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The season was coming in fast, sooner than anyone could blink, and here, in Mutant Town, were those that were a bit different could be themselves, were out and about. The times were changing, and the news wasn't getting any better, but, everyone must do as they wish to try and makes things a bit easier, at least for the children. Children were innocent, after all, regardless of how they were born into the world.
Setting up a small stall on the sidewalk is the petite mocha skinned girl with a crimson, woven headwrap, ratty jeans, scuffed boots, and what appears to be a new, tan jacket with fur inlay, and a blue scarf. The stall wasn't much of anything, but a chair, and some card board sign reading 'North Pole'. Under the protective cover of a blanket were a few wrapped up gifts, some with pretty ribbon, but mostly covered in basic paper used for packing meat. Already children, and grownups alike, were nosing about curiously. Would the big man /really/ make it to town just for them?
*
It seems that Lynette had the right idea. Raven joined in on the festivities with a little.. (read: Large) trip to Macy's. Hats and gloves, along with matching scarves were in duffle bags upon dufflebags. All stacked next to the stall that Lynette stood by. Raven had her own chair, the near hispanic, possibly italian, could be arabian woman settling in next to her with a very grand smile as the final bag was placed upon the ground. And the only way that Lynette would know it was her? (And not Sarah Shahi) Was the shifting of one eye that bore her natural yellow tint.
So after the children poke and pick around at Lynette's stall? They'll be met with a quick snatch of a hug and a quick press of the fabric to their skin because? If you're going to wear a hat, it has to look -damn- good! And Raven was going to bundle them -right- up!
*
Maybe it's because he's already so immature at heart, but Jamie and kids have never gotten on well. They don't like him, and he doesn't like them. But with both Raven and Lynette doing such charitable work on a cold day, Madrox couldn't really say no when asked to come along, by whichever of them made the request. Probably due to the need for extra hands to carry things. Because who's got more extra hands than the Multiple Man? Ain't nobody, that's who. So he did his part, he played the role of the cart-mule, and now he's just leaned against the wall of a building, a cigarette in one one hand. It's cold, gotta keep warm somehow. He watches the kids, their adult chaperones, and whatever interaction might be going on between 'Aunt' Raven and Lynette, quiet for now, himself.
*
It's hard to find good help somedays, and even if she seemed to have someone in mind to play 'Santa', they weren't showing. She'd greet the children with smiles and hugs, and then a gift all their own before leading them toward 'Raven's own setup. "Is he really coming to see us, Miss Lyn?""'Course he is, babies. Jus' give'm a bit, non? S'busy man dis time a'year." Lynette promises and offers each a gift in turn.
There's worry on her face, though, and a light frown as she glances up and down the street, allowing her tongue to flick out to 'taste' if he was on his way. Sady, his scent was no where to be found. Glancing back toward Jamie, she motions him over. "I need y'help. Y'gotta do me a fav'r. Vict'r ain't here. I don' know what he's doin', but he's suppose to be m'Santa f'de babies." She stresses, keeping her voice low and away from hopeful, tiny ears. "Y'gotta find me s'mbody, or do it y'self. Please."
*
One child was snatched up helpfully, and placed upon her hip as she takes a little break. More and more were mingling by Lyn's booth, so Raven had time at least to indulge. "We have to find the prettiest one for you.." The mutant child was green. Skin glistening due to the substance that leaks from her pores. It made her the sticky sorts, but Raven did not mind it too much, even the smattering of kisses she's gotten from the kid who.. stuck her lips to Raven's cheek, which she had to carefully pry off with her fingers. "Careful doll! Or I'll take you home with me!"
The little girl and her mother laughs, as Raven takes them towards a dufflebag, putting the girl down so that she could rummage through. She finds a colorful sort, and presses it against the girls coat with a shake of her head, and as she settles upon the ground, a smaller bag was revealed which contained knitting needles as well as yarn and plastic. "Maddy? You mind?" Yes, she was getting him involved too. He needed to hand out hats while Raven.. shockingly, begins to knit up something lovely for the little, sticky green girl and her mom.
*
Jamie blinks, and drops the cigarette into the snow, crushing it with a foot. "Wait, /Victor/ was gonna.." he almost full-on belly-laughs, but stifles it. That giant, clawed menace? Santa's supposed be jolly! Not murderous. And then Raven calls him over to help with the dispensations, and he lets out a resigned little sigh, "You know, I'm only one- wait, no I'm not," he says, and grins a bit. There's a stomp of his foot, and now we are two. One to play the jolly old elf, one to play an elf of a different sort. One moves to Raven, the other to Lynette, both ready and begrudgingly willing to help out as requested.
*
"Hey! Don' be laughin'." Lynette demands of the Madrox, finger in his face as if she were a scolding mother. Once he settles on helping she smiles, contently, and shoves a small bag on his chest. "Go g'dressed n'make a scene." Winking, she turns and beams at the children, starting to hand out the gifts as she had before. It wasn't much, none of it really, and truth be told, Raven's trip to Macy's was more than what Lynette tried by spending her own earnings on small do-dads from a corner shop in Harlem.
Before long, the streets are abuzz with giggly children and their families. Some fly about plains, others act like their favorite heroes that have been covering the front pages of newspapers, and comic-strips. Glancing at Raven's work, she smiles, sweetly, as her 'leader' and companion. She glances down once a boy with one eye tugs at her fingers. "Come play!" He insists, and with a nod, the mambo runs out and around.
*
Cain has arrived.
*
Perhaps Raven didn't put two and two together. So much for her being brilliant; for she was swayed by the wily ways of a green sticky child who helpfully climbs upon her lap to hold the hat that she intends to knit the contraptions too. "Good girl." Raven murmurs, then leans into her pocket to offer a bit of cash to her mother. "Hot chocolates for the both of you? And a meal?" The bit of cash? Possibly a thousand, more than enough for a few long nights of warmth and food upon the table.
The mother blushes and scurries on, while the other Thing 2 approaches. She gestures towards the hat and gloves, then points towards a waiting child. This sweet boy? He looks like a smaller version of Ben Grimm, but obviously handsomer.
*
Jamie doesn't exactly have the build for the Santa outfit. Fortunately, it comes with its own padding in the places where Jamie (thankfully) lacks it naturally. He slips away into an alleyway, away (hopefully) from prying eyes; not that Jamie has much in the way of modesty, but in the interest of maintaining the illusion that Santa is real, you know, for the kids. He changes into the red and white of the frozen north (Pole, not Canada), and when he emerges, he's managed to (mostly) fill out the recognizable suit. It's too big for him, but he's made do. "HO HO HO," he shouts loudly, merrily, as he walks toward the table. "I heard there were some kids here that needed a little bit of extra Christmas cheer!" She did say to make a scene, and Jamie's doing his best.
The other Madrox goes about the business of handing out hats and mitts, alongside Raven. The much easier job, this duplicate is thankful he didn't get saddled with the big red suit. But, with two Madri already, what's to stop the ladies from requesting another eight to play the reindeer, or another one to put on the Mrs. Claus getup? He may have set a dangerous precedent here. "Here you go, kid," he says to the next child in the queue, gingerly presenting them with what he assumes to be a hat and pair of mitts of the right size.
*
Cain apparently didn't get the message that Jamie was going to be Santa, because here he comes. His red suit is almost bursting at the seams, stretched over his truck-wide shoulders and bulging at the biceps. The big sack he has thrown over his shoulder jingles and jangles almost menacingly as it bounces against his back - he may have liberated a few items from a Neiman-Marcus last night. Through the wall.
The big beard contrasts sharply with his tan face, beady black eyes glaring out as he looks at the tiny children and their, to him, equally tiny parents, "Ho ho ho, come get your shit."
*
Two, two of them. The children, excited and screaming with joy stall. One has gifts, as does the other? "What did he say?" A girl asks of Raven and then a boy tugs at Lynette's fingers once more. "How are their two?" Blinking, she looks down at the boy and then up once more before parting her lips and explaining, "Well, how'd y't'ink he gets all dem presents out 'n Chris'mas?" Leaning down, she covers her mouth as if to share a secret, but her voice is loud enough for everyone to hear. "'s like you, n' ev'rybody here, petite." That makes amazing sense, and once again, the kids rush the pair, groups going from one Santa, to the next.
*
"Go get your shit." Raven says with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Hell, she was used to that talk from Cain. Growing up, he was never the sentimental sort, not even when they had a moments of privacy together. And even -that- was scarce. Damn bully. But she does smile towards him as she continues knitting for the girl, getting to a good space as she lifts her chin in the direction of the newly arrived bigger/smaller Santas.
"Go pretty girl, get your stuff. Your mom will be back soon."
*
Jamie's just starting to get into it when Cain arrives with all his bluster, and suddenly there are two very different looking Santas. Lynette's explanation seems to satisfy the younglings, and while Cain's arrival has him a bit startled, Jamie manages to roll with it. "He's my cousin," he'd tell one kid. "What other Santa, I don't see any in a big red suit but me!", he'd tell another. And thus, the two Santas manage to coexist, a well-perpetuated lie given further life by a series of smaller ones. "Second Santa needs to watch his fuckin' mouth," Jamie mutters to the nearest adult, trying his best to keep the foul language from reaching the ears of the children. Probably without much success.
*
Cain sees no need for there to be confusion, "Kid over there's got a face like a catcher's mitt and it's the two Santas givin' ya trouble? C'mon, it's the season o' friggin' miracles," he says. He unslings his sack and just pulls it open, half-dumping it on the pavement in front of him.
"One per rugrat. Don't get greedy. I'll remember that shit and write it down," he says, pointing a thick, white-gloved finger around. He overhears Jamie's muttering and raises an eyebrow, "Just remember, kids, don't talk crap behind the backs o' other elves, else the bigger elves might slowly unscrew yer little heads from yer shoulders."
The items are of mingled suitability. There's a train set there and a set of wooden soldiers and a cutting edge model helicopter. There's also a toaster often, a set of corkscrews and what appears to be a lamp in the shake of a ladies' stockinged leg.
*
Lynette moves toward the boxes, pretty and standard, and offers them to kids that jump their way, waiting and bouncing with a happiness they didn't get most of the time. Someone was thinking of them, more than just someone and it was great. The more Jamie speaks, and Cain, she offers them both a glare as if that would do, or change, anything. "I t'ink both Santas need t'jus' 'member what dey here f'r."
Still grinning, she zips around with the kids when she can, playing whatever make-believe they require, even slipping about the mush covered streets.
*
The young mother returns with hot chocolate for herself and the girls, the rest of the money pocketed away as Raven had hoped. The family will be safe this winter months, and the hat that she recently fitted with a pair of floppy ears were done. The girl was soon fitted with it, and allowed to play along with the others, in which Raven stands from the ground, dusting the snow and slush from her bottom. It was with a cool approach that she approaches the bigger Santa, yet fluid movements allows her to wind around him, the lithe woman winding upon a rather large shoulder in which she takes her perch to watch and lord over the area with a keen eye.
"Drop me, and I'll twist your fucking head off." She grins. She was kidding. Sort of.
*
Cain snorts, "You'd have to eat a lotta Christmas cookies to make me drop ya," he says to Raven. He meanders around, kind of poking kids towards stuff, "Look, there's a toy Camaro in there, get that thing. Chicks love fancy cars. Hey, you, don't break that, that's expensive, at least let your Ma sell it if you don't want the damn thing," he says.
He shakes his head, "Man, am I glad I do not have kids," he mutters under his breath. "You ever notice that? Santa don't have no kids. He and Mrs. Claus just have the reindeer an' their friggin' elf slaves. Santa gets enough kids 'round Christmastime."
*
Lynette had her own figure to carry on her back, but this was the dangling figure of a small child, their skin a stark contrast to her own. To and fro the kid swings about, giggling all the while as the mambo twirls and lowers the child back down, just in time for another to glomp up onto her shoulders. Madrox gets a smile, as does Raven, and even Cain, though the larger of the trio causes her face to soften with concern, and even uncertainty.
It's not until another child tugs at the girl's coat sleeve and asks her to 'do that thing you did' does she snap back into entertainment mode. Moving toward their collection of toys, she lowers down and wiggles her fingers. Her eyes shift, turning serpent like, as a few dolls and puppets begin to move on their own. Dolls dances, soldiers battle one another, and a show follows for the children who wanted to watch. The foursome could bet at this for hours, or until duty, or interest, calls them away for something else.