Cordelia wasn't sure if Doctor Scales had no sense of humor or was just fucking with her with a totally deadpan expression-it was hard to gauge, given that his smiles and his "i'm going to eat your heart out" faces were fairly similar to the untrained eye. Cordelia merely chewed her current mouthful of food with deliberation, swallowed pensively, and muttered, "He shits out silver. There's a metaphor in there somewhere." She took a sip of her drink (Pepsi. Not Coke. Coke was for little bitches) and struggled to refrain from spewing it out when Henry mentioned a power instructor. Power instructor? How in the hell were they going to teach her anything? As far as Lynn was concerned, she was at the top of her game when it came to using her particular endowment, primarily because her power did its own thing. She didn't do anything retarded like trying to control it, and it took pretty good care of her. Lynn figured a power instructor would just mess that delicate, happy little balance up. Lynn resumed quietly eating her food, considering her sole venture at socializing a failure, until Scales turned his focus back onto her. What's her name, and where's she from. Lynn considered giving him a totally bullshit answer for the hell of it, but figured he hadn't actually done anything to merit being fucked with. Yet. Lynn sorted the people of the world into two categories: "Annoying" and "Just a matter of time". "Uh," Lynn said smartly, caught off-guard by someone, you know, talking to her-in lieu of talking down to her. "Name's Lynn. I'm from Chicago. You?" Lynn frowned. "I mean, where you're from, you already said your name and all." Lynn spoke with a sort of forced calm-she seemed awkward, but not in the typical sense. Rather, she seemed like she was on edge-eyes darting to her sides, fingers drumming the table. Her spare hand (which revealed faded bruises on her knuckles) was propping up her chin, masking her face a bit. Her blue eyes settled on Henry, studying him for a moment. This, of course, before she was distracted by Alex's ([i]Oh, great, now we have a bitch that glows in the dark[/i]) arrival. And you know? For a second, Lynn's reflexive cynicism faltered. This chick seemed chill. I mean, that was a stretch, given that anyone willing to go to a jungle academy of superpowered, hormonally imbalanced teenagers was definitely not chill, but she was comparatively cool. Smiling. Took balls to smile, really. You go into a room of badasses, the one who's quiet, with a little grin on his face-he's the one you watch out for.

Lynn gave Alex the once-over. She wasn't the one you watch out for. Lynn sized that up pretty quickly-the way she carried herself? She didn't think of herself as a predator, didn't see herself as a threat. You could tell with Morticia, the fucker with the yellow eyes-they thought they were hot shit-this girl didn't. Which, strangely, earned her another point in Lynn's book. The dick measuring contest of tough guy types got old after a while (that being said, Lynn would still be doing it), this chick wasn't bothering with the bullshit. Huh. Doctor Scales was half decent and so was the walking Christmas tree. "Lynn," she said simply, nodding her head in recognition. She'd spoken to two strangers today. Cordelia figured if she stayed here too much longer, she'd probably start being nice to people too.

And Suits was still glancing over at her. Suits was going to get a foot broken off in his ass, nicotine dependency or no.