Pen watched as the reluctant gaggle of kids slowly gathered around her, but she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the deep blue of the cloudless sky above her. This heat wave had been going on for a few days, now, meaning her temper would be on a short leash today. And, typically, she had just been thrown into a situation which would undoubtedly require every scrap of her patience.

It wasn't going to end well. 

Mrs Fliss and one of the other teachers - who sighed, having drawn the short straw to be roped into helping Mrs Fliss - disappeared into the building to inform the rock research (yawn) staff that they had arrived. The first to join her; Whiskey or Whitney - or whatever the kid was called - seemed to determined to ignore her and she could hardly blame him. She didn't want to be in this group as much as he did. When Saxon, the school's infamous prankster, had sat down near her and she had nearly groaned out-loud. Though she had to admit he was funny, she did not want to end up on the receiving end of one his pranks, especially today. And unfortunately, she had a one in ten chance of doing so.

Next was some teen called Dante who Pen could vaguely recall was some kind of fighter - and she certainly wouldn't be picking him a fight with him any time soon, however tempted. She knew when to shut up, however much other may think otherwise. He was the first to say anything - he reckoned himself one of the 'good' guys. But guys who fought for a hobby had to have a vicious streak somewhere, surely, she mused. She didn't bother replying.

The girl with the weird, brightly-coloured hair drifted over to the area - Alvira, was it? - and proceeded to zone out, staring blankly into space. Pen was tempted to swat her hand in front of the girl's vacant eyes but decided against any unnecessary interaction with her group members, especially one that allegedly carried around teeth - human? shark? - in her pocket, according to the rumours (who [i]does[/i] that?). She didn't want to start a fight. Yet.

Try as she might, Pen could not recollect ever seeing the next girl around school. She seemed ever so slightly familiar - a ghost, of a ghost of a memory - but she was the sort of girl who didn't draw attention. Her mannerism all seemed to be designed to melt into the background as much as possible; Pen never got those sort of people. Her attitude was more of a 'say-what-you-think-regardless-of-the-people-around-you' type thing. The next girl, too, seemed quite non-attention seeking. Reaffirming that this group was certainly not her usual company.

The next kid sat down too, glancing up at the sky. Dave, Pen thought he was called. She did not like nor dislike the kid. To be honest, she didn't know him and so, she supposed she couldn't draw a conclusion either way.

Oh and, of course, Jesse - that rich kid who reckoned himself better than everyone else. Snobbery always made her blood boil and she felt her jaw clench as he sauntered up. He thinks he's God gift, she scoffed to herself, as she stretched out on the grass, her legs cramping from the long bus journey. When Mrs Fliss came to herd them inside, she leapt onto her feet and shoved her hands in her pocket, strolling towards the entrance. She ignored Fliss's instruction to pair up within groups and faked a yawn.

"Everyone ready to look at some super-interesting rocks?" she hollered to the rest of her group, in a sarcastic tone - more to annoy Mrs Fliss, than anyone else. Mrs Fliss's hands flew to her hips but she said nothing, glaring sharply at Pen before leading the groups inside, beginning to reel off which groups were going where. 

----------------------

Dr Goode pushed out from his desk and sauntered out into the hallway, having received note from the secretary that the kids had signed in and would be poking their noses in soon. Pilot's examination was on the top floor of the five-storey building and the kids were limited to the first floor, so he wasn't particularly concerned about them discovering anything. The top-secret second experimental strain was cultivating in a top sercret lab that was locked to most of the scientists - let alone the public - so that didn't really bother him either. 

He strode into the room where Pilot lay - ah! Magnificent, he thought, every time he clapped eyes on his super soldier. A few scientists scurried around, clutching clipboards and a monitor beeped regularly, signalling that Pilot was functioning normally, even in his drug-induced slumber. The drugs - yet another invention of Dr Goode's - were nearly faultless and Dr Goode had considered marketing them alone, as a product . But that would cause questions, complications and so he had decided to wait until the big unveiling of his first priority experiment, the canine experiment.

"Wesley?" he snapped at one of the younger scientists, a small man with nervous, wide eyes and ginger hair. The poor man's eyes magnified by 10 times their normal size at being addressed by the head of the labs. He held a syringe, full of a colourless liquid.

"Wake up Pilot. Fully, this time. Just a quick check to see if Izzy has disappeared once and for all."

His cruel lips twisted upwards into a smile.