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Hell's Kitchen. The only thing that keeps it semi sane and quiet is the fact it's a Wednesday night. Even the gangs get sort of bored and quiet on a Wednesday. Sure, there are bars, drunks, the occasional tussle, especially on the edge where it goes into Harlem and the blacks and whites that are always looking for a fight come together to get one they want to pick. But that's a dozen blocks north. Here? It's just a lazy jazz club with a back door that sells a lot of things for the musicians and anyone who has some green. Lois never came here before, but after Keith disappeared and her favourite bar dried up, she was desperate. So, she did what any good reporter does, she followed what her contacts on the street was saying. This time, however, it wasn't for a story. It was for drugs.
The guy at the club didn't have what she needed, but he knew someone inside who normally kept some on him. So, inside she went. A few muttered words, a dirty exchange of bills, and the woman has popped two pills desperately fast because it's been all day and she needed them. That might have been one too many. Who knows. She's half stumbling on her platform shoes right now, determined to make it back to her car, but that seems a long distance away and her legs aren't quite moving the way they should.
*
This is not exactly a place Josh usually goes: while Mutant Town is a little slum like, he's known there so people don't bother him. In Hell's Kitchen he's just a little too blonde pretty boy, but since its a Wednesday, and he's wanting to feel somewhat human, he has made his way over to the neighborhood. He's wearing a bright yellow hoodie, which doesn't at all help him to blend in, but with the hood up the pretty white boy thing doesn't show off all that much. Once his eyes fall upon Lois, he at first hesitates: the bitterness is always there. She's just some human, after all. But then his better angels shove that aside, and he jogs up to the woman who is having trouble, "Hey, miss." he begins, his voice a calm, soft tone beneath the yellow hoodie, "Are you okay?" He looks from her to try to determine where she's headed— and since it seems maybe a car, his expression turns skeptical for the woman. "I don't think driving is a good idea, miss."
*
Lois has partially disconnected.
*
At some point, Lois made it out the door. She couldn't really remember when, but she made it. Halfway down the street, clinging to the grimy wall as she goes. If she can just get to her car, she can pass out there, sleep it off a few hours, be fine in the morning. This wasn't her usual shit. But she can't quite remember where she parked her car and this isn't her area of the city. She's so out of it that she doesn't even realize someoen's coming close until he's half reaching for her shoulder and Lois unsteadily spins around, backing away from the very scary… Pretty kid in a bright hoodie.
Alright, not that scary. She half winces, though, the color of his hoodie alone bright, "…'mfine… jus'… had a bit. Yanno, kid… it happens. 'mfine. Gotta find my car… sleep it off…" Lois mutters, slightly slurring but she's doing her best to over enunciate and prove that she's doing alright. She's also slowly sinking down against that wall. Down and down. Stopping moving was an unwise idea.
*
Josh pauses. "Kid?" he asks, sounding somewhat incredulous, though he does look young for his age. So the incredulity may be unfair. Still, though, he doesn't back away, but he does lift his hands up in a gesture of appeasement, "Hey, here, let me help you up." He crouches, reaching a hand out to rest on her shoulder, if she doesn't bat it away or any such thing like that, "I'm a doctor. Did you drink too much? Or take something?" His voice is a mix of concern and some mild annoyance.
*
"…psh… get old as me, everyone's a kid…" She probably was in her 30s, but that's enough of an age that women, especially nowadays, start hating their looks in the mirror. The time when the first few grays start coming in and the sands of time can't be denied any longer. Lois barely notices the hand at her shoulder, but she does notice when her butt hits ground. "…shit. 'mdown. Okay. Maybe jus'… nap it off here. Got some stuff from… that guy, at the club… Dope, yanno, just… Enough to relax. Stronger than my normal stuff, I guess. Just need ta sleep a bit. It'll be fine…" She then does try to drunkenly bat his hand away, but there's no strength behind it.
*
It doesn't take long for Josh to get a fairly complete idea of her biological makeup, and it makes him sigh deeply. His hand tightens upon her shoulder, but the touch is still gentle, "No, you're not fine, you're overdosing. Hold still." Now he does sound annoyed. His hand begins to glow with a soft, warm golden light, and that light sinks into her body and flows through its systems: chemicals are moved around, neutralizing the drug by binding to it. It takes about a minute, all told, with her steadily feeling better and better— but as a precaution, Josh first causes her muscular system to go numb. That way she can't swat his hand away when he's half done. Once he pulls his hand away, the toxin has been neutralized and the paralysis disabled, and then the golden light stops— but now his skin is metallic gold. With golden hands he reaches up to tug his hoodie down lower over his now golden face, "You'll be fine." he murmurs.
*
As the woman gets the telltale sense of something clearing out of her head, the feeling that she'll be sober soon, even as this strange kid thinks he knows better, Lois wants to fight back. He was smart to numb her like that, because he'll feel the seize of her brain in the half panic of lucidity oncoming. SHe's been lucid all day. She hates it. The woman doesn't want to go back there, but she can't move her arms which is doubly as frightening. Maybe she was ODing? Maybe the shit she got off that guy in the club wasn't the best. Who knows. But there is more panic as she realizes she cannot move even as her mind becomes more aware. And then it's done. She's feeling sober, clear headed, angry and sharp.
And he… He's gold. The woman stares at him, ice pale eyes too wide, heart in her throat. "…W-what…what the f*ck did you just do? I…I paid good money for that high! And what the hell is wrong with you? Am… am I tripping? Even more? You… you're all… gold…" She blinks, as confused as she is annoyed and a little bit scared.
*
"You were overdosing. And about to pass out." Josh says, giving a shrug, and backing away a little bit, stuffing his golden hands into his pocket. Thus the yellow hoodie: it makes the gold of his face under the shadows maybe seem like a trick of the light. It doesn't help the gold on his hands, though. So they're tucked. "And if you pass out while overdosing, chances are pretty high you would not wake up again. If you want to be high…" He glances left and right, then extends a golden hand out to her, but doesn't force contact, this time. "I healed you, is what I just did." He shrugs, "Call the gold an unfortunate allergic reaction to doing that. It always happens. It'll go away. Assuming I don't get my ass kicked on my way back to mutant town now. You know, 'thank you' is appropriate at this point."
*
The pale eyed woman listens to him quietly, but she's sober enough to put more pieces together, whether she likes it or not. And he's being honest, if strangely gold. Lois mutters a few curses beneath her breath and then pushes herself back into standing. She pushes her tinted glasses up her nose, back over her no-longer-bloodshot eyes. Physically, this is probably the best she's felt in ages. Mentally? She's cranky as all get out. She sighs quietly, "…I guess one pill, not two, the next time, eh?" She comments, as if it was a little, odd joke or an offhand bit of bad food. Too casual, too careless. "…and…fine. Thanks, kid… still sucks, but thanks." She sighs, looking him up and down for another moment before nodding to the curb, "Lemme give ya a ride… I'd feel like real shit if you got the crap kicked outta ya for helping my sorry ass."
*
"There's some long-term damage in there I didn't get to— though I did finish knitting your ribs back together— so maybe instead of any pills, you try something else. I reccommend marajuana brownies, myself. Weed actually does some good stuff to your body, and you almost can't overdose on it. Me, I like running: did you know the entire reason opium makes you feel good is because it attaches to the parts of your brain endorphins do? Your body makes opium, you just have to tell it to so." And at that, Josh suddenly grins, "Or, you can shake Elixir's hand and he'll tell your body to flood your system. Without having to risk an overdose from some badly cut stuff." But he lets his hand fall, "A ride?" He blinks, uncertainty on his features, "Anyways, uh. Sure. I mean you don't have to. I don't quid pro quo with healing. Even healing humans." A hint of bitterness enters his voice at that, but he glances away.
*
"…Well shit, kid. Don't make human sound like such a dirty word. Some of us can't help it. And you should see me in the morning. I'm almost charming in the morning." Lois flashes him a cocky, devil may care grin, almost flirtatious, even if he's a bit young for her. "And what the fuck is an Elixir? Or, more so… Who? I know what it is…" Sober and steady enough now, Lois nods towards the street and begins leading the way to the best thing about her life, her car. A 1962 El Dorado, cherry red, cream lining… It was the sweetest ride in all of Hell's Kitchen right now. She's lucky it wasn't broken into. "And yeah… I like the weed. Ran out of it too, though. My dealer got himself… possessed by somethin' crazy… bar burnt itself out, it's… weird shit. So, gotta take what I can find. And I wanted somethin' stronger than pot tonight. It's been one of those weeks, yanno?" She unlocks the passenger door for him and then slips inside the driver's side herself. The car absolutely does smell like pot.
*
Lois has partially disconnected.
*
"I'm Elixir." Josh follows along towards the car, and though the car may smell of pot, he doesn't really mind. But he does slip in, "And absolutely none of us can help what we are, but 68 of us got slaughtered in mutant town a few months ago… and a couple months before that, Sacrament's Mutant Town burned to the ground, who knows how many died. And I spent my whole life studying to be a surgeon, I was the best in the program… until I accidentally healed someone and was fired and disowned for being a mutant." That's his life-story in brief, but he shrugs, "But yeah, it looked like you've had quite the week. I suggest whatever or whoever it is that cracked your ribs be put on your do-not-repeat list. But, once we get to Mutant Town and I get some coffee, I can finish putting you back together if you like. The long term damage."
*
"I'm Lois, Elixir. And…that's a weird name. Doubt your parents gave it to you, but… guess I can understand not usin' the real one, with all that mess." Lois admits gruffly, with the awkward tone of someone who doesn't really hate the disenfranchised minority, but hasn't done much to help it either. White guilt, so to speak. Or, non-mutant guilt. Either way, she sticks the keys in the ingition and starts the car going, pulling smoothly out into the street with adept, habitual shifting. She knows this car like the body of a lover.
The commentary about long term damage gets completely ignored. It's easier that way. Once they are up to speed and she's in the gear where she'll stay, she takes her hand off the gearshift and grabs out a pack of cigarettes from the ashtray below the dash. One is tugged out with her teeth and she uses the lighter in the car to get it going. "I'm fine." SHe finally echoes, "But… you ever wanna tell your story to… a lotta people, I can maybe spin it real good. Get the mutant word out there… Sob piece. Getcha some sympathy."
*
Josh inclines his head slowly, "It's not the name my parents gave me, but since they disowned me for being a freak— I don't really feel attached to it. And when I'm gold and stand out like a sore thumb, I go by my mutant name. Around Mutant Town its what people know me as. When I can pass for human, I go by Josh." He glances sidelong towards the woman with a furrowed brow, "Spin it real good? The word out there? What do you mean?" Pause, "Are you a writer or something? I'm not entirely sure if there's that many people who even care about the plight of mutants. Not that there's many advocates."
*
"Yeah. Lois Lane… I write mainly for the Bulletin, but the Bugle's been running my Intoxicated Interviews series because the BUlletin thinks it's too high and mighty to run the interesting shit. I keep tellin' them that's what people want to read, but what do I know, I've just been a f*ckin' junior report for ten years 'cause I got tits." No, Lois isn't bitter or anything. Of course not! NO wonder she drinks. SHe keeps moving towards mutant town, even though she has no clue where they are going after that. She can get him that far, at least. "But… yeah. If…if you wanna get a story out there, I could do it. MIght end up in the Bugle, I dunno, but… we could get the word out that you aren't all… crazy freaks, you know?"
*
Josh pauses a moment, thoughtful. "The Bugle doesn't exactly have a reputation for giving powered people the benefit of the doubt… they like to use the word freak, even if you wrote a good story, it might get edited into a hit piece." He lifts a hand up to rub along his jaw a moment, gold on gold, "Could you do a story *without* including what my power is? Its not safe for the fact that I'm a healer to be widely known. I'd end up kidnapped by some mobster forced to heal criminals who are too afraid to go to a hospital."
*
"But the healer thing is what makes you tempting. What puts you, and mutants, in a sympathetic light. Maybe we do it without putting down a name, and don't mention the gold thing. I always protect my sources. Or…if you got another sob story of a mutant who doesn't mind being shown like that. And… yeah. I'll try to shoot for the Bulletin. If it's a slow news day, it could work…and if we want to show we're better than the Bugle, I can bend Perry's ear that it's a human interest piece." Lois' mind is already going a hundred miles an hour, figuring out how she could manipulate this story into getting seen. Sober, she thinks far too fast, alive and jumpy as an electrified wire. THe sort of person who thinks too much and has no clue how to stop.
*
He seems uncomfortable, but slowly Josh nods his head, wincing a little bit as he does so, "Okay, I take your point." He hesitates, "Could you lie about where I'm based out of? Instead of N.Y.C., could you say, Newark? That way no one shows up in Mutant Town here asking around for a healer. If you could hide my identity as well as possible,… I could tell you my story. If you think that it would help maybe turn peoples minds." There's a flash of guilt in his voice, and he looks away, "It's better then what I usually do to try to… fix things."
*
"…Almost at mutant town, kid. I got no clue where I'm takin' you from here. And yeah, we can obscure where you are from. Lead people on a different hunt. Just matters getting the sympathetic story out there and turning people's ear. I… gotta think of how to spin it more. Talk to Perry, but… here…" Lois leans over again, grabbing at the glove compartment to pop it open. She pulls out her little card case from where it sits among a whole lot of mostly used drug paraphenlia. She pops one free. "That's my number at the Bulletin. You think about this, if you really wanna do it, and we'll set something up. Maybe talk to some of your friends. Can do a whole expose‘ ’The Real Mutants of the East Coast'. Or… 'Mutant Lives: Just Like Us…" Lois makes an unhappy sound at those words, "Nah, title needs more zing. I'm too sober to write well. but…I'll figure it out."
*
"Just drop me anywhere, these are my people. I want to walk around and see if anyone needs help since I'm already gold for the day." Josh's sigh is long-suffering: it is so annoying to have to be gold. But he takes the card, eyes it a moment nad nods, "I'll call you. And I'll talk to my friends to see if any have other… sympathetic powers, that they might be willing to talk about. In case you have a followup. No promises, though. We're a little on the paranoid side. For good reason." Once the car stops, he eyes Lois a moment, uncertain, then half-shrugs and gets out, "Thanks for the ride. Stay safe."
*
"Uh…yeah. Thanks for the… Save, I guess. Elixir. You keep yourself safe out there. Call me. We'll write somethin' nice. I promise." The reporter can't just let it go, even if Lois has a feeling she'll never see him again, she has to try. She waits for him to get out and is certain that he's on the street safely before she pulls away again, probably back to start the process of ruining her body all over.
*