NEW YORK CITY WAS ON THE MENDS. A bizarre turn of events had taken the city by surprise just months before, leaving many to feel stranded and confused. However, there was the population that carried on as if nothing happened. The sidewalks, while many damaged, were still marched on every morning by those scrambling to get to work on time through the heavy traffic of tourists. One would think after a catastrophic scenario that the city would find its tourism failing, but it was quite the opposite. Everyone wanted to see the place where the world had come under attack by foreign invaders.

However, New York City was already busy enough without the added population coming to see the destruction that had been left behind. Traffic whether human or vehicle was always a nightmare to begin with. Just that morning, sirens in the distance caused many to roll their eyes and groan as they had to pull over to the side to make way for the firetruck that was struggling to make its way through.

Despite the sight of the damaged buildings, it really was just another typical morning. Everyone always in a hurry to get where they needed to go, never really bothering to pay any mind to their surroundings.

Which made for the perfect hunting grounds.

Among the disgruntled scurrying along in packs, there appeared to be a smile, caressed by red lips. A young woman triumphantly strutted down the sidewalk, the click of her heels marking every step of victory. In her hand, she carried a small clutch that she glanced over. Needless to say, it did not belong to her but that's what made it so exciting.

Opening it up, she glanced inside to see a wad of cash, along other things that definitely added to win. She peered up to make sure that she was still following the line of human traffic, careful to not be caught up in people coming from the opposite direction.

It was like playing Secret Santa, reaching her hand into the little purse and pulling out whatever her hand touched first. As her hand grabbed something rectangular, she pulled it out, wondering if it were a credit card. But alas, it was only a driver's license, dawning the face of the woman who had yet to notice that something so valuable was missing from her possession.

"Hello, Rachel...Hoo...Han...Hanoom..., whoa, that is one hell of a last name you got there, lady."

Compared to the simplicity of Kit Dean, most names were complicated. She could count all the letters of her full name using two hands and that was just how she liked it.

The next pick was a credit card and another one after that, and even another one after that. Eventually, she was holding onto several cards in just one hand, leaving a baffled look to take over. Why exactly did one need to carry around so many credit cards? Six in counting seemed a bit excessive in Kit's mind, and credit cards weren't the prizes she was going after. It was the cash, settled at the bottom that made the whole little operation worth it.

Credit and debit cards could easily be shut off, sometimes easier to trace back once stolen, but cash money, was a friend to thieves. It didn't leave a trail and the little faces of former dead presidents greeted her with little smiles, ready to spent on whatever she wanted.

Keeping pace, Kit pocketed the money and did a quick glace around to spot the blonde in the trench coat that had been so involved in her phone conversation to notice anything was missing from her purse. It wasn't hard to miss Rachel, her near-platinum curls bouncing at her shoulders, while she argued with whoever was on the other end of the line. Her opportunity to return the clutch was open and she went for it, feigning an expression of urgency and innocence.

"Miss? Excuse me, miss?" she called out to Rachel, reaching out to tap the woman's shoulder. Almost immediately, Rachel rounded on her, appearing irritated that someone had dared to distract her from her conversation. She eyed Kit up and down, taking in the appearance of the brunette dressed in casual attire.

At least it wasn't another homeless person attempting to bed money off of her, but still, she didn't like to be bothered by the lower class.

"Sorry to bother you," Kit said, noting the poppy seed that was stuck in Rachel's front teeth, " but you dropped this back there."

Holding out the clutch, Kit watched as Rachel's eyes widened, a flush of red gracing her cheeks before she quickly peered down at her purse. She sorted through the contents inside before realising that it was, in fact, her clutch that Kit was holding. Perhaps it was a bit of a humbling experience that not everyone was after a quick dollar, if only that had held out to be true. However, at the time, she wasn't aware that her cash was missing, she was just thankful to have her little designer clutch back safely among her.

"Oh, thank you so much!" Rachel exclaimed as she snatched it into her hands.

The woman said nothing more as she took her things and turned around to leave. Kit stood there, watching the fine specimen that was Rachel walk away. She tilted her head to the side as Rachel grew smaller and smaller as the distance between them grew further. And finally, when Rachel turned the corner and disappeared, Kit reached into her pocket and pulled out the money she had taken.

"Oh no, Rachel," she said, " thank you. Thank you so much for buying me breakfast this morning."

The atmosphere of Ellen's Stardust Diner was a spin on the American classic, a 50's themed diner, settled in modern day Manhattan. Kit decided to treat herself to a nice meal as her stomach rumbled, making her way inside and seating herself to a party of one. Her eyes flickered over the menu of classic breakfast items before trailing over to a promising list of milkshakes. After placing in her order of a stack of pancakes and a nice chocolate milkshake, Kit settled back into her booth, propping her feet up.

Glancing out the window, the scene of several construction workers tending to one of the buildings across the way captured her attention. The side of the building had suffered, caution tape wrapped around the sidewalk, telling pedestrians that it was not a safe area to walk. The only thing supporting the area was a temporary frame as New York was being stretched thin for repairs.

The cause of the destruction?

Aliens, freaking aliens.

After years of watching alien theories and movies, the last thing Kit had anticipated that one day had been an alien invasion. They were just something that whacked out scientists focused on after being let go from their government jobs, or at least, that's what she had convinced herself. But that seemed to come back to nearly bite her in the ass as she had been nearly caught in the act with her pants down.

There she was, trying to make another quick steal off the streets when a car had come hurdling towards her and her unsuspecting victim at the time. She had been able to dodge it, pushing the man down that she had been after. The two of them had fortunately survived, but after that, she could only describe the situation as panic ensuing. It was suddenly all about survival and thankfully, that was something Kit was good at.

She had started running to avoid all the chaos and didn't stop until she was a safe distance from the main area of the attack. But there was a bright side to it all, the city had been saved (for the most part) by Earth's Mightiest Heroes or as the government had dubbed them recently " The City Destroyers."

Even the city seemed split about how they felt about their heroes, some adored them, others not so much. As for Kit, she, honestly, didn't really care. While she had almost been killed, life afterwards hadn't really changed for better or for worse. Once the aliens were gone, her apartment was still in tact and life went on. People could latch onto the destruction, they could claim they were broken from it, but Kit wouldn't make a victim of herself. She had learned long ago that victims didn't make it, survivors did.

Survivors sought out opportunities and that's what she did every waking moment of her day. Every person was an opportunity and around every corner, another adventure was waiting for her arrival.

That's what alley cats were all about and that's what she had been called from the time she was little by her mentor, O'Malley. They seized what they could, even at the risk of being called a nuisance by others. But that was it, Kit only viewed herself as a pain in the ass. She wasn't a good person, but she wasn't necessarily a bad one either.

Looking away from the scene of the ongoing construction site, Kit's eyes flickered over in the direction of the upcoming crowd. Among them, a man was being knocked from side to side with people moving him out of their way. There wasn't even a muttering of an apology or an "excuse me" Kit was willing to bet money on it. But she recognised him, an old friend, as he counted the change in his hand. It was probably all that he had managed to collect that morning so far and since his counting didn't seem to last very long, Kit imagined that he didn't make very much.

Not to mention, as he tried to count it over, a briefcase had managed to knock into his side, tossing the change out of his hand, and spilling onto the sidewalk. He quickly attempted to lower himself, but people just continued to push him as if he wasn't even a person. Biting down, Kit pushed herself up, telling her waitress that she would return right away. The waitress seemed to open her mouth, ready to protest, but it was a little too late as Kit was already out the door.

"Rob! Rob!" she called out his name, making her way through the crowds. She eventually reached him, taking him by the arm and helping him up to his feet. He had only managed to recover what appeared to be a mixture of change that only came to about seventy-five cents.

"Are you alright?" Kit asked as she started moving along, keeping a firm shoulder to act as a barrier from those trying to push through.

"Hey, kid," Rob greeted her with a tired smile, after brushing himself off, " where have you been? Haven't seen you around in quite some time. I was hoping you had gone off to bigger and better things."

Rob, protector of the homeless youth, a blessing to all of those that knew him. He pulled at Kit's heartstrings, seeing how thin he had become in a matter of weeks. Times were not getting easier for him.

"Well, you know, I make my way around but somehow, I still manage to make my way back home. Come on, let me treat you to some breakfast," she said, " I already have a booth inside."

"Oh no, I couldn't do that-"

She wasn't going to take no as an answer and she made that perfectly clear as she guided him inside. The scene of an attractive young woman reentering a diner with an older man that was far from clean led plenty to turn their heads. Some in curiosity, others in disgust, but Kit didn't care as she had Rob join her at the table.

"Order anything you like."