Janurary 4th
Midday

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Clutching her purse to her chest, Cordelia skittered across the busy high street, her white coat seemingly chasing after her procession to get out of the cold streets, the exhaust fumes of the traffics and the disgusting apperance of some of the people on the street. Like wearing a knitted jumper of a reindeer on Christmas day wasn't a sin already but actually conituning to wear it even after the elderly loved one who probably hates you anyway and relished your humiliation has been packed up to whatever home you carted them off to. People who dressed like that without being guilted obviously needed professional help and she was glad that she didn't seem to have any-one in her family who looked that desperatly bad. It would have made her laugh if it wasn't tragic.

Her reason for braving the people and the rush of the shops was for the new year sales but not the normal kind where average odds and ends were brought because they were cheap. Those sales were like a forest fire, cleaning away the dead wood so that they few healthy trees of purchase could be seen underneath. For Cordelia, armed with a purse full of plastic and several bank accounts each with a healthy ammount of cash inside. From her own personal account to her fathers nest egg for her, Cordelias world was her oyster.

Of course, her excessive store credit from a mild shopping mania after Apocalypse as soon as her favourite stores re-opened had meant that the Frost girl probably didn't need to touch those reserves for a long time to come anyway. Her aim was as always, a little social pampering and to fill her already expansive wardrobe. Fashion favoured the fortunate and the frivilious after all.

After hitting several of the more pricey boutiques that littered the area and a few jewellers to see if some ice caught her eye, Cordelia dared to enter the throng of shoppers again, to try and make her way to hail a cab back to her apartment. However hard she tried though, Cordelia kept catching traces of the emotions in the air around her, like a mixture of smells that is so heady yet unfamilar. Ladeled down with several store bags and fighting her way through the stream of people who just seemed to be going against her, the brunette stumbled slightly, her heels skittering on the ice, almost grasping the dirty looking lamp-post with a slender hand as she tried to regain her composure.

How she missed Paris. In the days when she had lived there, it had seemed so much better than this grungy american city. But Paris was gone decimated by death and while she didn't mourn the people who had died, she did mourn the fact that somewhere special had been wiped out like a insect on a windshield. So caught up in her little moment of remiscence that Cordelia did not sense the approach of someone fixated on the seemingly day-dreaming rich girl.

Almost as quickly as she snapped back to her senses, a hand wrapped round her purse handle as another came round to punch her in the face. Muttering a gasp as she tried to duck away, the blow glanced off the side of her head and the rich girl fell, the ice finally claiming its victim with some outside help and she felt her bag being ripped from her grasp as her mugger ran off. Trying to find his mind, she braved for an instant the large crowd around her with her powers but the overwhelming minds, laced with curiosity, urges to help and anger at the situation all in a splitsecond flooded her mind and Cordelia withdrew, knowing her attempts at getting him mentally were useless.

"Help! He's got my bag, thief!" she cried, pointing at the running figure, his head covered in a dark cap.

It had been nearly a month since Dustin had left the security of Mutant Town, a little more than a month since he had become what he was. It wasn't too difficult to hide his mutation at present, though it seemed like it wasn't finished with him. His tongue was slowly getting a deeper fork, his canines seemed sharper than they used to be.. otherwise he was normal, but how long would that last? He decided this morning, he was going to enjoy his freedoms of semi-normalcy while he still could.

It would have been better if he hadn't been wandering the city alone, though. Or better yet, knew what was worth checking out. Times Square went without question, but the crowds were getting to him. Of course he'd dressed to protect others from his rather poisonous self, but he worried that it wasn't enough.. as usual. It seemed like he was getting used to it, which in and of itself was worrying. He couldn't get careless...

And, several yards away, a woman cried out. Thief. There was a sense of disbelief in the crowd. That had to be it, otherwise wouldn't someone have tried to stop the man? Dustin tried to see what was going on, and realized that there was a man running with a purse. In his direction. Now, the guy was bigger than him, and probably wouldn't like some skinny guy in a bright yellow jacket stopping his escape.

Didn't even enter Dustin's mind. He saw the guy coming, put a foot out, and the guy went sprawling. Face to the slush. Haha. Dustin stepped over him, picked up the purse, and had already taken a few steps back toward the woman when the guy grabbed his shoulder. After he was spun around, he said a little frantically, "Don't touch me!" Before the guy could react to this weirdness, he'd kicked him in the shins - oh so manly, yeah - and went running back to the rich looking lady.

"This yours?" he asked, shoving it at her, kinda hurried. The guy was coming back. Oh shit, this was great. "Um, you should.. like, get somewhere," he said to the brunette, watching the man come back toward him. This was not going to turn out well. If she just left, though, he'd see if he could run off.. but as long as she was here, she was a target. He was a good distraction.

The coppery tang of blood was bitter on her tongue as Cordelia felt herself being helped off the ground, helpful shoppers helping to pick her small frame up. Granted, one of the people looked like he was ten hamburgers away from a coronary but it was the thought that count, even if it was from a man who seemed to be ten pounds from three-hundred. She watched with a slight helplessness as she watched the man with the bag running away from the crowds, the thought of all her cards gone a glum feeling in her gut. Granted, it would take a few minutes to call the numbers of her banks to cancel the cards and then another few to arrange for a duplicate handbag to be delivered from the boutique but it was the fact that she had been bag snatched on the street. Her, the daughter of one of the most wealthy families in America, robbed like a common hysterical shopper. And that punch was probably going to bruise as well. It was odd that she felt so rational after just being attacked like that, she bemused, that she was more worried about her face rather than her safety. If she was a doctor, she would have said that it was probably shock more than rationality. She hadn’t been hit since Paris after all.

But then like a oddly dressed hero, a skinny man dressed in an eye-catching yellow tripped the mugger, sending him flying face first into the slurried grey snow on the floor. It was like a little surprise to see such a cartoonish incident, especially when the bag rescuer kicked the man in the shins to run away from. But the boys face when he came closer, there was something odd about him, something that Cordelia couldn’t quite put her finger on. But whatever was wrong with his appearance, she couldn’t care less, the man was bringing her bag back!

“Oh my god, like thank you so much! Jesus, he’s coming back?” she gasped, clutching back tightly at the bag as he had pushed it back towards her. Then behind him, she could see the mugger, his dark hoody partially obscuring his pale face. Was he really stupid enough to come back and try to start something over something he had tried to steal? Apparently he was though. Luckily, or unluckily in the mans case, what they said about New Yorkers proved to be a bit truer than she had thought. A large man with cornrows and a dark red sports jacket slammed into the mugger pushing him into the wall, his forearm pushing his shoulders into the brick-work, his face gritted.

“Don’t worry Mam, I’ll deal with this son of a bitch” said the man, who Cordelia guessed must have been an off-duty police officer by the way he referred to her as “mam”. It was either that or she looked really badly messed up from her fall. As he began to drag the guy away, holding him in a strong grip, Cordelia turned back to the young man who had saved her bag. Even with the yellow jacket, he still looked like the type that could slip away into the crowd if she wasn’t careful.

“Can I offer you a reward or something like that as a thank you? I mean you did help save my Prada handbag…” she asked, rifling through her bag as she reached in to get her small purse to get some bills. Even if he said no, she would still try and give him something. Like father always said, repay favours as fast as you can so they don’t bite you in the ass later in life.

"You're welcome," Dustin said, glancing over his shoulder when she said that the guy really was coming back. Argh. He really did have the best of luck. And.. maybe he did, because some guy grabbed the guy and shoved his face into a wall.

Dustin blinked in surprise, and then.. there was a sense of relief. Besides that he was concerned about possibly being pummeled, there was a good chance that the guy would have a very very bad reaction to touching him, and ... in the middle of a crowded street ... that could go very very badly for Dustin. Either people would panic, or.. worse.. they wouldn't. Somehow he didn't think people would feel so kindly towards him even if the guy did just rob a woman. He'd suddenly become the bad guy..

"A reward?" he repeated blankly, when the nicely dressed woman asked him if she could offer him a reward. Like, what? "Are you serious?" his mouth ran before his thoughts caught up with the conversation. Was she pulling money out? Seriously he'd just gotten her purse back for her. Who cared if it was Prada or whatever. Not that he couldn't use the money, that wasn't the point. She didn't owe him anything.

And- he began stumbling over his own words. "Never mind that, I mean that guy punched you in the face, are you okay? You don't look too bad, but you might want to get some antibacterial or antiseptic or whatever that stuff is, who knows where that guy's been." Not that he'd been excessively gross, just a jerk that punched women in the face. Seriously, what kinda prick thought he could do that? Let alone in the middle of the day, in the middle of a crowded street. Way stupid.

Finally finding her wallet, Cordelia snapped the clasp open with one hand and grabbed one of the bills inside. It was only a twenty but Cordelia was rewarding a service of sorts, rather than just turfing it over to charity. The youngest Frost daughter knew that people rarely did good deeds out of the goodness in their hearts. If you did manage to do something for none-selfish reasons, then good for you, but Cordelia didn’t think herself naïve enough to see the world that idealistically. Plus, she would look like such an ungrateful person if she didn’t reward the boy in some way. Looking back as he replied to her beginning of an offer, Cordelia reached snapped the clasp shut after withdrawing the cash and held the bag close to her, the crowd that had watched the altercation now slowly dissipating.

The drama now over, it seemed like they were quickly forgotten by the crowds, gone from centre of attention to just background extras in the street, which was how Cordelia preferred it. Unnecessary attention like this to her wouldn’t be too good, especially if news somehow reached her family that she was a victim in the streets. Her father might bring her home, stating that Adrienne wouldn’t of been bag snatched, that she wasn’t smart enough to last on her own, like he had tried to after Apocalypse when he found out she was alive. It would be pitiful, and the Frost blood that ran through her veins also gave her too much pride to admit that she needed help from someone, but if need was given, who was she to deny it. But a reward was needed for her bag being saved.

“Oh this will be easily solved by an painkiller and a bit of foundation, its not like I haven’t taken a punch before and honestly, I don’t think I should be worried about an infection, I’m not bleeding or anything like that. Probably just need to wash away a bit of grime from that creep but I will be fine” Cordelia tried to wave away concerns about her face. It did hurt a bit, the initial sting now turning to a dull throb, the taste of blood swallowed away but Cordelia was going to put a brave face on it rather than cry like a pathetic child. Only the weak cried.
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“Seriously, I insist, take the reward. You earned it, it’s not like a lot of random people would help someone out these days” she ordered softly, holding the bills out close to the younger boys chest for him to take. Now that she was this close, she did realise that there was something off about him as at the close distance she could see him more clearly but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Now that she was calmed down and she was much closer, she opened her mind, sensing his emotions.

When she had tried to affect the robber, the distance and trying to locate him in the crowd of minds was too much of a challenge for her panicked mind but now she was in close proximity, scanning the boy was much easier, just to find a clue about him. But all she got was a sense of worry, surprise and the slight subsiding of fear. For Cordelia, this was to the extent that she could use her powers easily, just scanning someone’s emotion for her was natural. As quickly as she did, her mind snapped back, her powers flicked off as easily as a switch, only a moment passing. What was his concern, that the mugger would come back and get them?

Now, Dustin was something of a fool sometimes. He really oughtn't draw attention to himself, but found himself in situations on a regular basis where people couldn't help but notice. Odds were, most people wouldn't recognize him from the day or two he'd been on the news after his family's deaths and his own disappearance, but he oughtn't take the chance. If he was smart, he'd get the heck out of state, maybe out of the country if he could. But it seemed that he was a pretty forgettable person, at least through the five o'clock news or whatever.

Ah well. The girl, er, woman was being pretty tough about the situation, which was a nice change. He didn't have much experience with girls that didn't act like whiny... little girls. He merely nodded. He did tend to overreact to things, she'd probably be completely fine. She was a mature person it seemed, a little pain didn't upset her life. Something he had to respect. Though he still thought that maybe should find somewhere to sit down and chill for a bit in case she was in shock or something… not that he really thought she was, it was just a vague thought.

And... he took the money without further insistence after she held her ground. A little persistence was all it took for him to cave, about most anything, unless they pushed too much about something he didn't want to do. Accepting a bit of money, it wasn’t like it was a whole lot anyway, wasn’t something he’d get annoyingly stubborn about. Just meant he could get something extra… or focus a little less on work this week. No biggie. Not to mention, after the excitement with the robber, he probably was sweating toxins like crazy. He doubted anything would get through the clothing he wore- everything was chosen specifically to avoid that kinda thing- but he tended toward cautious since he couldn’t be sure. He just had to be sure she stayed away, which surely wouldn’t be a problem. Didn’t seem like the kind of girl to fling herself at her ‘hero’, which frankly would have freaked him out slightly even if he hadn’t had to worry about people poisoning themselves on him.

“Well. If you’re sure you’ll be fine. And. Thanks. I hope the rest of your day sucks less now that‘s over with, you know?” he said, smiling slightly, not realizing it was a little too broadly. That he’d flashed fang. He didn’t have much practice, since most of his time he stayed in mutant town and didn’t have to hide his physical mutations. Teeth, a snake-like tongue. Claws, though his gloves easily took care of that.

Those were the extent of his obvious differences, so far. It still hadn’t really sunk in, after everything… particularly that fight the other day, from which he’d miraculously he’d escaped bruising despite being bashed into a wall… that he had to hide what he was. Things just seemed really surreal since it happened. It was just weird. And he was pretty sure he was still changing. His fangs weren’t as pronounced, his tongue not as flat or as divided, a month ago. Hopefully it wouldn’t get bad enough that he’d start lisping. That’d just be a pain…

And- Toxin’s mind snapped back to attention, after it was allowed to wander free and got lost. “Yeah. Anyway. Take care.” Surely he was forgetting something. Like. Should he have introduced himself or something? But they weren’t going to meet again, it didn’t really matter, and it wasn’t like she wanted to know he was sure.

Pulling her dark brown hair slightly over the bruised area as to not allow it to attract the questions that would follow if any of her friends caught her looking like that till she had time to put on some more make up or at the least a hat, Cordelia kept glancing at the unlikely saviour as he took her reward. She had no clue who he was, having not really paid much attention to the news story when it came out and caring even less. People vanished everyday, especially with death. Hell, a few people in the Hellfire Club did that as an actual profession, helping get rid of people and leaving no trace at all. Better to be on their side than against them though, that was clear. However, the boy kept talking, showing some concern about her and telling her to have a good day in a round about way. Still, it was nice to see that some people showed manners and grace, especially when it was obvious that the boy didn’t have the same decent upbringing that she had. Forced elocution lessons for all of the Frost children left her with a slight posh edge to her voice, a hint of that cut glass accent that every English person on television seemed to have mixed with her Boston accent, gave Cordelia what she thought was quite a interesting accent, at least to herself. It was obvious that the majority of the people around her hadn’t been taught traditional pronunciation and this boy was no exception. Well class wasn’t meant for everyone.

“Well thanks for all your help and have a good da…” Cordelia said, her voice catching in her throat and her eyes widening slightly with shock at the sight of the mans mouth. There, right there in his teeth was one long incisor, a fang glinting right underneath his lips. She didn’t mean to stop, or even stare or act surprised, but it was just so unexpected and she immediately knew that it was obvious that she had seen his obvious mutation. Of course, she shouldn’t judge with her empathy which she had already used on the boy, but it made sense why he was worried so much, if he was afraid of being spotted. It took a brave or stupid person to walk the streets around here as an obvious mutant if they weren’t wearing those X-Factor uniforms. After the whole situation with Apocalypse, being a mutant was not something that you wanted to openly parade, so it all made sense. She knew already that he would know and feel like, and she didn’t have to use her powers for that. Quickly recovering her composure, she smiled again, slightly hesitant.

“Well, as I said thank you for the help and you be careful, it’s not always safe for people like us. I’m going to get a taxi back home now, need to be dropped off anywhere? Think of it as an extra thank you” she replied, realising that maybe she could use this as an advantage. If he had an useful power, maybe she could exploit that for the Clubs best interests. And if that failed, having a few contacts in the mutant community could always be an asset to her personally. Of course, that would depend if he took the ride with her. She was hoping her hinting about them both being mutants would lend him some trust and a bit of incentive to join her as she passed her bags into one hand and walking to the side of the sidewalk, motioning for a taxi. Hopefully she wouldn’t be waiting for ages.

Something had caught the woman's attention, causing her to stop speaking suddenly. Staring at him with a hint of shock. What was she looking at? His mouth? Now, Dustin was becoming slightly paranoid. What was it? Did he say something strange, did he have something in his teeth? His... teeth... oh crap. He had smiled. The young man instantly looked a little guilty. What kinda idiot was he? He knew better than to flash his fangs in public. Just the other day- those guys- well, at least he hadn't any visible bruises. He'd managed to avoid getting his face damaged until those X-factor girls arrived to save his ass.

But as quickly as the shock had taken hold, it was gone, and she thanked him again. He almost didn't catch 'people like us'. Did she mean. People like us. Was she a mutant too? What else could she mean? There couldn't possibly be any other similarity between the two of them. Could there? He couldn't make any other connections. She didn’t look physically mutated, so it’d likely be an ability of some kind..

His mind was all over the place. She’d offered a ride. He shouldn’t take it. Or. Should he? What if someone else saw him smiling and was waiting to get him alone? Recent events made him worry more about that then he had before having first hand experience. He didn’t want to get followed again. This time there might not be heroes in spandex. Or whatever it was they wore. “I, uhm, alright. Thank you. That’d be great…” he said, looking as uncertain as he felt. It wasn’t like he had anything to worry about. In the end, most people had more to worry about him than he about them. Even dead, he would be deadly dangerous to anyone who came into contact with him. He was a freakin’ bio-hazard.

Dustin wanted to ask about what she’d meant- if she was really a mutant too- but knew better than to bring that topic up in the middle of a crowded street. He stood there, a little awkwardly, as they waited for a taxi. It occurred to him that he‘d still hadn‘t introduced himself. Right. “…. I‘m Dustin, by the way. Dustin Reed,” he introduced himself, unable to really give his other name along with it for the same reason he couldn‘t straight out ask her whether she was a mutant. Lucky for him, a taxi arrived rather quickly after that, so there wasn’t an odd pause before he continued. He just gave the address, which was most certainly in mutant town. A custom made clothing shop, which was often quite necessary for the physically mutated mutants. He lived above it. “Suppose you saw my fangs then?” he asked, looking a little embarrassed, before changing the subject back to introductions. “So yeah. Either Dustin or Toxin is fine. Though the second is more of a description than a real name,” he said with slight amusement. He found the way many mutants took on code names or simply changed their names to suit their powers amusing. But it helped as a warning for people. Do not touch. This guy’s toxic.

While it was technically possible for someone to remain quiet for the duration of a car ride, it was pretty hard for Dustin to just stay quiet. It felt awkward and, honestly, he didn’t talk to that many people anymore unless they approached him. He could count on one hand the people he’d had a decent conversation with since becoming a mutant. Or, finding out that he was a mutant. Whatever. He was still trying to deal with it in his own way, come to grips with the change… “You know. Its barely been a month for me,” he admitted with a glance out the window. Most mutants it seemed they found out at puberty. He was nearly twenty four. It was strange. Even among his own ‘kind’ he was different. There were others whose powers prevented contact with others, he’d heard, but he hadn’t met any yet. Maybe he’d stop feeling so freakishly dangerous once he met people with similar powers… or not. Everyone handled their problems differently, and he doubted super powers would be an exception.

"Frost, Cordelia Frost. My friends call me Cordy" she replied politely. Dustin sounded so redneck and old to her as a name. Much too different than this boy in front of her, but maybe the name meant something else when he was named. After all, Cordelia herself had been named after the youngest daughter from King Lear (which in itself was very apt to her families history ironically). But most people equated her name to the bitchy cheerleader from Buffy. But Cordelia could see it just from the boys face that he was worried and slightly confused about what was going on. If she could get him in the car he would feel a lot more comfortable in her presence. The empath couldn't imagine having a physical mutation like his even if it was slight. In her family, apperance was everything, where you had to look and fit the part. The Club however let some of these things slide as long as you have power. You could be ugly and insane but if you had power you could climb to the top anyway. And Cordelia was going to climb to the top and if this boy could help her then it would be a great advantage to her. Utilise all your assets, that's what her time in Paris had taught her. Thankfully, the taxi that she had ordered arrived at a better than average time and she took Dustin inside. It figured that he ordered it to go to that x-gene ghetto, Mutant Town. Where the mutated made their home and the humans had an easy target to vent their prejudices at. The brunette girl was glad that she didn't live there. She would stick to her penthouse with the large doorman called Winston, thank you very much.

"Only for a second and I am sure that no-one else did. It is a pleasure to make your acquantince Mr Toxin" she replied, her mind guessing about the mans mutation. While most mutants had taken one as a sign of pride and a representation of their powers, somes made little or no sense. Cordelia herself had never taken a codename but she guessed that Dustins was a Snake based mutation judging on the name relating to poisons and the fangs. So did the boy have a lethal poison to contribute to that codename or was he just unlucky to be physically different? By the comment on his time, she realised his mutation must be a fresh one. Poor boy, straight to a bad place from being human.

"A few years for me and don't worry it does get easier to deal with. Kind of a family trait I guess. I can feel things, emotions and feeling, it's a pretty small thing but it can just build up at times. But there's way more of us around that you can't see. You helped me out, maybe I can return the favour if you want. Friends in high places you know?" she replied to the boy, leaning close to him. She could feel him, the curiousity and the apprehension. Planting a little seed of emotion in the boy would be easy. Not lust though, love was often too tricky to control plus if he was toxic, then physical contact would be a major no-no. The best thing to use would be friendship and trust, that would be the best policy. The boy liked her, he wouldn't go far if she could use him. Focusing slightly as she talked to him, her mind implanted a feeling of contment, happiness towards her. That warm feeling in his gut would spread though gently like an heater in a cold house. Little by little, too much at once and the boy might get wise to her. Gently does it.

Living in Mutant Town was actually very nice. Better than back in North Salem, even if it wasn't as good of a neighborhood aesthetics-wise. People were usually very friendly, always ready to help a fellow mutant out, no matter how strange. It was a nice change, refreshing, and a little strange in a pleasant way. Though, one had to be careful around the edges of the community. He'd come to realize that only a few days ago.. Heading off alone, wasn't the greatest idea. If help hadn't come along... well, someone would have died. And it probably wouldn't have been him. He had been losing his cool...

"Nice to meet you, as well, Miss Frost," the young man said, taking a page from her book with the politeness. Cordelia was a pretty name, though he wasn't sure where he'd heard it before. Well, it wasn't her that he remembered vaguely, because surely he would have remembered meeting her before, without a doubt. Back at uni, things were very laid back.. otherwise, he'd kept to himself. And since, well, he hadn't been very social. Worrying overly much about people falling dead around you could do that to a guy. As was often the case or so it seemed, the manifestation of his powers was rather traumatic. People died. And one of them actually mattered to him, so it was something difficult to just walk away from and move on. Though he did, he had to move on. It hadn't really been his fault.. he didn't even know what was going on at the time. Only that, one by one, in quick succession, they all fell.

He didn't question whether she was telling the truth when she said that no one else saw; he just relaxed. While he tended to question his own judgment, mostly he just wanted to trust people. As long as they didn't betray that trust, at least. And as long as they didn't expect him to trust him. That tended to put him on guard. What could be seen as gullible naivety, was mostly just wishful thinking.

‘Mr. Toxin.’ Haha. That just sounded funny.. “Just, Toxin is fine,” he said, smiling again. “Its… less of a name and more of a title? I guess. Something like that. Not like I replaced my old name, as some like to try and forget where they came from..” It was easier, now, to think about what once was, without getting choked up about it. One couldn’t remain depressive forever. Well. He could. But what kinda life would that be? Not one he would like to lead. A few years… and it’d gets easier. It damn well better get … better. At least, as long as someone was adaptable enough to deal with the changes. He could imagine that someone who couldn’t accept what they were, the way the world was, could get very miserable. Angry. Pathetic. He wasn’t going to dwell on it.

She’d told him her power was empathy, and perhaps… someone else might have noticed how much easier it was to accept what she said. Dustin, however? He’d already decided, albeit subconsciously, that he wanted to trust this person. Not that he’d expected to continue to see her… He didn’t really get what she was offering him. What could he ask of her that her friends in high places could help him with? But he did believe, that she could, would do something for him in return for his earlier actions. Not even thinking, when she moved closer to him, he moved further away. Not very quickly, but if he had to, he’d continue until he’d end up on the floor. She was… nice. The last person he’d want hurt because of him.

“I think, that I like my new life better than my old one,” he admitted, glancing out the window for a moment. It was something that made him guilty. He’d shed the responsibility of his family, his plans, his future he’d been working toward without a real reason except that it was expected of him… and while things were very negative for mutants now. He was free falling, and it was a new experience for him. He liked it, a little. “I probably would have never left North Salem if I‘d had a choice, but I never want to go back there..” People were strange like that. They’d stay in a place they didn’t belong, because of invisible ties that in the end, only held them down. They meant nothing, really.

As the midday winter sun managed to peer through the crowd of clouds and spread a few hints of cold light through the window of the taxi, Cordelia was already thinking what she could try to achieve here. She had to push only slightly, not too much otherwise it may become obvious for what she was trying to achieve. Unlike telepathy when you could easily cover your tail, empathy at times would leave a track a mile wide if you didn’t push it all out. Cordelia lacked the finesse needed for her power, either using a full strength shock to the system of emotion or a slight feeling. She knew that she had trouble trying to see the right way to influence people. When you needed a scalpel, all Cordelia had was a chainsaw and trying to wield that deftly was a hard task.

She knew that she had the backbone and the will, but no training for it. Maybe all those years running from her powers, she should have embraced them like her sisters did. After all, they were both so much more successful and skilled than her, but Cordelia wouldn’t ask for their help in training her in a billion years. Not so much for bad feelings towards Emma, which was more of she wouldn’t let the girl who ruined her family by running off, give her help but it was more that she refused to go grovelling to that bitch Adi. How she had hated that nickname. Cordelia remembered that Christian used to call them “Adi, Emi and Cordi” when they were younger, like tiny children. Even then, Adrienne and Emma were always miles ahead, competing against each other over the smallest thing. Of course Emma changed but Adrienne never did, always competing against an invisible person, striving to be exceptional. Maybe she lacked that drive that they had to master themselves and achieve all they did by themselves. But Cordelia was determined to prove that she could top them, doing what they did but better.

“Oh so like a codename then. Toxin, it sounds rather dashing don’t you think? Like those superhero films, mind you, you are a bit of a hero today. And don‘t worry, we all have a past we regret, you know. I moved to New York to get away from my past..” she replied. Playing to her strengths, she laid compliments upon the boy, all the while continuing to focus on the link of trust and comfort that she pushing forwards into his mind. Trying to also lay down the paths for some sympathy by making him feel like they were in the same boat, he would be more susceptible for be weak to her powers. Force was a bad thing to use when you could seep into their minds like water into a sponge. But he moved back when she shuffled closer, an almost scared look and feeling coming from him. More worry.. What did the boy have so much to worry about? Was it the past he mentioned to try and forget? He was like a puzzle that she had to try and figure out.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I meant that if you ever needed a favour, you know in case you are in trouble, I can try and help you out like you did to me. And life is what you make of it, mister, you can’t take that step back. Just gotta keep moving forwards, ya know? I think this is your stop coming up after this corner” Cordelia replied, glancing through the window out onto the streets. She hadn’t spent more than one hour in Mutant Town before, seeing it as more of a ghetto for mutants rather than an actual neighbourhood. Thank god she didn’t have to live in that dump.

Sure, Cordelia had mentioned that she could 'feel things, emotions and feeling' - but that didn't mean that Dustin would make the connection that she could influence those emotions. With no suspicion, even if it seemed a little odd for him to suddenly trust and connect with her when it was difficult for him to.. get along with people properly, it would just be dismissed with an 'oh, well, this is nice'. Which... is what happened. It wasn't often that there was someone that he got along with, and that got along with him as well. Though he didn't harbor many illusions that it was friendship. Just enough to cheer him a little.

"Codename, right, that's the word.." Dustin said with a slight smile, feeling slightly bashful about the praise, warming to it. "Toxin.. sounds more like a villain’s name to me. But, maybe a little.." He'd only done what he had to. He honestly didn't understand why anyone else hadn't reacted like he had, besides being shocked by it happening at all. Then again, he was from a much smaller town.

Maybe some people here were just numb to that kinda thing.. he supposed he understood that intellectually, but as a person he couldn't accept standing back and doing nothing as an option. Perhaps it was just old-fashioned chivalry rearing its ugly head. Couldn’t stand back and leave a girl in trouble, type of thing.

"It's.. not like that. I understood. Sorta," Dustin said with an odd look. It had sounded a little like a motivational speech or something. He was.. mostly okay. "Its, its just best if people stay away from me a bit. I'm not exactly good for the health, though I think I've got that under control its better to be a little overcautious when it comes to poisons, y'know?" He glanced out the window again when she said that it was his stop coming up. And.. so it was, they were almost there. He grinned. He actually did like the shop he worked at. The clothes... yeah, he was worse than a girl when it came to that. "Thanks. If anything's up, I'll come to you then?" he said, a little impishly, attitude momentarily restored to his normal state. It was good to have someone to be himself with. Didn't even realize that he was putting up walls around people until they were down. "How am I going to find you? Its a big city.. and I get lost very easily."

“Personally, I don’t think it sounds like a villains name, more neutral than anything. After all, you have to be a nasty piece of work to be a villain and I reckon you’re a nice guy. And I tend to be a very good judge of character” Cordelia replied to the man in the taxi with her, noting down everything he said in her head, all the while continuing to persuade that trust and friendship in him. It was a lot easier with one person but she needed to keep her eye on the ball more than anything else. Now that she had done most of the hard work, she needed to be able to end it on a good position as she could so she could call on him later if needed.

Ah so the younger mutant in front of her did do something with poisons, now that would be a useful person to have on her side, Cordelia thought to herself. Not only could it come in handy when she needed someone taken care of, when she wanted something to protect herself, what better than being able to find a source of poison that probably didn’t have any known antidote if it was natural to just this one mutant. Her mind reeling at the possibilities of what she could use that for, she almost lost her powers edge on Toxin, but quickly snapped back from her mild day dream to listen to what he was saying to her, about his worries. But while he asked about being able to find her, Cordelia rummaged around in her handbag for her wallet. After a moment or two of struggling to open it, she managed to retrieve what she had been looking for, a small collection of business cards with her name written on in a rich dark black on crème card. On the back, she quickly scrawled down her personal cell number, and not just the business one which she used on the rare occasions that her small company needed management (that’s what she hired help for, not to do all the property work herself).

“Here’s my cell. Don’t be afraid to call me whenever you want and even if you only get the answer phone, I will get back to you as swiftly as I can, don’t you doubt about that, I am very good at finding people if I need to” she said, passing one of the cards over, being careful not to touch Toxin as she did so. If the worry about it she picked up was as bad as the poisons themselves, she would probably require emergency help if she got contaminated. And like that would be a useful use of her time, lounging in a hospital dying when she could be out having fun. But as she opened the car door, she motioned for Toxin to get out. She had a craving for an martini to take the edge of the dull pain on her face more than anything else.

Honestly, Dustin wasn't so sure that he wasn't a bad guy. Was it a person's actions or their character that defined them? If it was actions, well, then he was screwed. If it was character… he still wasn’t sure. He wasn't a good judge of character with other people, so why would his own character be any different when it came down to it? Toxin really didn't think he had the same point of view as most people, the conclusions he came to often made sense to no one else. In the end it was probably just a matter of perspective. Some one could be a hero, a villain, or just a normal person in pressing circumstances... A good person that did bad things, because they had to, or couldn't help it. A bad person that happened to do good things, because he felt like it or... whatever. Maybe it was motive behind the actions?

Didn't really matter. He really needed to stop over thinking these things. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't a villain. He was just some fool with dangerous powers, trying to move on with his life.

What was she looking for? He watched her for a moment then glanced away, as she rummaged through her purse. No need to be nosy. Taking out a card, she wrote something down on it and handed it to him- carefully. Good. He was pleased that she took his comment about being careful with poisons seriously. People usually did, but some figured that since they were an awesome mutant of awesomeness that they were automatically immune to everything. Hmph. Tox took the card from her, as careful not to touch as she, even though he was wearing gloves. The materials used in lining his clothing seemed to do the trick in keeping his poisons to himself… just, he wasn’t sure how to test that out safely.

Dustin glanced down at the card as Cordelia spoke. Well, duh. Her phone number. Why hadn’t he asked for that to start with? That made him feel slightly dull, as if that was anything new. “I’ll… sure, I’ll remember that,” he said, noting to put the card somewhere he wouldn’t lose it when he got home. It was a bit of a mess. Maybe he ought to clean up or something, soon. Before it became completely impossible to live there. He scooted out of the taxi when Cordelia opened the door and motioned for him to get out.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said, somewhat brightly. It wasn’t entirely forgotten what had happened earlier. Just overshadowed by having made a new friend. “I’m usually ‘round here, I live in one of the apartments above the shop. They make pretty cool clothes,” he added absently as he headed toward the building, glancing back, a vague thought in mind. Hope she’ll be alright now.