Oh. Joy. Locker rooms.

Lynn had weathered Alex's enthusiasm pretty well-Lynn herself was a near-equal bundle of apprehension and excitement. Where she'd come from, well, her gifts weren't exactly publicized. There were certainly rumors, which is the way Lynn wanted it. Rumors. No one knowing, for sure, what the little white girl was capable of doing. The one thing for sure that Cordelia Lynn Holmes wanted the various assholes of the world to know was this: for all the shit she talked, she could sure as hell back it up.

"Yeah. Hey, uh, just a heads up, keep checkin' in with me about that phone number. Think I've only got twenty or so minutes left on it." Lynn eyed a passing student, who had a hundred dollar bulge in their back pocket. Was stealing from metahumans wise? No. Was going without a cell phone wise? Hell no. One must have priorities.

Lynn followed the crowd, which was something she was normally quite averse to doing. Even before she stripped down in the locker room, she felt naked-she'd had the foresight to leave her backpack in the room, not trusting the other people in the locker room to not fuck with it. If she could pop open a lock in a minute, somebody else could, too. If they found the cigarettes or the lockpicking stuff, she had a feeling she'd be on the next boat ride home. Which, admittedly, could be preferable to another day of classes. Lynn didn't feel bad for glancing at Alex's papers and copying down her notes verbatim. Well, trying to. Christ, everyone talked so fast about all this complex shit. She'd excused herself to the bathroom (another thing-ASKING to go take a piss? What the hell was that?) and punched the wall at one point. This was fucking insane. She didn't know any of this bullshit.

So, Lynn was hoping that this power training stuff was right up her alley. Because, uh...the academics of the Academy were going right over her head. 

Personalized suits. Okay, that was creepy. [i]When the hell did they get my measurements?[/i] Lynn figured they had somebody with a power like that, ya know, clothes powers or whatever. She figured that wasn't the coolest power, but you were probably really well-dressed most of the time. No, shit. Personalized suits meant changing. In the locker rooms. Lynn closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fingers rolling themselves into scarred little fists. [i]I swear to Christ I will not last a week here.[/i] At which point, of course, her (admittedly, kinda cute) overly optimistic tagalong grabbed her and began pulling her towards the locker rooms. Changing. Okay. Fuck it. Changing. She could do this. Lynn moved into the locker room, perhaps a little too quickly, and found her locker-which was sorta surreal, because she wasn't used to seeing her full name anywhere. CORDELIA LYNN HOLMES. She'd always found her last name to be rather brutally ironic, given her...nomadic...lifestyle. Lynn popped open her locker and saw her suit, taking it down and examining it for a minute.

Okay, admittedly? This shit was pretty tight. The suit was black, some kinda smooth leather or plastic or something-Lynn hadn't really been paying attention to what the stick-up-his-ass professor dude had said (although she had looked up when he made one hell of a draft come through). She looked it up down for a few moments before starting to put it on. Kevlar padding? Well, she didn't think she needed any armor at all, personally, but whatever. Lynn put the suit back down and took a deep breath, teeth clenched tight enough to make a dentist cry. Reaching down, she ripped off her sweatshirt and tanktop, leaving her torso naked. The girl very firmly faced the corner, keeping her front side out of sight. Lynn's back was more ink than paleness, a beautifully horrifying rendering of Judgment Day, the Four Horsemen riding out from her spine, with generally apocalyptic things playing out in the background. Her arms were cloaked in a rendering of two phoenixes and what appeared to be the angel of death. Say what you will of Lynn's choices in body art, she at least didn't have any dumbass "No Regrets" style ink jobs. Lynn very hurriedly pulled her jeans down (this was easy, given their baggy nature) and kicked them off, throwing her clothes into a bundle in the locker. She had no damned idea if you were supposed to wear these things with clothes underneath, but she wasn't about to strip bare-ass naked for these people. Scars by the dozens visible on her back, arms, and legs, Lynn grabbed her suit and slipped into it, grunting for a moment. Tight fit. Lynn was sure as hell not used to that-most clothes swallowed her up, and gave her the appearance of being bigger than she was-which she liked. This was not going to make any attempts to buff up her size. Sidling into the suit, Lynn found the near-skintight nature of thch she fabric to be immediately annoying-skintight, not cool. The black was sexy, though. Badass. She zipped it up to her throat and noted that her shoulders had a strange kind of...ruffle? There was some material lining the edges of her shoulder and neck, which she played with for a moment. The hell? Lynn arched her neck, looking behind her, and saw that her shadow appeared buffer and larger as a result.

"Oh, hell yeah," Lynn grinned. She padded herself down, making sure there were no surprises, and noticed there was a hood on the back of her suit. Pulling it up and over her head, she found that-while it killed her peripheral vision, it did obscure her entire face in darkness. "Huh. This might actually not suck total dick."

Lynn turned and walked out of the locker room, locating Alex fairly quickly. Changing was never a fun experience, and she generally preferred to anchor herself afterwards, whether it be with cigarettes or music or a familiar face. Lynn eyed Alex up and down and smirked. "Nice, Nightlight. Rockin' the uh, superhero look, or whatever. I bet we all look like dumbasses right now....or tryhards." Lynn turned around, pulling her hood back and shaking her hair a bit. She never bothered much with her hair, but she was considering getting dreads. Wouldn't that be kickass? Plus she'd save time, not having to wash it and stuff. "Oh, look at Lizardman." Lizardman had a little minor aneurysm over some dumb bitch trying to get a piggyback ride. Who the fuck ran and jumped on a seven hundred pound gecko from behind? Lynn watched him curiously for a moment. Hmm. He was pretty happy go lucky earlier. And smart, with the college degree and all. So, why had he flipped out like that? If you ran up and jumped on Alex from behind, you would've gotten a squeak of surprise and then laughed it off. You ran up and jumped on Lynn, you would've been rendered unable to have children in the most painful way possible. 

And it was lookin' like the salamander fell into that second camp. What dark shit had gone on in his past, that he reacted that way? Lynn figured maybe it was instincts. You know, like his animal side taking over and stuff. Plus, Lynn figured the only time he ever got a good fuck was when he went to the zoo and got a moment or two with the Komodo dragons, so he was probably really repressed and stuff. Lynn had to really, really fight down the urge to ask if he threw a hissyfit whenever Blackmore came and cleaned his tank at night, too. [i]Remember, he can kick your ass. He probably weighs, like, half as much as a truck or something.[/i]

Lynn may not have been the most eloquent, but you couldn't fault the girl for idiocy-her brand of rather crude psychoanalysis was rarely wrong.

"So, I don't know what kinda crap they'll make us do, but we'll just hang tight," Lynn said, scanning the surroundings. There was Morticia, looking as though she'd taken that whole "customize your clothes" shit to heart. Lynn rolled her neck and shoulders, limbering up a bit. She was not, however, stretching. Stretching was for pussies. "If we get put on different teams, then we just won't harass each other. Sound good?" 

Some hot bitch was getting a ton of attention from people. Which, you know, wasn't really surprising, but it did make Lynn chuckle. Whoa! She and the roomie were tight. Roomie could actually display positive emotions. Lynn was feeling more and more lost by the hour. "We should go talk with people," Lynn mused. "I mean, they're probably dumbasses, you know, but it can't hurt. I'll try to play nice. You're good at that, you like, do the talking and stuff, and I'll just nod at the right places, and maybe they'll think I'm nice."