1963-11-03 - Rough Neighbourhood
Summary: Some foolish thugs try to mug the Son of War on his way home. Samantha steps in to lend a hand, and miraculously nobody dies or ends up in the psych ward.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
samantha alexander 

It's late, it's dark, and it's not a great neighbourhood. Alex, what in Hades' name are you doing in Harlem? Well, I'm glad you asked; Pinball, my friend. Banned in New York City in the the '40s, machines are hard to come by; as with anything else, banning the game only made it more popular, and Alex is what you might call a bit of a pinball junkie. Many a quarter thrown away on the silly game. Fortunately, quarters are easy enough to come by. These days, pinball machines tend to be kept out of sight, in back rooms where you have to know who to talk to to get a game in. Alex has managed, in his admittedly brief time in New York, to find a few such establishments, and one happens to be in Harlem, in the rear of a laundromat, of all places. He'd wasted a few hours, and by the time he'd played his fill, the sun had set and night had come. Later than he intended, but the trip from Harlem to Hell's Kitchen doesn't get any longer just because it's dark.

Harlem isn't exactly the friendliest neighbourhood, particularly not for a lily-white young man such as Alex. He's not exactly big and tough looking, and walking alone through this part of town would likely set most men of his like on edge, to say the least. Hands in his pockets, he walks without paying much attention to the others he might pass on the street. He ducks down an alley, expecting to shave a few minutes, at least, from his walk. Whether he notices it or not, a small group of men moves into the alley after him; four of them, and they don't seem like the type to offer friendly advice or a helping hand.

"What'cha doin' here, kid? Looks like you're a long way from where you oughta be," one of the men calls to him from behind as the group approaches. Alex stops, and turns to look at them. "Trying to get home, man," he replies with a bit of a shrug.

"Shoulda called a cab, boy," another of the four says, laughing. "Might not make it. Hand over your wallet, kid, maybe we let you go."


Perhaps it's a little bit of irony in a way. Samantha had been in Harlem quite a bit this month since she'd started volunteering at a local clinic. Despite the horrified objections of some of her co-workers the woman who practically looked like a poster-child for All-American and lily-white herself hadn't really had any problems. Discounting that thing with the car-crash, but that was a bank robber so it hardly counts right? With her handbag slung over her shoulder, her hair pinned back and her jacket wrapped around her shoulders she's making her own walk back home, one not all that shorter then the 'Kitchen-bound' Alex.

Maybe, had she walked a little bit faster or him a little bit slower, it'd be Sammy that found themself in such trouble. Instead the young woman's quiet humming of a relaxed demeanor that's probably a little odd for someone walking home at this hour is interupted by something catching her ears: voices. Unable to shake off the hazards of curiousity, the young woman draws towards the alleyway, lightly stepping around despite herself just in time to catch the threats and deduce the obvious mugging.

Ever so calmly she shrugs her handbag off, tucking it down against the alleyway's wall and tugging the hood of her coat up in an attempt to hide at least some of her features. What the hell, right?


"Man, I just want to get home," Alex says, sounding actually a little bit annoyed, rather than afraid, as most people would, finding themselves cornered in a dark alley and outnumbered four to one. "You know, home? That place where your bed is, and you don't have to worry about dumb-ass muggers?" Yes, that's right Alex, insult them. That'll help.

"Shut the fuck up," one of the men says, as the group move to surround the young man. They're focused on Alex just now, and the entrance of Samantha into the alley, for now at least, goes unnoticed. "Gimme all your cash, or I'm gonna spill your guts all over the pavement," he threatens, pulling out a knife to brandish at their intended victim.

Alex pulls his hands out of his pockets, raising them slightly. "Whoa there, man," he says, though his heart isn't really in it. "No need to get all stabby. You want my wallet? It's in my back pocket. Come and take it, it's all yours," he says, keeping his hands up. Playing the victim rather well, except for the lackadaisical attitude about the whole thing. There are some self-satisfied smiles exchanged between the four muggers, and the one with the knife moves forward, closing in even further on Alex.


Odds are, Alex has something planned, there's even a slight slowing to Samantha's steps as she realises the man is trying to draw knife-guy in. Maybe he knows how to defend himself? Either way, as far as Sammy can tell? He's just a guy and it's still four on one. Besides…it had been a long day. She'd made no effort to hide herself, but the woman wasn't exactly the most imposing figure and the would-be mugger's attention was elsewhere.

There's a slight, ever-so-slight flicker of blue behind her irises, face partially obscured by the rather plain hood of her coat but only thanks to the dark shadows of the evening. Maybe her rather calm enterance would make them hesitate, wonder who would go so lazily wandering into this little 'meeting', but regardless the blonde just casually reaches out to 'shove' the man with the knife backwards. A shove that would effortlessly send a grown man off his feet.


The first man to notice Samantha reacts too late. "Hey, wha-", and the knife-wielder doesn't realize what's happening until he's hurtling through the air, letting out a pathetic little yelp, and then a grunt of pain as he skids across the pavement, the knife rattling against the ground when he drops it. There are some shouts of 'mutant!' and 'get her!' before the remaining three divert their attention from Alex the girl who has proven herself a more credible threat. Alex, for his part, just stands, watching, his hands very slowly lowering again now that the attention isn't exactly on him.

More knives come out, and two of the men dive at Samantha, meaning to jab her full of holes if they can manage to make contact. The other stands back a moment, giving his compatriots a chance to do their thing before he gets into it with them. The one Samantha had so casually tossed aside like a rag doll starts to get back to his feet; the landing had scraped up his face pretty badly, and blood is dripping freely. He spits out a tooth, along with a few tablespoons worth of his blood, and looks to see his buddies starting on on the newcomer. He must be tougher than he looks, because he gets to his feet, and looks to Alex again; maybe he's hoping that even if mutant girl over there trounces his pals, he can at least finish the job he started, and the night won't be a total loss.


Samantha's not actually a bad fighter. She's no expert, but there were some perks to being an army brat even if the emergence of her abilities did offer reason for someone to grow a little sloppy. Samantha actually opened her mouth, hands up as she tries to speak a warning for the thugs to beat it when the first knife plunges into her side…and only makes it through the material of her jacket and shirt beneath before jolting wildly like it had just hit steel. Closing her mouth with a look of genuine suprise, the blonde actually takes a second to look between the pair. "I -just- got this!" she speaks in clear irritation, looking down at the slashed garment she'd only recently replaced.

Reaching out, the clearly super-human girl closes her fingers around the offending blade with suprising speed and squeezes, causing the metal to fracture and shatter. Squeezing harder as she brings her hand up, the woman opens her palm to reveal the ground-up metal. "It'll be your bones next, now beat it!" she barks, seemingly having turned her attention entirely to the two men who'd taken to knifing her and immediately forgotten about the man she'd thrown.


"Fuck this!" One of the men yells, having seen the girl take a knife to the stomach without it even penetrating her skin, and then crushing another one like it were paper. The two men who had been trying to kill her high-tail it out of the alley, and the third is visibly afraid, shaking in fact, which has nothing at all to do with Alex, for a change. He manages to find the courage to run too, though.

The remaining mugger, with his scraped up face and missing tooth, decides that if he's going to do it, he'd better do it quick; he runs at Alex, knife in hand, meaning to shiv the kid and make off with his money, hopefully before Strong Girl can get him. The knife comes at Alex, and he pivots just enough to avoid getting cut up, even as his attacker makes a few attempts in quick succession; each strike meets only air. Without a word, the blond youth intercepts the next attack, locking the man's arm with his own, and effortlessly breaking his wrist, causing him to drop the knife and scream in pain. "You should have run off with your friends," Alex mutters darkly to the man, holding him close with enough strength that even if he hadn't broken his wrist, he wouldn't be able to pull away easily. He flips his grip around, and forces the man to the ground, only to release him, brush his jacket off, and take a few steps toward Samantha, ignoring the would-be mugger entirely now. It could have gone /so/ much worse for him.

"Hey, thanks for the help," Alex says to the woman, his voice friendly and casual, not at all the tone of someone who just got attacked in an alleyway for no apparent reason. He doesn't even have a fast pulse, or any sign of nervousness or excitement. "Sorry about your jacket, though." He grimaces, motioning to the damaged garment. After not more than a moment's though, he's shrugging his own off, and offering it as a replacement. It is cold outside, after all.


Samantha's eyes are on the mugger, looking past Alex's shoulder but not taking a step to deal with him yet. His 'victim' wanted him released and wasn't beating him to a pulp, what right did she have to do it instead? Giving the man one last look she finally glances down at the slashed material and opening the coat to see the slice in the simple white shirt beneath. They'd been going for her gut, a brutal and rather painful way to die, yet another time to be very greatful for her genetics. "I should have expected more knives," she says with a sight, examining the cut a few more moments before his shrugging of his coat makes her look up and shake her head. "Thanks, but this'll be for nothing if you go freezing to death." Grinning, she pulls the hem of the shirt down just that little bit more and goes to zip the jacket up once more. "I'm uh…kinda bad at this whole thing, but then you looked like you might not have even needed the help. You serve?"


In truth, Alex considering breaking the man's neck and having done with it. But that was his father coming out. That the mugger is getting off with a broken wrist for his efforts is a mercy, and a big one at that. "Knives are popular," he says with a smirk. "Guns are a little more worrisome," especially since Alex isn't quite bulletproof, as he expects Samantha might be. "If after everything, a bit of cold weather is what does me in, I think I'd deserve my fate," he says, still holding the jacket out for the girl. The cold doesn't seem to bother him much, at least not yet. "I could have handled them, but it's kind of you to help. I appreciate it," he says with a soft smile. In point of actual fact, Samantha probably saved their lives; Alex wouldn't have been nearly so willing to let them off with their heads still attached if she hadn't been here. "Serve?" He asks, the question a little bit strange to him, but then he gets it after a moment. "Oh, no. Not military. You might say it's in my blood, though."


He's not wrong in his assumption about her being bulletproof, but she's not going to comment on it outright. Better to keep people guessing right? Seeing that he's insisting, there's a roll of her eyes but she'll take the offered jacket. Pride can take a backseat, the guy was clearly trying to do something nice and he -had- just been kinda mugged. In his blood? That actually makes the blonde woman smile. "I know what you mean, more then you might think."

Stepping to walk away now and continue on her path which for now seemed vaguely in the same direction as Alex, leaving the mugger to wallow on the ground, she tilts her head to the side. "I suppose we should be glad that they were nice and traditional then. Besides, guns are really noisy. Be kinda rude of them to wake half the neighbourhood up over a couple of bucks right?" grinning at her own off-humor, her eyes turn back towards Alex. "Think you'll be able to make it home without getting stabbed?"


"Very true, but I would guess they're not too worried about waking up the neighbours," Alex replies, and then looks down at the man still prone, nursing his broken hand. Not as tough as he might have seemed. Actually, he should probably get to a hospital. But then, Alex doesn't really care. "I should be okay," he says with a bit of a smirk. "Stay safe out there, Miss. Though I don't think you'll have much trouble." He gives the girl a nod, and heads off down the alley, in the direction he was going in the first place, before his very rude interruption.


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