|
  |
Another cold morning in Mutant Town. Another day of rebuilding and cleaning up after the massacre that hit the often small, and quiet town. They didn't bug anyone, and thankfully, most people just 'forgot' that this slum in the city existed. Sadly, that was no longer an option. The people here had lost family members, neighbors, businesses, homes, security, but still, they persist and continue on each day. Off to the side of the road where a fire squad had taken place is a collection of beautiful flowers, pictures, and lit candles, who's flames are constant, but flickering due to the wintery winds.
The people here had seen a number of others step up and aid them. Some were mutants, like them, others were mutants but no one could tell. Some were humans, others were…perhaps there to help, but paranoia and fear blinded that possibility, turning it to prideful rage. The people here are fearful, rightfully so, but so far, a majority are welcoming in the small neighborhood, allowing others to come and go as they please.
*
Kitty is no stranger to Mutant Town. When her and Piotr had opted to move away from Westchester, it'd been a community they'd discussed at length. It only got shut down because Jewish memory remains strong for the Pryde family; creating communities designed for specific groups of people has always left a bad taste in her mouth.
With her hands shoved deeply into her jacket pockets, Kitty slides about the collection of flowers, tokens, and pictures. Her lips turn down as her eyes flit across the personal effects. Not even the brightest optimist can find a sense of peace here. Among the hope and desire to move forward, a layer of something else remains: no matter how much they do, no matter how much work people like Kitty put into protecting the public, hatred is a stone's throw away.
She inhales a deep breath as her gaze trains on one of the ever lit candles. She finally draws out a piece of paper, a small offering in comparison. The folded note is never opened, and instead is added to the collection before she takes a single step back and glances over her shoulder.
Ghosts live here.
*
Some that have seen her before off the girl a nod in passing. Some wave, and some even provide her a warm, yet tired, smile. Most go about their business however, as some families simply watch the world from behind the protection of their home's windows.
Down the street walks a young boy with obsidian skin and blazing eyes of burning embers. Dressed in a heavy coat, gloves, pants, boots, scarf, and a flatcap, he pulls behind him a beat up, partialy rusted, Radio Flyer wagon. Setting in the wagon are some boxes, each with a family name written across them.
Now and then he stops, knocking on people's doors and offering a box, usually with a bright smile, and even removing his cap to expose his bald head. As he continues along, he spots the X-man and then heads her way. His eyes stare for some time, silenty working out how he remembered her. "Hey," he waves gently. "Are you that Kitty girl?"
*
Kitty manages a lopsided smile and a vague nod at being recognize. "Yeah, I'm Kitty." She reaches a hand to squeeze the boy's shoulder. She cranes her neck and peers over the boy's shoulder. "Quite the collection," she says easily enough while she spies the boxes. "Can I help?" It's an easy enough question. She's not likely to do more than the kid, but sometimes company is pleasant regardless.
"So…" her voice cracks slightly, "you around when things went…" her lips twist to the side, it's an impossible question to ask a kid and even as the words are out, she chooses not to ask it, switching tracks to, "…you're really brave." She issues him a soft smile. "Most of the world has decided to hide, and here you are. Delivering packages."
*
"I remember seeing you here before. Tony, down at the shop, he told me your name." Beaming contently at his correct assessment, he turns and tugs at the handle of his wagon to draw it closer. "Hard to forget such a pretty girl around this place." Smooth, kid. Smooth.
Nodding, he starts pulling the bundles along and keeping a slow pace so that Kitty can keep her strides along with him. "Sure. I'm just taking these to a few houses. Mama packed them up for them. She use to work with medicine here. She still does, but she can't walk now." He explains openly. The question, however, caues him to stall and nod.
"Yeah. I was told to hide, but, I was watching from the roof of my house." Glancing up to Kitty, his smile returns, but it's reserved now. "Thank you, miss, but I'm not brave. I'm just living, and doing what mama says to."
*
"And what's your name?" Kitty asks quietly. But then, with a sly easiness, she adds, "Just so I can let the boyfriend know who gives him a run for his money." Her lopsided smile turns dimpled. She falls into step with the kid and nods. "You'll have to thank your mother for all of us. We always have choices. We can let fear divide us or bring us together."
The notion of the kid watching from his house causes her lips to grown slightly. "What happened? I mean… I read the news but…" she shrugs.
*
"Jimmy." He grins, even being so bold as to offer Kitty a wink. "Gee, really?" He then wonders at the very idea of giving anyone a run for their money. "Golly. Don't get me in trouble, ok? I'm not the type of guy to just steal someone's girl." Glancing back at his parcels, he nods and rolls his tiny shoulders, readjusting his jacket and scarf.
"I agree. Some people talk about those guys running around, wearing little X's on their suits? Like the Avengers, but not? And then there's the Brotherhood, too. They're good people. Strong, too. Maybe when I get older, they'll accept me, too." He voices his 'dreams' aloud. Then, she asks that question many people have asked from the outside.
"Um…well. I was having dinner with my folks. They heard glass breaking and told me, and Gracie, my little sister, to hide. We're use to people being mean to us, but this felt different. Like in your gut?"
Pausing at a house, he excuses himself and passes along another package. Once back to walking, he falls silent for some time, the wheels of his wagon squeeking. "Fires started. Buildings were broken into. Ruined. They started hurting people, these guys with bats and crowbars. Some had guns."
*
Kitty grins, "Don't worry. Pete may look tough, but he's gentle as a lamb." She winks. But moving beyond the idea of boyfriends she nods.
But then the words track elsewhere. To what happened. Her expression turns somber and she nods slightly. "I know that feeling. I get it sometimes. My hair turns on end. I get shivers." Her lips twitch downwards. "So these fellows… what did they look like? They just came and started busting things? No motivation otherwise?"
*
"I couldn't see all of them. It was too dark." He frowns, stopping at another house, and offering another box to an appreciative mutant. This one looks as if she belongs in the ocean, more so than dry land. The door shuts, and back to walking they go.
"Oh, no, miss. They hate us. We don't belong to them. That's what that one guy was saying. He spoke louder than the rest. I think, maybe he was the leader?" If people like them had just one. Flexing his fingers, he rubs at the nape of his neck and then slips his hand into his coat pocket. "He said we just took and took. That we were the real trouble for humans. He-he said that he couldn't kills us all, but he'd make us wish we were dead." Pausing at a curb, the boy stands and starts to shake, his swirling eyes settling up on Kitty's visage. "He told them to make an example of us. T-then they started pulling people into the streets and sh-shooting them." Once the way was clear, he starts crossing the road. "A couple of mutants were here, fighting them back. A guy that made gases, and some big guy that was like a jungle cat."
*
Kitty nods at the description. "So they dragged people out and killed them." She swallows hard. "It's good that you had help — that someone tried to intervene." She shoots him another lopsided smile. "You know their names at all? I'd like to follow up with them." Her hands bury deeper into her pockets. "We can't live in fear, and making these guys know…" her gaze turns back to the memorial "…that they can't get away with this." She shrug. "I just want to keep all of you safe. We need a strategy to nip this in the bud, bring those guilty to justice, and keep it from happening again."
*
"Mmhmm. They were brave. Others of us were brave, too. Just some of the townsfolk here, even the ones without powers." He explains, proudly. "Yup! The one that made gases, old Coal Man called him VX. And the big guy? This girl with big hair and snake eyes calls him Victor. He looks mean, but he's really not."
Kitty's offer has him smiling, but it's one that doesn't fully believe, or carry much hope in the idea. "I don't think we'll be safe for a long time. We can try, right?" Stalling, he turns and faces Kitty directly. "How, though? Papa says that the cops don't really care about people like us. How do you get justice for what happened if it's not, well, like Biblical justice? Eye for an eye, right?"
*
There's a long moment that Kitty stares at the boy. "We make them listen. We get support where we can find it. I have a friend, he's a reporter, he follows up with stories like this one. He helps make people care." Her chin drops. "An eye for an eye just makes the whole world blind. But we find them. We do our own investigation. We help our own communities, and we change minds whenever we can." Her cheeks puff out with an exasperated breath. "We get the X-Men to help. We can do this. Honestly."
*
Jimmy continues to stand, staring at Kitty and watching her attentively while she speaks. His lips thin, and fill out naturally, and his body gives a light 'rock' in place as the winds kick about and his child like limbs request movement. "You can still see with one eye, miss." He offers gently in regards to the old saying. Even so, he can only nod to her, but his gaze isn't fully trusting. At least not yet. "Well, I hope you're right, Miss Kitty."
*
And Kitty doesn't miss the gaze. There's lots she wants to say; reassurance she wants to give. But the words find loss. She doesn't want to scare the kid, and so she talks about it vaguely instead, "I've seen it before. They've done terrible things to us because they don't understand. But every time, every single time, good people have stepped in and created change." She wants to explain that she's evidence of it. That they disappeared her. That she was experimented on. That she had choice, and she called them out. That Weapon X paid for what they did to people like them. But the words remain unspoken, instead she reaches out to squeeze his shoulder again, "If we respond with violence, if we work outside the law, they'll up the ante. It turns into a long-term standoff."
*
Regardless of his brave face, the information he provides, or the streets that he walks with his back straight and shoulders square, she can feel that he's trembling under her touch. It could be the cold, it could be his memories, or it could be everything in his mind, tangling and processing on its own. "Wh-what if they come back?" He finally asks, frowning deeply. "What if they kill more of us? Or finish off my mama? Or Gracie?" Sniffling, he furrows his brows and then relaxes them. "Do we fight back then? Those men ran away after being beat on last time. How…how does talking help? Your reporter friend, how can he make people care when they don't already?"
*
"St. John Allerdyce is one of us," Kitty replies. "The political pressure the government experienced as a result of what he wrote? They stopped a program that was hurting people like us," or in this case, specifically Kitty herself. "Then you call." There's a long pause. "Or…" her jaw tightens. "I'll stay. I'll call Pete." Her eyebrows lift, "He'll come here after work. He's an old softie, but he's rather uh… intimidating." Kitty herself is probably more formidable than her beau, yet he's huge. And metallic at times. "We will set up a vigil of our own. At least for now." SHe's entirely certain Piotr won't deny her this. "I know I don't look scary, but I'm more talented than I look."
*
Jimmy's lips thin once more, and his chin bunches up as his face twists up, fighting that bubbling mixture of both anger and fear that starts to burn at the bridge of his nose and across his eyes. At length, he nods. A sniffle later, he drags the sleeve of his jacket under his nose and starts walking again, dragging the wagon behind him. "I'm trusting you, Miss Kitty." He tells her softly, and glances her way once more. "Sometimes, the nice looking ones are the scariest of us all. Lots of things hide in deep, still waters. At least, that's what Old Coal Man says."
*
Kitty actually emits a mirthless chuckle, "I wish he was wrong. Believe me, there are things," but she doesn't finish the thought, instead managing a more sincere smile, she notes, "You're not alone. This community isn't alone. It is defended. It will be defended. We will protect it."