Luca

TIME: Late night LOCATION: 85th Street Beach STATUS: Closed, @chaotic-luca​

Ice-cream and a chill session at the beach. Even if that’s not how Penelope saw herself spending that particular night, the mutant sure couldn’t complain about it — there was ice-cream and there were stars above her, the cosmic energy flowing right above her. It felt right. And Luca was not a bad company. 

Penelope licked the ice-cream once more, looking as the waves crashed and retreated only a few feet away from where they were sitting. The sand was cold but the night was warm compared to it. It was a perfect night for sitting on the beach and just talk and talk and talk. 

“Okay, so. Let me get this straight,” the blonde began, stretching her legs and leaning back on one hand before she looked at Luca, “you can copy anyone’s abilities, right? How does that work? Do you have to touch them or can you just watch someone use their powers and then copy that?”

Luca was perhaps not overly in love with this young beautiful creature, but she certainly enjoyed her company a lot. She had given away her secret during the first conversation - as Luca was prone to do, because she really wasn’t the type anymore who kept things a secret. Especially not if she was proud of it. She was a proud Lesbian - Panromantic Lesbian - and a Mutant. And both those things were out there. 

She was really enjoying the ice cream, and looked at Penelope when she posed her question, a grin on her face. They weren’t alone on the beach, but she ignored the presence of other people. They were drunk and annoying, she didn’t care much for them. 

“Yeah? Congratulations.” She crosses her arms over her chest, entirely uninclined to believe the woman before her had done anything of the sort. It would have been ironic if she had, though. Maybe then she could pin the body in her trunk on her. Hana attempts to commit the stranger’s appearance to memory should she be questioned on it later if the cops come knocking. The edge of her mouth twitches, none too keen at the potential of being mocked – it was difficult to tell whether this woman meant what she said or was simply spewing nonsense. “Well, take it from me, starting shit around here might mean it’s you being buried in a shallow grave on the beach next time.” 

A frown sweeps across her brow at the mention of Chicago, perking up marginally. “Wait– do you know Jackson? Damien?” The laugh that slips from her lips is crisp, amused by the chance encounter. “Small world. Seems like that whole fucking city has uprooted and come down for some sun, sea and sand.” Hana nods her head towards the twinkling lights of downtown across the stretch of water in response to the other’s question. “Here. Miami-Dade born and raised. I know these streets.” The tip of her tongue wets her bottom lip, looking thoughtful. “So what’s your plan here in Miami? Kick out the other top dogs and make this place your own?”

“Oh, don’t be so harsh,” Luca said with sigh. “Honestly, starting shit in any big city is easy. Do it in a small community and you sure a fucked. I could start a fire here and change of anyone catching me are so slim, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,” she offered. She didn’t really believe that, but for all her big talk, the kind of shit Luca started wasn’t enough to get her in jail or buried at the beach. The kind of shit she was asked to start could. 

Her lips curled at the mention of those names. She did, in fact, know both of those, didn’t think they would ever be used in the same sentence without being the people she expected them to be. “Perhaps I do,” she said in response, curling her hand under her chin. She certainly knew Jackson, one might even say they were besties. “Who can blame them, I love sand,” she commented. 

“I guess you could call it that. My parents didn’t seem to realize the ramification of trying to raise 5 kids at the same time.” Ciara rolled her eyes, annoyance flashing across her face. Not many things aggravated the woman but her family was a sore spot. She loved them, always would unfortunately, but man if she didn’t hate them most of the time.

“There is certainly a lot to choose from but I’m glad to have some different options. My mom used to make us Tostones and Arroz Con Gandules. Eventually I learned to make it myself along with a lot of other things. I like to think I’m a pretty decent cook.” She laughed which was followed by a soft sigh. “What about you? What kind of food do you like?”

At the lowering of her voice Ciara felt a pit in her stomach. Could this be something bad? Maybe, but she was hoping it wasn’t. When she heard what she said she raised an eyebrow but somehow it didn’t make her scared of the woman sitting with her. “Hmm. I- uh… I know what that’s like. At least a little bit. It’s… not fun.”

“Five,” Luca stared at her with wide eyes, then shook her head. “Actually, I’ve seen families with six children in my neighbourhood, but... there was a sense of shared responsibility around the camp, guess here it would be difference,” she said. Trying to extend some sympathy. She’d had only one sibling. Now she had none. Somehow she would’ve liked having three more. 

“Both of those bring no image to mind, meaning: I would love to try that! Uhm, it’s called stoemp, I guess. It’s basically mashed potatoes and some kind of vegetable. Carrots, spinach, anything. And you steam it, mix it together, like... stump it, I guess, and add some gravy. A piece of meat or something else. And pancakes. But not the American ones. Not the French ones either, something inbetween.” 

anastasia-ahn‌:

“Oh does it now? Look at you Luca thinking so many steps ahead. I’m so proud of you.” Ana shook her head with a laugh. She didn’t need to look gorgeous with her powers, really. It was just a bonus that she enjoyed. Looking sickening and gorgeous and having people drool over her even with out her powers was a power in and of itself and she loved it. “I don’t say this often and I’ll never admit to having said it but yellow does look good on you Luca.”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose though she really wasn’t all that annoyed. “Oh man, this is gonna go so badly. Why do you take everything as a challenge?” Though there was a smile on her face. It was rare for her to actually be genuinely happy like she was. This time when Luca threw an arm over her shoulder she let it stay there, rolling her eyes. “It’s a good thing we’re not running. Very few people look good when doing it.”

“I will make a mental note of that and never make you forgot you gave me that compliment. I look like a banana, and I love it. We could get you one too, but you wouldn’t rock it as much as me. I think red is the colour for you,” she extended a grin, and shook her head. 

“No one is a lost cause,” he corrects with an uncomplicated shake of his head, the fixer-upper inside him had already pinpointed each exact detail he could correct to turn Luca into his perception of a solid ten. But naturally, he had spoken too soon, eloquence recoiling at the very mention of Denny’s presents every cell in his body urging him to gag. Instead, he washes the disdain away with another long drink of pink gin, polishing off the last of his beverage and chucking the plastic cup over his shoulder with little to any consideration for who might be behind him. “If not silk then satin, if not satin then cashmere and in not that then I really do give up on you and that ghastly polyester blend you’re trending. Look at that,” hands reach to run across the hem on one of her sleeves, lips puckered in what can only be described as frustrated and followed by a disapproving tut. “Please don’t tell me you got this at goodwill, I could cry, it breaks my heart.” 

With the impact of their fist, Lenox’s body rocks backwards and sways monetarily in his intoxicated state and also a display of his feeble weakness. His index finger swiftly elevates from the sleeve to point to her face, “No touchy,” voice as childish as the pout on his lips. “Ooooh,” amused laughter erupts from his lungs, hands clapping together in the gleeful realisation that she’d come to rip off his whole illusion thing. “My sweet, dear Lucy… Lucia… Lucha… hmm, no, that’s not it,” he covers his mouth with false shock, though the bewilderment in his eyes speaks volumes of his little act, “Luca. If I had any idea how on earth my powers worked there wouldn’t be 3 exotic dancers roaming around the dance floor looking fresh from the film set of magic mike.” He motions over to one of the male strippers towards the bar with a raised brow. His point perfectly illustrated before he offers a quizzical hum, “Besides, what’s in it for me? Do you give out stickers every time you copy cat someone successfully?” 

I could cry, it breaks my heart. Those words. Luca loved them. Her grin got sharper and more radiant. “I get all my clothes at goodwill, Lenox,” she said. She liked the idea of someone trying to change her ways, who knew, if it got her some information and knowledge of his power, she might let him. She could maybe get some chickies with a new style. Some more chickies, mind you. 

“Cute,” Hana chirps, gaze sliding over the woman approaching her and the ( stolen ) vehicle, managing to muster something close to a smile that sat slightly awkwardly on her lips. She didn’t much like strangers, especially ones interrupting her far-from-legal activities. Slender fingers close around the car key in her hand, pad of a fingertip running across the jagged side as she chews on the time-hardened gum in her mouth. Her jaw aches a little and its flavour is long gone but there’s an odd comfort from the way it sticks to her teeth. Dark lashes narrow at the all-too accurate suggestion, rolling back her shoulders in an attempt to act casual. “Weird thing to ask. Why, are you out here burying bodies?” The question is parried back with speed. It was rare that Hana didn’t want attention but this happened to be such an occasion. “I’m good. I like late night drives, thought I’d park up out here and get some fresh air.” The lie comes easy. “What makes you so unsavoury then? I’m curious. You don’t look like you’re packing a gun. And being a dealer out here can’t be worth the money.” She tilts her head, expression thoughtful. “Maybe you just like starting shit, is that it?”

“Oh yeah, just came back from it,” Luca said with a light air. “Such a terror, was a pretty overweight individual. But I managed,” she said with a dramatic gesture. For all anyone knew, she had truly buried someone. Wouldn’t be the first, she was a hitman for a reason. Correction: hit woman. It wasn’t that she didn’t have any regards for life, it was just that she was what people expected of a Mutant like her. 

cain-douglas‌:

“Can’t fucking relate,” Cain grunts. And he really can’t. His sense of home is built into his brain and body. He knows where it feels right to be and where it doesn’t and this city doesn’t feel right at all. It’s honestly kind of creepy the way Luca makes herself right at home. She seems to feel completely untethered to any particular place or home. Cain knows he wouldn’t be the same person if he grew up outside of Chicago. He’s not sure he can say the same for Luca if she grew up outside of….wherever the fuck in Dutchvill she’s supposed to be from. Still, she’s happy and it’s not Cain’s place to completely shit all over her good time just because he’s in a sour mood and looking to ruin someone’s day. “Yeah this is Florida,” he says eventually motioning generally around them before he starts to point in different directions. “That way is alligators and shit. That way is Disney World and over there-” he finishes with a flourish towards the water. “Is the Atlantic ocean, home of sharks and other ocean stuff. There’s your geography lesson for the day.”

tethysimani‌:

Abi is sitting on a bench by the edge where the pavement meets the sand, watching the sun go down. It’s been a long day of working on her feet, familiarizing herself with Miami at street-level, and she’d only stopped to rest for a moment on her way home. Inevitably, she’d ended up stuck there for an hour lost in her thoughts and the sunset, the cool evening air calming her.

So she has a prime view of the woman jogging past, her halo of brown hair bouncing along behind her, kicking up sand like a horse as she goes. Running is one of the stupidest things Abigail can think to do on the beach. For one thing, the sand slows you down significantly, which kind of defeats the purpose of running. Also, there’s the fact that the woman is now lying face down, having tripped on the ground apparently, after making the choice of exercising on a soft, moving surface with lots of holes in it.

At first Abigail doesn’t know why she’s feeling quite so judgmental, writing off the twinge of annoyance in her gut as exhaustion, but then she realizes– she’s recognized the stranger. “Oh, god damnit.” Abi looks around, seeing if anyone else is going to make sure the dumbass hasn’t knocked herself out, but there’s no one else around. With a sigh, she makes her way over to the woman’s prone body.

Abigail prods her side with the tip of one shoe. “Luca?” The name is both familiar and awkward in her mouth. “Are you dead?” she says, hopeful.

Luca recognised the voice quickly. Faces, names, she was bad with all of that. But her sound memory was much better. Much, much better. She recalled the voice out of nowhere, as if something pulled at some strings, and while she it still didn’t bring a name to mind right away, it did pull up a feeling. A feeling of hope, of a new city, faced off with a woman who had tried to take her in, make her one of the King’s, but failed. Someone she had tried to keep close, someone who had made her hate the gangs, enough so that she knew she might never speak to her again, or tap into her powers. 

She flung up her head and smiled. “I can pretend I am if you want me to,” she flashed a grin, leaned into her elbow in the sand, and winked. She lay on her side as if trying to seduce Abigail. “Hadn’t thought you would recognise me,” she opted. “Though, as sparkling a personality as mine, how could you.” 

electricks‌:

It’s not the first time she’s had someone die on her. Something tells her it isn’t going to be the last, either. Hana stares lovelessly at the lifeless lump of a man in the trunk. The car’s stolen, because of course it fucking is, and she’s far from certain she’s going to have as much luck dragging him out as she did getting him in. But hey, all in a day’s work, right? 

She plans to leave him out for the gulls to pick at and, hopefully, if she read the tidal forecast correctly which she didn’t because she forgot to check it, for the sea to wash his body away before day breaks. His name is already forgotten; she’d made sure to strip him of his wallet and phone beforehand ( again, not her first rodeo ). Much like the shit he had managed to get himself into with a local gang after seeing something he shouldn’t have, killing him had been accidental. She’d gotten a little too carried away and, sure, ok, that was on her – but electricity didn’t always play nice.

Virginia Key is dark but even away from the road with her headlights cut the motion of someone moving across the sand is unmistakable, moonlight catching at their silhouette. Hana slams the car trunk shut, concealing her little problem, and attempts to portray an air of casual idleness as she leans against scratched paintwork, the red of the car looking black in the night’s gloom. Mascara-clumped lashes narrowed, she eyes the figure enjoying a late stroll along the shoreline and tenses as their path abruptly turns away from the inky glistening expanse of water and shifts in her direction. Hana braces herself. Please don’t be a cop, please don’t be a cop, please don’t be a cop. “You’re looking a little lost, baby. Sure hope you don’t run into any unsavoury types out here tonight. You never know who might be lurking.” She waits with bated breath for them to draw close enough to see their face.

Luca scoffed, she had been running along the beach at night for whatever fucking reason. Truth was, she had been sulking. She didn’t like to sulk, sulking made her feel like she was a weakling. Though personally she didn’t view herself as weak, she just tended to a little flame within her that asked for a moment to grief. But she had grieved all those years on the run, and she had no tears left. 

“Which would be me, I’m the unsavoury type out here tonight,” she suggested, grinning, a touch to her grin and voice that coloured her dangerous. Although, all by herself, currently, she was not. Danger was something she spun around her finger tips when she was in the company of others. The people like her. She could bask in their powers forever, yet found it was only at her disposal when close. It did not render her incapable of fighting nor survival however. 

mutantdios‌:

THE SMIRK WAS MIRRORED though he doubted their intentions coincided. He wasn’t sure of his intentions for that matter, if there was something behind his good deed of the day beyond that sometimes, he can be good and helpful for no reason. Doubtful, but time would tell on that matter. 

“It’s better to learn your way around with a reliable guide, I agree,” he says, plugging the charger to an USB port in the tower. There’s other people around them, charging their phones, chatting around – but they’re minding their business, so there’s a sense of privacy to the interaction. He introduces himself to her then, his hand outstretched for her to shake. “If you wanted me to. I could be your guide, show you how to get around and get to your place. You can call me Guzmán.” He had no further plans for the day and this felt right, for some reason. Something was telling him he was in the perfect place at the perfect time, and he’d long learned to trust his gut. 

Luca pursed her lips, instead of going off the bat and accepting the offer, she decided to pretend to think it over for a bit. She stared at the sky, her hand still holding her phone, feeling the warmth of the battery starting up already burning on her hand. Those things got way too hot in this weather. Then she looked back at the man who called himself Guzman. She was ninety percent gay, women were creatures that god put most thought in, and her eyes more often wandered towards the female form than it had any interest in the bulky plank like figure of a man. But she did enjoy indulging in the act of flirting with men, and she liked to be invited for things, even if a gut feeling told her something was off. She listened, but she was way to prone to give into chaos and danger than to run away from it. 

Shae hummed softly as they hopped up onto one of the counters, kicking their feet lightly and grinning over at Luca before nudging the box next to them with an elbow. “I hope this is the box with the magnets. I want to put up new photos on the fridge this time,” they said with bright eyes. “Maybe ones from the beach!”

Miami was going to be amazing. Warm weather and beautiful scenery and new places to explore. But… still they felt a small pang as they thought of Chicago. It was strange. They didn’t think themselves very sentimental, and yet here they sat, being their own party pooper.

“Do you think you’re gonna miss Chicago?” Shae asked casually, trying to hide their own personal turmoil occurring.

“Shae, you just jinxed it, everyone knows that if you say you want something to be there, it’s bound to not be there at all! I bet we won’t find the magnets now until we’ve cleared all the boxes!” she held out her arms to all the boxes that were waiting for them. Wasn’t a lot to be honest. 

“I would love to hang the photos though, perhaps if we don’t find the magnets, we just tape them to the fridge,” she suggested with a grin, then took the coffee machine from the box, planted it on the counter, and opened all the cupboards that weren’t blocked by Shae. “Part of me thinks a new place is a good time to create a system, but that goes into my character far too much.” 

Penelope reached out for the other woman’s hand. “Penelope,” she introduced herself, shaking Luca’s hand with a small smile on her lips. The mutant didn’t trust strangers — especially now that any of them could be the new mutants; the reason why remained a mystery and Penelope wasn’t a fan — but that didn’t mean she didn’t like them. “It’s nice to meet you, Luca.” She wasn’t shy and she adored meeting new people, but that didn’t mean all of them had to become friends. At least not close ones.

“Are you from around here?” The blonde asked; Penelope was half curious and half wary. The woman before her gave off a vibe that was interesting — confident and straightforward. Penelope had to wonder just how much of it she could take; being asked personal questions by people she didn’t know wasn’t her favorite thing.

She nodded her head. “I usually take my coffee black. Iced when the weather’s warm. But I suppose it’s a good day as any to try something new. Which way is the coffee shop?” Penelope questioned, knowing that whatever the coffee shop was, she’d been there. Or at least, she assumed as much.

“Oh no!” Luca said dramatically. She wouldn’t mention Chicago, not suddenly, because Luca too was a little wary of people. But when she had landed herself in Chicago, she had been extremely forward about her Mutant abilities, because how else was she going to get into contact with the right people. And even here in Miami, she did not fear the consequences of such actions, because she could be strong if she had to, even on her own. She had not survived all those years on the run just by fleeing the whole time. “I’m from very far away, the Netherlands actually,” she explained. “Came here a while back. But I’m glad my accent doesn’t give me away.” 

“Me too, but I do tend to go out of my way to try new things. I once convinced myself that I should try coffee with sugar again, because you know, might like it? I did not in fact, like it. It was horrible. Week later I tried coffee with milk, also not very good. Even though I would kill for a cappuccino!” 

Judging by the way Luca is talking, Derek doesn’t think she actually needs the caffeine. Her body seems to generate enough of the stuff naturally to power a medium-sized women’s soccer team, and with enough espresso added to the mix on top of that, well… The results can be frightening. But he knows she will defend her love of big-chain coffee to the grave, so he lets the topic drop before she goes off on a tangent about strawberry frappucinos or whatever and they’re stuck here all day.

“You say rosy, I say homicidal.” Derek raises an eyebrow. He wasn’t planning on getting wet today; it’s never a good idea to functionally disable his powers in public, and especially not in unfamiliar territory. But he’s pretty sure Luca just low-key threatened to murder him and she’s a literal hitman, so. “Okay, okay, fine,” he says, ditching his shirt quickly in their pile of stuff before she can haul him away. The feeling of being over-exposed is immediate but he quashes it down. Still, the discomfort makes him jumpy, and suddenly he doesn’t want her touch on his arm anymore, so he shakes her off and books it for the water. “Race you!” He shouts like a fucking tween, because being around Luca apparently is a recipe for regression. When he’s thinks she’s started following him, he turns around and splashes ocean water in her direction to slow her down.

“Same thing,” Luca responded with a scoff. “I’m both, and I am amazing,” she concluded. Her grin grew as Derek finally gave in to her please. It hadn’t been that difficult, but Luca liked to believe she could be very convincing. Probably because she was also considered to be very dangerous, and people were right to be afraid of her. She had little patience left, and would do whatever she could to keep herself safe. Years on the run had taught her that. 

She doesn’t react much to his decisions, when he broke free of her arm, she just pretended not to notice, she noted his discomfort, but didn’t comment. She understood it. If she had been marked by her ability, she would feel the same. But she was not, and she never would be, because her ability only showed when in the company of other mutants. She feared isolation for just that reason. Whenever she was around Derek, she could feel something tingle within her, the more mutants around, the stronger that feeling. But only with those she knew, as if her body recognised the powers of her friends before she had a chance to recognise the person. 

Ciara smiled and laughed lightly. “I’m glad it’s not just my family. It always seemed weird coming back from summer vacation and everyone would talk about these trips they went on and I was lucky if I went to the local pool.” She picked up some sand in her hand and just let it slowly fall back to the ground.

She tilted her head towards Luca, a curious look on her face. “You think so? I’m sure there are spots that aren’t great. But they could also hold memories for other people and that’s what makes them perfect.” She shrugged. “Hmm, a lot of the food here reminds me of what my mother used to make. So that’s nice. Maybe I won’t have to cook for myself all the time.”

“Hmm it’s only 20 minutes from Chicago. Not really well known or that big of a place. But it’s what I called home.” Her smile grew a bit at what she assumed was a joke. “The Netherlands? Wow, you are very far from home. What’s brought you all the way out to Miami?”

“You grew up on the bottom as well?” she asked. It was what she called near poverty. Poverty in the US was far different from poverty in the Netherlands, the social differences were far greater here. But Luca too had spend many summers in public pools or a little pool her parents set up in the backyard for all the kids in the camp. 

“Oh yes, food here is very good. Then again, I’m still not used to everything, what kind of food did your mom make?” she asked. She enjoyed casual conversation like this. It wasn’t meaningless to her, just.. filling up the space, creating connections. She enjoyed that about being human - or mutant or whatever - it showed that people weren’t so different. Most of them were just a little too selfish, and scared about new people and changes. 

Luca’s grin grew when it appeared that Ciara thought she had been joking. It was funny to see people’s reactions though, she didn’t feel Dutch, she had been away from home for too long, was too angry with her government, that she had forcefully cut ties with her nationality at least. She was a Mutant now. But it was still where she was from, where her family was from. Where Maddie had vanished. 

lenoxsyed‌:

“Don’t touch what you can’t afford,” Lenox seizes his arm back, more defensive than usual if only because he’s not entirely convinced he wanted to bite the bait of a Jem Family member. Who knew what ‘help’ entailed? Best case scenario she’d be asking for some much-needed fashion advice that Lenox was doing well to bite his tongue and not comment on, what with what resembled to be a poor quality fabric choice against an outdated jacket. Poor thing, he studies, head tilted as the eyes trail back to hers and a lightly startled jump springs from his feet, “Oh! I do apologise, I was… perplexed.” 

“Define ‘help’, would you darling? I’m in low supplies tonight if that’s what you’re insinuating, the Miami scene has almost well and truly succeeded in wiping me clean. I can’t wait to blow it all on a Versace Barocco print dressing gown… you wanna see it?” he’d reached quickly for his phone before she gets an opportunity to reply, flicking through his internet shopping slides to find the piece on his wish list. He sips on his G&T, not paying sufficient attention to Luca or what she actually might have needed with him for, partially due to his own tipsiness and the rest was utter arrogance. Holding the image on his phone out to her, he nods, “It’s silk and it’s made in Italy. Nice, right?… Perhaps silk would be something for yourself to consider,” his gaze washes over her garment suggestively, lips twisting into a clever grin. 

Luca bit her lip in jest, but let the comment slide, she really wanted to keep Lenox on her good side for now, especially if the chaos she wished to entail must come to fruition. Plus, she had dealt with worse, people were assholes, at least Lenox was a cute one. And his ‘help’ was not appreciated, but she did enjoy watching how he enjoyed talking. It was like having the first row to one of those real-life shows she spend far too much time on. She shook her head as Lenox grabbed his phone and began showing her some images. She had no clue about clothing much, most of it was as foreign to her as the States. Besides, her clothes all came from the thrift shop, she rather feel gorgeous than have someone else tell her what she needed to be beautiful. 

Because that had become the monstreousity of her character: she didn’t care what others thought about her, she only aimed to be worse than what they took her for. 

So dark seemed almost like a compliment. Almost. Tierney finds no reason to be offended by it, in fact, it almost makes him smile. Her attempts at mimicking him don’t go unnoticed. He’s amused by the whole display. He won’t say she isn’t a dangerous person, she’s a hitman all the same, but it’s humorous. Tierney is the tall and dark type…Luca had always appeared to him as…a chaotic whirlwind. The person you called in for a flashy show rather than an impersonal job. No trace, no message, just death.

“It’s not a name if it’s true, hmm?” As far as Tierney is concern she is a girl. Young. Dangerous. Annoying. “If you’re not being friendly then what are you being? Because last time I checked we were not on the same side. Unless you’ve decided to change sides.” Part of Tierney hopes she hasn’t. He doesn’t want the competition so close to home. Especially not so close they might mire his own career. “Thanks. But I have a partner. Not looking for another.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I don’t feel like I can convince you with telling you my age either. It’s come to my attention that you look down on people,” she said with a grin. She didn’t like Tierney, not in a friendly sense. She teased and annoyed everyone, and that didn’t mean she had to like them. To her, these gangs, it was child’s play. They could all work together and make progress in the name of mutants, if only they all had the same dreams for the future. Which was not the case. Her chaos fitted best with the Jems, and that meant she aligned with them. But it could’ve been different, and she was aware of that. She liked making friends with people from other gangs. For one it gave her more power - which was why some intelligently avoided her - but it also showed how little she had regards for this little ‘war’. The real war was out there, against the humans who sought to make them disappear. 

cosmlc‌:

If Penelope hadn’t been used to Miami weather, she knew she would have been melting inside of her apartment, wishing for a colder day. Though her skin was fair, there was nothing better for her than the sun and whenever the day looked promising, Penelope would be found outside. Doing her own thing, doing whatever she wanted. 

Penelope looked at Tatiana’s name on her phone before a smile appeared on her lips. Just as she was ready to text the other, she heard an unfamiliar voice. She turned around, her eyebrows furrowing slightly at the sight of a cute stranger. 

“Hi,” she spoke with a small smile, albeit a bit hesitantly. Penelope looked the stranger over, trying to dig through her memory, thinking she must have known them. “Erm, I guess, yeah.” She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. 

“Do I get a name before I grab a coffee with a stranger?”

Luca’s smile grew larger when her suggestion was met not with distaste and rejection, but with an actual acceptance. Was Miami the city of her dreams then? Where she could ask hot ladies out for coffee without having to deal with... people. She adjusted her sunglasses onto the neck of her shirt and took notice of the chuckle the other produced. As if trying to safe it for later. “If that is what you want, absolutely,” she spoke with warmth, then she held out her hand. “I’m Luca Mendoza, and what’s your name?” 

She still carried the smile, although it was closer to a grin now. The lady before her had a beautiful face, a little round, curvy figure, a nose that should be painted. Luca could imagine her as a muse for any great Dutch painter. She was also probably a few years younger than her.