June 15, 2014: Anabel O'Neal goes searching for her daughter in the streets of M-Town.

Mutant Town - NYC

District X or the more popularly coined Mutant Town is a crowded, poor neighborhood with a high crime rate. It hosts the largest mutant population in all of New York City and perhaps even the United States. District X is situated in Alphabet City, Manhattan or what is called the Middle East Side and from all outward appearances is little more than a ghetto but there is more to it than that especially with the burgeoning mutant numbers because with those numbers comes community and subculture, a subculture unique to those who host an X-Gene and their enthusiasts.
Despite being a "ghetto" the burrough of District X is rife with mutant-owned or oriented businesses of all variety. All manner of fashion designers, inventors, artists, musicians along with the drug dealers, mutant gangs, criminals and prostitutes call M-Town home. If a person wants that authentic "mutant" feel they come to their ethnic enclave; M-Town, despite the obvious dangers.



  • Anabeth O'Neal — Nancy O'Neal's Mom. (NOTE: Deadzone did emitting, did not appear.)
  • unnamed green mutant girl

Mood Music:

Anabeth O'Neal is having one of her nicer moments. One where she actually remembers she was a mother and that her daughter Nancy isn't just a burden or a reminder of how bad her life is. The 40-something woman looks more like she's in her mid-50's, years of hard living with booze and cigarettes. She wanders about the streets of M-Town, stopping total strangers and showing them a picture of a goth girl.

"Have you seen her? Her name is Nancy. She plays a cello." Some people just ignore her; she's still in her bathrobe for goodness sake. But some stop to look at the picture and shake their heads.


Mutant Town is the place to go for krezblyoch, which are a dubious eastern european breakfast confection whose origin is hidden in the depths of time. Or, maybe they were just invented by the mutant chef with three eyes and the power to generate steam. Whatever they are, Dr. Angelo diLucci is fiending for them, and since he worked (volunteer) last night at the Chelsea Clinic, and he's not due at the Avenue C Clinic (his actual job) until tomorrow, he's decided to just enjoy the neighborhood.

And, that's a bathrobe, not a stylish housecoat worn ironically. He waves to the woman walking along the sidewalk, moving to join her.
"Hey, have you had breakfast yet?" It's actually brunch by now. The krezblyoch place is a hole-in-the-wall storefront with other similar places nearby, so there are a few scattered sidewalk tables for customers.


Anabeth looks at the man that is approaching her and shakes her head.
"Breakfast makes me nauseous," she tells him and then shows him the photo that she's been showing to everyone else.
"Have you seen this girl? She's gone. Is she here? She's a mutant, so she should be here."


Angelo looks at the picture. As he does so, he activates the Conduit, and becomes a channel for life-energy, and powers on his magical tattoos, which at this simple level, is remarkably unremarkable. He lets a hand brush the woman's fingertips, and sends over just enough energy that she should feel as though she's had a cup of coffee. Because she looks like she needs one.

"She looks familiar, but I can't say for sure," Angelo replies. "It's possible that she came by my clinic - I'm at the Avenue C, the low-cost clinic for people who live in this neighborhood. So I might've seen her there, but I can't be sure. Is that the only picture you have of her?"
He almost flinches when he looks up to look her in the eye, because with the Eye of Ra active, so very much WRONG is pulsating in waves from her body. And he can see it.


So so much wrong. Where to start? The alcohol? The cigarettes? The medication for being a paranoid schizophrenic? No… those are all symptoms. There is something deeper. There is a chemical that is not normally found in the human body. A drug? A mutation? It's unusual. Very.

Anabeth gets out another couple of photos of the girl from her bathrobe pocket.

"This is her when she was ten. She used to love Disney. Now she likes black things and skulls. This is her playing her cello when she was in highschool. She didn't know I was there. The music hurts my head, so I don't like going, but I was so proud of her. So proud." She shudders and her face crinkles up as she tries not to cry.

"Someone has to have seen her. Please?"


And, emotional breakdown now. Angelo can't just leave her like this. It might get his License To Be From NYC revoked, but he can't ignore this crazy street lady, not after seeing that she's got brain things wrong that … No. He can't do this in one day. He might not be able to manage it at all. He has to look with the Eye turned on to tell what she really needs, but that'll … OK, fine.

"Hey, I'm sure someone else here knows her. My brunch is about ready, I can get you some coffee, you can tell me more about her so I know who to talk to, OK?" He tries to lead her to the storefront, where the guy is selling the sweet, cinnamon-spicy puffed pastries with the undefinable nut sauce.


Anabeth nods, taking out a balled up tissue and dabbing at her eyes. She walks along with the nice stranger and keeps flashing the picture to people she passes by. She determined, that's for sure.

A young woman looks at the picture and breaks out into a smile.

"Sure do! She saved my life! I never got a chance to thank her."


And that's a lead.

"Saved your life?" Angelo gets his brunch from the window along with a little cardboard carrier with two cups of coffee. He smiles a 250watt smile at the young woman, and says, "Could you tell us more? My friend here says she's gone missing."

He sidles to an empty table, and places the carrier and the pastry on there, while trying to urge the bathrobe woman to sit, because her feet visibly hurt. At least, visibly to him.


The young woman in question is quite clearly a mutant. Green skin doesn't tend to come naturally. She beams a smile as well.

"Yeah, one of those vans. The ones that have been coming around and taking us away. They grabbed me and threw me in and she and some guy with red sunglasses saved us. She was awesome! She actually tried jumping into the van when it was speeding away!"

Anabeth sits down and listens with horror. No mother wants to hear about their child doing heroics like jumping onto a speeding van.

"Was she alright? Did she survive?"

"Oh yeah! She totally did. I never got to thank her. I only got this picture of her as she ran off with her friend." She gets out her cell phone, showing the same goth girl holding the hand of a very buff man in a pink shirt that says "I'm f'ing fabulous!" hauling him away.


And that's another WTF moment for Angelo.

"She knows Paul?" he blurts. Because the guy who was his one-night-stand lo these many years ago when random-roofie induced stupidity led Ange to get (magically) inked, while he was not nearly as buff then, nor quite so pink and fruity, he definitely is the same guy who still shows up at Angelo's gym. And they even train together sometimes. But then Angelo knows nothing of Paul's personal career as a crypto-fascist agent. Not at all the usual "gym talk" topic, after all.

"I know this guy, he might know something," Angelo says, sliding one of the coffees, heavy on cream and sugar, in front of Ann. There's a moment when the sun comes out especially brightly, and he takes advantage of the moment to open the Conduit, so he can look at the old woman, and the young green woman as well. Any excess Light pouring out will just seem like too much sunlight for a second, maybe. And if not, well, this IS M-town.


Anabeth looks at the picture and wrinkles her nose in distaste.

"I don't like him. She works with him but she's not shown up at work either. He feels … wrong." She starts to mutter under her breath that no one is that fruity. The mutant girl looks a little uncomfortable, attributing Anabeth's behaviour to homophobia.

"Well… if you find her, tell her I said thanks, 'k? Cause I wouldn't be here iwthout her and that glasses guy." She gets up and waves, heading off, avoiding the prejudiced woman in the bathrobe.

The Eye of Ra tells Angelo that the green girl is just a happy and healthy mutant. Sure, she could have a better diet, but she's a teenager. They mostly live on simple carbs and protein anyway. The woman in the robe though? What a mess. Her liver and lungs are showing the signs of wear and tear. Poor diet. But it's that other thing that really raises questions. It seems like she's a mutant, but not quite, almost a proto-mutant. Surely, any children she had would definitely be mutants of some kind. Her brain synapses spark in odd ways, showing signs of her insanity. Lots of that.


"He wasn't that fruity when I first met him. I think he does it to stand out, same reason he lifts weights, so he'll attract the kind of boy he wants. Or, y'know, so he doesn't have to have a real personality."
Unkind snark! And Angelo doesn't say anything at all about why he himself is built like a brick wall; considering he's wearing a light windbreaker it's possible that someone could mistake him for being fat, at first glance. Or not. But it's clear from the comment why Ange didn't follow through with any kind of long-term relationship.

"Hey. I'll do some looking around too, and I'll check with Paul. He might know where she's been. But you've been wandering around looking for a while now, you should probably drink your coffee and head back home. I'll walk with you if you want," Angelo offers, and puts a hand out in an 'available for handshake or clasp' gesture.


Anabeth winces and brings a hand to her head. Synapses are sparking like mad. She pulls out a flask from one of the pockets of her bathrobe and takes a long pull. It takes a while for the effects of the alcohol to get to her brain, but the sparking slows down. She pours the rest of what's in her flask into her coffee. She shakes her head when offered the hand, standing up and taking the coffee with her.

"Home is good. Maybe Nancy's come home. She's been gone so long." She turns and starts to walk away, still talking as if in the conversation, shuffling her sore and tired feet.


"My name's Dr. diLucci, and you can reach me at the Avenue C Clinic, don't forget, OK? Stop by later in the week and I'll tell you what I found out." Angelo moves forward and offers her a business card. If she takes it, he can give her a real heal-burst, and it would reduce the damage to her lungs and liver, but not enough, not nearly enough. But if she doesn't he can still slip the card into the pocket that her pictures are in.

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