked by a person, and she wasn’t about to fight someone without knowing what she was up against. Slowly, she slid further into the recess behind the trashcans, coming to rest near a rather large pile of boxes. As if this night couldn’t get any worse. She might have been about to get caught after two years of hiding. Way to be careless.


WORDS! 567. // OUTFIT! HOBO CHIC.

[Philippa Sontag]

As a former Special Forces soldier and therefore de facto leader of the Brotherhood because she was the only one with any level of common sense and who hadn't been arrested yet despite having violet eyes and pink hair and actively trying to kidnap the son of the leader of the Friends of Humanity, Arclight knew a thing or two about security. With all these soldiers and scanners from the MEU running around trying to DNA scan and arrest anyone with a goddamned X-gene, she was maintaining a perimeter guard around the Brotherhood headquarters until her flight to Portland to deal with faction members there. Not a trip she was looking forward to, but it got her out of the city while people trying to arrest her just for existing were around, and that was reason enough for her to go.

Until that flight, though - check in wasn't for another twelve hours - she was making sure the headquarters were safe from anti-mutant attacks. Measures had been put in place so that the morons she was leaving behind should be safe; anti-infrared technology measures, hiding holes, escape routes, little things that should mean she'd have a Brotherhood to come back to in a couple of weeks or so. And she was kicking all the damned hobos out of the alleyways too; she had no loyalty to them, unless they were mutant and willing to show themselves as such to her. Then she might consider giving them what little sanctuary she could provide.

There was someone in the alleyway now, and you didn't have to be a genius to put two and two together and get 'mutant'. The lighting effect was not from a torch, nor was it consistent enough to come from an oil drum fire, and there was none of that scent around either. She knew what to look for with that kind of thing, just as she knew what to do to avoid people who wanted her dead. Special Forces soldiers who lacked observation skills weren't an extinct breed because they had never been any kind of breed at all. Observation was a critical skill in the military, and an even more critical one as a mutant trying not to get caught.

A critical skill that someone had neglected to practise, it seemed.

Arclight stepped into the alley without caring about what noises she made; she was more than capable of taking out a mutant who couldn't keep their powers together at a time such as this, even if it seemed that they might be invisible or a teleporter or have some other such skill on top of the light show, because at first glance there was nobody here. But Arclight didn't leave it at a first glance. She moved into the alley, taking a closer look at things, and a hand darted out to break through a large pile of boxes and snag hold of what felt like a shirt collar.

"Don't make a sound," she hissed. "I ain't gonna hurt you."

[Alice Winters]

Oh great. Someone was trying to be brave by stepping into the alley. They weren't even being quiet about their presence either. Apparently they weren't fazed by the fact that she was pretty much invisible for the most part. Not that that lasted very long. She nearly screamed when a hand burst through a small gap in the boxes and grabbed hold of her shirt collar, but held back by sheer force of will. And a little lip biting, but mainly willpower. Sort of. The bloody lip begged to differ, but she just licked it off with her tongue to hide the evidence. Great, like she needed another potential rip in it. Especially in that area.

’Don’t make a sound. I ain’t gonna hurt you.’

Yeah, that was extremely convincing when said with a hiss. If this chick expected Alice to just go quietly, she was in for a nasty surprise. Wrenching herself out of the unknown stranger’s vice grip—and losing quite the chunk of fabric from her shirt in the process, but thankfully not having anything exposed—she tore out from her sanctuary among the cardboard boxes.

There was a moment’s hesitation as she decided whether or not to activate her power, but within seconds her hands blazing. The person probably already realized she was a mutant, considering there was no other possible source of the flickering firelight around them other than her hands. ”Who are you and what do you want,” she asked, cold weather forgotten for the time being, though her lips were still visibly blue, even with the heat coming off of her hands. Her lips were forming a snarl that was accompanied by a fierce glare.

It wasn’t until now that she took the time to actually look at her attacker. Shock was evident in her eyes as she took in the pink hair and vivid violet eyes of her ‘attacker.’ Her defenses dropped and her hands extinguished, only to light up again when she realized she had no idea what this most-likely-a-mutant could do. Brushing back tendrils of her hair that had come loose from the dirty, blonde ponytail, unfazed by the fact that her hand was on fire considering that it posed no threat to her—she was immune—Alice posed another question, which really ended up as more of a statement, to the violet-eyed woman. ”You’re a mutant.”

Curiosity ran rampant in her, and she was instantly wondering what exactly the woman could do. Hopefully nothing too damaging, considering Alice would like to make it out of here alive, and preferably conscious and aware. It wasn’t like all mutants liked each other. There was a very clear reason as to why there were X-Men and Brotherhood members, and then a handful of mutants, such as herself, with no faction whatsoever. A niggling feeling in the back of her mind made her think this particular mutant standing in front of her was part of the Brotherhood, considering the unaffiliated ones tended to keep to themselves, and from what she knew of the X-Men, they weren’t the type to forcefully grab someone by the collar of their shirt.


WORDS! 525. // OUTFIT! HOBO CHIC.

[Philippa Sontag]

"Quit the light show and turn the volume down," Arclight ordered, admiring the girl in a sense but valuing their extended well being more. The kid was lucky that it had only been her shirt that had been grabbed; had it been an arm then pulling away in such a bullish manner would have left her with a broken arm. Unlike the seismokinesis that Arclight had crouched to use when the girl lit up like a christmas tree, her strength was not something that she could just switch on and off on a whim.

The twenty-eight year old didn't answer any questions asked of her. She was beholden to nobody, owed nothing to anyone, especially explanations, and especially to barely trained kids too dumb to keep their powers hidden and their voices down. Yes, she had pink hair, she dyed it that way on purpose to attract attention. She wanted people to notice her for the most part, and when she didn't want to be noticed then she had her ways of hiding in crowds. And violet eyes? Well, they were a perfectly human eye colour, thank you very much, a little different perhaps but still. Nobody in the army had ever bothered her about it, even after anti-mutant policies had arisen.

"Follow me."

Arclight didn't ask questions. She didn't make suggestions, either; the underlying tone of her voice was of power, of being able to communicate across battlefields, not of anything so weak as compromise or loss, even though the Brotherhood was as sidelined and extremist as ever and therefore no more victorious than it had ever been under Magneto. The woman turned and strode off towards one of the lesser used entries into the Brotherhood building, and if the girl had any common sense then she would follow, especially if she wanted a thicker outfit and a cup of hot chocolate. If she didn't have that sense then Arclight had a telephone and the number for the Mutant Hotline. Harsh, she knew, but screw it. If you weren't with the Brotherhood then you were against it, Magneto had made no bones about that. And as far as Arclight saw it, any mutant against them who wasn't rich enough to be HellFire Club could go rot in a cell and muse on what they were missing.

[Alice Winters]

’Quit the light show and turn the volume down.’

Alice scoffed at the blatant order, but extinguished her hands nonetheless. Reluctant as she was to admit it, the other mutant had a point. No use getting them both caught, although she didn’t think she’d been that loud, but it was possible. Sorry if being grabbed by the collar in the middle of the night freaked her out just a little bit. It wasn’t like say, the government was hunting down mutants for extermination. No, that wasn’t the case at all. Excuse her if she felt like she had the right to be a little pissed off and freaked out and loud as a result. Totally unacceptable, of course.

She half-frowned, half-scowled at the lack of answers coming from the woman. Really, was it too much to ask for a reason as to why she was unceremoniously yanked out from her sanctuary? Apparently so. An apology would’ve been nice for the ripped shirt as well. That, however, was highly unlikely if she couldn’t get the aforementioned response.

’Follow me.'

Um, excuse her? For all Alice knew, there could be an unspoken ‘to your doom’ part. ‘Follow me to your doom’ didn’t exactly sound promising in the least. Then again, it was probably warmer wherever she was supposed to follow the woman to. That in itself was reason enough for her. Years of distrust were making her hesitate though. What if it was a trap? What if this mutant was just helping the government capture other mutants in exchange for her own life?

While Alice still stood there thinking, the woman disappeared into an entrance she hadn’t even noticed. Shifting her weight back and forth on her feet, Alice finally resigned herself to following the violet-eyed mutant. She seriously hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake. Speeding up her walk once she was inside, she slowed back down once she was walking alongside the mutant, her movements still exhibiting the wariness she was feeling towards the situation.

Biting her lip—and wincing when it was the same place she’d hurt only moments ago—she rephrased an earlier question. ”Could I at least get your name, or something?” Sure that wasn’t too much to ask, considering she was following like the mutant had practically demanded. She heard some scuffling that was in no way made by any type of animal, and whipped around in a full circle, fire returning to her hands. Yeah, she was kind of high strung. Okay, she was really high strung, but it wasn’t like she didn’t have a legitimate reason for it. The other mutant didn’t seem bothered by it, however, and the flames disappeared as fast as they’d come, and she once again walked alongside the woman.


WORDS! 460. // OUTFIT! HOBO CHIC.

[Philippa Sontag]

"Sontag."

Speaking was not something that Arclight had a problem with. Her speech could be quite eloquent if she chose to be, but mutants who were incapable of detaching their powers from their emotions were not amongst her favourite people. New mutants were one thing, of course, she could understand a person who had just found out that they had mutant powers might be a little panicked and therefore unable to keep control, but here there was just her, a woman who had made no admittance of mutancy, and Captain Obvious herself.

She gave the girl the name that she answered to but which wasn't the name that she handed out to people who were part of her 'us' team as opposed to the 'them' team. This girl was not yet an 'us', she had to be more than just a mutant for that. Being in this building was a start, but not the entirity of it, and although it was risky having her here - she could run, she could talk to people who might be more trouble than they were already facing thanks to that goddamned census - but there was always a place in the Brotherhood for a pyrokinetic, if they could get one to stick around long enough.

Leading the way, Arclight grinned as they came to where the stair case should be. She had destroyed it herself, replacing it with a climbing wall to make it easier to take out anyone trying to ascend in. Anyone running out of the place this way could jump and roll, but getting in was harder.

"You only use the blue handholds," she said, starting to climb. "It's an anti-lynch mob option."

She climbed swiftly, laying out on the floor to hold her hand out when she got to the top . She was more than certain of her ability to pull the girl up, could have carried her up on her back, but figured that the girl might prefer not to be touched without permission. Arclight wouldn't blame her for that, at least.

[Alice Winters]

’Sontag.’

Well at least they were getting somewhere now, at least in the information aspect of things. As for location, well, she had no idea where the hell they were going, and Sontag didn’t seem to be inclined to rectify that situation. Alice was hesitant to give her real name, and giving the fake one only to inform Sontag later that it wasn’t actually her name didn’t sound like something that would end very well. Codename it was then. ”Firefly.” It was a nickname her father had taken to calling her when they were safe in their apartment, and her mother wasn’t around. So she ended up taking it as her codename when she started living on the streets. It’s not like it wasn’t fitting for her.

She couldn’t help but give an amused snort at the sight of the climbing wall and Sontag’s rather large grin. ”Clever.” Who would’ve thought that all the climbing into various warehouses and abandoned building she’d done would eventually lead to this. She could be relatively sure that she wouldn’t fall off and embarrass herself, but she’d still be hard pressed to get up there without a slip or two.

’You only use the blue handholds. It’s an anti-lynch mob option.’

Alice watched, impressed, as the woman scaled the wall with seemingly no effort, and an unmistakable grace. She smiled inwardly when she watched Sontag lay down on her stomach with her hand stretched out to help pull her up and over once she reached the top. Grabbing onto the first blue handhold, she started to climb up after Sontag. Towards the middle her foot slipped—the shoes had horrible traction, one of the main reasons she hated wearing them—but she managed to hang on and climb up the rest of the way without a problem, albeit slower than Sontag herself had.

She gratefully accepted Sontag’s outstretched hand, and was shocked when she was pulled up as if she was merely a feather. Maybe she had some sort of super strength as her power. Only way to find out was to ask. The worst that could happen was that Sontag didn’t bother to answer her. ”If you don’t mind me asking, what can you do?” A couple years on the street, and she still retained her manners and politeness for the most part, which was more than she could say for some. It was obvious to see what Alice was—a pyrokinetic—but the extent of her power was not something so easily known. She wasn’t about to make any serious assumptions about what Sontag could do, other than her speculation of super strength.


WORDS! 441. // OUTFIT! HOBO CHIC.

[Philippa Sontag]

A capable climber. Arclight noted such things in people she met, mainly because a lot of the people she met she happened to come across in her line of work. Which was as a rock climbing instructor. This girl, this emotional firebug, had climbed before. Not surprising, really; she looked like she'd been hiding out for a while, and in New York hiding out meant abandoned warehouses or it meant sewers.

Arclight would take a warehouse over a sewer any day of the week.

"I'm a rock climbing instructor," she replied, carefully, when the girl asked what it was that she could do. The question was unspecific, and Arclight knew a lot about such questions. She wasn't quite on a politician’s standard when it came to avoiding answering questions asked of her, but she could hold her own on a civilian level. Besides which, she had yet to admit to this girl that she was even a mutant. Not because she was afraid of making such an admission, but because she hated it when people just assumed things about her. For all the girl knew she could just be mutant-friendly, although in this city that was about as likely as her being president of the United States of America.

The twenty-eight year old moved through the building towards the living area, frowning as she hastily cleared up behind the slobs she obviously lived with. They were bloody morons, the lot of them, mostly male and almost entirely lacking human level thought processes. They were all about food, sex, sleep and survival. The only reason she stuck around was because the rent was cheaper.

"You want a drink, Firefly? We have just about anything you could possibly want."

There was probably nothing alcoholic, of course. Alcohol in this house came in early in the evening and was being pissed away before midnight. When people were here, of course, which several of her acquaintances weren’t, having skipped town to avoid this census bull shit. That was what she was doing, essentially, in a few hours time, although her skipping also had an official edge to it. The lack of people here made it all the more unlikely that there would be beer, in any case.

[Alice Winters]

Alice smirked at the rock climbing instructor's reply, and shook her head in amusement. "Touché, Sontag." In truth, the answer did partially answer her unasked question as to why she chose a climbing wall as a sort of defense obstacle for unwelcome intruders. There was the possibility that the woman was not actually a mutant, but Alice was discarding that theory based on pure instinct.

She shrugged indifferently as Sontag produced a frown and hurriedly went about picking up the mess scattered around what she assumed was the living area. Honestly, Alice had been in places far, far worse than this, but it was nice that the woman cared about the impression she was making. At least that was how she was taking it.

Alice smiled shyly at the offer of something to drink, especially since she immediately knew what she really wanted. Whether or not they actually had it here, well she was about to find out. "You have a Monster energy drink by any chance, Sontag?" She hadn't had one in forever, and had practically lived off of them in high school. Saying she had been addicted to them would be an understatement. "If you don't, then just any kind of soda would be appreciated, thanks."

She glanced around the room again. There had been random items scattered about, but her and Sontag seemed to be the only people in the place. Her features formed into a questioning expression, but she neglected to say anything for the time being, not wanting to come across as too nosy or someone who asked too many questions, despite her raging curiosity.

Standing awkwardly in the center of the room, she kicked a small pebble lightly across the floor as she waited for Sontag to come back with something to drink for both of them. Her stomach growled softly, and served as a reminder that she had not eaten in awhile. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out what was left of a granola bar, and popped it quietly into her mouth. It wasn't much, but it would hopefully tie her over for a few hours. She walked over to one of the makeshift trashcans in the room, and tossed the wrapper into it.

She pulled off her wool cap next--her body temperature was back to normal now that she was out of the direct cold of the night--and cringed at the feel of her greasy, unbound hair unraveling. A shower was definitely in order as soon as she could pull it off, along with some clean clothes. Wrinkling up her nose, she pulled a hair band off her wrist, and pulled her hair up into a somewhat decent ponytail with practiced ease.


WORDS! 453. // OUTFIT! HOBO CHIC.

[Philippa Sontag]

Monster energy drink? It sounded familiar, although Arclight herself never drank it. Ah yes. That speedy little bastard who couldn't clean up after himself drank it, because fast meant a lot of energy was needed. So they should have something around, and if it wasn't Monster then there would be cola or cream soda. There might even be some lemonade, since Arclight liked that and it was the one slightly parental thing from her childhood that she held onto, learning to make lemonade with her mom. So she could find it in her to make some fresh if necessary.

"Take a seat," she said. "Don't go snooping, my flat mates don't like having their privacy invaded."

She could have made the girl follow her, but the kitchen was still in a state from the fights that had occured since the census was announced. Fights often occured in the kitchen, because Arclight didn't allow them in the unofficially named War Room. She had managed to repair most of the damage, but fresh plaster and cracked tiles were still visible, and asking questions seemed to be this pyro's secondary talent.

She rummaged through the cupboards quickly, locating the speedy guy's stash and grabbing a couple of bottles and a tub of cooled pasta from the fridge before heading back into the living area, placing both the drinks and the food on the coffee table and giving the younger woman a proper once over.

"There's a shower room on the second floor," she said, after a moment. "And a couple of spare rooms if you need a proper bed."

Usually she wouldn't offer such kindnesses to people without a proper interrogation process, but a pyrokinetic was a good addition to any mutant group's ranks, and a little kindness never hurt anybody. Her own powers were such that they couldn't be discovered without her wanting them shown off; she'd known pyros and cryos caught out by body temperature, telekinetics caught out by being too trusting, telepaths shopped by more powerful mutants or psi-immune humans. Arclight kept up her physical training, so when she hauled herself up the side of a building using only here fingers nobody took much notice. And her other power... Well, she only used that when she wanted to get people's attention.

"You been out on the streets long?"

[Alice Winters]

Alice startled a bit at the sound of the older woman’s voice. Apparently she had not already left as quickly as she had originally thought, which meant that she had done all that in a rather short amount of time, or the woman had been standing there for quite awhile. She nodded a silent acquiescence and moved to sit on one of the slightly misshapen, but no less comfortable, couches. She was tempted to prop her feet up on the table, but settled for a less rude approach and instead tucked them sideways underneath her and leaned against the back of the couch.

Sontag had told her not to mess with the stuff that belonged to her flat mates, which cemented the idea that other people lived here, and again she was curious as to where they all were. That and how many people lived here exactly. She removed herself from her inner musing and questioning when she heard Sontag returning to the room she had left the pyrokinetic girl in. She was happy to find that the woman had indeed managed to find a Monster energy drink from somewhere inside the place, and could not prevent the surprised widening of her eyes when she caught sight of the food also tucked in her arms.

She could feel the scrutinizing gaze on her as she reached for her energy drink, and made sure to avert her eyes. It made her nervous when people openly stared at her for reasons other than how filthy she was, or something to that effect. After pulling the aluminum tab to pop open the elongated green and black can, she took a small sip, her face producing a small, almost unnoticeable smile. Setting it down in a small space made between her curled legs, she reached for a small paper plate and plastic fork.

She transferred a small serving of the chilled, but no less delicious looking, pasta onto the plate. Leaning back in her seat, she gave Sontag and grateful look. ”Thanks, this…means more to me than you will ever know.” It was the truth too. Too long had it been since she had had a proper meal, let alone a comfortable, safe place to sit down and enjoy it instead of having to scarf it down as fast as possible.

You could have knocked Alice over with a feather when the woman mentioned showers and an actual bed to sleep in. ”I…uh…seriously?” Not the most coherent thing she had ever said, but at the moment, she was having a bit of a hard time forming actual sentences. She was brought out of her stupor by the question that followed. ”Around two years actually,” she said, taking a bite of the pasta after she had finished answering. Boy was it good to have real food in her stomach.


WORDS! 474. // OUTFIT! HOBO CHIC.