Gravel Bed

The presence of a smile helped Pietro ease up and even offer one in return. It may have been weak, but at least it was still something. He thought back to the last time he had smiled at a woman he did not know, and held back a shudder. The smile was sinister in sense, as it was lustfully directed at a prostitute on the darker side of Berlin. It was a few months ago, but even still, he felt a horrible guilt. Every woman was someone’s daughter, many were someone’s sister, and they all had someone who cared for them. Yet he still used them.

Pietro looked away from the girl out of shame–even thinking about this induced the guilt. He took a long sip of coffee, not caring that it burned his tongue a little, as the girl spoke. He was a bit confused as to why she was speaking about having a series of bad days with such a cheerful tone, but perhaps that was her way of hoping? Hiding it all behind a mask? The speedster wished that he could do that–all he could do was run and pray that the nightmares weren’t as bad that night. With the last thought of guilt fading away, he allowed himself to look up at the girl once more, even though his smile was long gone. 

“I’m looking for my sister,” Pietro admitted, feeling comfortable with telling the young girl the true reason that he was in New York. “It’s easier at night, less people. Just means no sleep…but that’s okay.” His fingers tapped the table absentmindedly, something he tended to do when talking to others. “I’m sorry you’ve been having a series of rough evenings, Miss Cooper.

Before taking another drink, he remembered she had asked for her name. “I’m Pietro, by the way.”

Looking for his sister? Well, that was a new one, and probably a noble one. It kinda made her wish she had a sibling to watch out for her like that, and it kinda made her glad she didn’t have one. A sibling who actually cared about her whereabouts would have driven them crazy, she was always coming home late and sneaking out. Eventually, her mom had given up, and just told her to call her for rides if she couldn’t find one. Her mom was always like that, more a friend than a parent, and giving up quickly during fights. It made it offensive as hell when SHIELD told her she was going off to boot camp and her mom just seemed unsurprised and kind of relieved. Had she really been that bad? Life was meant to be lived, after all.

“You’re looking for your sister?” Maya repeated, obviously surprised. “Can I like help? I’m great with computers, I can probably help…” She trailed off, letting her offer hang in the air. It’d probably only take a minute with facial recognition software, but she didn’t need to go into details with this Pietro. He would either say yes or no and it was as simple as that. She didn’t need to make herself sound like some weird hacker, or more incriminating yet in this world, a mutant, which she was.

The more they spoke, the less affronted he seemed. She was pretty damn proud of that. Who said charm couldn’t getcha anywhere these days? And she was happy because it took her mind off of things as well. Talking to strangers like this made her forget what she was missing out on back home, and sure, it was selfish, but she wasn’t ashamed of that. Sometimes selfishness was good, and this was one of those times.

She loved taking walks in the evening or at night, even if it was just a round around the block. It might not be the safest thing to do in her neighbourhood, but Reilley could very well defend herself and up to now, nothing had happened. Truth be told, she’d mostly been alone on the streets during her nightly strolls and it was both a slightly eerie and oddly calming pastime. The air was cooler than during the day and the noise of cars and people faded to a faint buzz in the distance.

Sometimes she brought a book and sat on a bench in a nearby small park, reading in the dimming light for a while if she had the time. Sometimes she went for a run, headphones in her ears while completely tuning out everything around her. Sometimes, when it was already as late as today, she simply walked in the darkness, listening to the faint sounds of the city, to clear her head. It was easy to get lost in, although it did evoke a feeling of loneliness in her. Usually, she repressed those kind of emotions. She didn’t have time to be sad or nostalgic (and in any case, it was a bummer and she simply refused to let herself be unhappy, because she got along well enough on her own, she made it, she could do this), but for those few minutes every day she let them in. Let the memories flow, let the hurt and the anger and the sorrow twist themselves into a tight ball into her stomach. It was easier to allow herself these few minutes of wallowing in self-pity, rather than have it overcome her when she honestly didn’t need it (not that she could stop it when it did, anyway). One could honestly say she walked it off, because the longer she went, the more of it she could let go, the more the knot in her stomach slowly dissolved. For the day, at least. It made her sleep easier every night, and that was what counted.

Usually, she didn’t ask for company on those recreational strolls, too caught up in her own thoughts to keep a conversation with someone up. Not that she had anything against it per se — she simply wasn’t used to it. (Nobody was around at this time of the night, anyway, or so she thought.)

Needless to say, when someone called out her name in the quiet of the night, her first reaction was alarm as she startled and looked around. When she recognized the girl a few paces behind her as someone she’d met before, Reilley relaxed again and stopped, waiting until the other had caught up to her.

“Hey Maya,” she replied, a genuine smile on her lips despite her obvious surprise. ”Not up to much, to be honest, just taking a walk. Getting some fresh air before bed and all that. And you?” As far as she knew, the girl was staying at Xavier’s school, which was quite a distance away from here, so Reilley couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing out here this late. She seemed a little too young to run around alone at this hour, though Reilley gave her the benefit of the doubt and assumed she could probably defend herself if she was willing to risk it. Still, a touch of worry mixed into her voice when she added a little more quietly: “You ok?”

Someone asking her if she was okay was… Weird. She hadn’t heard that question since before she moved, and normally it was following a hit of something. Who knows if that was because she seemed seriously wrecked or because they actually cared, and in all honesty, Maya hardly cared herself. She knew her friends would sit and listen to her freak out about tests or her parents or whatever. Her mutation, well, they didn’t know about that, and they shouldn’t have known about that. Someone finding out about it got her into this hellish mess, and threatened with a goddamn cell, the one thing she’d gone extreme lengths to avoid. This had to be karma, right?

And here she was, looking for a dealer, or someone, anyone, really, and she found someone. Reilley, to be precise, and she was offering her concern. In a city full of practical strangers, it felt weird, and good at the exact same time. Maybe this was what she was looking for instead of some sketchy substance.

But that posed the question: was she okay? The easy answer was hell no, but Maya had never been one to take the easy road. It was easier to lie, but lying seemed pointless. She knew she needed friends, and this was the best branch she’d had for one in a long time. Call it loneliness, call it naive, but rather than lie and bug off, Maya replied, “Not really. New York’s not the best place, y’know? I kinda miss home, and I feel really goddamn sick.” The sickness she probably didn’t deserve pity for, since that was her own doing, but she wasn’t gonna admit that to anyone. Hell, she was basically in denial about it herself. “Xaiver’s is fine, don’t get me wrong, but I kinda hate it there.”

Eros could quite literally feel moods of the civilians walking this concrete jungle rise as he stimulated their pleasure sensors. He could sense one particular souls joy as he turned his head slightly to the young girl offering an Ivory smile specifically for the girl. His initial thoughts were she was a young attractive soul, but too young for him, at least by this worlds standards.

“Why hello to you too, my dear, I must say the day is splendid, nearly as splendid as you!” Even though the Eternal had declared her as too young he couldn’t help but flirt a little, it was just embedded in his personality. Needless to say he had been rather excited to have someone spark up a conversation with him, it would serve the perfect distraction from his looming thoughts of despair for his brother.

He could smell the booze off of her as the wind shifted in his direction. The smell had brought him back to many a night and many a planet of his past; mainly fond memories at that. After he took in the scent and the memories for a moment with shut eyes he starred back into hers with his signature devilish smirk “Now what did I do to warrant such a friendly greeting on such a busy day? I’ll have to do it more often whatever it may be.” His tone was playful and kind with the slightest sense of comfort behind it.

Before he’d spoken to her, Maya could tell she quite liked him. He was nice to be around, and not many people were nice to be around until you were a few shots in. Pleasant, sure, amusing, definitely, but never pleasant, almost calming like this guy was. Whatever he was doing, she wanted tips. She’d definitely have some kind of awesome future with people if she were like him. Public speakers probably made a lot of money, she’d do that if she were like him, with this crazy charisma.

“I am pretty splendid,” Maya said with a laugh. When was the last time she laughed with a hangover? Weird. But good weird, it was a nice change from the usual morning bitterness until she got pancakes or eggs benedict with extra hash browns. “What’s got you in such a good mood, kind sir?” She really did want to know. The only logical explanation for this kind of happiness was drugs, but that didn’t make all the passer-bys happy. That usually just pissed off people around you who were off to work, but everyone around him was smiling. Yeah, he definitely needed to be a public speaker, and she could totally be his manager. ‘Stranger Destined to Show You True Joy’... she’d need to work on the headline.

I’ll have to look into it. Kinda surprised I haven’t heard of them, but then again… I’ve been pretty busy.

Ass-kicking training. Have you ever seen Mulan? It’s a lot like that, but with less singing.

And anytime, you know how to reach me!

Let me know if you find out anything sinister or whatever. Gotta avoid those extra freaks. The plague is enough stress.

No singing? Disappointing. But hey, I bet you’re like super bad ass. Mulan’s my favorite princess.

Tony reached out a hand instinctively, attempting to stall the fall of whoever it was he’d hit and half heartedly hoping it wasn’t someone he’d like to knock right back over–not, perhaps, the most pressing thought process given his current circumstances, but it was amazing what you could think up when you were seeing red in a way you’d only heard “Code Green” yelled before. And that was truly the amazing part of this all: the rage. Tony had grown up with cameras in his face, had learned to pose before he’d learned to walk, had been taught to fake a smile before he’d fully mastered the alphabet (and given his brain, that had been pretty damn young), but every bit of “class” his mother had taught him, every “man up, chin up, keep walking” his dad had barked across their family halls was suddenly falling on deaf ears, and Tony was better than this, used to this, stronger than this, but his hands were shaking with the need to deck the nearest protestor in their bigoted face–particularly the one now tugging on his sleeve, screaming Bible verses and obscenities simultaneously in his ear. “Don’t apologize when you’re the one being hit,” he said immediately, forcing his attention back to the stranger he’d hit: the problem in front of him rather than the one behind him. “Not your fault. That was me, you’re fine.” 

The last time Tony could remember being this angry in a crowd was the day Happy had ended up in the hospital; that day had ended with him threatening a terrorist on the evening news–not a mistake to make again. He quickly forced a smile, one that wasn’t all that hard to hold up the second he realized that the stranger–who had all the right in the world to curse or sue him or whatever it was people did these days in a person-to-person collision–wasn’t yelling but leading him out of the crowd. Fantastic. “Nifty,” he said, following her gaze down the alley. He checked behind both shoulders for approaching paparazzi then followed her down the rabbit hole–of sorts. “Did you want something?” he asked, absentmindedly slapping his pockets in search for his wallet–back right pocket, perfect. “Don’t keep more than a hundred on me, sorry.” 

This alley, which, on second thought, Tony should have noticed before–that was his job, wasn’t it, knowing every corner, every avenue, every inch of the place he’d promised safety, but outside the walls of the tower, on the promise of “public property” it was out of his hands–was in the opposite direction of where he was heading, where Pepper was waiting, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and no one was going to exactly be surprised when he showed up late. 

Once she was steady on her feet, she took in the scenery. And by scenery, she meant hell. They were getting more and more rowdy, and it was getting to her more and more. 

Unlike a lot of people Maya had met over the years, she didn’t feel the need to apologize more than once. If they took it, cool. If not, it wasn’t her problem, usually. But this guy probably deserved it. He owned Stark Industries by day and donned the Iron Man costume? Suit? Whatever, by night. He was savior of America, well, that was probably the Captain. But he was an Avenger, and they did change the world as they knew it once upon a time. And kept it from those weird aliens that were pretty hellbent on destroying it, or so the news said. Considering that there was reporters around them supporting the disgusting obscenities being thrown around, it was hard to believe everything the media said. Go Fox News! “Pretty hard to not walk into people when you’re in this hell,” Maya said with a shrug. “I could hardly keep from punching some of these guys, and violence isn’t really my go to. But if you want…” She looked over at a particularly enthusiastic man with a sign claiming that the Captain was betraying America. “I’ll do it for you free of cost. That headline probably wouldn’t be great for you.”

Safely away from the crowd, her headache had faded a tiny bit, and the man standing before her was taking her mind off of how damn angry she’d been today. At least she was good at covering it up, like a really good concealer. It reminded her of something Angelica, some girl she talked to at parties said, ‘When the day starts off shitty, vow to destroy it.’ It didn’t really make sense to a sober mind, but it was something Maya carried around with her anyway. She looked briefly to see if anyone was following, but they looked clear. She was a little disappointing, punching one of these guys, or rather trying to, would probably solve some of this pent up aggression. Maybe she’d have to ask Skye to show her how.

“Did you want something? Don’t keep more than a hundred on me, sorry.”

I never m e a n t for any of this to happen.