"What the FUCK?!" A clear, aggravated, and genuinely distasteful growl trampled over the collective voices of the students in the room, if only for a second. It came late, as if someone were sleeping and had awoken to a friend explain in detail to them what had just occurred. It was a rather formidable young man from which the voice came, and he stood up from his seat in between a pair of instantly timid individuals who curled up into their seats.

I don't know this guy seemed to be their silent chant. The man was at least six feet tall and built like an I-beam, as if his musculature just screamed, "try to hurt me!" His shoulders bore several indiscernible tattoos in latin, and a heart with some female's name printed across it. Most notable of all, however, was the black bandanna that hung over his lower face, covered in prints of white bone and rose petals. All that was needed for him and his black tank-top was a motorcycle, and he'd suddenly seem a lot less out of place.

His scowl brought the bandanna up to his eyes, and his whole body tensed with testosterone. Was he even under 18? No one at the time dared question it. His string of curses and incoherent ranting silenced a large swathe of the elevator, but those further away still managed to hold a conversation underneath the vocal tyranny. His complaints were shared with most people there -that was for certain- but the manner in which he expressed it was clearly unneeded; such opinions were clear in the displeasure that painted over his audience.

On several occasions he looked down at someone nearby and directly asked them personally, assaulting their very person with loud words. "The fuck is this shit?! This can't have been allowed by the gov! Fuck those guys! You hear me?!" It was as if he was asking specifically for recognition, as if the others might not have shared his sentiment. To anyone perceptive enough, it was plain as day that behind his tough stature and loud voice, he was quite scared himself.

Others vocalized the same in a more discrete manner. Already some began to seemingly declare some sort of fruitless war on the staff, as if they could procure enough power to earn themselves a better stay at the Academy. Some cried. Some changed very little. Most were quiet, and a few chattered more sanely and intelligently among their new comrades. It was common knowledge, at that point, that strong friendships were going to be a requirement if one wanted to push along safely here.

The girl in the shoulder cape -likely a teleporter given the direct stare given her by the soldier-woman who had entered prior- kept to herself for a good while, eyes trained to her feet and the relative dirtiness of the elevator floor. She had failed to notice the lack in cleanliness. Just another danger sign she could have used to predict the future, she supposed, not that leaving the elevator was an option. Timid as she appeared to be, the girl eventually lifted her gaze to look about the room, eyeing each group and individual as if appreciating their worth. Really, though, she was simply scanning for a good group to weave herself into. If this was anything like a prison, you needed friends.

The girl rose from her seat and followed just behind Shane, believing it to be a good and slightly less awkward chance at introducing herself when someone else did the same before her. She came from behind Shane and jolted her own introduction in just after his, hoping no one would really notice that she was completely separate from Shane.

"And I'm Madeline," she interjected quietly. Her hunched and loose posture nearly forced her to the floor as the elevator suddenly decelerated, and the lights outside began to be discernible from one another, rather than a continuous stream of light. Beyond the glass, a large bulkhead door and platform at its feet grew closer and closer. The tiny figures of two soldiers standing at its sides became visible, as well as the formidable pair of guns mounted on the tunnel's sides. The room locked into one final place, and the doors opened, followed by a brief but deafening buzzer. The way and demand was clear.

Students shuffled about one another back to where they had placed their luggage, and quietly rolled or carried it outside, stopping themselves dozens of feet away from the soldiers standing watch. As the last body stumbled out and into the crowd, the soldiers pressed a few buttons on electronic pads revealed from their armored uniforms, and the elevator doors closed before being sent back the way it came.

From the ceiling, a pair of spinning yellow lights signaled danger as a five foot tall set of bars formed behind the gathering, serving as a makeshift barrier and halting them from stepping backwards; and rightfully so. As the elevator disappeared into the horizon, the whole ground shook violently, and the tunnel beyond began to shift. One by one, the tunnel separated into countless individual tubes, and each descended one after the other atop their own pillars. What was once a transit passage of steel made way for a impossibly vast atrium dominated by hanging skyscrapers and permeating metal pathways. The platform they stood on hung from some unseen building miles above the closest flat surface, which was itself but a small dot in the sky-land they stood within.

The crowd understandably, then, scrambled away from the extreme drop, compacting the students together as the ones at the front refused to walk closer to the soldiers. The yellow lights spun still, and the soldiers maintained their position as the bulkhead doors -seemingly meant to fit stampedes of elephants- twisted open in a circular pattern, making way for a large, multi-floored room.

And upon the rails lining each floor -swinging, sitting, lying, planking, or simply standing- stood countless other students already waiting for the new arrivals. Their faces were a mix of anticipation, fear, disgust, anger, and apathy. The new kids had arrived. The new blood. The scene couldn't have been less prison-like, as if the students with their luggage in tow were being sized up by the veterans, soon to be assimilated or ostracized by the culture that undoubtedly gripped their new home. Students leaning on the rails laughed, pointed, smiled, winked, glared, spat, cursed, hailed, growled, gestured, danced... one in particular mooned the arrivals briefly before high-fiving a friend of his.

The buzzer roared again, and the soldiers gestured for them to enter. Above the bulkhead doors, a large, wide monitor displayed in clear white letters:

TOWER 89F

It wasn't long before they were joined by another person. He seemed slightly younger than the previous two, and bore simple, unassuming clothing. His face had a pronounced red-ish tone, and he bore blond hair of average length.

"Hi," he began, still looking a little flustered by the speech. "I'm Rhys. Treharne. Wish we were meeting under better circumstances..."

"You know what?" Cormac said, humorously glancing at March. "Never mind what I said earlier..."

The suit-clad blond that March had beckoned earlier was the next to introduce himself.

"Introductions are in order? Kirill Yudin." he said with a slight bow. "A pleasure."

"Mind if I join?" a nearby person inquired. "I'm Lucas, but you can call me Luke."

"Don't see any reason why not..." Cormac said with a slight shrug.

"I've heard horror stories about this place." Rhys whispered to the group conspiratorially . "I have a friend, his sister's college roommate's nephew was taken here. They say he went insane. I'm just saying that it's something to think about."

"Yes, let's all start thinking about this, it will definitely help alleviate the growing tension." Cormac responded, his voice dripping with subtle sarcasm.

"What the FUCK?!", a booming, loud voice erupted from elsewhere in the room, followed by a number of indiscernible curses. "The fuck is this shit?! This can't have been allowed by the gov! Fuck those guys! You hear me?!"

It was almost as though the universe itself was conspiring to prove his point. The person talking was a large, intimidating, testosterone riddled man wearing a bandana and an almost amusingly stereotypical "thug" attire. Although he was the only one to express his views in such a vocal manner, it was quite clear that the sentiment in the room mostly echoed his words.

"Case and point." he concluded, giving a subtle, comical gesture towards the behemoth. "I don't know about you guys, but I rather enjoy living, and do not particularly fancy getting fried by a high powered electromagnetic pulse."

Before the others could voice their opinions, they were joined by a pair of people, a young man with short cropped dark hair and the young woman with the shoulder cape that lil' Miss General Ripper had singled out earlier.

"Hi. I'm Shane.", the boy introduced himself.

"And I'm Madeline," she interjected quietly, before being almost thrown to the floor by a sudden jolt in the elevator.

"Cormac, March, Kirill, Lucas and Rhys." he enumerated, unfazed, pointing at the relevant people comically as he did so, adding just the right amount of hesitation to make it seem like he required effort to memorize the names. He then quickly added with a falsely serious tone. "We were just discussing the religious implications of accepting Jesus Christ, our lord and saviour, into our daily lives, would care to join us?"

=+=

Eva looked as Desmond took out a high-tech looking jar and proceeded to pour a black substance from his finger into it. She guessed that having a symbiote wasn't really that easy. From his explanation it sounded like it was a lot like a constant struggle for dominance over his body. Though his warning about how Teeth could bind to someone else sounded a bit scary to her. She did wonder though, would he be able to bond to her considering all of her blood was corrosive. Would he melt while trying to bond or would the symbiote actually be able to bind with her and give her some extra power. She decided it would be the safest if she never had to test that out.
She was pulled from her musings when she heard a loud voice, looking over she saw it was a big thug looking guy shouting about everything wrong with this situation. An unseen small smile came around her lips when she heard him say the government wouldn't allow this. Did he really forget that there was an actual law that forced them to go here, laws made by the government. Others seemed to go with his thought and she guessed they would be the ones doing everything they could to upset the leaders here. She also noticed almost no student was alone anymore and a lot of big groups had been formed as well. Maybe she and Desmond would be a bit safer if they joined one too.
She wasn't able to go on with these thoughts anymore as the lift ground to a halt and they had to leave it. During the chaos of leaving she tried to stay as close to Desmond as she could as to not lose the only one she knew in this crowd. Though a lot happened while moving to their destination, the actual destination was a lot worse than she had thought. The way the other student, if she could even call these people that, were acting so random towards them. There was one thing she was sure of and that was that they were actually checking out the new blood. She didn't know why, but she was actually scared and gripped Desmonds hand out of reflex.

Desmond ignored the shouting idiot. They all hated what was happening but shouting at the top of one's lungs wouldn't change anything, in fact it would probably just paint a target on their head for the staff to keep an eye out for. When the kid yelled something about the government it made Desmond think, he'd always been a fairly patriotic person and yet his country was treating him like a criminal. As though he deserved this, for being some kind of a thug, a menace to society, and while he certainly wasn't a model citizen and he had his own dabbling in bullying it did not warrant being thrown into a maximum security prison for the rest of his life. Pedophiles, murderers, and terrorists got this kind of treatment, not young and confused kids who had no control over the way their DNA was sequenced. He could feel his rage building again and he breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't have Teeth in him. Desmond looked around and saw all of the other kids making friends and forming groups already, he wondered if he and Eva should try to be in a larger group, what kind of society was already in the prison, gangs perhaps? And if that was the case then he wondered if Teeth made him enough of a threat to be noticed by them. He decided on staying with Eva, her being younger than him he felt some kind of responsibility for her.

Upon being introduced to Tower 89F Desmond gulped in fear. Back home he was a big fish in a puddle. Now he was a guppy in an ocean. He felt Eva's hand grip his and he squeezed back in return. Desmond's dufflebag was slung across his back and he used his left hand to reach into it and open the containment jar, letting the symbiote invade his body and hiding beneath his skin. He was sure that a few of the other kids behind him saw the black goo disappear under the skin of his wrist, however there didn't seem to be any guards behind him so he didn't care. He tilted his head towards Eva. "Stick close to me. Yeah? We won't survive on our own. And especially not if we look weak." He let go of her hand and straightened himself back up and started eyeing all of the veterans back. Showing them that he wouldn't be afraid of them just because he was new. He almost wanted to let Teeth show his teeth but feared any unseen cameras.

Jesus Christ.

March just stared blankly as Cormac introduced them to Shane and Madeline. Cromac certainly has a unique sense of humor, he thought.

He held back a sigh as he observed the group that was just made moments ago. Shane and Rhys were the only normal looking ones. Cormac looked normal but his personality was quirky bordering on weird. And the last two… a kid who looked like he came from a horror story, a kid who looked like the monster from a horror story and a girl who was probably a cyborg.

Well, he shouldn’t be expecting much from a school of supers.

Deciding a conversation would be better than standing there awkwardly listening to Cormac, March picked to talk to horror boy #1 on a whim, “So Kirill, you look… great! What do you think of this crappy situation we have ourselves in?”

Data: That was what Matthew collected. His mind created new eyes and ears for him that no one could see while he informed Miguel of his findings. The older twin slowly placed names with faces and powers, familiarized their voices, picked up unguarded thoughts, and assessed the ways they could be used as allies or fought as enemies. However, this process shut him out from the moving world and rendered his body immobile while he collected; Miguel had to guide his body along and sit him down in the elevator while Matthew kept observing. Their group was a strange and interesting one, given what he had gathered from each person's appearances, abilities, and personalities. But, then again, everyone was strange and interesting here, and the Garcia twins were no exception.

The one with the tech piece is very interesting. Matthew noted.

Yeah, he could be good if we need someone smarter than you. Miguel jabbed.

Quiet, Miguel; we're concentrating. Matthew's face unconsciously scowled to match his tone.

Dude, the elevator is stopping. his brother warned.

What? Matthew reentered reality and consciously blinked his eyes. When the woman entered and gave her breaking speech, he could slowly sense feelings of defeat, fear, and doubt, radiating from the others on the elevator, even from himself and Miguel. They had picked the wrong place to hide from the rest of mankind, and now they would have to stay together even more to survive the hellhole this Second Academy promised to be.

We'll survive. Matthew thought, unsure if he was addressing his twin or reassuring himself. We have to.

Matthew had stopped collecting when the hallway opened up for them. He walked forward almost unflinchingly with Miguel by his side; they seemed like Miguel was guarding Matthew from the eyes and mouths of the older "students." Inmates, more like. Matthew could sense what they felt, and he got angry too. He was no animal to be consumed, and he wouldn't be gazed upon by these others who acted like that was the case.

The esper unconsciously threw his emotions outward like a wave of anger and dread, filling it with the darkest nightmares and most terrifying images he could draw from the recesses of his mind. It would be felt by the others in about a minute; only Miguel was safe from his silent barrage.

I'm going to talk to someone. Someone silent, someone alone. Matthew announced to his brother.

You could at least use your voice this time. Miguel replied, referring to the cords Matthew only used for singing.

I am. Matthew replied. This was his voice now, but Miguel still believed in the power of the spoken word. Dismissing this notion, Matthew moved his gaze to a girl who had remained silent for the trip, who appeared nervous at the prospect of not returning from this prison, or at emerging less than what she was before. Matthew felt the same way, he supposed.

Reaching out to her, Matthew spoke first with the power of his will, transcending the limitations of spoken word to create pure communication.

Hello there; I'm Matthew. He greeted. My brother and I are walking a little ways ahead of you. I'm the shorter one in the black hoodie. Are you alright?

Matthew was indeed wearing a black hoodie, while Miguel wore a white one. Both boys wore jeans with a belt around their hips and athletic tennis shoes on their feet; Matthew also wore a collared blue shirt while Miguel vested himself in a red t-shirt. The older twin had his hands in his pockets, physically drawing into himself, while Miguel played the role of protector and walked a half-step ahead of his more vulnerable sibling. He dragged their luggage alongside him while Matthew carried a backpack filled their personal effects. Both brothers walked with whatever confidence they could manage in front of the Academy seniors: they would not be intimidated by those who were as trapped as them.

- Duplicate

-Duplicate

Shane swayed as the elevator jolted. He almost took the guy who looked to be the smart ass of the group seriously, but was able to catch on in time. Everyone seemed to be waiting for what happened next when the elevator came to a stop at what was perhaps the cheeriest welcoming party he had ever seen.

Walking with the rest of the group, he squeezed onto the platform with the guards. When the platform dropped away, he was caught in the tide away from it. What hedid see of it was breathtaking though. Edging away from the ledge, they were surprised when the doors that could block tanks irised opened, displaying a scene of chaos.

With that visual, Shane reevaluated his assumptions about the school yet again. When the woman had first come into the room, he had feared that the status wuo would be some kind of 24/7 police state, which had then slowly become more optimistic when she started throwing numbers around. After all, if 700,000 superpowered kids didn't tear the station apart, then they would have to be doing something good, right? Now he guessed that "order" took on a diferent paradigm. This one relied on mostly self regulation, using extreme violence on anything that stuck out, no questions asked. Pure anarchy.

He started listing out the kinds of people he would need to start a revolution. You would need... tech guys, empaths, muscle, monitors, and someone to take the helm. One of those, at least, was filled out by him.

The idea of voices in one’s head never seemed so real until you experienced them for yourself. It was also really weird. In fact, it freaked her out so much that if she could have, Barbara probably would have jumped right out of her skin. With a small, physical jolt, her hand reflexively flew to her stomach as though she had been struck there, the defensive movement coming as more of a reflex than a sign that she had actually been hurt. An uncomfortable feeling tingled the back of her neck as she moved, trailing down her spine and over her shoulders, and she realised that she had frozen in place for several seconds, her pink pack half slung over her right shoulder, her arm bent to accommodate for the weight.

The voice itself, floating ominously through her mind, reminded her of a little devil whispering things into her ear from her shoulder, except it was louder, and decidedly more human. The words still felt alien in her own mind, human or not, but they immediately told her what the owner’s ability was and roughly, how it worked, despite him not directly saying so. He was nice, that she could also tell, but though he was certainly friendly about the fact that he was digging around up there unrestricted, it didn’t change the fact that he had almost unlimited access to any personal thoughts or feelings that she may have had the entire trip, and that was something that unsettled her more than anything.
It was very personal, and very confrontational, and being the opposite of her current state of being, she felt an immediate dislike towards the ability. Like a metal shield being thrown up over a body, she instinctively erected a mental wall, clearing her mind of any thoughts that he’d be able to reach, and instead, as something of an exercise, started thinking about miscellaneous facts or things that she could spot around the area. As she walked blindly through the doors of the elevator and started up the hall, she found herself straining to pick out the details around her in an attempt to distract him from her private mind. Such as the way she counted how many growling faces stared at her like she was a piece of meat on legs, or what colour hair the girl in front of her had.

To be fair, she supposed hearing someone’s thoughts was somewhat less dangerous than holding a continuously ticking, electrical time bomb inside your body, and after a few seconds she began to let her guard down, her entire attempt to fend off the intruder having spanned only a few tense minutes. As she actually thought about what he had said, the words now coming back to her, she started to feel somewhat regretful or reacting the way she did.

Her eyes searched for the tell tale black and white attire in the crowd, the level of noise and light in the place splitting her concentration in half. It was daunting, the large amount of people – unnatural, powerful people - but she squared her shoulders and held her chin levelled, calmly staring down anyone aggressive enough to engage in a battle of wills with her. Some looked uncomfortably away when she unfalteringly met their gaze, rising no further to the challenge, whilst others paid her no mind whatsoever, finding other targets around her to heckle and abuse.

She spotted them suddenly, some ways away, and she wormed her way through the people to get to them, her single backpack still hanging off one side of her body, a hand clutched around the strap on her shoulder. They were like two sides of the same coin. Different, yet very similar at the same time. Black and white, yin and yang, almost.
“Hi,” she greeted Matthew, briefly meeting the gaze of the brother beside him as she walked up to greet them. There was a pause as her gaze trailed fleetingly between the two of them, then she stepped up slightly, realisation striking her.

“Oh, right. I’m Barbara.. But I guess you can call me Babs.”

As for how she was.. she’d let that slide.

A hush struggled to wash over the senior crowds looming over their new recruits, as individuals turned to one another to shut each other up, or to add in that one last quip before quieting themselves. Eventually it came to be that only a few small groups here and there amidst the seniors continued talking, but thankfully maintained a level of quietness that allowed for one individual in particular to speak. At the base floor of the room, the senior crowd shuffled slightly, unwilling to fully move themselves out of the way to make a path.

Most of the attention in the arrivals had been lured towards that narrow gap in the crowd, as did the attention of the senior students themselves. From it emerged a student, a girl, of particularly high confidence and -fortunately for the arrivals- possessing of a seemingly warm demeanor. She stopped a few feet from the edge of the gathered crowd and lifted up a dilapidated megaphone, apparently held together by duct tape and unafraid to display its wiring. The bell of the machine was a bent and broken bowl dish, and it was clear when she began to speak that it had lost its glorious sound.

"New students of Tower 89F; welcome!" she yelled over the microphone, her neck tensing visibly as she attempted to make up for the megaphone's shortcomings, "Your true orientation towards Second Academy begins tomorrow, but..." she paused, "but we have all been to it, and it is nothing special. It is short, boring, and chastising. I'm sure, having since stepped off the elevator, that you all understand the implications of living here. You don't need to be reminded or further explained, but they'll say it again anyways." The girl's stern look turned into a smile as her voice shifted from that of a revolutionary to an event coordinator.

"Which is why we of 89F wish to hold a more entertaining orientation for you all; one for the tower itself." She gestured towards the seniority, prompting a genuine, but short-lived cheer. Returning her attention to the arrivals, she continued, "I am Kira Aberdale, and while we don't have any definitive leaders here in 89F, I do supervise a student-run logistics group. If you need any information, help, or somesuch service, come find me or anyone else working with me. That being said, we do organize events like these each year when students arrive. Diplomacy with the staff has allowed us a single day this night to let loose without repercussion. But before we get to go crazy..." she lowered the megaphone and turned behind to seek out in the crowd someone else, who promptly jogged up to her side, a large bundle of papers in hand. The boy at her side whispered a few things into her ear before she spoke again.

"We would like to write all of your names down, so we can have a record of you guys in our Tower roster. The Academy has their own record, and usually prevents us from having better information on everyone here, but our good behavior has let us off the hook, so to speak. As soon as we write your name down, we ask you to proceed over into the center of the room here, where we will continue with introductions." Kira turned off her megaphone haphazardly, scrambling for the switch, which appeared to be rigid and somewhat stuck. She and her accompanying student walked along the front line of the new students and slowly tallied names, and took photos of each student. Many of them asked questions, but given her hurried process, she took no pause to give them a proper answer, instead noting her business and that their concerns could be clarified later on. With the entire group recorded, she flipped the megaphone back on and continued.

"I will read off the names of each new student, and I ask that they raise their hand and repeat it, along with any short information that they'd like to convey to us. We will get to know all of you on an individual basis moreso as time goes on, but for now we'd like to hear from everyone. Kira called each name, and after each student repeated it and said something quick about themselves, the seniors clapped lightly and briefly.

"Your new 89F class!" Kira shouted. Immediately the room burst into a loud cheer, though it was difficult at times to tell whether some were happy to see them, or eager to haze. A few miscellaneous items like food wrappers and long strands of toilet paper were thrown down onto the new arrivals, pelting an unfortunate few. "Continuing on, I'd like to ask the new students to split into three relatively same-sized groups so that we may give a short tour and a 'Q and A' for everyone." Kira, along with two other seniors, herded the group into three forms, splitting them off from one another before speaking before them.

Kira's group was beckoned under the ridges of the upper floors and towards a large double-door below a sign written 'DORMITORIES'. With a smile on her face, she stood at the head of the new students and yelled out without her megaphone, which had since disappeared somewhere.

"Hi there! So, as you may or may not have memorized, I am Kira Aberdale. Follow me and I'll give you guys a brief tour of some of Tower 89F's features," she said eagerly, gesturing for everyone to follow. Proceeding through the doors, the entourage followed suit, filing into the small hallway space behind her. Walking backwards she kept up her talk. "This is the floor 72 East Wing Dormitory, and the highest residence floor. This floor is dedicated only to dormitories, as is floors 64 through 71. Each houses about 300 hundred students, but given our maintained population of 3000 students, we have about 300 hundred students without their own bed, unfortunately. They usually crash out in any room that their friends will share, and we've managed to procure sleeping bags, pillows, and blankets to ease their discomfort." The hallways they shuffled through were lined with featureless steel doors, many of which possessed some sort of decoration on its face, be it a name, joke, or drawing. The number of names per door shifted between two and four randomly. A few of them were open, revealing their interiors as curious senior students watched as the tour walked by. Kira continued her guidance, going on about the other floors and what they contained; cafeterias, gardens, gyms, fields, parks, and completely empty mechanical floors which supposedly made up the majority of the tower.

Kira stopped the group in a large lounge area with a thick glass window overlooking the open interior of the ship. In the distance, several distinct towers could be made out amidst a mess of miscellaneous structures weaving about. Clapping her hands, she asked the group, "So, do we have any questions? After this you'll be free to go wherever you please. At this time, and only during this night, we have been freed from decibel restrictions, so there will be a lot of partying, games, and mingling. I'm sure you'll be able to find something to do and I encourage you to take advantage of it."

Matthew's patient waiting was interrupted when the girl reacted unfavorably to his greeting. The neutral line of his mouth turned into a frown when he met a wall of mental resistance, followed by a slew of meaningless thoughts and ideas.

She's using static on us, Miguel. he complained to his twin.

Well, that's what you get for not using your words. Miguel replied, as if he were a teacher telling a first-grader to use the point of the pencil for writing, not erasing.

I am using my words. Matthew retorted.

Your voice, Kuya. I'm talking about your voice.

Matthew's face turned to an annoyed pout at the notion of being snubbed by this girl and scolded by his younger brother in the same few minutes. But then the psychic took a second to look at the girl again, and he realized that his voice her head was probably the first time she'd been connected to another mind. As he didn't know how to apologize for such a violation of privacy, Matthew simply swallowed his pride, returned his expression to neutral, and removed his gaze from the girl to face the new world ahead. Before he purged his mind of the idea of communicating with anyone aside from Miguel ever again, the girl appeared by his side.

Matthew would never admit it, but deep down he did feel as if he was missing something whenever he did not experience something with his own eyes. So even though he had already taken in her appearance, the esper examined her one more time with his real brown eyes. She was dressed differently from most girls: she wore suspenders along with her pants, a short-sleeved white dress shirt, and she had an orange river of hair flowing from her head. In the time that he absorbed her appearance again, she had given them her name: Barbara.

Miguel was all too happy to talk to another soul on this crazy train, so he replied to her greeting first.

"I'm Miguel," he replied with a winning smile. "And this is Matthew." he added with a tilt of his head towards his twin. "He doesn't talk much, but I guess you're the one he wanted to greet. He has a thing for lonely people." This last statement was met with a huff and an elbow to the side from Matthew, who did not want Miguel revealing anything further about him.

Then Matthew turned his head and gave a polite nod, his own way of saying "Pleased to meet you, Barbara," along with broadcasting the same statement to her mind so that his body language was clear to her. A shadow of a small smile could even be spotted on his face before his lips straightened out into their default expression once more.

I'm sorry about earlier. First connections are always uncomfortable, and I guess all of the recent developments made me forget that. Are you alright? he asked once more, sincerely concerned about her comfort.

He would have spoken further, but the senior known as Kira Aberdale interrupted his train of thought. Forgetting Barbara for a minute, he listened to the young woman in front of him as she tried to make their entry into the Second Academy as least horrible as possible. He asked Miguel to write both their names down and introduce the two of them both, as well as add that Matthew "is seventeen and likes reading and writing," before letting that task move on to the next person in the crowd.

When the new students were split into groups, Matthew, almost unknowingly, grabbed Barbara's hand to keep her with the duo. Stay close to us. he beckoned, forgetting that most common of social conventions: that one should not suddenly grab another person's hand, especially if that person was a: mostly a stranger, and b: of the opposite sex. But he held on to her, though at least not interlocking their fingers, as he and Miguel followed their guide around the tower. The two of them took in as much detail about the facilities as possible, noting where every room of significant function was as they moved.

When Kira asked if anyone had any questions, Matthew surprised everyone around him and spoke. Miguel even found himself incapable of producing a quip at this occurrence: his antisocial older brother had just spoken his real voice, without even counseling with him about this decision.

This place is already doing weird things to our heads. Miguel thought as he took in the event. Then he amended his previous thought with another one. Well, weirder things to us.

But Matthew had a good reason to speak aloud: he didn't want to reveal his powers to anyone he didn't trust yet, and that list included everyone that wasn't Barbara and Miguel. He stuttered a little when he began; the thought of opening his mouth and not letting lyrics fly out was something he'd almost forgotten, but he quickly regained his composure and asked his questions.

"What sort of behavioral restrictions are there on us, such as curfews or dating? Will all these facilities be constantly open to us? Are we allowed to move across towers? Are there any real classes in this place? Are there any other student organizations or factions in this place? Can we contact our families at all?" Matthew waited for Kira to answer each one before moving on to the next, taking in every answer before he fell silent once more. He still did not realize that he was still holding Barbara's hand.

Do you have any questions, Miguel? the older twin asked.

Hm...nah, I'm good. You asked them all for me. he replied.

Okay, then. Matthew let out a breath as he reacquainted himself with a silent mouth. What about you, Barbara? Did I miss anything you wanted to ask?

"Nice to know they know how to maintain order around here...", Cormac thought with a slight frown.

The scene that lay before him seemed somewhere halfway between an unruly daycare center and what one might expect to see in the chimpanzee pen at the local zoo. It felt almost unreal to him, after such a crushing and oppressive speech about order and discipline to find himself exposed to so much chaos and anarchy. Dozens of unfamiliar visages with expressions ranging from anger or disgust to curiosity, anticipation or apathy. Most importantly, however, he could feel the countless eyes silently (or not so silently, in the case of some of the most exuberant ones) sizing them up, like a predator eyeing a new, potential prey. It was just like his time in juvvie, he noted grimly, only will less discipline and more superpowers. The veteran students around them had all sorts of strange and unusual behaviour, and it almost came as a surprise that none of them were lobbing feces at them or swinging from the ceiling, although there was one particularly enterprising specimen of mediocrity which found it suitable to introduce them to his sphincter. How charming...

Letting himself once again fall into his humorous façade, he began cheerfully greeting them as though he were some sort of movie star arriving at an award show, although he maintained a cold, menacing edge to his demeanor. The message he wanted to come across was very clear: He was not intimidated, and didn't take them particularly seriously. For a second, he considered re-enacting a scene for gladiator (ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!) though he finally decided against it, deciding it might come across as a little too over the top, even for him. Besides, his real aim was to draw attention away from the other newcomers, not to come across as a potential victim. Although he could probably deal with the heckling relatively easily, some of the other members of his group didn't seem nearly as resilient. He would probably pay for his cockiness a bit later, but it was probably better off if it were on him rather than his more vulnerable comrades. Besides, he was fully prepared to taze first person to seek confrontation with him into unconsciousness.

Eventually, the cacophony began to gradually fade into nothingness, and a young woman with an air of confidence about her emerged from the crowd, carrying what appeared to be a very heavily damaged megaphone.

"New students of Tower 89F; welcome!" she yelled, struggling to make up for the megaphone's shortcomings, "Your true orientation towards Second Academy begins tomorrow, but..." she paused, "but we have all been to it, and it is nothing special. It is short, boring, and chastising. I'm sure, having since stepped off the elevator, that you all understand the implications of living here. You don't need to be reminded or further explained, but they'll say it again anyways."

She paused, before continuing with a much more cheerful tone:

"Which is why we of 89F wish to hold a more entertaining orientation for you all; one for the tower itself." She gestured towards the seniority, prompting a genuine, but short-lived cheer. Returning her attention towards them, she continued, "I am Kira Aberdale, and while we don't have any definitive leaders here in 89F, I do supervise a student-run logistics group. If you need any information, help, or somesuch service, come find me or anyone else working with me. That being said, we do organize events like these each year when students arrive. Diplomacy with the staff has allowed us a single day this night to let loose without repercussion. But before we get to go crazy..." she lowered the megaphone and turned behind to seek out in the crowd someone else, who promptly jogged up to her side, a large bundle of papers in hand.

Cormac gave an almost imperceptible sigh. So every day won't be like this...
He wasn't quite sure whether or not he should feel worried or relieved by this, although he supposed he would find out in the coming days.

"We would like to write all of your names down, so we can have a record of you guys in our Tower roster. The Academy has their own record, and usually prevents us from having better information on everyone here, but our good behavior has let us off the hook, so to speak. As soon as we write your name down, we ask you to proceed over into the center of the room here, where we will continue with introductions."

They then proceeded to go through the crowd of newcomers, taking pictures and tallying names.

=+=

"I will read off the names of each new student, and I ask that they raise their hand and repeat it, along with any short information that they'd like to convey to us. We will get to know all of you on an individual basis moreso as time goes on, but for now we'd like to hear from everyone."

They then proceeded with call out the students, which followed with a short introduction of themselves. This is like a twisted mix between college and juvvie..., he pondered with disgust. Neither experiences he had found particularly enjoyable. Finally, his name came up:

"Spartacu-..." The announcer gave an irritated look and crossed the name from the list. There were a few chuckles in the crowd. "Cormac Leclaire."

"Cormac Leclaire." he repeated. "And this is now my favorite spot in the citadel. Also, everyone who knows what I'm talking about just lost the game."

There were a few pained groans in the crowd, as well as a considerable amount of confused looks.

My work here is done... he concluded internally.

=+=

“An honour to meet you both,” came Barbara’s response, and she found herself smiling softly at her further interaction with the two. When Miguel introduced his brother, however, he seemed to shy away as though offended, and her smirk faltered. Had she said something out of line already, done something wrong? Confirmation came when he introduced himself anyway, both with his body and the voice of his mind. This comforted her, as did the slight smile he gave, as though he felt accomplished, but somehow.. longing, at the same time. She brushed aside the quick tremor in her stomach when he spoke again in her head, though her spine straightened somewhat, as though a chill had passed along it.

She took the boy’s apology with grace, subconsciously irradiating comfort in the hopes that he could feel it. The question of whether she was alright or not resurfaced again however, though this time she opened her mouth and her mind to speak. Promptly she was interrupted again, and the senior, Kira, launched into her speech. A stray thought glanced across her mind as she gazed briefly at Matthew’s face, then to the girl.

-we’re similar, with our ghostly smiles.

x/x/x

The second orientation seemed like more of a student gig than a formal occasion, and the multiple mentions of the seniors involvement and the boring ceremony coming tomorrow only confirmed the suspicion. But instead of waylaying any fears she had developed since their arrival, Barbara was beginning to believe that this place was a giant contradiction, instead of some ‘not so bad’ new home.. prison. Thing.

Security was supposed to be tight, predictable, and unyielding, though many of the students seemed unruly and unchecked at the appearance of the ‘new blood’ - the more wild of the lot choosing to either fling insults or show off indecent parts of their body. The façade of the dormitories mimicked steel cages or padded cells, and yet the outer walls were sprawled with semi-humorous graffiti and offensive quips. The students were allowed to drink, party, sleepover and generally misbehave, and most nights could stay up as late as their hearts contented. The general seemed to have an air of limitless authority about her upon their meeting, one that demanded constant obedience, but behind the scenes seemed to show lenience towards most offers put to her and her guards. If they were not lenient, they certainly wouldn’t have allowed the student body to have nights devoid of the usual consequences or restrictions, which felt like an all too occasional thing for a prison.

Babs habitually jumped as her string of thoughts was interrupted, the fright coming unexpectedly as something latched onto her hand, though instead of dragging her backwards or down to the floor like her nerves had expected, it simply stayed casually where it was, Matthew’s touch cool against her skin. Instead of reeling back she felt strangely calm, sparing any thought as to how the two would look to outsiders. Somehow, it wasn’t quite as off putting as having a stranger probe your mind, and she even felt safer having the physical connection there, as though it were more acceptable than the mental one.

I.. don’t think anyone’s ever held my hand before, she internalised. And they hadn’t. Not this way.

At the call of her name she responded curtly, though not particularly confidently, and weaved her way to the front of the pack, severing her connection to Matthew both ways in order to concentrate at the task at hand, as though it required effort. By the time she had reached the young man with the list she still had her arm bent crookedly above her head, having used it to signal her position in the mob as she approached. She had lost her voice by then, though, and she stopped on the spot in front of him, mind blank, before eventually being ushered away when she failed to come up with something to say. With the picture taken immediately afterwards, she was left in a strangely void state, the coming and goings thus far seeming to have flashed by too instantaneously for her to properly notice. Tucking her free arm into the confines of her pants pocket, she was surprised when Matthew again returned to his place by her side, her hand in his.

This time she was subconsciously ready for it, despite not knowing that he would return. In fact she half expected him to have left her by the time she got back, never to be seen again.

As Kira brought them all up to speed on the operations of the academy, they soon entered the Q+A section of their introduction. It struck her that she had missed most of the walking tour, as relatively brief as it was. She rubbed a hand over her eyes, gaze downcast. Looks like I missed that too, she thought glumly. It was suffocating, here, or starting to be, and she would be glad when it was over and she could finally sleep.. But that meant disconnecting from Matthew, and for some reason she didn’t really want to be apart from him.

He surprised her when he not only spoke, but asked question after question about their new residence. When he mentioned dating her grip tightened, and she shot a nervous look about the group before her gaze settled back on Kira, where it waited for a response.

What about you, Barbara? Did I miss anything you wanted to ask?

She wasn’t used to thinking-speaking just yet, and instead worded her response. It was simply put, as her mind continued to struggle. She suppressed a tired sigh.

“I think you covered everything."

Eva had been very nervous when being looked at by all these people, but then she heard Desmond say:"Stick close to me. Yeah? We won't survive on our own. And especially not if we look weak." She got a bit calmer after that and decided to follow his advice since she noticed she was already younger than a lot of the others. Suddenly she heard a bit of ruckus in the front and a lot of the students got quiet. She saw a girl with a megaphone approaching and guessed she was some sort of leader in this tower. Listening to her speech she knew for certain that she was the leader figure in this tower. She made living here sound a little less bad than she thought a moment ago and made it sound like this tower was actually better than the others. Eva didn't know if this was true or not, but she hoped that she was lucky enough for it to be true.

They proceeded to let them write down their name and take pictures of them. When they arrived at Eva they asked if she could remove her mask for the picture, but Eva refused saying she couldn't take it off for personal reasons. When they called her name she raised her hand and replied as firmly as she could. "Eva Ashton, I'm 13 and I like reading books." She guessed this was good enough and lowered her hand again. When the last person had done this random stuff landed in the crowd and a long strand of toilet paper actually landed on Eva's head. "Ew" She quickly pulled it off her head, she didn't get why they would do something like this.

Eva was happy when they got to go on the tour because then they wouldn't be surrounded by the older students anymore. She made sure to stay near Desmond though and ended up in Kira Aberdale's group. She tried to memorize where everything was when she said it, but knew that she would forget some of the locations by tomorrow. She was surprised when she heard that most of the tower was just empty floors. Though those places would probably be very quiet and maybe she could even go there if she wanted to be alone for a bit. When they stopped she heard they could ask some questions before being free. Eva had some so she decided that she could ask at least one. She didn't even get a chance before one student asked a dozen questions at a time. Having no questions left she looked at Desmond and asked:"So do you have any questions left?"

Kirill's response to March's question was basically to take off. After giving an apology followed by gestures from his arsenal of weird mannerisms, Kirill suddenly backed off and vanished into the crowd of students. March simply gave a blank expression.So they can be as weird as they look...

XXX

Kira's orientation was indeed brief and revealed how somewhat shoddy Second Academy was. The place hardly had enough rooms for all the students. It somewhat dampened March's earlier impression of the place. It seemed like Second Academy couldn't decide between an highly advanced super prison or a boarding academy that was a tad bit crammed.

Kira then begun the introductions and the Q&A simultaneously. Most of the introductions and questions were quite normal. Sure, there were quirky ones here and there, such as Cormac but they generally felt like the same ones March would see in a normal school. Minus the distinct age gap since some of the people in the room were barely teenagers. Then finally came that one guy who always asks a list of questions at one go. March gave a soft whistle as he heard the guy bombard Kira.

Asian-ish looking, probably mixed. March took note of the guy cause of a gut feeling they might be acquainted in future. The near future.

Finally it came to March's turn to introduce himself.

"I'm March. I think I'm pretty normal. If theres anything anyone wants to know about me, then you can find out yourself by asking." March then took a couple of steps forward before continuing, "As for questions... I think there's one everyone wants to know but has yet to ask. How does the academy exactly deal with troublemakers? How do you deal with troublemakers." March made sure to emphasize on the 'you'.

He then used his powers.

"Stuff like this?" asked March as he relocated her megaphone into his right hand only to have relocated back into hers seconds later. Man, he was finally getting to do something fun.

Desmond was very confused when Kira came out, she acted as though the "academy" wasn't a prison, like it was some sort of summer camp. He couldn't imagine that it was always so cheerful and lighthearted, but that didn't change how he felt. He was still angry and wanted to kill the woman that was in charge, he groaned at the thought of having to give some sort of personal trivia when his name was called, the only thing on his mind was violent things, things that wouldn't really be appropriate for the current mood of the room.

When the kid with the camera came around he felt himself watch the kid as he approached Eva, ready to defend her if the kid tried to pull any tricks. Lucky nothing happened and the kid moved onto him. He just gave him a stern look as the camera snapped his picture. Some kid, Cormac was his name, made a reference he didn't understand before Desmond's name was called. He raised his hand and spoke "I'm Desmond Freeman. And I don't have anything else to say."

When the group was taken around for the tour he stuck with Eva and looked around at the tower. He was starting to feel a bit more lax and comfortable with the place, but he could still feel his own anxiety and fear, as though the current calmness of the facility was a tenuous state and almost anything could change it. When the girl stopped and asked for any last minute questions he raised his hand. "What's security like around here? Roaming guards and hidden cameras or what? Also how are dorms assigned?" He would prefer to have his own room, or perhaps only one roommate depending on who it was, though he'd refer Eva wince he wouldn't have to hide Teeth in any way.

Shane had been slowly getting more and more freaked out as the entire afternoon had progressed. He physically flinched at the crowd's scene, and he was surprised when it parted to let a girl through. It turned out that she was the figurehead of the student government at the school.

The girls cheesy camp counselor attitude did wonders for his condfidence. Her reference to the relationship between the two governments hinted at some of the fundamental structure of this society, though references to certain restrictions ticked the negativity of the bureaucracy of the school up a few points. It further deteriorated with the revelation that the school would purposely hobble any student led government, though the equal and opposite counterargument of an unregulated student government presented itself immediately.

He stood still and smiled for his picture, however, he felt emberassed when the questions he had for them died on his lips. He started moving towards the middle of the room to get assigned with a group, and moved towards where the rest of "his" group was.

During their interaction with the tour, he noted several things that were interesting. The theme of disbalance was constant. Ever since they had come here, the situation had ping-ponged between two extremes, the spectre of some kind of military dystopia and the cheerful facade of what amounted to a long term boarding school. During their arrival, the beats between the different faces were perfectly timed. Get the PR wagon to please the recruits, hit them with something horrible. Give them time to recoup and network, then start the next cycle. A welcoming commitee of cyberwardens and machine guns, set on a backdrop of some kind of chrome sky city, that stages a terrifying scene of disorder and hoolaganism before dropping that with the introduction of this girl. Hold them on ice with bureaucracy and an infodump while stress builds up, before opening up with more socialization and recouping. Corallory: the student government doesn't know the play they're taking part in. Projecting forward, the judicious application of logorythmic cycles suggests that the reintroduction of the groups into the mileau would succesfully unbalance them. Most likely, the good cop and socialization would be combined. He noticed that he had started making assumptions again, and didn't expend the willpower required to scold himself.

He had at least half a dozen questions in addition to the ones already asked.

"Where do you recomend we go, and is there a map of the tower that's available?"

"What is the medical situation, and what is the state of sexual health care here, such as condoms, and birth control? They can't just ignore several thousand teenager's hormones."

"What are those buildings over there?"

"How could we transfer to other towers, and if it's easy enough, what are the situations in them like? Is this tower typical, or is it weighted towards the "good" kids? I've noticed that during the elevator ride, most people seemed pretty good."

"What is the availability of the mechanical floors, could we repurposed them for our own uses? If so, why doesn't anyone sleep there?"

"Where do we get stuff?"

"Also, most importantly, what should we absolutely not do, what should we avoid, and what tips and tricks do you have for surviving the first week?"

As the questions flew like ninja stars towards her person, Kira busied herself with trying to replace a part of her megaphone aimlessly, not quite sure how the thing worked herself it seemed. The new students in her tour group spat out their concerns one after another, and she realized quite quickly that she had forgotten to ask for raised hands. In any case, she tried her best to memorize the questions as best she could, summarizing them in her head and throwing out the retention of ones that had been repeated. For the most part, they were what she expected, as well as what she had answered in prior tours plenty of times. But as the fervor died down, she had further wished she produced name tags for everyone. It seemed slightly shameful to have forgone solidifying their identities given her position, unofficial as it was.

Kira slightly jumped at the sudden disappearance of her megaphone in the midst of the questions, and immediately noted who had done it. Regardless of how expediently it was returned to her hand, it was clear the boy wasn't one of subtlety or self-restraint. Kira gave a faint leer towards Kirill, but washed it away with the procession of neutral answers.

She went in order.

"Behavioral restrictions are numerous, but to name a few especially pertinent ones," Kira took a breath, "All students are to remain in their rooms after the hour of nine p.m., usage of any powers upon unwilling individuals is strictly prohibited, and using them on any sort of facility machinery or structures is prohibited. Using powers in the direct presence of guards, living or mechanical, is grounds for punishment. As for dating, feel free. It's better to have happier individuals anyways. Just..." she paused, "make good decisions, please," Kira said cryptically. A few giggles whispered in the crowd. "Cafeteria facilities are open only during specific hours which change day to day. You can find the schedule printed on some flyers around the tower. Movement between towers is prohibited and actively prevented by numerous systems."

Kira smiled and sighed at Matthew's next question. "Classes? Well sort of. If you mean with teachers and stuff? No. There are class rooms which open up every day, and you are expected to attend, even if there are no individuals there to monitor. Not living at least. They come with sub-par computers and programs pre-loaded onto them to guide you through different subjects. Here, you're self-taught. Don't think otherwise though; you will need to do well on inevitable tests if you don't want to be punished." She continued, "Besides the 'unofficial' logistics group, Tower 89F doesn't have any particularly notable organizations present. I hear it's different in other towers." A stern look overcame her face as she finished with Matthew's series, and she crossed her arms. "We cannot contact our families. We don't know exactly how this silence is pulled off in terms of placating our families, but we assume many strings are being pulled to achieve it."

"As for you" Kira stated fiercely, turning to Kirill, "dealing with troublemakers is a formless thing. As we are not allowed to use powers on each other, or physical violence for that matter, it is difficult to deal with students who don't wish to live in harmony with the others. We have less than favorable means to do so, if we so desire. However what you have just done is not troublemaking, but simple impishness," Kira spat. She moved on.

"Security is nearly omniscient, even if you don't think you're being watched 24/7. All rooms possess some sort of camera or detection device. Sometimes they're completely hidden. Guards patrol the tower regularly, and you'd be wise to simply keep out of their way, even moreso the robotic ones," she turned her head to the next individual as she finished with Desmond, "You'll simply have to find open dorms on your own time."

"I can't exactly tell you where you're supposed to go. You're free to do what you wish after this, but I'd recommend securing a room ASAP. There are maps on the halls all over the place. They'll detail all floor plans of the tower save for mechanical floors. If you want medical attention, either you yourself or with the help of a friend, can make your way to floor 12 where the medical bay is located. Don't expect any friendly faces often. Sometimes Miss Kim will be there, but more often than not it'll be robots that do the bloodwork. Sexual health care..." Kira cleared her throat, "is there. You can pick up the amenities, but you'll need to file some papers to the med bay before they hand them out." Kira turned her head to the window Shane had gestured towards and responded, "Those are just the other towers. You can only get to them either by shuttles, or being a badass and flying to them somehow. You'd have to dodge an army of turrets and drones on the way though," she laughed and shrugged. "I don't actually know much detail about the happenings in other towers. Sometimes we'll get little snippets of rumors from the guards talking about their events, but that's about it. We had a student with supernatural eyesight a few years back who could see the students in the other towers through the window. I think they miraculously managed to communicate," Kira's eyes trailed upwards, as if lost in thought or nostalgia.

"As far as I know, this tower is filled with more well-behaved individuals-" her voice suddenly turned chastising and fierce, "and don't go screwing that up for us!" Clearly though, it was all in good humor as her expression relieved to one of smiles. "The mechanical floors are off-limits, and though we don't know if it has as much monitoring, students have gotten hurt pretty badly down there by various things, guards included. Stuff?" she asked rhetorically, not quite sure what Shane meant, "Um, I suppose food and drink in the cafeteria and other miscellaneous items in the cargo depot. Shuttles bring in crate-loads of various items, and if you're fast or persistent enough you can crack one open and take its contents before anyone else. They come irregularly, so the students don't get too crowded when they come around. Otherwise you can procure various items from other students. We don't have a currency, but you can trade things you do have."

Kira answered the last question sternly and without pause or thought, as if it were common knowledge. The way she stated it certainly reinforced that the new students should see it as such and take it to heart.

"Absolutely, positively, do not, under any circumstances, fight back against guards. If you do..." she paused and looked over the students once more, "it was nice knowing you." Kira was about to clap her hands when someone rose their hand from amidst the audience. A muscled, brick-like arm fell from it and attached to an equally indestructible body. The large student from before, still wearing his bandanna as a mask, was its owner.

"What is it exactly that they do to us? Punishment I mean," he asked, clear concern in his voice. Kira hesitated, but seemed to almost lose the will to lie or withhold and answer, as if it were their right to know. And while it was, she desired more than anything else to keep the night as positive as possible. Better now than out of the blue, she figured. Kira sighed again and answered grimly.

"All we know is that most students who physically retaliate against a guard, defensively or otherwise, don't often return to the tower. We don't know where they go, but presumably it isn't anywhere better than here. Or anywhere at all," Kira tapered off into a whisper. Clapping her hands, she shocked the dulled atmosphere with some light, and returned to her once attentive visage. "So! Any other questions before I let you all go free?"

Those that did not had begun to shuffle away or turn their attention to one another, once again revealing the small cliques that had formed so instantly.

Shane was very displeased with most of the information presented to them. His plan to use the bureaucracies attitude towards something as awkward as sex ed had turned out to be somewhat redundant, considering... everything, but some of how the tower worked was good information. He wondered if he would be able to sell animated tattoos.

Bandanna had an interesting reaction to Kira's revelation about troublemakers. From his uncertainty it seemed that he fit in more than it would seem, if his theory that this was a good tower was right. He looked at the rest of his group. Trying to judge their reactions, he debated wither to put forward the idea to include the bandanna guy in their group.

"So what does everyone do? I can basically make living drawings." Uncomfortable with being the center of attention, he decided to go with a safe topic.