The Alchemist: the misadventures of Charlotte Jezebelle Waylette

The Beggar and The Toad

What goes on in the head of a child running for her life?
A young lady ran under the hazy diamond skies of New York City, her legs burning like wildfire as she struggled to catch her breath. Behind her were two men and a woman, seemingly in their late teens. Charlotte looked back every so often, growing more panicked when they seemed to be catching up.
Her knuckles were white, clutching a vintage luggage bag containing a blanket, a couple of changes of clothes, and some trinkets of sentimental value--the only things she had brought when running away from her old home, an antique shop in Albany. She prayed under her breath, but not in a Christian, Muslim, or Buddhist fashion. She didn't care about debating whether to pray to Jesus, or Allah, or for her own reincarnation in case she died. All she needed was help, hoping that whatever was out there would listen to the pleadings of a twelve year old girl.
"Come on, pip squeak, show us what's in that bag of yours!" The woman behind her said in a mocking tone. Charlotte sprinted for all it was worth, choking back tears. One of those kids had a knife. She had seen it herself , and judging by the way they were after that damn bag full of stuff they could easily pawn for cash, she wasn't going to assume that they weren't going to use it on her. To think, only a few hours ago, she was simply part of New York's increasing homeless community. Now, she was probably going to get mugged and left for dead, confirming her parents' distraught assumptions when they had lost her on holiday on a trip to the untied states four years ago. Sure, she was later kidnapped and forced into child begging later on, but at least then she had found a way to escape. Her hope was dimming with every step she took; looks like she really wouldn't find her way out this time. She wondered if Miss Pelluchette, her former caretaker, felt what her parents felt back in London. She should have never ran away...
Losing herself in thought proved to be a huge mistake then, as she finally tripped over uneven concrete, tearing her jeans where her knees were.
She turned back, wondering if she could just get up, but it was too late. Charlotte sat there, petrified, trying not to cry. Her eyes, one brown and one blue, looked over to the teenagers towering over her.
"Someone's hiding a little something in that bag. It wouldn't be of value to us, would it?" One of they boys smiled maliciously.
"We wouldn't know unless we were to take it from her, but since she's already seen our faces... I don't think it'd be too farfetched to take it up a notch." They young woman scoffed, taking out her pocket knife. Charlotte flinched. This was it, she thought, she was done for. Gone. Doomed. She braced herself for the pain that was soon to follow.
That was soon to follow.
"Hey, what's going on here?"
Charlotte looked up upon hearing the voice of an older man, possibly in his late forties, wearing what seemed to be tattered formal wear; khakis with a blue flannel and red suspenders. Upon closer inspection... Was his skin green?
"Leave us alone. Unless you wanna get tangled up in this mess." The other boy snapped.
"Excuse me? Was that a threat?" The man asked, stepping closer into a nearby street lamp. His skin was definitely green. "You wouldn't want to mess with a former member  of the brotherhood, now, would you? Leave that girl alone and you may not have to."
"What, and ruin my chances of possibly striking it with whatever's in that old bag? You're nuts, mutie." The woman snarled.
"If you say so. Guess I'll have to take this into my own hands." He shrugged. The man suddenly stuck out his prehensile tongue, wrapping it around the girl's wrist, causing her to drop the knife. He would've done worse, but the hooligans were underage, thus he didn't want to actually hurt them. He lunged towards Charlotte, who was too in shock to react. He picked her up with one arm. The teenagers soon pursued.
Finally, after a few seconds to calm down a bit, she mustered enough courage to speak.
"S-sir? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere safe. Just hold on and don't look down, I have a plan. You might want to hold on to that luggage of yours, too." He said, sprinting towards a dumpster near the mouth of an alleyway. Using his other arm to balance himself, he jumped onto it. Charlotte closed her eyes tightly, practically strangling her bag. The man leapt onto the ladder of a fire escape, swiftly using it to climb up the building it was attached to. The group of teens weren't stopped by this, as they followed them up the iron bars and platforms.
Once they made it up, they were greeted by the same antagonizing group. The man stopped, though he didn't put Charlotte down just yet. They young woman drew her knife once more, taking a step towards them. "It's over, frog legs, we warned you."
"I'm supposed to be a toad, not a frog, you fool." He grumbled, running towards the edge of the building's roof. Charlotte dared open her eyes, yelping, her mouth agape. They were running off the building--they were going to fall and die. "Sir, you're crazy!" The brunette screeched.
"Not really. You've never met a mutant, now, have you?" He chuckled. "Just don't worry. Trust me, I have everything under control." He said as he sprang fifteen feet across to the next building, stumbling a bit upon landing due to one arm obviously being busy. Charlotte stared at the teenagers, who had now stopped following and were left behind on the other building. They were just as surprised as she was. He did this a couple more times until they reached a building with another fire escape leading to the ground.
The mutant put Charlotte down almost having to catch her as she teetered backwards, trembling. "Are you okay, kid?"
"I'm... I'm... I'm..." She sighed, pausing, nodding gratefully. "Thank you. I could've been killed. I owe you one." The englishgirl said, calming down a bit.
"No problem, though, we should rest here for a while. Those people could be waiting for us below... Here, have a seat."
She sat down next to the mellow man, on a concrete block. Actually, now that she could focus more on the man, she realized that he spoke in traces of an accent. "Are you from England?"
"Yes. I was born in York, but I moved here."
"Nice! I'm from London. My father owns a huge textiles company there."
"Really? What's the daughter of a businessman doing out here in the middle of the night?"
"Erm..." Charlotte shook her head, frowning. "My parents lost me on holiday when I was eight. I was kidnapped a few days later and forced into being a child beggar. They probably think I'm dead."
"I see... How old are you?"
"Twelve."
"You've been out here for four years?" He asked, quite surprised.
"Not on the streets. I went back to begging recently because I ran away from my caretaker."
"Why did you run away?"
"Er, well, I was cornered on the street on my way home, kind of like I was a few minutes ago. I panicked and made a man explode from the inside out."
"Wait... What?"
"I made a hydrogen atom inside him split. I saw it myself. It's like my mind went blank and reprogrammed to look as his basic molecular structure for a split second. I learned about atoms with my old caretaker."
"So you're a mutant..."
"If that's what they call it. You're one too, right? Are you an X man?" She asked. Those were the other ones like her she knew of.
"No," he chuckled, finding her question slightly amusing. "I swept their halls and scraped chewing gum off their desks, though. What I was was a member of the brotherhood of evil mutants, well, before being hired and fired, anyway. Do you know who Magneto is?"
Charlotte shifted around. "No." She shook her head. "So you used to be a bad guy?"
"Yes. I was magneto's sidekick. He was the only person who would take me in at the time." He sighed. "He wanted to wipe out the human populace, and treated me like garbage while he was at it. The only person who would defend me would he his daughter, Wanda. I fell in love with her, but she was repulsed by me."
"I don't find you repulsive."
"You don't?"
"I find you strange, but everyone's strange." She shrugged.
"Thank you, I guess." He smiled.
Charlotte paused, looking up. "By the way, what's your name? You saved my life but I never asked for your name."
"Mortimer Toynbee."
"Nice to meet you mister Toynbee, I'm Charlotte Waylette."
"Well nice to meet you too then, Charlotte." He said, offering to shake hands. She did so.
Charlotte then stood up, walking up to and looking over the edge of the building. "Say, I think they left. We can go back now."
"But where will you go?" Mortimer asked, standing up. "Here, you don't want to get too close." He said as he gently pushed her aside. He looked over for a while. This was obviously a busier area. He smiled a bit, admiring the scenery from up above. The Englishman wondered if he could make it to Westchester. Take the poor girl somewhere safe. She really did seem charming, and deserved better than living on streets. What if she could apply as a student at the Jean Grey School? Quentin could look after her for him, and she would be happy and able to know that she had a place of permanent residence until she turned eighteen, perhaps even more time if she chose to stay there. Maybe he would even catch a glimpse of Paige as he snuck her in.
"Hey, Charlotte?"
"Yes?"
"Do you have anywhere safe to spend the night?"
"I was planning to crawl into a small space with my bags and sleep there. I've been staying there for weeks."
Mortimer shook his head. "The key word here is safe. Look at what happened to you a few minutes ago; a kid like you shouldn't be out here."
"Oh..." She looked over at him. "Well, where do you suppose we should go?"
We?
Mortimer decided to ignore that.
"I'll be more than happy to take you to a mutant school in Westchester County. The one I used to work for." He looked back, "you could meet the X men."
"Oh, but you would come too, right?"
"I'd have to leave you there, I'm afraid. I'm not in the best terms with anyone there, save for one of the students and possibly a staff member. I'll try to write to you-"
"I can't go then."
"What?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Listen, mister Toynbee, back there, I could've been killed. Without you interfering, I'd be probably dead now. You saved me and, like I said before, I owe you. How am I supposed to keep an eye on you if you're a city away?" She asked, 100% serious.
Mortimer was a bit surprised by what the girl was saying. He sighed. "Listen, Charlotte, I'm flattered, but you're only twelve. If anything, I'd be the one keeping an eye on you." He frowned. "Even then, I have nowhere to go myself--not to mention that I barely have the resources for one person, let alone two. I could reside in a swamp for months, you couldn't, and even if you could, I certainly wouldn't let you."
"But I want to be your sidekick! Like you were for that magneto guy, but... Um... We would be saving lives and things like that and you would be much more pleasant to work with."
Mortimer hadn't had anything close to a sidekick since he led the brotherhood. Eileen was a good person, but look where teaming up with him led her to. Sure, one could blame the events of m-day, but he himself felt that she wouldn't have gone into a catatonic state if he hadn't recruited her. Then again, Charlotte seemed like she wanted to play hero as much as he did at different times in his life.
He really didn't know how to deal with this. Maybe this was the start of another group? It certainly wouldn't be another incarnation of the brotherhood.
Charlotte felt like she was failing to convince him. "I can be very powerful if I wanted to be. Maybe I could try to turn lead into gold or something to help financially. I can also see the past of an object when I touch it. That's how I helped my old caretaker. She works at an antique shop. Maybe you could teach me how to fight crime with my powers like the X men do. You worked for them, so surely you must've seen a thing or two. Please let me travel with you. I promise I won't be a burden."
Mortimer frowned. "You're not a burden. That's not what I'm afraid of. I'm scared that you might get hurt."
"Well I won't. And if I do, I mean, that's part of life, right?"
Maybe having a child travel with him wouldn't be so bad. Maybe having her around would help him with his depression, who knows? For the first time in a few years, he didn't feel so alone.
He was going to regret this sooner or later.
Mortimer turned to face her. "Fine, but if things get too dangerous, I'm sending you to the Jean Grey School."
"Wonderful! Oh, thank you mister Toynbee, I promise I'll be the best sidekick you've ever had." She grinned. Mortimer smiled back. "Well, I don't doubt it."
"And I'll do my best to keep you safe, too." She said, nodding.
"I swear on my life."