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Weekends are for shopping. At least, that's what Sam told himself this morning when he realized he needed some new pants. He had pulled a pair onto him, only realize there was a giant hold in the left leg. The second pair he tried on had one in an even more embarassing place. This is the price you pay for buying cheap, and then wearing them until they couldn't take any more. But he certainly wasn't going to go anywhere on his own, and so who better to ask along than Jean? It's not like they'd even have to go into the city, just to one of the stores in town, where he could replace the ruined garments quickly, but most importantly, cheaply. And they'd been successful, walking out of the store with a couple bags in hand; Sam had even picked up another couple of shirts, because the ones he has are starting to look like they've seen better days. Not that he won't wear the ones he has until they're rags, but it's good to have a couple more on hand. But when they came out of the store, in the parking lot a small group of men had gathered, talking angrily amongst one another.
*
Shopping?! Jean was no fashionista, but she'd never turn down a good shopping trip. There were fabrics that she needed to by, items and utensils for her sowing machine, books and patterns that were all found at the store in which she had abundance of, along with the clothes that were bought for Gabriel and Sam. Sure, she had a hand in picking out some white t-shirts for her friend, maybe even offering up a new pair of socks that.. if rejected? Were stuffed in the bag and paid for anyways.
But even as they exit the store, Jean pays no mind to the angry tones. This was New York, this place ran on a perpetual engine of anger, hell. There was a really, huge green monster that plagued the streets a few weeks back, so there was that. "We need to get groceries next." Jean tells Sam, holding open her bag to look inside. "And I need a hammer."
*
"Lead th' way," Sam says with grin, motioning for Jean to do just that. The sounds of the men talking in such upset tones gains his attention, but he's just as keen to ignore them as Jean seems to be. They had other things to do, and butting their nose into the business of others wasn't on the list of errands.
"I tell you, though, and it's not like I hate mutants, but maybe they had it coming.. the Friend of Humanity sure didn't go in there to start a fight, it was just a peaceful demonstration until those mutants started usin' their powers on 'em. Heard one of 'em turned himself into poison gas? Another one with claws was just guttin' men like fish? You ask me, mutants like that? They need to be put down, and fast," one of the men tells the others, waving his hands around to accentuate his point. The others agree emphatically with disgruntled affirmations and nods. "Why should we worry about mutant rights, when they're killin' regular folk without any consequences?"
Back to Sam and Jean, where Sam at least has overheard a lot of what was said, and a glower grows on his face. "Ah don't think they went in there for a peace rally or a sit-in," he grumbles, casting a glance toward the group. "Someone oughta set these fella's straight about that," he says to Jean directly, but then heaves a sigh, not wanting to cause a scene, but…
*
Jean was keen to do just that! Making her way towards the car that they drove in on, well, that Sam had drove.. and right towards the trunk. Surely she could hear what the men were saying, but she's trying her best to ignore it, by putting on a smile as she passes by the group and keeping her head down along the way. But.. it stung. So much so that Jean's cheeks burned a little bit red, and stops at the back of the car to place the bags upon the ground to wait for Sam to open the trunk.
"I know Sam.." Jean says quietly, drawing up a hand to lightly grasp his arm. "They're just people. We all are. I don't think that they would care or understand if we try to tell them the truth of what happened." At least she was being honest. It was really a harsh truth of it all. Could she blame him from wanting to set things straight? "We.. we just have to look the other way when people talk like this. Okay?"
*
"Ah know, it's just.. if everyone looks th' other way, how does anythin' get any better?" Sam says with a frown as they pass. He opens the trunk, and places his bags inside before turning to take Jean's and set them inside next. "We're all just people.. but it's not fair f'r th' victims to be made out to be th' bad guys.." He sighs, and looks over to the group of men.
"I'm serious, boys. If I met a mutant out here, I sure wouldn't be shy about telling him what I thought about him and the trouble his kind were causing. You ask me, we should round 'em all up and make sure everyone knows who and what they are.. badges or something. So us regular folks can avoid 'em if we want. Be safer for everyone that, way, am I right?"
*
"It doesn't." Jean states, "But these people are not the authority. They are just a smaller part of the bigger picture, and while all parts matter.." She sighs softly. "There's nothing that we can do right now that'd change their minds.." She frowns a little, holding the trunk upright, though her ear does turn to the conversation which makes her shake her head. "I know we're all just people.. and look. There are some of us who think the same of them but.."
Once the bags were in the trunk, she reaches out to take Sam's hand. "Get in the car. Alright?" There was no telling what she was going to do, but her green eyes do brighten as she uses her gift upon herself ever so briefly. It was.. possibly something that she shouldn't have done, cutting off the pain receptors in her brain, creating a feeling of bliss that washes along her bones as she pulls her hair from the ponytail that she wears. "I'll prove it to you. Nothing we say or do will make a difference.."
*
Sam knows that look. "Jeannie, don't," he says almost pleadingly. He certainly didn't mean for Jean to be the one to aggravate the situation. If anyone was going to make a scene, and take the brunt of the consequences, it should be him. "Ah'm comin' with you," he says with conviction, refusing to get into the car. He's not just going to let Jean go and get herself into trouble while he sits idly by. Not his style. If she's going to kick the hornet's nest, he's going to be right there to help swat them down when they swarm.
*
"Sam, I said get in the car!" But she wasn't going to stop him, no. If he wanted to be apart of it, then she wasn't going to impose her will upon him. At least not right now. What she does is lift her fingers to press against her temple, slowly approaching the men as she pinpoints exactly where their minds were. In their minds, she changes her own appearance, creating something of a cloak or an outer shell in which they could visibly see.
To them, she'd clearly be a mutant; her hair was colored black, her skin slightly tanned but with a rocky essence to it. Two horned points rest atop of her head, and her nails were thick that curled underneath her fingers. Her teeth were slightly jagged and crooked, but otherwise, she was a slightly pretty thing by mutant standards. Even if she were threatening, she still possessed the innocence that lay behind her eyes.
"Hello.." She says as she approaches the group. "I'm sorry, but did you say Friends of Humanity?" She asks. "I.. I couldn't help but over hear. And I'd like to offer up my opinion on the matter, please.."
*
Sam follows her toward the group, that concerned look remaining on his face. This is a bad idea. He was perfectly willing to confront them himself, but putting Jean at risk wasn't something he was ever going to be okay with. And not because he doesn't think she can't handle herself, but because you just don't let a lady put herself in harm's way. You just don't.
The group of men, and the one who was talking the loudest in particular, stop their conversation to look at Jean in her illusioned state. There's a look of shock that comes over most of their faces, which transforms very quickly into one of subtle anger. "Fuckin' freak," the loudest among them spits. "You better get out of my face.. in fact, get out of our town. You and your mutant-lovin' boyfriend over there," he says, motioning to Sam with a wave of his fist. "Long as you and your kind are killin' normal folk, I don't give a rat's ass what your opinion is," he says angrily, puffing himself up as much he can to look threatening.
"Hey, you can't talk to a lady like that!" Sam shouts; he can't see what Jean's made herself look like to these men, obviously. How they knew she was a mutant, he hasn't really considered. This elicits laughter, and some more cursing, from the men.
*
While Jean would be scared, she knows that she'd be safe. And that was a cosmic knowledge, for there was a slight press upon her shoulder that causes it to sink as if she were sad. The name calling does sting, but she tries to hold true to the illusion, even attempting a smile that nearly seems petrified, yet held out in the face of possible danger. "I just wanted to talk.." She starts out, the angry words flying, even Sam's shout causes her to lift a hand to press to his chest in attempts to push him back.
"We're not killing you, we just want to be left alone.." Jean protests, even through the laughter. "..we just want to grow up, we want to learn and we want to work just like you! We want to help people, and love people, and.. and make things with our hands to be proud of! I.. you wouldn't say that to the blacks, would you? Or to the Italians or the Irish! We're all the same! Just the same oppressed people who just want to live their lives and be happy!"
*
There's a murmur of, "Fuckin' Irish.." from the group of men, but it'd be impossible to determine which one said it amongst the muttering. Apparently they're not too concerned about hiding their prejudices. It's a bunch of anglo-saxon males, what did you expect? "You mutants aren't oppressed, you're dangerous. Mutants that can walk through walls? Control our minds? Rip a man clean in half? You need to be kept in check, and frankly, I'm glad there are people out there willing to push back against you freaks takin' over the whole fuckin' city," the man says, spitting on the ground at Jean's feet. "I told you once, I'm not saying it again. Clear off, freak. Probably mind-controllin' that boy to fight for you, or something," he says, reaching out to give Jean a push.
Jean's hand to his chest stops Sam from moving forward, at least for the moment. There's a look of anger on his face at the treatment she's getting; she's not even an obvious looking mutant! In fact, she's one of the most beautiful girls he's ever known, so what gives?! And then the man pushes her, and he's riled up again. "HEY! DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" He won't push Jean away, but if she falls down, he's ready to charge up his blast field and give his man a shove of his own. Through a wall.
*
"We -are- oppressed! We all are! You just don't see it because you're the majority! Help us!" Jean begs the man, only to be met with a spit near her foot and a shove to her shoulder. It was then that she gives Sam a glimpse, that shove accidentally spreading her mind towards Sam's, allowing him to see just what she had done to herself for the sake of their discussion. She doesn't fall, but she does stumble to the point that her hand touches the ground, the lazily little footwork has her scampering to bring herself back upright so that she could approach the men again, -and- try to grab Sam's arm in the process.
"I'm not mind controlling anyone!" She states, clearly a lie. "But you need to listen! We don't want to hurt anyone, we just want to live. Why can't you see that we're more afraid of you than you are of us? Why can't you see that we're all the same!"
*
The shock of seeing Jean as she's presented herself to the men causes Sam to do a bit of a double-take, but he doesn't let it rattle him. There's a sense of disappointment, actually, that Jean might feel from him. She shouldn't have done that to them. But it doesn't excuse their words, or their feelings. Seeing her fall though, there's a spike of anger, and he very nearly blasts his way past Jean, but stops himself when she grabs his arm again. He's fuming though, normally kind eyes glaring daggers at the man who shoved her. At this point, he doesn't really care about the politics, he just wants to punch that asshole square in the jaw.
"I don't need to listen to no disgusting mutant freak," the man says to Jean, moving to shove her again, intending to knock her into Sam, and both of them to the ground. "And I gave you your chance to clear off, but you mutants just don't listen.. think you're better'n us normal folk, don't you? Oughta teach you a lesson about respectin' your betters," he growls, and rolls up his sleeves as he moves closer, while the rest of the group follows suit.
*
Dissapointment, she felt it. But she had a point to prove and this was it. They could go on and on about what was right, and what was wrong, and in the end? No one would listen. They weren't the voices of authority, they weren't figures of power even though they encompass it within their very bones. They were essentially nothing to the people, just like the rest who didn't even have power but the different color of skin. So she grows quiet at this, her face leveling towards the man as she relaxes, allowing herself to be knocked into Sam which sends them both tumbling, Jean herself atop of him.
"Stay down Sam.. it's okay. I'll protect us.." She murmurs quietly, even though she carries the effect of bliss within her body, she does not extend it to Sam, but she does interweave a TK shield in between the two of them, keeping it close and tight against their bodies to protect them from any hits, any shots that would be thrown their way. It was a hard thing to do, but she has managed to do incredible feats with her TK.. such as pulling thread through a needle..
Besides.. fighting back was easy. Not fighting back? It was a hard pill to swallow.
*
Sam goes down, and it just makes him more upset. If it weren't for Jean's insistence he'd be throwing fists and making these men regret their words, as much as their actions. It's not Jean's job to protect them. She's the girl, damnit! But just as he might think to get up and throw the first punch, and just as the lead man steps forward to do the same, the brief sound of sirens blare as a police cruiser comes to stop not more than ten feet from where the two groups are about to come to blows. The two officers step out from the vehicle, and approach. "There a problem here folks?"
*