New York was getting chilly this time of year, and Sarah liked that. It meant her favorite form of attire, the hoody, was not only fashionable but necessary. Today it was her black, white, and purple Jimi Hendrix adorning her as she walks the streets with a bag of groceries dangling from her right hand. It was ten after noon, and Sarah was on her way back from a shopping trip to a natural foods store. Recently in her post as a counselor, Sarah had been assigned a young mutant girl who not only struggled with the usual perils of bigotry and homelessness, but the ongoing health concern that she was also allergic to gluten. Those food items were in short supply, and so she had taken it upon herself to get the girl some gluten-free food.
Sarah had her hood up to hide the pair of bone horns coming out of her forehead. The horns had a tendency to set new arrivals at eases; why it did she could only speculate. All she knew was the horns personally just felt right to have. Like some people find a hairstyle or hat just completes them, these horns did the same for her. Of course you couldn't just walk around in this world with horns and expect things to be fine, hence her fondness for hoodies.
She came around the corner and saw an all-too-common sight: a woman in old dirty clothing sitting on the street with a hand out holding a styrofoam cup.
"Help, please?" She asked as Sarah approached alongside others who keep their eyes forward or down at their phones. Sarah stopped and took out the buck-fifty-two in various coins she had in her pockets while the rest of the crowd moved around her. "Here, it's not much, but-"
The woman interrupted her with a pat on the hand and a smile "You learn to appreciate everything dear."
Sarah could not help but smile at that, and after dropping the change in, she reached into the pocket of her jeans and also dropped in her 'counselor card', which was just a small card with her name (Sarah) and the number for the cellphone in her other pocket. "You ever need more help than that, find a phone and give me a call. Any time."
The woman gave a quiet "Thank you." and Sarah continued along her way. For the couple seconds before the door to the coffee shop the woman was seated next to opened, and she heard "Help, please?" answered by a laugh and "See what I mean? They're everywhere!"
"Here's something more valuable, advice: Clean up, and get a job."
said a female voice. Sarah turned around and saw a couple of twenty-somethings walking away from the woman with smug plastered on their faces. The woman, to her credit, took it well with no sign those words had hurt at all. But Sarah knew they did, and it took a Herculean amount of effort to not at least give the offending couple "The kebob treatment" as they passed her. These people were the kind who gave her generation a bad name. The apathy, the callousness. Marrow would not have hesitated to defend/punish.
But she hadn't really been Marrow in a while. Going legit to (hopefully) make a real difference had made that necessary.
But Sarah still followed the couple from a discrete distance. And she followed them for a block past where should have turned toward The Whitmore. It was no surprise for her when they came to shiny new Mazerati and the guy clicked it open. Sarah kept walking as they got in, and under the cover of the crowd exacted just a little revenge. Or whatever it is you would call what she did.
The young woman grew a small spike of bone in either palm of her hand, and in a quick motion launched them at the back tires of the car just as it was about to drive off. They popped very loudly, and the rims scraped on the asphalt as the panicked driver hit the gas. Sarah stood with the crowd, and watched as the couple got out of the car. The look of panic and worry on the guy was more satisfying than the one of surprise on the girl. He probably had to explain to his rich parents how this could have happened.
Sarah grabbed her bag of groceries from the sidewalk and turned back the other way. Sure, this incident wasn't going to change their opinions even if they did have the idea it was related to their callous treatment beforehand. Sarah knew that. It did not make her feel less fulfilled to have done it.
In due time, Sarah made the proper turn to head straight for the Whitmore with a satisfied smile upon her lips.
