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The citizens of Mutant Town were starting to rebuild. Most lingered in their homes, fearful that some men would return, dragging them out through their front doors and line them up for another firing squad. But some still exit and return to work. Some pick up the pieces of ruined shops and stalls, helping their neighbors to battle against both the elements and their own, justified, fearful paranoia. Some buildings stand as only husks now, their burnt shells being all that remains of where someone use to call 'home'. Some blood still stains slush and white powder, but for the most part, the slaughter of that night has been washed away by both the weather itself, and the efforts of those who remain.
A boy whines at his mother, saying he needs to go play with his friend again. The mother pulls him aside, before giving his arm a maternal 'yank', leading him back to their house as she mutters, in a heavy tone, that it's 'not safe', and there's something she 'needs to tell' him. Anyone who enters the slum, that isn't a local, is met with a skeptical gaze, but is allowed to move as they please. It is known, however, that they are all being carefully watched. There is no law enforcement here, no added security; just mutants trying to pull themselves up from a night of horrors.
*
VX has arrived.
*
No law enforcement? Maybe. But there's the hellish thrum of a far too souped up engine rumbling down the street. Within a 1963 crimson Jaguar XKE, top down, is a man who certainly does not belong in this area. Julian Keller. Cutting edge fashion, hundred dollar haircut, impressive shades, the first impression many feel would be that he's just a human intent on rubbing things in. He does not particularly do anything to assuage this impression, simply continuing along while looking around carefully. Across damage and distraught mutants, expression not particularly moving. One arm hangs outside along the door, fingers clenching and relaxing as if on edge…
*
Julie is standing next to a fairly odd-looking contraption, which is parked somewhere near the community center or wherever else those doing without are keeping perishables or things or people who haven't gotten power back. Interestingly, that seems to be the purpose of the strange vehicle, which probably unceremoniously-exited its young life as a late-model Econoline van before something munched nearly every panel in it. Now, it's a bent-looking vehicle with its side and rear doors taken away, and everything else replaced by some bent steel pipe to hold up the roof. Mounted in the resulting space are an extra engine, this one facing backwards, and something very engine-looking connected to it by a series of pulleys, a gas tank from a semi on one side, and on the other. Also there are electrical boxes, meters,gauges, cords, and outlets. As well as a throttle that looks like it came from a powerboat. Diz is holding up a household fuse, a big old tube type. Explaining something to some of the other people gathered around. "It's not as complicated as it looks, really, you just gotta watch out for these. They break for a reason, that means you're drawing too much."
*
There is no official law enforcement sure, but VX is more than happy to show people his own version of justice if it comes to it. Just like he did that night when he was one of the few mutants that fought back against the hatred of the humans. He is without his harley today, instead just walking through the streets with a confident but measured gait his eyes scanning the environments as only those with knowledge of how to commit violence really can. There is not much he can to do help these people, he is not an engineer or electrician nor can he provide clean water. Bbut he can do his bbest to make sure they are safe. He stops as he comes across the strange contraption that Julie is demonstrating, leaning against the wall and watching quietly.
*
Sammy was technically an outsider. She didn't live in mutant town and unlike some, her mutation was easily hidden. The blonde woman could easily stay away and likely never be noticed as a target for the FoH's hate. At least until they ran out of other people to pick on and attack.
She was however, able to help. Volunteering at a clinic in Harlem was one thing, but when the town had suffered what it had? She was going to lend a hand treating the wounded. She hadn't been there for the violence, just like she hadn't been there to stop the massacre months before. If nothing else, as she moved about checking bandages and patching people up where she could, at least she could feel like she was doing something.
*
Some watch as the shiny car moves about, their expressions twisting up in confusion at the queer sight; a rich man with the top down on a car during the winter? Some people turn, muttering to one another, but other wise, leave Julian to his own devices.
Others gather around Julie, paying the upmost attention to her lecture and lesson. Some chime in with questions, as other request a bit more detail. Some seem more than comfortable with the machine and its uses, as they were mechanics and not novice with wires themselves. "Will we need any special tools to handle this machine, Miss?""Is it easily repaired until we get our own grids back up and running?"
Having noticed VX's return, an older man moves up to his side and gives him an approving pat on his back. "You did good the other night." He wheezes, as some thick, charcoal like substance rolls down his cheeks and dribbles from his lips. He pats it away with a soiled handkerchief and then clears his throat. "Thank you for all you've done. If you and that big beast man weren't here…it's hard to tell what might have happened."
A number of patients move through Sammy's dutiful hands. Most have minor wounds and seem to be well on the mend.
*
The heavy roar of the Jaguar approaches where the people are set up around Julie's little display piece. It slows down to a thrum, pulling over to the curb. Julian glances around with a look of near impatience, slowly twisting his neck until a low pop is heard. "Sup?" he offers, leaving the engine running in a hearty, near-distracting purr. Definite that none of the surrounding people seem all that comfortable…
*
Julie nods to one of the fellows there. She's certainly counting on there being some competent people, particularly electricians, in any given neighborhood, including Mutant town. Indicates the engine that drives the generator, "That's just the best Ford four cylinder I could find, should go good a long while. I left a bunch of extra belts underneath to get to the generator, but those come off… Bigger Fords, easy to get more. The generator, well, I'm already looking for new brushes but those come off a welding truck along with some of these meters. They ought to hold a while, though. Just, ah, don't try to weld nothing *and* be plugged into house current at the same time, that really won't work and that's a big tank of gas right there."
*
Vx nods to the older man a clear look of surprise on his face that anyone recognized him, let alone thanked him for his actions that night. He shakes himself out of his thought and does his best to give the man a small grin "It was nothing. I was just doing what i could to help my brother and sister mutants out. If we don't stand together then divided we will fall. Unity is the only way to stand against hatred and bigotry." His eyes adjust rapidly at the loud roar of that engine coming up on them, his hands clenching into fists at his side. People don't just drive cars like that into places like this for no reason. He breathes deeply a couple of times to calm himself not wanting to flex his power just yet. He moves towards the man in the jaguar, moving his way easily through the people.
*
The sports car hauling through what's only a small step above a ghetto? That earns a little raised eyebrow from the 'medic' that's busy checking on people. Her supplies are low and she's in the midst of flicking off a pair of rubber gloves. Disposable alternatives had only existed for a month, but she'd taken a box and made use of them.
Stepping away from the injured that are mostly under control for a moment she leans against one of the nearby walls, listening in on the close-by conversations. Abilities be damned, this was still tiring work.
*
What did he say? Clearly, VX wasn't the only one that had noticed Julian, and had kept a watchful eye on him and that rumbling hunk of metal. "What's yoru bag, man?" A gruff looking teen questions of the expensive looking chap. He, and a few others around the same age, but of different builds, heights, weight, and probably mutants, question as they circle his car.
"You trying to mock us, is that it?"
"Coming in here looking like. Bet that thing is all show and no go."
"I'd beat it if I were you, chicken head."
The group with Julie collectively chuckle at her advice. Blowing fuses was pretty easy to do, after all, and the light sound of levity was well, and truly, welcomed. One young man with two sets of eyelids clears his throat gently, and offers Julie a tender smile. "Thanks for all your help, miss. I, well, I'm the town's electrician when need be. Pop use to do it, but he, well…he's laid up since the attack. Would you like to check the rest of the town's boxes while you're her? I mean, if you want to?" He stammers, a faint stain of crimson rising to the tops of his cheeks. The sound of the car isn't missed on the group with Julie, either, as they turn and focus on it; most glaring.
*
Julie meanwhile, is picking out people, mostly older men, who are asking the right questions and such, since that's exactly the kind of people she learned these things from, by and large. She's sort of ended up teaching, but eventually laughs. Brooklyn accent and all, "I dunno, maybe you ought to check *my* work, here, but I could try helping out there." Pipes up, a bit there, "Ok, though, come to any doubt about running the electrics on this thing, he's Con Ed. He's Con Ed. He's Con Ed. I tried to leave notes but we'll be sure they know what they're doing. Everyone I guess pick a helper to learn," Unspoken is, 'In case this happens again.' That Jag engine really does tear her attention away, though. That's twice in this neighborhood with those engines. Tilts her head and gives Julian a noncommittal wave. That's an odd sight, in general.
*
Julian looks fairly insulted, really. A sour expression flows across his face, lifting his nose as if to look down on the group of teenagers. "Excuse me?" he states, brows going upwards. "What the shit is YOUR problems? All I've done is pull up in a car and say 'sup'. This how you treat people now?" Chicken head?! That gets his blood boiling a bit more. It takes a lot of effort to suppress himself, although there's a strange sense of static in the air. "Why don't you all /step back./"
*
VX steps forward now a step ahead of the teens that clearly have a pretty clear reason to be upset at somebody like that rocking up after they have already been attacked, and even before that their living conditions were nothing to be boasted about. He lets out a low growl as a couple of swirls of yellowish smoke escape from his clenched hands. "Why don't you just hope back in your car and drive away. You clearly don't belong in this neighbourhood. What did you come down here to laugh at the mutants?" VX is doing a better job at controlling his emotions now then he did the other night even if his face is set in anger. "You wouldn't want anyone taking and selling your car to rebuild a couple of these houses now would you?"
*
"There has been enough violence," Sammy speaks up, buttoning up her bag of limited supplies she keeps slung over one shoulder and moving towards the angry rich guy and the 'smoke hands' mutant. "Enough people injured and enough people tearing each other apart." She looks between those gathered, then a glance towards Julie where she'd worked with the crowd. "Lets try to avoid bringing more fights down here if we can."
*
"What is he saying?"
"God this guy's such a square."
"Lame."
"Prick…" The teens mutter, but step back once they notice VX turn up and speak for them. A couple of the boys, however, do have angry looking women show up behind them, tugging them away by their ears and grumbling at them as they squirm and flail. No thug is brave against the wrath of their mother.
The young man who had been speaking with Julie thins his lips as she looks away, and waves, to the far better looking man in his car. Frowning, he brushes his fingers through his hair and nods. "Right." He swallows and then returns his attentions to the machine in question, with a few other members of the group, going over what they had learned and staying out of the way of…whatever was happening with the people around the Jag.
There's some chatter here and there, comments of 'seeing him' before, the car, and questioning where someone named 'Josh' is. For the most part, there's physical unrest, but without motion behind it. People mutter, talking between themselves, and glancing Sam's way after she suggests that, maybe, just maybe, more violence isn't the answer.
*
Julie filters out from the little crowd she's drawn, having wrinkled her lip at something Julian said. She seems to notice Sam for a moment, then VX and his smoking hands. "I would guess, rich boy, it's cause this ain't your neighborhood, who knows what a sup is supposed to be, and call me a cynic but I think your middle carburetor's a bit leaned out. Could be time to make like a tree around now. No one's impressed."
*
Shifting, Julian moves to hop over the door of his car, having been driving with no seatbelt. Thumping down opposite, he flicks the open vest of his primo top shelf club outfit, sneering a bit. "No, no." the man offers, holding up a hand towards Samantha. "He's asking me a /perfectly valid question./ Why am I here. You wanna know? You REALLY wanna know?" Suddenly he yanks off his glasses, and there's a flash of emerald light. He discards the shades, and they slowly hover, swirling with green light, before vaporizing. "I'm a fucking Mutant just like you. Thought I'd come down and watch your fucking backs. But this the way you treat someone you don't know, huh…? That's no better than /them./" He angrily yanks open his jaguar door, thumping back into the driver's seat and slamming it. There's a crackle of energy that sends chips of paint flying. "Fucking shit!!"
*
"Being a mutant doesn't excuse you being a prick." VX shrugs his shoulders, his eyes fixed on Julian. "Nor does it excuse your arrogance or your aggression in the face of a bunch of teenagers." The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk "And maybe if you were actually interested in helping those of us that are in the ghettos maybe you should show it with deeds, not words. They go alot further. As does money, which as you can see." He holds both of his hands out by his side and turns slightly "Not a lot of people here have. But you clearly do." He shakes his head at the mans reactions "Fucking children with power."
*
"People we don't know?" Sammy, who seems to be trying to maintain peace. "People we don't know, and who don't know us are the ones who marched in here, murdered innocent people just for what's in their blood. Of course people are hostile, people are scared…" An exhaled breath and she holds up both her hands, putting herself in the middle of the 'chaos'. "Can we all just…relax for a second?"
*
Most people here didn't have powers; they were just different. Some differences were unable to be ignored, leading them to seek refuge in this pit of the city that few even acknowledged existed. The display of power causes some to shrink up; power plus rage was never a good sign. Some frown, some mutters apologies, and others continue on their way. They had other things to attend to.
The old man who had thanks VX earlier, shuffles up closer to the small group of people, a hand pressing to VX's back as he offers a sickly smile toward Samantha and Julie. Another cough and sputter, more ashen fluid exits his tear ducts and mouth before he cleans them away and rolls phlem from his throat. "Young man," he then addresses Julian. "Explaining yourself without anger will get you far in the world. If you are friend, we accept your friendship, but…we're scared, and not without some paranoid prejudices ourselves. Some of us are good, some of us are bad. If you're good, we accept you, and thank you, for your protection." Another cough, he eyes Julian with a weary expression. "We're all just tired, son."
*
Julie seems to agree with Samantha on that. And the old guy crying ashes. Says. "I think I get it," she says. Julian's disintegrating things including perhaps his own paint job, so a conciliatory note does seem called for. She approaches the vehicle, says to Julian. "Hey, hey, get off the gas there, what was you expecting, a tickertape parade? Try to put it back in the bottle." She frowns a bit and looks Julian over a bit. "I think I just met some people who can help you with that there. Meantime, you're challenged. Let's call it Long Island by May." She drops a creamsicle orange poker chip on the passenger seat.
*
Julian remains within his car, revving up the engine. "Tell me this, jackass." he offers towards VX. "A guy who looks different comes in, and before you give him a chance to reveal whether he's friend or foe, you turn on him. That sound familiar? Maybe just a GODDAMN LITTLE BIT?" He gestures at the teenagers as well, spitting out the side upon the street. "You should all be fucking ashamed. This is the mutual prejudice that'll make the war everyone's scared to death of." He does soften when the old man begins to speak though, but green energy is crackling along his knuckles and his eyes continue to glow brightly. "So this is 'my people', huh? That's what a lot of people are trying to say…" He just gives a slow shake of his head.
*
VX shakes his head at the man infront of him, if he can be called that. "Wake up kid. The war has already started. You just haven't been down in the trenches for it. But no you come cruising in here acting like you own the place after we have all been attacked, when people are mourning the deaths of their loved ones. And you expect us all to welcome you with open arms rather than suspicion and anger?" He growls lowly under his breath as the man continues to speak responding to the old man that had thanked VX for his actions, the smoke curling from his fists going slightly more yellow in colour. "Your people are who you choose to be your people. If you don't want us to be your people, if you don't want to be seen with us and fight in our trenches. Then go and scurry back to wherever it was that you came from." He turns to regard the older man when he has finished speaking doing his best to reign in his palpable anger. "Thankyou for your support. You are right we are tired. And angry."
*
Nerves are frayed, people are injured, scared and tired. Half of them are probably expecting their attackers to make another attempt at any moment. Why was it that catching runaway buses was easier then catching runaway tempers? Samantha just sighs, running a hand through her hair and seemingly at a loss for further words.
*
The old man frowns toward Julian. His expression now apologetic, understanding, yet still gaunt. "Young man," he murmurs once more. "I cannot, and will not, apologize for everyone. Those boys lost fathers that night. Brothers, too. Almost everyone here was affected. Fear causes the mind to jump at every shadow, even expensive looking ones. Be angry, if you like. It's your right to be, after all. But, being understanding, is another option." Turning, he starts to shuffle off toward one of the homes. One of which happened to belong to a now livid mother, arguing with her son. The noise is loud when the door opens, and then muffles once it shuts.
*
Julie says, pointing at the chip she just tossed in the seat. "No powers, neither. That should go without saying." Cause rules. She points at burned out homes and shops and all kinds of other reasons why no one's in much mood to sympathize with Julian. She says. "See all that, that's a whole lot of lives that don't care about you having a snoot about manners right now, or what you think of yourself whether you're mutated or not. But I do know a guy. Really. Interested? I could be at the Living End in the Village some Saturday nights. For now, how's about we try this again later." She stretches out a few fingers, click, click, and the key turns in the ignition to start the Jag's engine. "Maybe we try the rest of this some other time."
*
"I was coming here to /help./" Julian repeats, thumping the wheel of his car. Another whisk of telekinetic energy cracks the front of the windshield. "But I get it. I'm too good to come down here. Prove that the upper class isn't gonna ignore abused mutants. And I'm sure sorry my parents were gonna donate money to rebuild. At /my/ urging. Also, buddy." He points towards VX. "You would get along GREAT with the Brotherhood. Look them up." He then glances down, picking up the orange pokerchip. The jaguar is already on, though, so Dizzy's little trick is lost on him. "You're on. Living End. Saturday." he offers to Julie, before hitting the gas and speeding down the street once more.
*
VX just smirks at the mention of the brotherhood, sometimes people really do get it right on the nose don't they. He shakes his head with a low and dangerous sounding chuckle "If you could look past your own arrogance and instead at what i actually said i already said that, that is what you should have shown when you came down here. Fool." He turns away as the man speeds off, his hands stretching out some of his knuckles popping as he stretches out the tension. The 'smoke' that was issuing from his hands dissipating in a moment. He shakes his head as he walks away. "Upper class. What a fucking twat."
*
Samantha just sort of…stands there. As others walk away, her fatigue had been a bit too much to come back with any more responses or wisdom. Instead she just slumps back to her leaning against the nearby wall and closes her eyes, exhaling a breath. They'd managed not to fight, inflict more damage. That was enough of a victory for her.