In the heart of the bustling metropolis of New York City, the pulse of urban life beats ceaselessly, echoing through the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets. The city that never sleeps thrums with energy, its vibrant spirit alive in every corner, from the iconic glow of Times Square to the tranquil beauty of Central Park. Amidst the cacophony of honking horns and bustling crowds, the skyline of Manhattan rises majestically, a testament to human ambition and ingenuity. The gleaming glass facades of corporate headquarters and the historic charm of brownstone apartments paint a rich tapestry against the backdrop of the cityscape.

Down below, the streets teem with life as diverse as the city itself. Business executives in tailored suits hurry alongside tourists snapping photos of iconic landmarks. Street vendors hawk their wares, filling the air with the aroma of hot pretzels and sizzling street food. Artists and musicians find inspiration on every corner, their creativity adding to the vibrant tapestry of urban life. Yet beneath the surface of this bustling metropolis lies a world of shadows and secrets, where danger lurks in the alleys and hidden corners of the city. In the underbelly of New York, criminal syndicates vie for control, their operations shrouded in darkness as they navigate the murky waters of power and influence.

As the sun sets over the bustling metropolis of New York City, the pulse of urban life takes on a different rhythm, weaving through the streets and alleyways of its diverse neighbourhoods. Beyond the gleaming skyscrapers of Manhattan, the city's lesser-known districts come alive with their own unique charm and character.

In these neighbourhoods, the skyline gives way to a patchwork of two-story, three-story, and four-story buildings, each bearing the marks of its own history and heritage. Here, the streets are narrower, and the sidewalks more intimate, inviting residents and visitors alike to explore the hidden gems tucked away in their midst. Businesses of all kinds line the streets, their facades adorned with colourful signs and bustling with activity. Mom-and-pop shops and family-owned restaurants share space with community centres and local markets, their presence a testament to the resilience and diversity of New York City's neighbourhoods.

As the day transitioned into night, the city took on a new energy, illuminated by the warm glow of streetlights and the neon signs of corner bodegas. The sounds of laughter and conversation spill out from open windows and doorways, blending with the music of passing cars and the occasional roar of a subway train. Amidst the hustle and bustle, residents gather on stoops and fire escapes, sharing stories and swapping tales late into the night. Children play in the streets, their laughter echoing off the brick facades of nearby buildings, while artists and musicians find inspiration in the vibrant energy of the city around them.

Yet even in these eclectic neighbourhoods, shadows linger in the alleyways and hidden corners, a reminder of the city's complex and sometimes tumultuous history. Here, amidst the hustle and bustle of everyday life, secrets are whispered and alliances forged, as the city's diverse inhabitants navigate the challenges and opportunities of urban living. Such inhabitant, a girl by the name of Clementine or Clem by her friends, moved unseen by the sleepless city as she walked with her hands in her worn and slightly oversized jacket. If you saw her, you might expect her on her way home, but nothing could be further from the truth. With a hood up, she made her way through the now mostly silent streets of the neighbourhood, only the distant siren and general city noise could be heard in the distance.

A near-full moon filled the sky, casting long shadows, and giving off a sense of spookiness. It didn't take long for Clementine to reach her destination, a corner in the poor part of the city, with many low-income residents.

"Took you long enough Clem?" commented a young man in his twenties. He had thick long dreadlocks, gathered in the back, a pierced lip, nose and eyebrows. He wore a worn grey sleeveless leather jacket on top of a black t-shirt with a few holes by the collar and a pair of skin-tight trousers. Beside him, were two other teenagers, both 17 years of age, turning 18 by the end of the month. One was a girl, dressing much like the young man with dreadlocks, however, she had styled her hair into a sidecut reaching her shoulder with greenish-purple tips.
The last member of the group was dressed more like he had just finished basketball training, adorning a long jersey shirt, baggy pants and tightly styled cornrows.

"Not my fault you guys are living in an even shittier part of the city" counted Clementine with a shrug as the group departed their little meeting corner. "No cap, she got you there Jamar" laughed the teen in the jersey shirt. "Last I checked, that also counted you, Kwamin," said Jamar, giving Kwamin a raised eyebrow.

"Bitch, I ain't embarrassed of my neighbourhood, I'm keeping it real" Kwamin flashed a smile he knew would get on Jamar's nerves.

After a few minutes of bickering back and forth, both men were silenced by Clementine, "Fucking hell, at least blow each other, and make it interesting, than this tired repeating bullshit". Both Jamar and Kwamin were almost dumbfounded by their friend's comment and just made a face of disgust, which earned a good laugh from Lira, the girl with a side cut.

It didn't take long before the group of friends found their way to an empty construction site, locked off for the day. Kneeling by the fence, Jamar placed his backpack in front of him pulling out a wirecutter and proceeded to cut it. Meanwhile, the rest kept watch, making sure they weren't getting caught since this wasn't exactly legal.

Before long, the group found themselves freely walking around the construction site, looking around the place. The construction site had been there for about a month or two and the first couple of white walls had been placed. One could argue, that constructing a white building in this part of the city, would be a very stupid idea, but then again, without stupid people, Clementine and her friends wouldn't get so clean and white canvas'.

One by one, each member of their little group, grabbed a spray can and began to paint all manner of artistic randomness on a wall that probably had cost a lot of money. Sadly, the fun was quickly interrupted when a sharp, loud and authoritarian voice pierced the air from another part of the fence.

"Police!"

In a flash, the group ran, dropping the spray cans and running for the small opening they had made in the fence. Unfortunately for them, the police were waiting for the group the moment they ran out of the small hole in the fence.

They managed to capture Jamar and Lira, but Kwamin and Clementine.

A female officer had grabbed hold of Kwamin and Clementine's jacket, Kwamin forced himself from the officer's grip while Clementine promptly wrestled out of her oversized jacket. Clementine and Kwamin bolted down an alleyway. All they heard was the female officer call, "hey, stop!", but Clementine only flipped them off.

As Clementine and Kwamin sprinted away from the construction site, their heartbeats thundering in their ears, the sound of police sirens filled the air behind them. The flashing lights illuminated the dimly lit streets as they weaved through alleys and dodged obstacles in their path.

The chase intensified as police cars raced after them, their headlights casting long shadows against the buildings lining the narrow streets. Clementine could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, fueling her every stride as she pushed herself to her limits.

Kwamin followed close behind, his breath coming in ragged gasps as they cut through a small park, thinking they escaped the officers. Sadly, once they reappeared on the other side of the park, both Clementine and Kwamin were tackled to the ground rather harshly by two officers. Despite struggling fiercely and yelling some rather colourful curses, both teens were taken down to the station.



"Hello, Mr. Fraser. Hello, this is the principal of Rowling College, I'm calling because this is the fifth time this month Miss Fraser hasn't shown up to her classes. Yes, I know. No, we weren't able to contact her. I'm afraid if she keeps skipping out on her classes any more, she will be dropped from our college."



"Hello, Mr. Fraser. This is Officer Jones, yes, we have your sister... What she's charged with? Breaking and entering, vandalism, fleeing and eluding an officer and resisting arrest. You too, see you tomorrow."

Clementine was sitting in a holding cell, a rather familiar holding cell. She had a few scratches on her face, after getting tackled to the asphalt. Honestly, it didn't hurt nearly as much, as the first few times she had her struggles with the cops of New York. The holding cell was mostly temporary though and was only there the keep her from running off and causing more vandalism.
Mainly, Clementine was waiting for her brother or brothers to pick her up like they usually did.. Clementine rolled her eyes, knowing she was in for a lesson about all manners of bullshit from her brother Duncan. Touching her scraped lip, she winced, it hurt a bit, even after getting her scrapes cleaned.

Clem's antiques were like clockwork - Errol loved his sister and found her escapades amusing at times. This was not one of those times. Stood in the middle of two small groups, Errol's black shades peered at the glowing screen of his smart phone, trying his hardest not to convey irritation. In the middle of a weapons deal, both Errol and his closest friend and confidant, Noa, were mere moments from closing the deal and securing a decent profit for the Strays. Then the young gang member received a text from an insider at one of the NYPD precincts scattered around the Big Apple, informing him that his baby sister was in lock up. Again.

Not wanting to have his older half-brother in his ear, whining about how his influence eggs on Clem and her antiques, when they both knew it was all a play for their father's attention, Errol took it upon himself to head to the precinct and get her released. Forced to hand over the negotations to another member of the Strays and lose the credit for the sale, Errol begrudgingly made his way to his car. A yellow Lexus LC, gifted to him by the Strays' leader, Gervonta. With Noa accompanying him to the precinct, Errol remained cool and collected all the way up until he entered the drivers' seat and turned the keys in the ignition.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Errol threw his head back and groaned with an annoyed tone. "Coño! ¿A qué está jugando esa hermana mía?!" he exclaimed in exasperated Spanish before switching back to English "You know how good this'd looked to Gervonta if we'd closed out the deal?" a thick Brooklyn accent escaped the young man's lips before briefly pausing. "I'm talkin' a biiiiig cut of the profits. Now your tellin' me that payaso Hector's gonna get the cut we earned? Man, am I gonna have some words with that sister of mine. Trust that."

Everything he'd just explained, Noa already knew and Errol knew that Noa knew, but the urge to rant about his shortcomings in life always overrode his logic. Pressing the sole of his boot against the gas pedal, Errol began the begrudging journey to the precinct his sister was located.

Passing under the bright street lights and speeding through the bustling New York traffic, Errol's thoughts streamed through his mind like a river. Lowering the window, the young man let one arm hang out of the window as he enjoyed feeling the air caress his features. He could have gotten to the precinct much faster thanks to his mutation but, there was something about taking a leisurely drive and really taking in one's surroundings.

Glancing over toward Noa, he shot her a playful grin and asked "How much you willin' to bet we'll see Duncan?" he then waved his hand in a dismissive manner "Forget it. Knowin' my luck, he'll definitely be there."

Errol played a thousand different scenarios in his mind based on what would come from a meeting with his older brother. Meetings between the two were far and few between, and saying their relationship was strained was putting it lightly. Duncan had always treated Errol like crap ever since his existence as their dad's secret love child was discovered. Errol always felt it was rich that Duncan had the nerve to feel any kind of way toward him when he had no choice in being Giovanni's son. Duncan had this frustrating way of making Errol feel as if he was a mistake, or wasn't worthy of living and he resented him for it. Throughout the entire time Errol lived with their father, Duncan was never there except for summer vacations, and now he wants to pretend he cares about Clem? The four-eyed adicto. Thinks just 'cause he was an X-Man he's better than everyone.

After a relatively short drive, Errol pulled up and parked next to the sidewalk a few metres away from the precinct. Just before stepping out, the young criminal braced himself for what was to come. If Duncan attempted to pin Clem's behaviour on Errol again, he couldn't promise that both of them wouldn't be owing the city thousands of dollars in property damage once he was done wasting his big brother.

Between Errol’s lack of reaction and their sudden departure, Noa didn’t need to be a telepath to understand what had transpired. At this point, she knew more about the inner workings of Errol’s family better than her own, especially how tumultuous it could be. Still, she understood that familial ties were not so easily cut and she knew that his responsibility towards his sister outweighed his responsibility to the Strays.

Lingering behind Errol with no real sense of urgency and a cigarette dangling idly between her fingers, Noa slid into the passenger seat and cracked open the window a couple of inches. Unphased by his outburst, which was commonplace by now, she remained silent, allowing him to finish his venting before producing a small orange bottle from her pocket which rattled with pills. “Xanax?” She offered, half-joking, before placing the bottle in the cup holder.

“What’s that saying? Kill two birds with one stone? Bring her to the next deal and show her how to not get caught by the police.” She replied, remaining cool and collected in spite of Errol’s irritation. It wasn’t easy to anger Noa, but then she had little to be angry about unlike Errol who spent so much of his time chasing his responsibilities. Noa didn’t have to worry about her younger brother anymore since he returned to France. He was safe far from the city and far from her.

Idly gazing out of the window, she brought the cigarette up to her lips before the conversation demanded her attention again. “Ah yes, my favourite sibling from your dysfunctional family.” She replied sarcastically. “Say what you will but Clem really knows how to bring people together.” She teased. Previous experiences dictated that any charges Clem received were likely to be minor but Duncan’s presence would likely cause more upset than a petty crime.

Noa knew how Errol felt about his older brother and based on what he had told her, she was pretty certain that she knew how Duncan felt about his younger brother too - though of course she had only heard Errol’s point of view. It was enough to at least form a prejudiced judgment. Even with the biased knowledge she had, it was hard to dismiss the notion that Duncan had been dealt a better hand of cards in life than his siblings, so any resentment from Errol was understandable in her eyes.

In any case, as long as the night didn’t end with anything more than bickering then it would be another successful family reunion.

In the moments before stepping out, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder in an offer of moral support. “It’ll be okay.” She attempted to reassure him. “I won’t let him talk down to you but you try and be reasonable too.” She removed her hand and reached for the car door, her tone and attitude shifting as she did. “Ok? And then we can go and get some of those sausage dog… things. The sausage and the bread. Uhh... hot dogs.” She clicked her fingers after remembering the word.

After closing the car door, she used the cover of the car to obscure herself from view as she crushed the remainder of the cigarette under her heel before joining Errol and slipping her hands into her pockets.

Duncan Fraser stared at the screen of his phone, dazed. It was a given that Clementine would stir up trouble again. Yet the timing could not have been worse.

Burying his face in his hands, Duncan let out a sigh. It was almost unbelievable how terrible the cards were that life had recently dealt him. The break-up with Alba, Corleone’s auspicious warning, the canceled funding, and – of course – Clementine. Any sane man would’ve folded. He had chosen to bluff instead.

“Doctor Fraser?” The woman sounded impatient. “We’re already live.”
With some effort, he pulled himself together. “Right, yes. Sorry”
She gestured toward the stage, where two seats stood opposite of each other. One was filled already.

“Our first guest tonight is a doctor in biochemistry and mutant genetics, but you may know him best as the former X-man Red Haze. Please welcome, Doctor Fraser!”
There were only a dozen paces between him and the chair. The thunderous applause made it feel like a hundred. With a short and awkward wave to the audience, Duncan stepped into the light and view of the cameras. Too many, in his opinion.

The chair wasn’t comfortable.

“It’s amazing to have you here on our show Doctor Fraser.” The other man was in his 40s, with blond-dyed hair in a tight ponytail. His name was Brandon Walker. One of the most popular show hosts of the last decade. And like any talk show Duncan had ever watched, Brandon began with a duel of pleasantries.
“You might, dare I say it, perhaps be the most sophisticated guest we’ve ever had on this panel.”

“Really? Well, thank you. I am glad to be here.” He faked a smile, the way his father used to do.

“Now, with this unprecedented surge of mutants making themselves known, there are so many questions I’ve been dying to ask. First off-” The man leaned forward a little, interlacing his fingers. “Doctor Fraser, do you think mutants are dangerous?”

“Not inherently, no.” Came the delayed response.

“Inherently?” Sharp blue eyes studied him. On the internet, millions more did. A single slip of the tongue could warrant a hate-crime.

“I would argue that all people are dangerous when they are afraid and misunderstood. Unfortunately, that is the reality for many minorities out there. Including us.”

“But can we really talk about us-” he gestured to Duncan and himself, “as the same people? Because Professor Louwman who we had on our show last week said, and I quote, ‘new species emerge when mutations produce individuals who can outperform the groups they came from.’ He called you a new species.” The host gave him a questioning look.

Duncan nodded. “There’s a lot of scientists who think so and personally, I agree. But-“ he raised a finger and said, “we are still of the genus ‘Homo’. That is the collective name for species that scientists consider human. Like how we define both German Shepherds and Golden Retrievers dogs, while the owners know that they act very different.”

The host chuckled. “I see, thank you for explaining that to us.” Duncan doubted that he cared. “So, you think we can coexist peacefully?” Before Duncan could answer, the host continued. “Because I did some reading and as you know, the more primitive animals tend to go extinct because the strong outcompete the weak. Us-“ he paraphrased with his fingers “-primitive humans, could be totally eliminated that way too, couldn’t we?” He paused, then added “eliminated by the strong. By the mutants.”

The host was looking for drama. For confrontation. The best Duncan could do was laugh it away.
“Those are some very Darwinian principles. Fortunately for us, our society is built on ethics instead.” Duncan retorted. “What is the saying again? The meek shall inherit the earth?”

The host smiled with perfect white teeth. “Ah yes, the meek shall inherit the earth.”

-

It took three hours to travel from the studio back to the cheap hotel room he had rented. Room 511B. Fifth-floor, 11th door on the right side of the hallway. Of course, as was always his luck, the reservation hadn’t come through and all they could offer was a room that hadn’t be cleaned yet at the end of the hallway. He wasn’t going to unpack any of his luggage there. From what he could tell, the couple that had been in this room before him had really gone to town.

Duncan sighed. The interview had went on for an hour and a half. A ‘talk show’ they called it, while most of their viewers listened to it as podcast. At least he hoped that his appearance on the show would help the rising tensions between the two groups simmer down a little. X-man or not, the feelings of responsibility were still there.

He plucked the remote from the bed and switched on the television. Perhaps he could still catch the tail end of the show. It wouldn’t do him any good to know how they had edited it to paint him in a bad light – surely it wouldn’t – but he was curious nevertheless. That was how he fell asleep twenty minutes later. In the chair he had placed in front of the tv. Bored by his own words.

Until the sounds of gunshots tore through the hallway.

Duncan leapt out of his chair, wide awake in an instant. His glasses were already off – his true sight cloaking the world in dull gray and vibrant, eager red where he could find it. The most obvious source was below him. The red pattern of the room’s carpet flowed to him like liquid fire and formed a machete in his waiting hand. He considered drawing on more but knew he couldn’t afford to utilize anything larger indoors. Then, with caution, Duncan opened the door to the hallway.

He stalked through the hotel’s hallway with urgency, phone held to his ear – calling his emergency number. Alba Rodriguez. Better known as The Heron. A celebrated X-man and coincidentally, also his ex since a week.

No wonder she didn’t pick up.

The floor was eerily quiet, save for his own heavy heartbeat. A door was kicked in. Room 511B. It dawned on him then and there. Whoever this was had come searching for him.

He silently counted to three in his head. Then barged in.

The room was identical to his own. The sheets of the double bed were pulled back to reveal the forms of two motionless men. A figure stirred beside the bed, and Duncan didn’t wait. The red-translucent machete scattered into needles and blasted in the figure’s general direction like a shotgun round.

She – he could tell the figure was a she now – danced elegantly to the side somehow evading the brunt of his attack. Not hesitating either, the woman emptied her clip on him.

The carpet dulled in an instant as its red colour leapt up to form a riot shield on his arm. The bullets slammed against it to no avail. Before he could counterattack, she leapt through the window. Duncan rushed toward it. Yet all he found below was the darkness of the night.

-

If there was one good thing to be said about any of this, then it had to be that he was supposed to be at the police department anyways. The state he arrived in, however, was anything less than desirable. He’d enjoyed a full three hours of sleep, a visit of the police, the manager’s angry tirade, and a fine for destroying the carpets. To say that it showed, well that was an understatement.

He held on tight to his take-away coffee as he mentally prepared to deal with both Clementine and the other one. If he even bothered to show up.

When his number finally flickered on the big screen and he could walk to the front desk, his cup was already halfway empty. The conversation that followed felt equally long to him. As if the officer was just trying to find an excuse to keep the conversation going.

”Listen, just tell me how much the bail is and where I should sign. I’ve had a long night, so-“ He stopped mid-sentence. The digital board hanging above the front desk vibrated in a way that made him squint to read the numbers.

That meant one of two things. Either he really shouldn’t have bought this fourth coffee, or the third of the merry band was here. Electrical devices did that when Errol was close. No one was able to tell that way. No one but him. He had theorized before that it had to do with their parentage. In truth, he wasn’t sure.

“Right.” As if the day couldn’t have gotten worse. Errol actually decided to show up. “Let’s hurry this along. I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible."

Clementine sat on the mattress in her holding cell, a small orb of fiery plasma twirled in the palm of her hand. The warm glow of the flames cast dancing shadows on the cold, grey walls around her. She was mesmerized by the flickering light, a familiar comfort in the midst of chaos.

Ever since her powers appeared, she had always felt a certain draw to heat, an inexplicable connection that seemed to soothe her restless soul. It was as if the fiery energy resonated with something deep within her, offering solace in moments of uncertainty. Despite the fatigue weighing heavy on her eyelids, Clementine hadn't gotten much sleep, if any at all. For a brief moment, she had nodded off, her mind drifting into a restless slumber. But the sudden arrival of two officers, dragging a yelling and screaming man down the hallway to a holding cell opposite hers, jolted her awake once more.

The commotion echoed through the dimly lit corridor, mingling with the distant sounds of voices and footsteps. Clementine watched in silence as the officers wrestled with their unruly prisoner, the man's protests falling on deaf ears. the man's deranged screaming of blood and murder caused the young redheaded teenager to think back to her own first time she got caught.
She remembered how disappointed her brother Duncan was, while her other brother, Errol only added wood to the fire by defending their little sister's action of breaking one boy's arm and another's nose after they instigated some rather brutal teasing against a 16-year-old Clementine about her social stature and lack of parents.

The problem had been that one of the boy's parents was rather well-connected and wanted to sue, forcing Duncan to pull song strings putting the heat on him.

With the sound of shoes against concrete and a key unlocking her holding cell, Clementine was taken out of her reminiscing, the teenager knew one of her brothers or both, had arrived to pick her up, like a parent with their child after the first of school. The officer who stood in the doorway was an older gentleman and one of the few who every so often tried to offer Clementine help.

Clementine never took the officer's help.

Not because she hated him or anything of the like, she just didn't see the point, he couldn't give her, what she wanted...

"Hey there kiddo, your brothers are here to pick you up" explained the older officer watching Clementine get up from the bed and leave the holding cell.

The walk of shame down the hallways to the door leaving out of the holding cells was an all the well walk. At first, it bothered Clementine, but now it had almost become part of a routine for her. The officer led Clementine through another couple of doors until she found herself face to face with her brother, or a shitty-looking version of her brother, by the looks of it.

Oh, this was not going to be fun, so why not throw a bit of gasoline on, before heated lesions would hit her? "You look like shit" commented Clementine dryly, holding her oversized jacket under her arm with her hands shoved into her pockets. Looking from her oldest brother to Errol, the middle child of the three, a smile appeared despite the minor pain when smiling, as she gave Errol a tight hug. Letting go of her favourite brother, she glanced at Noa, having seen her a couple of times to know that her older brother trusted the woman. For a brief time, the teenager even thought they were banging.

Clementine faced her oldest brother again, "can we leave now?" She asked, crossing her arms.

Errol's black shades eyed the small orange bottle in Noa's hand, he snickered instead of answering verbally. Noa's suggestion about bringing Clem to the next deal earned her a raised brow. "Naw." he shook his head "I want her to find her own path, but I don't want her involved in what we do. I'll take vandalism over anything me and you do." he said in a serious tone, a rare instance for him.

Letting out a huff through his nose, Errol did find Noa's joke about Clem "bringing the family together" amusing but even he couldn't allow himself to laugh about a situation involving Duncan. The young criminal appreciated Noa in more ways than one, she always knew how to ease his nerves and was able to lighten up any situation. But not only that, she really was like family to him - even more than his own blood relatives. They came up together in the Strays and found solace as young mutants trying to find their place in a world that hated and feared them.

Errol could physically feel his blood pressure lower when he felt Noa place her hand on his shoulder. His tensed muscles relaxed and let out a calm sigh. Grateful for her words, he then offered her a grin when she struggled figuring out the word for hot dog. "Sausage dog? Really? That's new, even for you." Errol stepped out of the car and shut the door behind him "We gotta work on your English, mi estimada" he added, flexing his own bilinguality.

There he was, as he entered the precinct Duncan was the first thing he unfortunately saw. Sucking his teeth, Errol approached his older brother and as he drew closer, he noticed Duncan's disheveled appearance. A twinge of concern panged in his stomach but was gone as fast as it appeared. Standing beside him and refusing to make eye contact, Errol placed his hands in his jacket pocket he spoke up.

"You look like shit."

Unaware that Duncan was already in the process of getting their sister released, Errol impatiently asked "Are you getting Clem out or not?"

The officer glanced between the pair of brothers, the animosity between the two clearly obvious. Clearing his throat, he began to answer "Yes, well... Doctor Fraser was already in the process of--".

Interrupting him, Errol interjected "Yeah, yeah. I'll pay half the bail." dumping a stack of cash in the palm of the officer's hand. Finally turning his head to face Duncan "She is my sister too. After all." Errol added.

During the small wait for Clementine, Errol cut the awkward silence with a question "Soooo, why are you, a distinguished member of society, all roughed up like this?" He paused briefly and then turned to address Noa, whispering: "And why wasn't it me." humurously.

Finally, Clementine arrived in the company of one of the officers and a small smile creeped on his face. A snicker escaped the middle brother's mouth following Clem's comment on Duncan's appearance. She was definitely his sister. Errol returned his sister's hug and squeezed her tighter than she did him "Hey, Tangerine. Missed you, amor.". Errol observed the brief exchange between Clementine and Noa, recalling the time where she thought that he and Noa were sleeping together. Errol and Noa had never laughed so hard at anything in their entire 24 years of life.

Then, Errol turned to Duncan following Clem's question. He was curious as to who would be taking her home this time.

Noa nodded in agreement at Errol’s reasoning behind trying to protect his sister from following the same path as them. It was understandable. Having a younger brother herself, she knew the demand of carrying the world on your shoulders all too well. Older siblings made mistakes so that younger ones didn’t have to but clearly Errol’s older brother wasn’t doing too well at fulfilling his responsibilities judging by the state of the family.

“Even worse, it’s the same word in French.” She admitted with an amused smile. “I just never had one until a couple of years ago.” It was double the culture shock of moving from a small town to the city while also moving to another country but she found solace in Errol and his quirks. He had shown her more kindness and understanding than most, quickly earning her trust and in turn - friendship.

People who knew what she was capable of often treated her with a degree of caution, even though she had gained much greater control over her abilities or rather… condition in the last few years, but it was different with Errol. She could let her guard down around him and she learned to be more relaxed and enjoy whatever little semblance of a normal life she had left.

“Relax. It won’t take long.” She told Errol quietly as they caught the first sight of Duncan. Whether that would be true or not was another matter but at least maybe if he thought it was true then he would follow through. It was everyone’s prerogative for the evening to avoid becoming heated.

Noa leaned against the wall with her arms folded while the brothers sorted out their affairs, smirking at Errol’s comment towards Duncan’s appearance. Her eyes briefly glossed over the comings and goings of the station idly while listening into the conversation beside her. After catching Errol’s pointed remark towards Duncan, she spoke up without looking at the pair. “I hope everyone’s playing nice.” She addressed neither in particular. While Errol would’ve had her undying support if he were to put Duncan in his place, now was neither the time nor place.

Then again, maybe the two of them sharing a jail cell for the night could be the family therapy they needed.

She stifled a snicker as Errol whispered to her before clearing her throat to try and focus the attention on the situation at hand, though she was still smiling, and thankfully Clem arrived before long and Noa offered a brief single wave as a greeting when they caught each other’s gaze for a moment. They may not have known each other well but Clementine’s reputation clearly preceded her and as Errol’s sister then she was practically like extended family, though she couldn’t say she’d give the same consideration to Duncan.

Though she had a few choice words she wanted to say at that moment, she held her tongue.

While a lot of transactions were taken care of digitally, hand-written signatures were still considered the norm for bailouts as far as he could tell. That, or the officers he spoke with, had liked having his signature. Regardless of what the reasoning was, writing contact information down by hand took time. Too much time.

“You look like shit.”

Duncan closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate with an audible sigh. “That’s what happens to you when you have to fly over because your sibling messed up.” He glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. “Again.”

Of course, that wasn’t the actual reason why he had come to the States. There was a conference three days from now in Washington DC. It could attract investors, the thing his research needed most. There was a lot riding on this one too, as he had already refused a serious cash infusion from Corleone’s foundation. It had been another humiliating blow by Giovanni, as his refusal to accept that support had angered most of his colleagues. Yet Duncan had high hopes for this conference. For the future. After all, he had brought his trump card.

Just as he signed the final page, Errol expressed his impatience. The officer addressed him politely, to which Duncan added. “And I will not be doing it again.” It came out coldly, as it always did. Yet this time there was truth in it. Without funding, he had no income. At least not nearly enough to pay both Clementine’s rent and her many, many bills. He had his savings, of course, but he would not spend those on his ungrateful sister. That was a line he refused to cross.

Errol quickly offered to pay half the bill and did so before Duncan could refuse. He looked at the stack of money, then to Errol. “And where did you get all that?” He put down the pen. “Yes, I suppose I can see the resemblance.”

His remark wasn’t enough to push his half-brother away. Instead, Errol started to talk about his appearance again. “Try watching the news.” Was all Duncan returned. What else was there to tell? That someone had tried to kill him last night? He barely even knew the details of it, let alone the motive. “Why did you come here anyway Errol. You knew that I’d have this sorted.” To this day, he could never understand why Errol bothered to show up for issues like these, and not those that actually mattered. Their kind was oppressed, and Errol was one of the strongest Duncan knew. Yet he hadn’t ever used his powers responsibly, nor had he stepped up for mutantkind. No, Giovanni’s prized second son had joined a gang, just like his father. Duncan couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t all just part of some bigger plot to merge their two gangs into one. The idea alone was reason enough not to get attached and to keep his eyes on his half-brother. Because if he was right, then taking care of it would be his responsibility. As would be the safekeeping of his other responsibility.

The one that the brothers both had to pay a sizable sum of dollars for to see. Not that it was worth it either – the girl felt the immediate need to call him out too. Exasperated, he said “Yeah, I know.”

It was painful to watch her be more affectionate toward Errol. Not only because of his own gripes with the Acosta-side, but also because he couldn’t imagine Errol setting the right example.

With a handshake and thank you to the officer, Duncan finished his part of the transaction. Then answered Clementine. “Yes. We’re leaving as soon as I find a cab.” Duncan cautiously brushed past them toward the station’s exit.

He was reminded of why he decided against living in New York himself the second he stepped outside. The overwhelming noise, crowded streets, and many cars made it look anything but peaceful.

As his eyes darted uneasily over the many people, Duncan realized it wasn’t the city that made him uncomfortable. It was the thought of last night’s attempted assassination. She could be staring at him right now, and he wouldn’t have the faintest idea that she did.

He stood still for a moment, scanning the streets more actively than he had done before.

Clementine was a bit surprised she didn't get a lecture from her brother or even just a disappointed look, though the girl didn't show her surprise and kept her poker face. She almost wanted to get angry at both her brothers for making such a quick event of her breaking the law. Then again, she was happy that they could leave, despite having been familiar with the inside of a cell and knowing most of the officers by name, she rather loathed being in a cell.

She's never told anyone but at one point she nearly melted down the holding cell's door from anger against everything, but she didn't. Clementine never knew why she didn't burn everything down like she knew she was capable of. In truth, Clementine seldom uses her powers, because of the times she did use them, it was from her explosive emotions, which in a way scared her

The is something wild and uncontrollable inside of her that is just waiting to claw its way out of her and take control of her.

Nevertheless, the moment they exited the police station, Clementine stopped by the top of the stairs, closed her eyes and released a sigh she didn't know she held in. Raising her face towards the cloudless sky as the bright morning sun's warmth touched her face. Having stayed inside a dark room with no real way to feel the sun on her skin, was as if you had taken away her ability to taste.

Clementine just stood there for a few seconds, bathing in the radiating heat of the sun. Bathing in the sun's light was the closest for Clementine, to be truly at peace, letting the radiation and heat completely engulf her.

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again and for a brief second, instead of her pale blue coloured eyes, bright orange colours radiated, before they faded back to her natural pale blue eyes. Taking her oversized jacket back on, Clementine went down the stairs and joined her siblings and Noa.

With her hands in her pockets, she just waited for one of her siblings to take her home, she needed a path and new clothes, not to mention some food. She was starving. Unlike her brother Duncan, Clementine felt right at home in the big city of New York and didn't share her brother's cautious mind, then again, Clementine had never lived through an assassination attempt.

Duncan's retort to Errol's statement about his older brother's appearance earned him an eye roll from the mutant criminal - which was unfortunately obscured by his black shades. A non-answer, it was Duncan's first language. Folding his arms, Errol ignored what Duncan had to say as he didn't actually care about his wellbeing, he just wanted to stir the pot.

Errol snickered at Duncan's empty threat regarding not paying Clem's bail again. He said this every single time, to no avail. Errol wondered if Duncan actually believed what he was saying or if it was some strange front he put up in order to ward off Clem from doing what she does. Either way, it didn't work. Duncan of course had to comment on how Errol obtained the money he'd given to the cop. Errol flashed Duncan a look as to say "Don't play dumb" in response.

Once more, Duncan tried to throw shade toward Errol's lifestyle, linking it to Clementine's behaviour. "Count your blessings, hermano. Imagine if she took after you." he fired back "Then she'd have a knack for ditching people that need her the most.".

Another non-answer escaped Duncan's lips regarding rough appearance, however the smirk Errol earned from Noa was totally worth it. Letting out a sigh, Errol responded "Who has time for the news?" he asked rhetorically. Duncan went on, asking what he was doing there. Did he really have to ask? Clementine was his sister too, and he didn't want her to follow in his footsteps or find herself trapped in between the drama between Errol and their father.

"¿No es obvio? I wanted to save her from another lecture from you. But sadly, I was too late." Errol answered, giving Duncan a taste of his own medicine by providing him with a non-answer.

Once everything was sorted with Clem, everyone was to be on their way. As Duncan made his way to the exit, Errol turned to face his departing brother. "Save your money, hermano. I'll drop Clem home and then... you can make your way to wherever you're staying from there."

Not taking no for an answer, he sped ahead and purposfully but lightly bumped shoulders with Duncan and discharged a small static shock against his older brother as he did. Subtely establishing dominance. Errol descended the small steps to the sidewalk below and stopped to look at his two siblings, still stood at the top. Duncan looked concerned which piqued Errol's curiosity, although he said nothing this time. Call it brotherly intuiton, but he detected something with Clementine too, although he couldn't put his finger on it. Regardless, he wasn't good with this kind of stuff... you know, emotional stuff, so he wouldn't even know where to start. He wondered if Noa would have a better job doing that or something.

Speaking of Noa, he was thankful she came with him and made it known "Thanks again for coming with." Errol gave his siblings one last once over before continuing "We'll go for our "sausage dogs" after we take Clem home, yeah?" he continued with a wink and a smile.

Errol began to lead the way to his car while calling out to Duncan and Clem "You two gonna stand there all day or what? Car's parked a little down here.". He couldn't wait for this to be over with and to get back to his life. However, Errol thought to himself that maybe he should do a better job in actively dissuading Clementine from getting into trouble. Not only was it interfering with both his and Duncan's life, but also... he knew his sister was too good to be in and out of jail, unlike himself. Errol sat in the driver's seat, waiting for Noa and his half-siblings. Once everyone was inside, Errol was quick to speed off into New York City's endless traffic.

The drive to Clem's from the precinct wouldn't be a long one but still, he couldn't get her home fast enough. Any more time spent with Duncan may result in years taken off Errol's natural lifespan. Assuming he could die... being a sort of living embodiment of electricity and all.

Traffic was proving to be a nightmare tonight. Typical. Errol was forced to stop the car behind yet another red light. It was like the universe was forcing him to spend prolonged time with his siblings tonight or something. Resting his elbow against the window, Errol buried his cheek in his palm and sighed "Dios, dame fuerzas" he whispered to himself. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a jet black unmarked car stop next to them. Alarm bells started to go off, and he perked up in his seat to glare at the driver across from his window. Words were not exchanged, but the expression between Errol and the other driver spoke volumes.

Then another jet black car slowly rolled up to the other side of his car. He'd been in the game long enough to know what this was, what was about to happen. Errol looked at Noa, with a hint of both concern and focus on his features. Errol turned to warn his siblings sat in the backseat but before words could escape his lips. His electrified yellow eyes spotted another black car zooming behind them, milliseconds way from hitting them.

"Shit."

Errol felt his entire body thud against the dashboard as the car slammed into the back of them. Everything happened so fast that even he couldn't process what was happening. As soon as he felt the impact of being hit by the car, he and everyone else were upside down and in the air but this too, past in a flash. Then they were back on the ground still upside down, sliding across the street, shattered glass spread across the roof of the car.

What the hell was this? An attack from dad? A rival gang? Actually, it didn't matter. Whoever was behind this was going to be fried to ashes.

Noa turned her head to try and hide an amused smile at Duncan’s retort. Of course, it didn’t make her like him any more but it was humorous in the moment and it reminded her of the bickering between herself and her brother, though that had been more playful than the poisonous display between Errol and his brother.

It was times like these that she missed her brother but then again it was also times like these that made her thankful she didn’t have such a toxic relationship with him.

“No worries.” She replied with a dismissive hand gesture which turned into a sharp nudge of her elbow into Errol’s side. “Shut up.” She smiled at the teasing which characterised their friendship. “Hang on, she might want one too.” She stopped on the way to the car and called back to Clem. “Clem, do you want a hot dog?” She asked, not offering Duncan the same privilege.

Once they were all in the car, she leaned down to find the shades she had left in the car somewhere, hitting the back of her head on the dashboard as she returned to a sitting position. “Fucking ow.” She muttered, briefly touching the back of her head before moving onto whatever task she was fiddling with next.

Plugging the aux cord into her phone, she browsed music for merely a moment before settling on Mr Blue Sky without offering input from anyone else, joining in once the lyrics kicked in, unperturbed by Errol’s annoyance at the traffic. “Sun is shinin’ in the sky, there ain’t a cloud in sight…”

However, the mood soon changed when it became apparent that there was more to be concerned by than rush hour. Quickly fading into silence, she shared a look with Errol but there was no time for words to be exchanged.

Once they had been hit and their fate sealed, there was nothing they could do in that moment other than pray they made it out on the other side. In one moment, everything stood still and there was a momentary silence until she took a breath that she hadn’t realised she had been holding in and with the breath the silence and stillness disappeared.

Reality hit.

“Errol.” She looked across at her friend and then back towards their other two occupants. “What is happening?” She asked, making no attempt to conceal the panic in her tone.

The pause he had from his family was only temporary. Errol - who had verbally given as good as he got - swept by him almost immediately. The static shock that was delivered made him flinch, and was surely not an accident. Yet the older brother bit his tongue. The better he played along, the earlier he'd be able to get away from them again. Of course, that'd mean having to put up with them in an even smaller space first.

Begrudgingly, Duncan followed them to where Errol had his car parked. "Once you're home we need to have a word Clementine," Duncan said. "because I'm not going to put up with this anymore." Was he going to tell her that he was running out of money? The idea formed a knot in his stomach - there was simply nothing more humiliating than having that conversation with her. "It's for your own good." He wasn't sure who that was directed at. Himself, or her? Duncan tightened his grip on the briefcase he held under his arm. That, the content of his seemingly only piece of luggage, was his final hope.

Once in the car, Duncan moved to the other side to give Clementine the space to enter. As she sat down, he remarked "don't forget to put your seatbelt on." It came out bitterly. That was because they were apparently going for hot dogs first, without bothering to ask him at all. Karma came to his rescue though, as the girl who had asked all of them but him hit her head against the dashboard. At first he ignored that it happened to cut her some slack. That changed when she put the music on. "Is your head okay? Because I can't believe anyone in their right mind would put this on." He commented.

Duncan leaned back and grumpily stared out of the window, waiting for the group to persecute him again, when a black van obstructed his view. Cursing under his breath, Duncan shifted to stare out of the other window only to watch the same thing happen. He reached for his glasses. "I don't think they're-"

It felt as if an immense weight was thrown on him while gravity had lost it's grasp. The world spun outside the car, and a waterfall of glass came cascading down on him from behind. Or below? Then his head spun. His neck filled with sharp jolts of pain.

And the survival instinct of a battle-hardened veteran kicked in.

'Red' came to him from the blood on Clementine, the speedometer's pointer, his own red socks, and wherever else he could find it to form a vibrantly coloured orb the size of a golf ball in the palm of his hand. He slammed his hand against the car door, and the thing violently burst from its hinges. The door skidded to a halt five meters from the wreckage.

Duncan rolled out, glass crunching underneath his jacket as he did. His red blazing eyes scoured his surroundings. The collision had pushed them toward the center of the crossing. He counted five jet-black vans spread over two of the four streets. Men in black uniforms came pouring out of them. Each of them pointing an automatic rifle in their direction. He had only a heartbeat to react.

Still crouched down, Duncan drew the red of two cars he spotted in the traffic toward him immediately. The red kept the shape of the cars - he had no time to transform it into anything else - and positioned them on either side to cover the wreckage.

A storm of bullets slammed into them almost immediately, forming cracks in the haphazardly thrown-together barriers. He barely found cover behind the hood of the translucent truck to his left, and saw bullets graze the wreckage that was once Errol's yellow car.

"Couldn't you at least have gotten one in red?" Duncan yelled out to his half-brother.

Clementine completely ignored her brother's bickering over her, she was used to it by now. Following Duncan to Errol's car, a raised eyebrow at the sudden offer of a hot dog but didn't comment on it, because she wouldn't say no to free food and it. With hands in her pockets, the red-haired girl just gave her brother a clear 'whatever' when rolling her eyes, she'd heard that threat before. "Oh great" Clementine dragged on the 'ea'.

"Another boring lecture. Can't wait" was Clementine's answer bathed in sarcasm. She just wanted to get home and on with her life and she did not need lectures from a brother who was never around, at least Errol came to visit now and then, unfortunately, their interaction often ended in unnecessary arguments about their father, Errol not wanting Clementine to join him and heatedly arguing why he should let her join the gang he's in.

In fact, given that Clementine and Errol had grown up, Errol was perhaps one of the few people in the world that knew, his little sister, only wanted to join the gang, to get attention from their father. Clementine wasn't even interested in the crime part but would do it if it meant getting Giovanni's attention.

And yet, despite their heated arguments and shouting matches, Clementine still loved her brother.

Getting into Errol's car, Clementine was about to go for the seat belt, but hearing her oldest brother's not only bitter tone, the inner annoying rebellious little sister, took over and she let go of the seat belt from her hand. She even did it by holding eye contact with her brother, giving him a defiant look before turning in her seat to look over the window on her side. However, the accent of Noa cursing from hitting her head made Clementine almost snort, but felt it.

Clementine tried to hide her small smirk, hearing her oldest brother sassing the woman's taste in music and she felt a need to join in, unknowingly bonding with Duncan over something.

"1970s called, Gen X want their taste back," said Clementine still looking out the window resting her cheek in her palm, adding to her brother's comment towards Noa putting on Mr. Blue Sky. The red-haired even felt a bit cringe, hearing Noa sing along to Mr Blue Sky, rolling her eyes.

Clementine being the slowest to react to the black cars flanking their car, only managed to look in the direction that Errol looked before feeling a sharp bolt of pain through her entire body. At that moment, as the car flipped through the air, Clementine would have cursed herself for not listening to her brother earlier, if she wasn't too busy with almost flying through the rear window.

Everything hurt. She was pretty sure she was bleeding... again.

She felt rather disoriented, laying on her back, on the ceiling of the car's roof. "Fucking ouch" came it, copying Noa's cursing from earlier. Sensing Duncan climbing out of the tipped car, Clementine began to pad herself down, hissing upon touching her cheek, not to mention, that she was pretty sure she had hit her head on something in the car.

Surprisingly, from what she could tell, she had escaped the crash with only minor wounds.

Then a thundering storm of hundreds if not thousands of hail-sounding banging was released upon them yet never hitting them. The only thought that went through Clementine was "shit, shit shit shit," while climbing out, she attempted to get up, cutting her forearm on the glass on the ground.

Noa's concerned questioning passed through Errol's ears, muffled and barely audible. His ears burned with fury and only one thought lived in his head: he was going to tear apart whoever put his family at risk. Without so much as a word, Errol was the first to take action. His physal form dematerialised into pure golden electricity, which passed through the car and shot toward the closest street light in an instant.

Reaching the street light, Errol passed through the pole and shot toward the street light's bulb. From the bulb, Errol's electrified form then shot toward the ground. Beginning from his feet, the golden streak of electricity began to materialise Errol's corporeal body. Slightly hunched over in an almost primal stance, his fists were clenched as yellow static ebb and flowed through his body.

Teeth gritted, he growled "You must've lost your fuckin' minds!"

He watched two more jet black vans pull up and some kitted out men exit the vehicles. This was more than some gang related shit. Again, it didn't matter. Errol was quick to act, reaching for his shades he removed them from his face and revealed his glowing electrified eyes. Two bolts of yellow electricity shot from his eyes straight toward one of the vans. The sheer force of the electric bolt flipped the van over and caused a small explosion taking out some of the armed men who were unable to take cover or avoid the blast.

Hopefully that would take some of the heat off of Noa, Duncan and Clementine. Errol once more dematerialised his body and shot himself toward another street light to evade the incoming fire headed his and the others' way. Rematerialising, he heard Duncan call out to him as Errol threw his arm forward and shot a chain of electricity, hitting one of their attackers before spreading and hitting more.

"My bad for not knowin' you'd need my car to be red for this exact moment!" he yelled back sarcastically.

The sound of propellers then filled the area, momentarily distracting Errol as he glanced up to see a helicopter hovering above them all. Luckily for him, it seemed to get the armed men to halt their fire - at least temporarily. Errol electrified himself and travelled to a street light further back, closer to his allies. What was this now?

Errol's internal question would soon be answered as a rope was thrown out of the helicopter with four individuals descended from it, and one outright jumping out of it. The one who made the jump landed on the street, creating a small crater from it. Errol's glowing eyes watched the man who'd made the impressive display suddenly coat his entire body with some sort of rock material. These recent arrivals, they were mutants?

The worst part about all this wasn't even the fact that his pride and joy had just been totalled, or that they were now being attacked by more adversaries. It was the fact that Errol could still here Mr Blue Sky playing. Leave it to Noa to pick the worst possible tune to fight to.

Rather unceremoniously, she unfastened her seatbelt and dropped onto the underside of the roof with a grunt before dragging herself through the shattered window to escape the wreckage - though the sight she was greeted with wasn’t much nicer.

Pushing through the bruises and soreness, she got to her feet and froze in shock upon the realisation that the group was being confronted with numerous automatic rifles among their unknown adversaries. Only upon Duncan’s transformation did she snap out of the trance to face the gravity of the situation.

Ducking back down behind the car, she tried to ascertain everyone’s whereabouts by peering over the hood, though it would be hopeless trying to keep track of Errol who was as erratic as he was electric.

“Errol, what did you do?!” She called out to him among the chaos, naturally assuming that he was the culprit.

Still crouched against the car, she looked up upon hearing the whirr of helicopter blades and in the opportune moment she sprinted towards the nearby burning black van with a couple of its downed men outside. She pulled the rifle from one of them and crouched with her back to the van for cover, taking her gloves off as she did.

The sound of footsteps approaching from around the back of the van caught her attention. Silently, she approached her would-be assailant and thrust the end of the rifle upwards, stunning him with a follow-up punch for good measure.

The man was immediately incapacitated, reacting in a way that appeared akin to anaphylaxis but Noa stepped over him, unconcerned and with the knowledge that he would likely be fine.

Her attention returned to Errol and she got the first glimpse of one of the new assailants, one of whose appearance was particularly disturbing. “Fils de pute.” She muttered under her breath.

"I fear this isn't Errol's doing" Duncan growled, his eyes scanning for 'red.' He found plenty in billboards and the signs of a corner restaurant. Then there were also the red traffic lights, although he would save those for an emergency. The newly formed red orb in his hand widened, taking the shape of a large kite shield.

Then the hail of bullets stopped, and the presence of the gunmen was overshadowed by the roaring sound of a helicopter's whirring blades. He made use of the short respite to glance back at Clementine. She wasn't doing okay - of course she wasn't. He doubted that his sister, or anyone remotely sane for that matter, had ever been in a situation like this before. "You're going to be okay Clem. Just stay near me." The red he had manifested as cars to cover them become formless, part of it streaming toward Clementine. It surrounded her and took the shape of semi-transparent armor. The kind a medieval knight would wear. What remained of the energy pool shifted back to Duncan, forming a spiked ball and chain in his waiting hand. A crude tool, but enough to keep whatever was coming on its toes.

The first made the ground shudder as he landed. His eyes were on Errol. Four others followed, descending from ropes that had been tossed from the helicopter. Duncan stepped in between them and Clementine, only now noticing that Noa had already moved to a different position.

Three of the four had set their sights on him and Clementine. One he recognized - his assailant from last night. She still dressed in black, her hair hanging loose over his shoulders and her face covered with a mask that him think of a fly. Perhaps that was because her quick, abrupt movements and the yellow bulbous vizor of her mask unnerved him. The other was a man whose light, feather-like chainmail armor reminded him of a bird. He too wore a mask, one with a sharp nose and round orange eyes that shone like lanterns.

"Right-" Duncan was the first to break the tense silence of the standoff. "Don't let the fact that I'm here on a work VISA fool you. I am not going to pull any punches if you don't stand down." He flicked his wrist, causing the chain with the spiked ball at the end to crack like a whip. "Now."

Both rushed forward.

Clementine had the worse day ever in her own honest opinion. First, she gets manhandled by police, then thrown into a holding cell for a night and now she's in the middle of what felt like a warzone! Oh and the worst of it all, that damn song was still blasting from their flipped broken car.

So much was happening and all Clem could do, was hide behind her brother for protection. She had never truly seen her brother's powers in action. not truly. Clem had only seen her brother, Duncan's powers in action from a monitor and that was from a hiding place, while their father watched recordings of Duncan's X-men days.

As she tried to sit up with her back against the car, she finally felt the searing pain pulse through her arm. As she looked down at her now bloodied arm, hearing nothing but her pulse pumping with everything else a faint muffled noise. Everything felt slow like she was affected by slow motion.

"You're going to be okay Clem. Just stay near me."

Clementine looked up at her brother holding the line bravely, facing what certainly was odds against them, yet he faced them anyway. Another pulse of pain hit her from her arm as she was pulled out of her daze watching everything speed up around her, like fast-forwarding only it was fast-forwarding out of her daze.

Noise, voices, bullets and every other possible sound became clear as the day. Clem released a pained whimper as she felt her body begin to hyperventilate.

As Clementine's surroundings morphed into a chaotic blur of noise and motion, she felt an overwhelming surge of panic rising within her chest. Her heart pounded with adrenaline-fueled intensity, drowning out the cacophony of sounds around her. With each pulse of searing pain shooting through her arm, she struggled to maintain her composure, but the overwhelming chaos threatened to consume her.

In a desperate attempt to ground herself, Clementine fixed her gaze on her brother, Duncan, who stood steadfast in the face of danger. His reassuring words echoed in her mind, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. Yet, despite his unwavering resolve, Clementine could feel the tendrils of fear tightening their grip on her.

As her breaths grew shallow and ragged, Clementine's vision began to blur, the world around her spinning in dizzying spirals. Her chest tightened with each passing second, the weight of the situation bearing down on her like a suffocating blanket.

And then, in a fleeting moment of clarity, Clementine's eyes flickered with a bright orange hue, mirroring the fiery intensity of her inner turmoil. It was a subtle but unmistakable sign that her control over her powers was beginning to waver, a silent plea for help in the midst of chaos.

In addition, the tips of Clementine's vibrant ginger hair seemed to shimmer with a faint, ethereal glow, as if touched by the warmth of the sun itself. Though subtle, the radiant display served as a silent testament to her connection to solar energy, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

Duncan would also feel the temperature suddenly grow a couple of degrees behind him, while not near enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to be noticeable.

With each passing moment, the intensity of Clementine's inner struggle seemed to manifest in the world around her. Small, fleeting sparks of plasma danced along her fingertips, crackling with an otherworldly energy that belied her inner turmoil. Though she tried to conceal her growing unease, the subtle display of her powers betrayed her, casting a dim glow in the shadows of the chaotic scene unfolding before her.

As the tension mounted and the danger escalated, Clementine's control over her abilities continued to wane, each flicker of plasma serving as a silent warning of the storm brewing within her. Though she fought to maintain her composure, the overwhelming surge of emotion threatened to unleash a torrent of power beyond her control, a tempest of fire and fury waiting to be unleashed upon the world.

The man in the light, feather-like chainmail armour jumped Duncan first, hitting his red-coloured barrier with a shattering punch which he followed up with a series of punches, in an attempt to keep Duncan's focus on him while the women in quick flashes of movement dashed to the side flanking Duncan to get to Clementine.

Amidst the helicopter's arrival, Errol noticed Noa make her way over to their armed attackers. They'd fought together before, many times, and while Noa's mutation wasn't as offensively desctructive as his, Noa could handle herself in other ways. He carried an appropriate amount of concern for her but knew deep down she would be okay. Same for Duncan, while having never seen him fight, his older brother was a card carrying member of the X-Men. Errol knew that Duncan's experience dwarfed both his and Noa's combined.

It was Clem he truly felt fear for. She was just a kid, his baby sister. She'd never gotten into any fights before, let alone had much experience using her powers unlike the rest of them. The most action she had was getting busted for vandalism. For her to be thrown in the middle of a superpowered warzone, he knew it would be a lot to handle. Although Errol and Duncan literally never saw eye to eye, nor did he hold an inch of trust for their eldest sibling. Errol still knew that Duncan, like himself, would tear through armies to protect Clementine.

Errol's attention returned to the four new arrivals. It appeared they were all in a stand-off. Errol's eyes scanned the immediate area. Duncan was still guarding Clementine, he'd used his abilities to create a red construct that took the shape of a spiked ball and chain. He also managed to construct a red protective armor around Clem. That was good. Noa was over by the vans, focusing the attention of the armed men on to her. It was dangerous but it was needed. Especially when it seemed he and Duncan were about to contend with four unknowns.

Speaking of these four alleged mutants, Errol locked eyes with the mutant who's ability seemed to coat his skin in rock-like armor. The rock man peered at Errol like some sort of predator watching its prey. Errol's eyes furrowed and electric sparks crackled in his eyes. Nah, this rock guy was the real prey.

Duncan broke the silence and the stand-off seemed to end. Errol witnessed two of the other mutants attack Duncan before suddenly feel the ground under him shake. The rock guy broke off into a full charge, headed directly toward Errol. Was this guy some kind of moron? The ambient electricity stored in Errol's body redirected into his hand and forearms. Thrusting his arms forward, Errol shot out a torrent of electricity at the rock man with enough juice to put a man into a coma.

"You gotta death wish or someth--" he started before halting midway through.

Errol was powerful but he didn't have a basic grasp of physics. The mutant, being covered in rock was unaffected by Errol's attacks, his rock armor serving as a sort of insulator. Unaware of what was going on, Errol decided to amplify the intensity of his electric attack but the rock man continued to charge right through it.

When near enough, the rock man loaded up his arm and threw a devastating punch which Errol, in the knick of time, managed to defend by throwing a high guard, supercharging his forearms with electricity to take on the physical impact. The force of the punch still sent him hurtling a few feet back. Errol landed on his back, sliding across the street.

"Oh, shit." he muttered to himself. Errol was officially out of his element.

"Oh good, so we just have you to blame.” She retorted. Unfortunately for Duncan, she would’ve been much more tolerant of the situation they found themselves in if Errol had in fact been to blame. Now he would only put an even larger target on his back for her to direct her spitefulness towards, which stemmed from a biased recounting of events from Errol rather than any real interaction with Duncan.

Upon witnessing the confrontation Errol found himself in, she made use of the limited resources at her disposal and opened the driver’s side door of the burning van as the flames threatened to consume the vehicle. She wedged the rifle between the accelerator and seat to keep the pedal on the floor and leaned across to shift the gear into drive before quickly retreating from the burning vehicle as it sped towards Errol’s attacker.

An inkling of apprehension crept into her mind as she became aware of the low rumbling frequency of another heavy vehicle, or possibly several, heading their direction - knowledge that she was privy to long before it was audible to the average person.

With little to no cover left, she crouched down next to the man who was still suffering from the effects of whatever she had done to him and raided his belt for something of use. With a newly acquired flashbang in her possession she climbed up the fire escape of the neighbouring building in anticipation of what was to come.

When the armoured vehicle expectedly rolled up, an armed man appeared in the roof-hatch of it. Taking the moment of opportunity, Noa dropped down onto the roof of the vehicle and kicked the assailant back into the armoured sarcophagus before dropping the flashbang into the van and closing the hatch to protect herself from its effects.

Once it was over, she dropped herself into the hatch and after a few moments of scuffle she was the only one who emerged from the back doors.

Her attention now focussed on her friend and begrudging allies, she called out to them. “Duncan! Send Clem this way!” She urged, knowing of both the brothers' desire to protect her. As much as she didn't like Duncan, if it was important to Errol then it was important to her.