MAKO REED

Mason was dropped off late by his trainer, Nix, in an old, tattered Honda. Staring out the window, Mako noticed the hoard of controversial-looking teens stood by the roadside - waiting for the next bus no doubt - and urged his trainer to drop him off there instead. I short nod was exchanged between the two, no more, no less, and as the door closed behind Mako has he lurched his bulk through the door, many expectant eyes stopped to look. It wasn't so much the sound of the car that drew their attention, but more the constant under-the-breath swears and clumsy movements of Mako that seemed to be causing a scene.

"Fuck this bastard bag." Mako barked in a thick Yorkshire accent, dragging an old gym bag with his academy's logo on the sides. Strapped to it were a pair of boxing gloves, and on top of that, Mako wore an equally raggedy old rucksack. He dragged it up to the group, who had fell silent apart from the odd conversation still going strong. Girls with snake heads, emo hair, dungarees. This must be the bunch, and Mako couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious - all he was wearing was a hoodie, a pair of red Adidas Gazelle's, and his 'going out' tracksuit bottoms. His hair drooped down, the curls in the ends whipping around in all different directions, and he had forgotten to shave his stubble beard.

"I don't mean to to be shit at first impressions..." Mako began, pulling out a rolled-up cigarette and sticking it in his big-toothed smile, of which a bumpy, broken nose hung over "But has anyone got a lighter I can borrow?"

---

"It's nice to meet you too Mason.", Erica replied. She was a warm individual, that was for sure. The way she spoke was both enticing and welcoming, and Mason soon found himself beginning to feel comfortable. "I um, can't seem to place your accent. Where are you from?" she asked.

Mason chuckled. "Originally, I'm from London." he said, scratching the back of his head. "But my dad's German so I spent a lot of time there growing up." He paused for a length that was but a millisecond too long to be comfortable, and averted his gaze to break eye contact with Erica. "Even moreso in recent years, actually..." he trailed off, lamenting his situation. It was fine. It'd been fine when he moved there and it was fine now. It was fine. He was fine.

One of the more introverted members of the group spoke up and pointed towards one of the other readers. "That one wishes you wouldn't smoke," he said before having some kind of socially anxious meltdown and hiding behind his novel. Mason didn't know what the boy was talking about, but it seemed to have got other people thinking. He ignored the comment about the student who apparently disapproved of him smoking; he had little regard for what other people thought of him. Rather, as Greg introduced himself, his eyes were drawn to the book in the boy's hands.

There was a picture of a beetle across the front cover, and Mason recognised it as Kafka's The Metamorphosis. He actually had an original copy from the 20th century stashed amidst the other tomes in his baggage, albeit in the original tongue and under the title Die Verwandlung. "That's a great book, Greg," Mason said. He was about to offer to lend the boy his copy, as he felt Greg would likely appreciate seeing the original print. But the second he made eye contact with the shy boy, he was overcome with nausea. He immediately broke his gaze and concentrated on the woods, trying not be visibly effected. The feeling soon faded, but Mason grew weary of Greg. Had he done that..?

Other people began to introduce themselves, and fortunately for Mason he was great with names. The shy, emo-looking kid was called Casper, and the delivery of his introduction reinforced Mason's assumption that the boy had some self-esteem issues. It kind of made Mason want to approach him, and let him know that things would change as he got older; the way they had done for him. He saw a lot of himself in the kid... But now wasn't the time.

The black-eyed boy was named Devin. Mason assumed he was blind, as he'd been staring into the same spot for most of their time here. The other guy who had just arrived and helped kickstart the conversation was named Kane, 'with a K and an E'. Mason liked the Kane's assertiveness, but the guy was giving him a really dirty look that suggested Kane was not feeling the same way. He and Devin began speaking amongst each other in French. It was strange, however; Mason was a pretty adept French speaker, but he could only pick up traces of the conversation. They must have been speaking in some kind of territorial variation; perhaps Quebecois. Regardless, he left them to it.

The girl who had lit Mason's cigarette was called Lynn, and she cracked a joke about AA meetings that made Mason smile wryly. Maybe he got the wrong impression of this girl, she was pretty funny. It was too early to assume they'd be best friends, but Mason definitely made a note to try and understand her a bit more. The fey boy whom had apparently taken umbrage with Mason's spoking identified himself as Abbey, though specified that Chess was preferred. Abbey Chessar; Actor! Debater! Entertainer! Mason mocked in his mind. He made a mental note to call this individual Abbey at every given opportunity. He smirked absent-mindedly, before his attention was caught by yet another, rather loud arrival. He turned to see a tall, broad guy with angular features and a shaggy mane of blond hair struggling with an unforgivingly burdensome bag, which he swore at profusely. Wait, that accent! Mason noted to himself. This guy was a Yorkshireman. Mason's mother had family in Leeds and he could spot the accent a mile off.

The guy apologetically asked for a lighter, and Mason smirked at the irony of the situation as he shot Abbey a deliberate glance, one eyebrow raised in an exaggerated fashion. Before anyone had time to comment, the sound of an engine and broke the tranquil serenity of the woodland as the unmistakable rattle of tires on gravel road drew nearer. A large, black bus with black-out windows drew around the corner from deeper in the woodland, "PORTWOOD INSITUTE FOR TALENTED YOUTH" emblazoned along its sides.

Mason chucked with and shot the new arrival a sympathetic look. "I don't think you'll have time for any of that, mate." he said, laughing as the bus came to a stop beside them. It was simply massive; bigger than any bus Mason had seen, even those tourbuses that famous musicians travel the world in. Several members of uniformed staff slipped out of the vehicle and welcomed passengers onboard as they helped stash their belongings in the baggage compartment.

Mason's mouth dropped silently as he boarded the vehicle. "Well, this is nice..." he said casually, taking in the sheer luxury of the coach. Rather than a traditional "rows of two" seating plan, the interior of the bus was entirely open-plan, save for a separate driver's cabin. It was carpeted in a rich deep red, which was mirrored in the red-and-gold decor of the room, with large and highly comfortable armchairs and sofas lining the room. At the rear of the bus was a large television screen, which ran a continuous slideshow of the school on loop, showing some of the various locations and facilities it had to offer.

Mason took a seat, watching the slideshow absent-mindedly. He didn't engage in much conversation for the bus journey, as the windows were so dark he couldn't see outside, which made him feel nauseous. Perhaps his incident with Greg earlier had not helped matters... He contributed sparsely and where relevant, but mostly he just listened to any conversation that was taking place, or in moments of silence enjoyed the calm orchestral music that played quietly in the background.

---

---

Mason sat in the large assembly hall. The seats were made of fine wood and bound in plush red velvet, matching the elegant crimson drapes that hung strikingly in the mahogany room. The bus journey had been terrible, with Mason feeling sick most of the way. There had also been not one, not two, but three security stops; points at which armed guards checked the vehicle routinely to ensure everything was in order. Despite Mason's protests, he was allowed to leave the bus for air at none of these intervals, and the whole ordeal had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The low mumble of the room dimmed to silence as a man took to the stage. He was of an average height, with quite a portly build, with light grey hair neatly adorning his head and upper lip. He wore an expensive-looking suit with a tie that matched the room's scarlet decor, but his expression was one of warmth and welcome. He stood at a podium, smiling, and opened his arms to the audience.

"Welcome, one and all, to the Portwood Institute for Talented Youth!" he bellowed, his voice filling the room with the aid of a speaker system. "I am Professor Alan Portwood. I founded this school thirty years ago, and for much of that time we have been at the forefront of mutant education. It is no secret that, for a time, we were forced to close our doors..." he said, pausing for effect more than anything. "But thanks to President Goode, and all the efforts of PEACE, we are back in action and more prepared than ever before to bring you the pinnacle of academic excellence!" he said, raising his voice like some sort of ringmaster. Several of the staff members clapped and cheered, which sparked a reaction throughout the rest of the hall. The man was certainly charismatic.

He spoke some more about the history of the school and what was expected of students during their time at PITY; rules, routines, classes... That kind of thing. It was awfully patronising for Mason, who felt that at 19 years old he had left school behind forever. But, he began to pay closer attention as the assembly seemed to draw to an end. "As you leave, dormitory arrangements will be available at the reception, where the wonderful Miss Rodgers will present you with your keys and welcome pack. After you've made yourselves at home, lunch will be provided in the cafeteria." he said. "For now, I'd like to thank you for travelling such great distances to join us here at PITY. It is my pleasure to welcome a group of such talented young people through our doors."

With that, the assembly was over. Mason had sat near the back of the hall, and so he managed to get back out into the reception before most of the others and was one of the first at the reception desk. He was both excited and anxious to find out who his new roommate would be. Would it be one of the people he took the bus with? Or someone completely different? Would they be clean? He hoped so. How old were they? Did they like the same things he did? He hoped they at least shared some common ground. Before he could give it any more thought, a ditzy blonde woman attracted his attention.

"Mason Crawford!" she announced, smiling girlishly at him. How the fuck does she know my name? he thought to himself. "If I remember correctly, your student number is 23009224. Which would put you in room 139..." she said, pouring through a ridiculously large folder before withdrawing a file. There, at the front of the file, was Mason's application, his photograph emblazoned in the top corner. She didn't even have the file on hand... he thought to himself in amazement. "Yep!" she announced casually. "You're in 139. You'll be sharing with Zachariah Bale. Have a nice day, Mason!" she said, before turning her attention to the next student and addressing them by name.

Mason nodded, overwhelmed with confusion, and walked away from the desk. The reality of having a roommate dawned on him as he started on the journey in search of his room, the key tight between his fingers. There were certain things that would be very difficult to keep secret with someone living under his nose.

In all her life, Jinkee had never gone through this much waiting and standing and napping and waiting and stopping and waiting- why was there so much waiting? Contrary to the popular stereotype of filipinos always being late, the curly haired teen made sure to be early, her mother and sister having driven up to New York a few days before. They took a few pictures in the city and Jinkee made well use of the free breakfasts the hotel offered every day- honestly she was really grateful at the extent to which they tried to make the transition easier. More laughing, less wallowing... perhaps it was that though, that truly made it hard. Jinkee didn't cry when she left the beige Odyssey her mom drove- she couldn't risk it, going out of control barely her first day in the school- but her sister cried for her and that was sweet.

It was then that the waiting began. There were only two other individuals on the bus stop she'd been sent to wait in, both of whom absorbed themselves in one another- siblings or friends, perhaps?- and though Jinkee tried her absolute best to be sweet and inclusive, found herself getting only a word or two in before the bus came and they chose to sit far, far, away from them. If there was one thing that Jinkee could appreciate about the school, it was that most of its facilities thus far were very nice to the eye. Looking over everything and touching the details on a pattern or observing how fucking lonely she was made her less lonely and allowed her time to practice her breathing and tried not to be nervous.

Honestly, though, she could've done without the stops- the longer the waiting had gone, the more nervous she got about getting in. Why were there so many stops anyways?

Eventually, she found herself seated at a near empty hall, littered here and there with students- some of which were seated together, a few on their own, and one who was asleep. Taking a spot near the end- sitting up close wouldn't have given her much of a view- Jinkee's waiting game continued as she played with the kinks in her hair and twiddled her thumbs. She must've fallen asleep or in a haze of some sort because by the time blinked her eyes there were much more people than before and she was steaming- oh wait no, that was the armrest. Oops. Let's just... get up and pretend that never happened, she reasoned as she tried to nonchalantly move with the incoming crowd, her new seat landing her even further back.

The good news was that the waiting was over. The bad news? A speech. She tried her best to not fall asleep, and she did rather well, her attention focusing in and out of the man on the stage, bright green eyes searching the hall for familiar faces (which would be tough given she barely remembered the kids from middle school). Just as she was scrunching up her nose and trying to wonder if one of the figures she was looking at had moving hair or if she had some sort of... animal maybe?... on her head, the speech was over and people were getting up and woah, she should probably get up too- "Excuse me, sorry, sorry-"

Jinkee saw students gather at an area and deduced she should head there too, ducking under arms and dodging legs as she tried to weave past the crowd. If there was something she was good at, it was using her small size to sneak past crowds and be first in line. Well, not so good it seems, as she found herself accidentally knocking into a person, falling back at the rebound, her hand instantly getting stepped on the moment she tried to push herself up. Her "Shit!" was censored by the crowd and a chipper woman's voice, addressing a student by name.

He had been told that he was going to get to the academy by bus, but this was quite a surprise. Could they afford such a luxury ride? Perhaps this school, PITY, was more well off than they let on. Well, it was supposed to be prestigious school after all, wasn't it? Casper quickly found home next to a window and dove back into his game, his headphones playing various kinds of music on a moderate volume. It was quite hard to place the boy's tastes as they varied drastically depending on mood. When he was sad or low, he'd listen to something aching to that emotion while happier more action packed songs would accompany his more upbeat stages.

His bag, together with everyone else's, was thrown into the bottom of the bus. Casper could never be considered a very material person but he was always plastered to his music player and game console. One could say that they were the two items he actually cared about. His clothes which were all packed into the bag were rather plain and simple. He didn't only wear 'emo' inspired outfits. He also wore typical t-shirts and sometimes tried to be more colourful with various brightly coloured bracelets. Sometimes he wore a knitted hat to keep his hair of his eyes and his personality was a lot more colourful than his shy demeanour would let on.

A full hour passed and the boy didn't interact with anyone else. Perhaps it was a good idea to have done so but he chose the easier path. He would probably be paired up with someone in a room either way so it could wait. After the bus stopped, something that came after three whole bumps by armed security, the group could finally get off. Finally, it was getting really tight in there. One would think that being on a luxury ride didn't get old but when you're all by yourself, surrounded by other people you don't know, it feels less comfortable. Who was he to complain, though. One guy actually looked blind. He was probably less comfortable. Imagine being packed together within bunch of strangers you can't even see.

Upon stepping into the assembly hall, Casper noticed how the group's bags had been taken to their respective rooms. Well, that was one thing to keep his mind off of. Quite the service, he had to admit. The finally dressed man addressing the assembly would however put a damper on the experience. He was rather boring, honestly. Everything he went through was one promise after the other and the only thing Casper cared about was getting his incredibly annoying power in check. It was getting in the way all the time and it was only a matter of time before he'd accidentally hurt someone. Professor Alan Portwood, he wasn't so bad. He was just a tad dry. After you've heard one principle telling you why their school is so excellent, you've heard them all.

This man was the end of this scene. The assembly moved out and towards the reception area where they would be given their room numbers and roommates. A woman stood behind a desk and turned to the young man currently standing there. She had some documents ready and handy for when she spoke. "Mason Crawford!" She exclaimed, peeking out into the group of people sitting below the stage. She seemed a bit lost, honestly.

'Mason...was that the guy with the same and the dungarees?' Casper examined the young man further and that was indeed him.

"You're in 139, and lucky you! You get the whole room to yourself. Have a nice day, Mason!" The woman continued. Oh, people could actually be put in a room by themselves? That sounded a lot safer than the alternative but was it the best outcome? Probably not. Casper knew that he needed to work on his social skills and being able to deal with a roommate was essential. His life had been very hard to lead due to his social anxiety and if he wanted to put a lid on it, he would have to give others a chance. It was something he had put off for a very long time. "Next!" She continued as Casper stepped up. "Ah, Casper."

"Yeah..." The boy responded.

"Room 138: Casper Vaile and Celso Olivero!" That settled it, then. Casper had a roommate. He couldn't remember anyone by that name, maybe he arrived at another time.

Casper reached his hand forth and got handed a key before he was allowed to continue down the various corridors in search of his room. So this was it, the start of the year. With a deep sigh, Casper placed his hand on his stomach and breathed out. 'Everything is going to go well...no need to freak out. I'm here because I'm need to stop being a danger...' Casper would find himself repeating those words quite often, but they did in fact help him through this. If he ever accidentally hurt anyone, he would have a very difficult time forgiving himself, not to the mention the legal complications which would follow. This was where he needed to be and he would make the best of it. He would at the very least try...

Lynn was not claustrophobic, but she certainly wasn't a fan of bus rides. She was even less a fan of bus rides with blacked out windows (this set off a large number of red flags in the girl's head-she'd heard about the cartels down doing this kind of tactic. Blacked out windows. You step out the bus and right into a six foot hole in the Mojave), and even more rattled by the security guards. Christ, this...this wasn't right. Lynn didn't get panic attacks, she wasn't that type. She'd sit upright in her bed for hours afterwards, staring at a wall until sleep found her, but this was different. This kind of security? Well, shit, she'd imagined a handful of security guards, like her high school had, but this was something else entirely. This was something else. Three stops. Lynn reacted calmly, not looking the guards in the eyes and keeping her hands on the table. She knew the drill, and knew which one of the kids was getting looked over the most by the fuzz. Surreptitiously, she eyed the inside of the bus (A bus, Lynn thought bitterly, that could've paid for a year's rent and food) for cameras. These guys were good-Lynn couldn't spot them. Can't see where they were going, armed guards...these guys meant business. They had the slideshow, the razzle-dazzle, the bread and circuses to throw off the others, but Lynn wasn't taking the bait.

After the third stop, as the bus began rolling on ahead, she let out a deep laugh, the sort of unrestrained, maniacal guffaw that usually accompanies psychotic breaks.

The irony. She'd taken this school to get out of juvy and instead walked into the most gilded cage on Earth. Lynn baby you sure do konw how to pick 'em don't you. Explains why the parole officer was so hell-bent on getting you in here. Well, this certainly complicated leaving. Lynn hadn't planned on cutting and running immediately, but...well, it seemed an inevitability. It was going to be much, much more difficult if she had to. As a rule of thumb, Lynn enjoyed escape routes, backups, an ace in the hole to play when shit hit the proverbial fan.

Sure, it had nicer furniture, but they'd just walked into one hell of a trap house by Lynn's reckoning. She was going to play it real cool. No shame in admitting when you're outgunned. She wouldn't take anything lying down-that wasn't her style-but this place wasn't screwing around. Lynn quietly decided to be very, very careful about which battles she picked. If she had to serve a few detentions for street scuffles, so be it. She wanted the students, the pompous prick giving the opening address, and most importantly, the uniforms with shotguns to know Cordelia Lynn Holmes was not easy prey.

This mentality wasn't the needless cynicism of a rebel without a cause-while Lynn had elements of that, it was something more. It was...survival, almost. There was a lot more at stake here for her than these other kids. Snakes buys her ticket, so be it, she heads back home to daddy's trust fund and spends the rest of her life fine. Casper probably marries a librarian and spends the rest of his life reading or whatever. She looked at the others and saw different choices. That was it. Choice. These fuckers had that. But her? Christ, no matter what she did she kept falling back into one cage or another. More beds with little girls without families and more armed guards with guns without hesitation. Fuck. Christ. She couldn't break out. She couldn't get out. She was stuck in a loop. No matter what I do I'm going to be trapped.

Lynn smiled and took a long drink of the glass of water on the table before her. So be it, then.

She got up and followed the group as they went along the exodus to get room assignments. This...this was a definite perk. Lynn wasn't one to be bought-if you had the money to bribe Lynn with something, she was probably going to refuse you just on general principle-but...well, it had been...it had been a while since Lynn had a room. This would be nice, even if-

Lynn took a deep breath. She was pretty sure that chick was Snakes. Which was whatever. You know, optimism. That was what the juvy therapist emphasized. Let's look at the positivies. I probably won't have to share shampoo with anyone. And there won't be a problem with adjusting the A/C or anything. She stood staring at her card (give me a fucking number, Jesus Christ, I came here to avoid this) and desperately trying to find other upsides to this situation. Fine. Roll with the punches. They want to try and dance with the devil, they'd better expect to get burned. Feeling an almost phantom pain over her shoulderblades from the absence of her backpack, Lynn went on to her room, looking over the halls in equal parts awe and revulsion. Lynn heard a quote one time, some French guy whose name never stuck with her, something about people being guilty of all the good they didn't do. Well Lynn never claimed a soul white as snow but damn if she was a few shades lighter than the people who had money to burn like this and didn't. Nevermind the circumstances, nevermind the endgame. Lynn didn't have time for that. She went into her room and quickly went through her belongings to ensure everything was still there. Good. Very good. She'd expected them to confiscate the majority of it just 'cause, so that was a pleasant surprise.

She was about to put her stuff down but paused. That...that was not how this worked was it. That was the old way. Staking your territory and then defending it. Yes. That's what she wanted to do, that's what she knew how to do. But this was not that. So, Lynn picked her duffel bag up, slinging it over her shoulder, grasping the backpack with the other. Then whenever Snakes got her seven-figure ass over there she'd figure out who wanted what bed and then they'd hold hands and sing kumbayah.

"Dear God," Lynn muttered to herself, rubbing her face with her hands, tracing her scar as she sometimes did, "Throw me a bone here, man."

The bus journey was long, but Mako had a good sense of discipline and patience when it came to waiting. Mostly, he would just stare out the window, his music providing a mere soundtrack to whatever zoomed past his way, rather than blowing out his ears with decibels. Occasionally, he would turn to laugh at a joke he had heard in the background, the joker smiling as they realised he appreciated the effort they were putting in to relieve some tension from the situation. After all, there was no doubt in Mako's mind that everyone was anxious to get to the place.

Mako didn't pay much attention in the assembly, and was severely underwhelmed by the general arrival. Now, people were being herded into their assigned rooms. He waited in the queue for his name to be called out, and sure enough it came, with a few confused faces looking around at the odd name.

"Mako... like the shark?" he imagined someone would pop up and say at some point, preparing himself mentally for the facepalm he would inflict upon himself at the time.

He took his key and nodded in thanks, completely ignoring his roommate and not even catching his name in the process. Mako didn't exactly feel at home, though he knew everyone was in the same boat. He glanced at the key in his hands and read the room number for only a second, before deciding on a direction to head, and doing so with haste. As much as he wanted to chat, Mako couldn't be distracted from what had concerned him since deciding to join PITY - his living space.

Sure enough, Mako found it. Room 137. And as he opened the door, he let out a sigh of relief to see that his roommate had not yet found the room. It was empty.
The room was snug, and matched everything about the school. It was also particularly bland, with a nice space on the walls around the bed for photos, notes, etc. But Mako wasn't much of a materialist, and immediately threw his heavy bag onto his bed, and took a seat. Then, there were footsteps.
The door opened slowly, and Mako glanced up to see a young, slender, dark-skinned man poke his head around the door. The two met eyes for a split second, Mako too taken off-guard to muster a sound that made sense, cigarette poking from his lips.

"You wouldn't 'appen to have a light would you, mate?" he asked "All I've wanted to do since we got on the bus is have a fucking fag."

Chess had paid close attention during the introductory statements, not wanting to miss some important detail or another. The founder seemed like the dean type, with a rotund joviality that one couldn't help but feel welcomed around. It seemed like an odd thought, but he wondered just what the man's deal was, why found this school? Was he himself a mutant? He had to be, of course he was, a human wouldn't found a school like this of his own accord and have this much enthusiasm. Still, such a grand gesture, and to keep it up even after the well-known problems it faced spoke to Portwood's integrity.

When the ceremony came to a close, Chess had wasted little time in getting to the reception desk, though had a small line to wait through nonetheless. Was he nervous? No, it didn't matter who his roommate was, Chess wouldn't be in there much. He had better things to do than lurk in a dorm all day, he needed to get his foot in the door of the school's theatre department within the week or lord-knows someone else would beat him to it.

The bubbly-voiced lady at the front desk called out the artsy boy's name, and Chess withheld a scowl when he walked past. He and the black-lung-brigade would be interesting for sure, how long would it be before a fire incident? If he had to get up at three in the morning to vacate the building because they "blazed it" in the library or whatever, there would be hell. A few others got their room keys, most notably the goth boy, Casper. Chess was more or less sure he wouldn't be seeing him around much, but if he did, he wouldn't complain.

"Abbey Chessar," the woman at the desk stated, more than asked. Impressive. Without waiting for more than a nod from him, she handed him his key and went on. "Room 136 for you, with mister Greg Jackson! Enjoy your day!"

Ugh, was that...Greg was the mind-reader wasn't he? Oh, lovely, wonderful. He'd have to lay ground rules for that, certainly, he didn't need someone speaking his mind for him. Worst case scenario it was just more incentive not to be in the room much. Get out and be active, involve himself with the community, surround himself with a good crowd.

His stomach fluttered uneasily when he walked into the empty room. He wasn't afraid, he'd prepared earlier that day for such times, but even still the hollowness, the raw...vacancy of the space. His mind tried of its own accord to fill it, and Chess hurriedly set to work. His stuff was there, good, and in good condition, better. With practiced expertise he selected a new outfit and swapped into it. Slim-fitting black pants that ran into casual boots and a flowy top bound from the elbow down comprised most of it, with finger-less gloves and a vest to round it out. Then as always, he made room for his scarf, a ragged purple thing that tucked into his shirt and barely peaked out from the collar. Once, he'd worn it more showily, but after enough people had asked about it or critiqued its place in his wardrobe, he'd decided that giving it a more subtle place on his person was the better way to go to avoid making it a conversation piece.

A few minutes were spent on his hair, but he was starting to itch with every passing second, and decided that the style would hold up for the rest of the day. He tossed his book onto the bed furthest from the door to claim it as his own, then scurried out of the room and locked the door behind him. Done, done with that, at least for now. He checked his phone for the time, a handful of hours still, he'd be fine. For now, there was lunch to eat, opportunities to go in search of, and people to be around. He started off down the hall, finding his way to the cafeteria before too long.

Within 2 hours Kane was on a bus, and in a seat in the PITY Auditorium. The ride was fairly quiet, no matter how badly he wanted to converse with someone, most wanted to keep to themselves, much to Kane's dismay. Most of the time Kane would just stare out the window and watch the world go by. This of be the last he would probably see the outside world for a few years. He knew that the school would not go as afar as to keep them inside, but it was not safe to have them stay in public. Before Kane knew it he had fallen asleep and was snoring loudly, which was a thing he was kind of known for at home.

Kane had barely realized that the bus had stopped when one of the attendants woke him up. He yawned and stretched before grabbing his bag and following the rest of the students out to the Auditorium. He had to admit, the school was amazing, something that he never really saw in New Orleans. Sure schools were nice, but they never looked great, but this was nice. Kane took a seat near the front of the room, although it was not by preference.

The man on the podium was Alan, he was the man the instituted the school. It was pretty cool seeing the man that had given him and fair opportunity in the world today. If it was not for him, his family would be forever apprehensive around him, which was a life he definitely did not want to live. Kane made sure to pay attention to his speech, getting all the information that he could, if there was any. Fortunately, there was, they were to head over to the receptionist to get their dorm room assignments.

Since Kane was in the front of the auditorium, he knew that it would take him awhile to get his assignment. He decided to wait around for a few minutes before walking up to the line. Things were going fine until he watched a girl fall to the ground. Kane frowned, were people in such a rush that they would push down a cher like her. Kane sighed, he knew he would lose his place in line if he went to go help her, but his conscious had convinced him otherwise. Kane left his place in line and walked over to her, he offered her his hand to pull her up.

"Need help, cher?" he said grinning down at her. Once he pulled her up he smiled and introduced himself, "Name is Kane." He said quickly before leaving her to get back in line.

Before Kane knew it he was given his room and was already in front of his room door. Kane knew that there was someone inside when he heard shuffling. He sighed before opening the door, only to meet a guy who asked for a lighter. Kane frowned, this was the person he was going to bunk with and the first thing that came out of his mouth was if he had a lighter.

"Look, were gonna have to establish a few things before we get started." He said sternly as he closed the door behind him. "There ain't no way, you is gonna be smok'in up in this room, you wanna smoke, you take that damn thing outside." He said with a frown before quickly turning it into a smile. "Well, once that's settled, the name is Kane."

MAKO REED

Mako's eyebrows raised in surprise as the man began barraging him with house rules all of a sudden. In playful defense, Mako raised his arms in surrender and lifted his head back. The cigarette, however, floated gently in place, and as Mako tilted his head forward again he pursed his lips around it once more.

"No problem man, I get the whole non-smoker fing, I was gonna go outside anyway. Otherwise, y'know, I'll get expelled. And that wouldn't exactly be the best start to this bullshit." Mako chuckled to himself, standing up and shaking the man's hand.

"The name is Kane." He said happily all of a sudden.

"Kane..." Mako repeated to himself whimsically, not breaking eye contact "I'm Mako."

I turned, pulling away and glancing at the room, before looking back at Kane again.

"I kinda just chucked my stuff on that bed, but if you want that one you can." I offered awkwardly, wanting to clear the air over the smoking thing, before standing around awkwardly as Kane blocked the only exit.

"I like your shoes, by the way." I commented enthusiastically.

This was the fourth time Greg had used public transportation since his incident, and it was quickly working its way up his list of least favorite things. Greg had immediately taken a seat in the front of the vehicle, remembering from his days of public education that those tended to be much less popular. Nevertheless, a few students who hadn't introduced themselves did attempt to sit near him, though within the first fifteen minutes of the trip they'd moved further back, unable to fight the vague feeling in the back of their minds that told them the strange boy in the glasses was something to be feared and avoided.

And so Greg spent most of his trip with only the voices for company. It wasn't like he wasn't used to it. The loudest by far was the girl with the firey temper, Lynn, even more so than the shy boy who was on the verge of a social panic attack. It seemed she had a gripe ready for every possible occurrence, and spent the better part of the trip raving internally about how important this was for her, how she should have gone back to juvy, her disdain for everyone else on the bus and various other issues. At times, it seemed to Greg less like he was picking up parts of her subconscious and more like he was just getting a live feed directly from her brain.

No freedom for the firebird, false flight fails. A gilded cage by any other name leaves as bitter a taste in the mouth.

Nevertheless, Greg tried to withhold judgement and just not pay attention. It was wrong that he did this to people, wrong that his very existence was a massive violation of everyone else's well-being and privacy; the least he could do was soften the blow by ignoring all the personal information that poured into his mind as best he could.

Before long, they were out of the bus and in an auditorium, where the founder of the school gave them an admittedly decent speech about the school and the students.

Tried to make a place far from fear, fast against false friends. Failed. Try again. Couldn't save them all.

Then, the assembly was over. Greg cowered in his seat in the far corner of the room while everyone else stood up in a big hurry to get their room number. This was bad. The crowd around the woman with the clipboard who was bothered by memories she couldn't forget was enormous - if he walked over there, it'd be like a window blew open on a February day. And that was not even touching the issue of the roommate.

He thought for a moment that maybe they would have taken his... condition into account, and he'd be rooming alone, then thought not. That was far too good to be true - this was a school, after all, and whoever was in charge had probably taken one look at his file and decided that his social issues could be sorted out by companionship. Oh well. Maybe he'd be lucky, and his roommate would be out every moment of the day, and Greg wouldn't have to listen to his brain as he grew more and more disturbed and sickened by Greg's presence. That'd be nice.

Eventually, the crowd thinned, and Greg finally approached the reception desk.

Smarter than I look, seconds stuffed into my brain, not a moment to lose. Failure, fright, frustration, forget-me-not.

The woman smiled at him, oddly enough, and announced in a bubbly voice, "Greg Jackson! Room 136 for you, with one Abbey Chessar! Go get 'em!"

Shaky breaky achy taky jitter critter tossed and lost and bury it deep. Queen takes queen, bishop takes knight, knight takes knight by night.

Chess, then. That was the theater boy, hard to read, who'd wanted everyone to stop smoking. Well, that wouldn't be a conflict between them, but Greg couldn't speak to much else.

He thanked the woman politely and proceeded to his room to find that his roommate had obviously already been here, judging by the belongings that someone had clearly already gone through. Greg's things were here too - toiletries, clothes (all jeans and t-shirts and sweatshirts; Greg was not a fashionable guy), and a few books he'd been unable to fit in the bag he carried with him. Greg set about putting it all to order - he was a pisspoor organizer on his best day, but did a decent job of squaring his possessions away in his half of the room, he thought.

Chess had clearly already claimed the far bed, from the book tossed on it. That wasn't ideal - Greg would have much preferred being deeper in the room and further away from... everything else. Maybe the other boy would understand, but Greg didn't really want to make it a problem - he abhorred conflict, mostly because when he was involved in an argument, everyone tended to lose.

Greg was sitting on his bed contemplating his next move when he heard his stomach growl. He hadn't eaten in... best not to think about it. He remembered something being said about food being served in the cafeteria - might be best to go check that out, even though he wasn't sure he was up to another public outing.

Well, it was either the cafeteria or starve to death, he thought as he walked out the door and locked it behind him. We'll try the former now and see about the latter another time.

---

_{“’Ook at a’ these ta’agotchis ‘egging ‘or the needle.”}

It’s kind of hard to whisper when you have no lips, but Zach was sure not many folks had heard him. Even if they had, they wouldn’t have understood a single word. Many of them passed glances at him, wondering what in the hell happened to make him look like a burn victim wearing a cyberpunk hoodie and goggles. Must’ve been power-related, a lot of folks figured. He could see it on their faces. And oh, too, he could see the looks spelling out the thoughts he was expecting to run into. I’m so excited! I’m going to get to meet new people with new powers! All of them, begging for the metaphorical needle. And like hell if he was going to explain what that meant if anyone asked him.

Eventually, after working his way through the small crowd, he ended up right in front of the reception desk, with that very excited woman looking him straight on, undeterred by his physical appearance.

"Zachariah Bale! So glad you made it," the receptionist beamed, fishing around in her folder for the mutant's file. "You're in room 139 with Mason Crawford." she said, without looking at the file as she presented it. "He just left five minutes and twelve seconds ago," he said, gesturing in the direction the other man had headed.

"Are all the rece'tionists psychic or did I 'ick the lucky line?" Zach replied, mouth left a little agape.

Jennifer giggled. "Haha, no. Just me, I'm afraid!" she said. She was the only woman on duty at the main reception, and despite the rush of students it was not a burden for her. Her powers simply made the job easy; she knew what she had to do, and she did it. "And actually, I'm not psychic," she said, passing a file to a different mutant with just a nod and a smile. "I'm a panmnesiac. I remember... Pretty much everything!" she said, laughing before turning to serve the next student in the line.

"Hey, hey." Zach continued, waving his hand to get Jennifer's attention once again. "You're gonna hear this 'rom 'e 'irst. Any 'eird shit ha'ens, I ain't a 'art o' it." He sounded very, very sure of himself in that moment. And if all things he'd considered turned out to be true in the coming days, he was going to stick to his word and not get involved. These things, however, had drastic ways of changing. Jennifer did not reply to his statement, she was focusing on servicing another student. Zach grit his teeth, turned away, and began walking to who-knows-where. He hadn't looked at a map of this place well enough to figure out any prime locations to head to first.

As he wandered, however, a thought crossed his mind. And he half-whispered it like he did before.

_{"Wh' the hell is 'Ason."}

Mason's ears pricked up. Ason? He looked towards the guy who had spoken. Jeez, he was really badly burned. Mason figured it probably made him deaf or something, hence the guy's speech impediment - but then he noticed that he practically had no lips at all. He felt sorry for the guy, it can't be easy to go out the house like that every day.

"Um, sorry," he began, clearing his throat. "Did you say Mason?" He was going to feel really fucking awkward if he'd misheard the man.

Zach paused for a moment and looked at Mason inquisitively. "'Eah." He replied, nodding a bit, "The 'riggin' 'an-esiac 'er there said yeh and I are 'uddies." Zach's head was racing with thoughts of how the conversation was gonna go down, and they all pointed to one string of questions and responses that he was going to try his best to avoid. But hey, maybe the first one he meets should catch a break.

Mason smiled. The guy was friendly enough, even if it was difficult to understand what he was saying. "Well, that's cool," he said, sounding as genuine as he could. "What's your name?" he asked, looking around a little awkwardly. Mason was no social recluse, but he always found it difficult to make conversation with disabled people. He was scared of saying something that might offend them. "Have you any idea where our room is?" Mason could see the sign for 'DORMITORIES' behind the guy, but he was struggling for conversation.

"Nay's..." Zach paused for a bit, considering something. "It's Zach, 'ut... I'd really a'reciate ith 'ou cah'd 'e... S'itch. 'Know, 'ike the..." Zach made a little motion with his fingers like he was flipping a switch on and off. "'Sa nicknay, 'eah?" In truth, he'd always imagined his stage name as a disc jockey would be Sw1tch Se7en. Never used it in conversation until now though. Probably the only use it was ever going to get.

Mason couldn't help but smirk a little when Zach asked to be called by a nickname. He got the impression this wasn't something anyone ever called him and was more an attempt at reinvention now that he's up here in the hills. Whatever it was, if it made him happy Mason would comply; the guy was sweet enough.

"Alright, Switch," he said, smiling bemusedly. "I think the dorms might be this way." he said, pointing up the corridor towards a large stairwell.

Zach turned his head. "'Eah." He replied, nodding, "They sure are." He turned back to Mason and said, "Yeh, uh... yeh g' ahead, thegh. I 'eel like takin' a 'alk around. Get a... a 'eel 'or this joint." He patted Mason's shoulder and finished, "Take care, 'ud."

And with that, he strolled off.

The ride to the school was less exciting than first thought. The vehicle wasn't like any school bus she had seen before; it was massive and felt more like a luxury limo one would rent out for a Quinceanera or wedding. The tinted windows made it hard to view outside, and since the inside of the bus was slightly dark then outside she visibly glowed slightly, hopefully not enough to annoy any of the other kids. With no one to talk to and nothing to look at, Phoebe felt the pit in her stomach increase, and as a sense of anxious nausea set in she turned her attention to the screen above, watching the slide show with misty eyes.

Arriving was the most exciting part of the trip. Or, perhaps it was the three security checks. Those could surely get the blood pumping. She had sat in silence as the air would buzz lightly with conversation briefly and then fall into the comfortable, heavy quietness once more. Phoebe had wondered briefly what those security checks were for, why they had to be so careful, but it passed quickly as she let herself fall deeply into the plush seat, eyes heavy with boredom and exhaustion. By the time they were let off the bus she was just barely awake, and as she entered the warm summer sunlight and felt the heat dig deeply into her dark skin P.K could imagine just falling asleep right there. But no, they were all quickly escorted into another grand-looking area. The assembly hall to be exact.

P.K found a seat quickly, next to some odd, blue-skinned girl. Her attempted conversation fell on deaf ears, the girl obviously not wanting to partake in any sort of conversation. Slightly flustered, Phoebe turned her attention to the front of the room were an impressive-looking yet portly man stood. He introduced himself as the founder of the school, and from that P.K assumed him to be the headmaster. Her eyes once again drooped with boredom, and she felt her hands rub over the woven sun hat in her hands countless times. She drew invisible circles in the rough material, and once she grew tired of that she drew real circles in the air in front of her. Small, hopefully unnoticed glowing spheres formed at her finger tips. The sunlight pouring through the lovely windows was enough to keep her entertained and full of energy, it seemed, and as the speech droned on she created spirals and stars that eventually faded as she lost concentration.

Soon, the speaker was through, and the crowd of students that had accumulated all rose in one swoop, chattering suddenly filling the hall. People poured around her chair, and in an effort to not get stepped on she rose her knees to her chest and simply waited for the mass of people to dissipate. Waiting was what she did best, after all. And so she sat and watched the colorful collection of classmates wander by, most excited to get down to business while others let their obvious boredom shine clear as day on their faces. It was amusing to say the least, seeing all these mutants in one place. People like her, who wouldn't judge her for being gifted with powers, but would probably still judge her for everything else. Teens were teens in the end.

Eventually, Phoebe rose, white dress shifting gently as she strode towards the less busy reception counter. Instantly, a pretty, blonde lady caught her attention, and the sudden feeling of being... Invaded? Peeked on? Filled P.K's chest. She stood in silence for a moment as the young lady looked her up and down, and then smiled.

"Phoebe Rios! Welcome to Portwood!"

must be a well read lady knew my name instantly

"Oh, hi. Yeah, that's me." She bowed her head in thanks at the welcome, smiling sheepishly. The woman nodded back, a smile of kindness return P.K's flustered one, and then with a bubbly voice she continued on.

"You'll be dorming with Miss Yanna Torres in room two-twenty-one. I'm sure the two of you will get along swimmingly." A ditzy laugh spilled from the woman's painted lips, and Phoebe chuckled back, left hand tightening around her sunhat once more. Right, roommate. She had honestly forgotten about that issue. Or... Was it a blessing? Phoebe felt her mind whir with fears and excitement, and after a final nod and 'thank you' towards the kind, blonde lady she turned, eyes scanning the emptying assembly hall once more.

who knows this Yanna chick could still be around who knows who knows

But she didn't have anyway to figure out who her roommate was right now. Meeting them in the dorm would be her best bet at having a regular, casual conversation. She nodded one last time to herself, gnawing on her lip nervously as she turned and started a slow trek out of the hall, blonde hair bouncing with each step she took.

After everyone was on the bus Devin did his best to enjoy the ride. He was already unsettled over the utterly random drop a bunch of kids in the middle of a field step. The three security check points were even more of a hassle as two times they asked Devin to give up his cane while they scanned it. Both times Devin kept his hands in his lap. He may have hated using the cane, but without his dog or cane he was completely blind in the most primal sense. Thankfully Devin had his headphones which he promptly used to drown out the awkward silence the bus ride was mostly transporting.

When the bus arrived at the school the whole bus contingency was lead to a large room and asked to have a seat. For a few minutes he and the rest of the students waited until someone came up to the front area and began to speak. The man sounded on the older side of the voice spectrum. The lecture on the history of mutants was interesting and the available resources at the school was impressive, but the more the guy talked the more Devin felt himself resenting him somewhat. The man talking was the first person at the school who was a member of the faculty and because of that Devin easily attached him as one of the people who didn't allow Nyx to attend with Devin.

The lecture finished and the students all made their way to find out their room assignments. This was a relief for Devin who was ready to find a space for himself and collect his overall senses. When he reached the front of the line Devin heard the female voice say his name. "Devin Coal we have you on the first floor room number 107 I believe we have a security guard here to help you find it. He will also help you with understanding the layout of the place. Welcome to PITY." The woman took Devin's outstretched hand and put a folder in it. He thanked her and after hearing a larger voice figured it was his guide.

It was a short walk to his room which seemed to be nestled near one of the stairways to the other dorms. He told him a rough outline of the facility and what was directly around his room. Seemed he had lucked out as his room was outfitted with a few more bells than the other rooms. At least that was how most people from the outside would see it. Having his own bathroom was actually a safety issue. It is the most dangerous room for none blind people making it sometimes deadly for a blind person.

Devin started to wonder what he should do. The guard had showed him to his room; however, after that he had left and given him no walk through of his actual room other than he had his own small bathroom. Thankfully the room wasn't locked with a key. Instead Devin had been given a small brace lent that sent a small signal to the door unlocking it. This way he didn't have to blindly poke at the doorknob with a key. Once he got inside Devin slowly found his bed and then started to feel around the room.

Several minutes later he had an okay understanding of where everything was. The room was nice. He had a closet that seemed plenty big, a dresser with space for his clothes and a desk with enough space to fit some of his books and other things. Overall he was happy with what had been provided. From outside his room he could hear a few footsteps of other students making their way up to the upper floors where the other dorm rooms were. "Free alarm clock." Devin said to himself.

Devin saw that the school had already delivered his luggage which had been sent separately. The only problem with that is unpacking it was sort of a two person job. Devin wasn't entirely comfortable just asking anyone who passed or even the school faculty to help with this. He pushed the issue out of his thoughts and instead decided his growing hunger was a far more pressing issue. Grabbing his cane and leaving his room Devin tried to remember which way it was to the cafeteria. Thankfully several other teenagers seemed to have the same plan and soon enough he was able to follow a few other students to the cafeteria.

Once in the larger room he followed the voices and noises to the line. He was able to grab a tray another student offered him and after finding the sliding grate he made his way through the food line. On the other side he had their least messy foods. A chicken breast, jello, and some mash potatoes with gravy. He had a set of silverware to use all he needed now was a place to sit. Devin could tell he was one of the early to arrive people with most people either meeting their roommate or unpacking. Since he hadn't had to go through either of those most tables were empty.

Devin decided against bringing his music player as he was finally starting to feel like the environment was steady enough to be more social. For him the struggle was finding places where he could meet someone without the situation of him needing help arising. It was largely a pride thing for many, but when you have to ask for a lot of help you worry people are around you more because they like to be needed rather than actually enjoy your company. The worst was in early high school where Devin would have to listen to peoples dramas because they helped him with something. Still as the room became more and more busy Devin could feel that people seemed to be avoiding him. 'Same old same old.' He thought with a half frown.

With the place getting more and more busy Devin could see that it wasn't really the case of people avoiding him. Instead it was everyone finding a place to sit with their roommate. Having no idea he was sitting almost perfectly in the middle of a table area he wasn't leaving enough room for people to fit their entire party. Still he hadn't figured this out until he heard someone say they was a space across the way. Instead of offering to move Devin simply felt with his hand how much space was to his right and then scooted over a few so there was room for others to enjoy their own space, but also little enough that a conversation could be heard and joined.

A few people were already turning from the food and starting to look for places to sit. Devin was facing them and while he had no idea who they were he thought it was as good a chance as any. "There is room here." Devin waved a hand in the direction of his left which had plenty of space for people to sit.

'Oh, thanks...' Casper placed his hand gently upon the handle of his traveling bag. Someone, probably the person he saw with it before, had placed it by his room, outside the door. He hadn't seen his roommate yet, wherever he might be. Hopefully he wasn't going to be a slob, or worse, a bully. It wasn't just himself he was afraid for, but others as well. He didn't know what would happen if someone walked up to hit him. Before he'd just take it and cry it off in a corner somewhere but now he could actually hurt people. Was this mutation a gift or a curse? Was it the universe telling him to fight or was it something else entirely? Casper had never been a superstitious person and he didn't believe in any kind of religion. This was all just genetics and whatever, things he didn't understand.

The boy carefully placed the key in the lock and twisted it slowly. 'Please don't break, please don't break...' He took a deep breath and opened the door without fault. Success.

Stepping into the room, Casper laid eyes on the small square with two beds next to each other. There was a bedside table next to each and two closets for their clothes. He closed the door behind him after he rolled the case into the room and easily carried it unto his bed. There is was, his mutation. That bag felt like little more than a feather and it just happened a month ago. Out of nowhere, the scrawny boy's non-existent muscles turned into something titanic below his skin.

He dropped onto his bed with a deep sigh and slid the headset down to his neck. 'Let's do a head count...' It was good to know who was who and who to avoid. First off, the person who stuck out the most, Snake Lady. She looked scary, that's for sure. It was unfair to judge her based on that but she didn't really give off a positive aura. She seemed a bit condescending in a way.

Speaking of bad auras, though. That boy with the sunglasses, just being around him made Casper feel like hell. Was it some kind of mutation or did Casper just suddenly have a shift in moods? No, Casper didn't have any issues with moods just switching like that. As far as he know, he was rather stable in that regard. What was his name again? Damn, he couldn't remember. Well, he seemed like a nice guy but there was something off about him...

Next there was the blind guy. There wasn't much to say about him. Casper hadn't spoken to him or anyone else, really. He could only chalk it down to visual first impressions, no pun intended. Just like the other guy who had this dark aura about him, the blind guy seemed to be on the kinder side of the spectrum. Casper and these two boys could probably get along.

Moving on to one of the other girls, she was small and rather scrawny, just like Casper. She did however fall into the same category as Snake Lady. She gave off a bad vibe and she was probably someone to look out for. Speaking of which, didn't she light a smoke using fire based powers? Judging from the various incidents Casper had read up on, elemental mutants were among the most dangerous. He needed to stay clear of her, or rather, stay on her good side.

There were two other girls, wasn't there? They both gave off a more positive impression than Snake Lady and Fire Girl. They seemed more bubbly or rather, simply less frightening. Perhaps Casper would come in contact with them at some point. He didn't dread it, especially not as much as being stuck in a class room, sitting right next to the Medusa.

'Okay, who's left?' Oh right, that Mason guy. So far the only thing that came to mind while thinking of him were the words 'Social' and 'Cigarette'. He seemed nice enough. He was the first one to initiate a conversation when the group was gathered, wasn't he? Well, Mason was probably going to be one of the more social people around.

Speaking of social people, that other guy followed suit. Kane, was it? Oh, yeah. He seemed like a happy-go-lucky guy and he was sure to spread some positive energy around. If Casper ever mustered the strength to speak with any of these people, approaching a social person would probably be the second step, however. Talking to another introvert would perhaps be easier.

Another british guy also arrived, yet another social guy. There seemed to be a lot of them. He was hauling a bag around, that's what Casper remembered about him.

Was this all of them? No, there were like three more, weren't there? Casper reached his hand up and rubbed his forehead. There were so many people here and he hadn't even met his roommate. If his roommate at least was one of the people he had seen already, it would be easier to deal with but this guy hadn't even showed up yet. Well, all he could do now was to wait.

Casper moved his traveling bag back to the floor and stretched out across the bed. This would be a long, long year.

Oh, so he is English. German roots though, he doesn't seem too happy thinking about that right now... Erica thought as the rest of the scene played out before the bus pulled up. The bus was amazing, to say the least, such a regal design made Erica feel like one of those fancy-pants actors in hollywood on their way to opening night of their latest blockbuster, or maybe one of those super-spies in the movie who get to travel in extreme style while getting briefed on their mission. Taking a seat near the front of the bus, she spent about the first ten or 20 minutes trying to make small talk with those around her, but as time went on she started to feel, strange.

Erica couldn't really think how to describe the sensation, but mostly it made her want to move closer to the back of the bus, to get away from something. It wasn't a very strong feeling, so she didn't follow it, although after a little longer she found herself humming songs from her choir back at her old school. Checking her volume to make sure she wouldn't bother anyone much, she continued humming and distracted herself from everything else during the ride by looking out the window.

The stops along the way surprised her a little, but she did everything they told her to and answered any questions they asked without hesitation. It's most likely that these checks are to make sure that only the people who are supposed to be here are here. Why fuss about a security check? After the third check, the bus finally pulled to a stop and they were all let off. Following the group to the assembly hall, Erica took a seat near the back of the room and listened intently to the professor's speech. It was all the standard stuff, if you ignored the 'mutant' parts. It seemed like a great school, and Erica was getting very excited about the coming years.

As she followed the crowd again to get her room number and any other information that she'd need, She wondered about those she had met at the 'bus stop' and if she'd get many chances to speak with them again. She definitely hoped to meet them all again, and maybe make friends if they'd allow it, and joked half-heartedly in her mind if she'd meet her old friend here as well. I'll have to call her later, and this time actually tell her everything that's happened to me since she left...

Erica's thoughts were interrupted as she got to the front of the line and heard her name called, in a tone of voice that said that she'd been called a few times already. "Yikes, sorry. I was, lost in thought. I wasn't ignoring you on purpose, I promise." She said quickly as she walked up to the blonde woman who had called her.

As she apologized, the woman smiled slightly. "That's alright dear. I know things can be a bit overwhelming at times, especially at a new beginning." She laughed a little, the sound making her seem less intimidating and more ditzy as she soon continued. "Now then, you are in room number two-two-three, and you get the room all to yourself! Here's your key, and your luggage should already be in the room for you." She smiled again at Erica before moving on to the next student, and Erica started wandering towards the edge of the room, a slight damper put on her happy thoughts from before.

No roommate huh. Maybe that'll change later? Erica had found her room relatively easily once she figured out that there were signs pointing towards anywhere one might need to go in the school, and the dorm halls had small plaques along the walls once in a while telling where certain numbers were. The key fit easily into the lock, and when she entered the room she locked the door behind her again and tossed the key onto a nearby desk. Next, she explored the room itself, ignoring her camping-pack that had been placed just inside the doorway for now.

The room was obviously meant for two, as there were two beds, desks, and dressers. There wasn't much else in the room, a couple chairs by the window and a good-sized bookcase by the bathroom door, but otherwise empty. The room had the same elegant/royal touch to it as the rest of the school, but it seemed more subdued in here, this room could be personalized. Satisfied with her explorations for now, Erica went over to her camping-pack and started to unpack everything, organizing it all on the floor for now. She laughed a little when she noticed the bulging quality the pack had to it, showing the trouble that whoever had searched it had with re-packing it afterwards.

Not much was missing, and what was missing was of no surprise to her. They had taken all her knives, her matches, and the tent itself, leaving mostly just her more personal items left. The fact that they took the matches, but left her three lighters with her confused her greatly. Was there some significant difference between the two that she didn't know about? Whatever the reason, they were gone, oh well. Once she finished her sorting-spree, she put all her clothes away in the dresser on the side of the room closer to the windows, and further from the door. Piling the rest of the stuff on her bed, she pondered what to do next.

Catching her reflection in the small mirror she had put on her bed with the rest of her non-clothing items, she realized that she was still changed. Finally dropping her concentration, she watched her reflection blur from her bright, almost too-pretty face to how she really was right now, tired and dirty and definitely not little-miss perfect as she had been making herself look for the past few hours. Seeing her true reflection now made her feel what she saw. She wanted to curl up on her bed, or maybe even the floor so she wouldn't get the bed dirty, and sleep for a couple days straight.

She really wanted to do that, but she rationalized her thoughts and decided to occupy herself instead with cleaning herself up, and then going to get some lunch or something afterwards. In about 30 minutes she had scrubbed herself from head to toe, and managed to find an outfit that was clean/not torn up enough that it was still wearable. As she grabbed her key and left the room to start heading towards the cafeteria she thought about what the school's policies were on going out to shop for necessities like clothing, personal hygiene products, and the like. It's not like it's a campus-lockdown for the students, right?

MAKO REED

With the first social interaction of the day done, Mako was feeling positive vibes as he trudged through the empty hallways and to the nearest exit. Mako's mind, as weary as it was, could not settle. Thoughts pounded through his mind - what would his classes be?; would he make friends?; was there a gym!? All these things nibbled at the back of Mako's brain, and he was finding it hard to settle his nerves about the whole thing. Change was not something a 'young Yorkshire lad' was used to, and he was only just getting used to the fact he could light a joint without touching it. But as his trainers squeaked down their route and through the cafeteria door, mako couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable drop in his stomach. This was scarier than any fight.
Mako barged through the cafeteria doors loudly and with a thud, clumsily unaware of his own mass almost all of the time. As the only one not jumped by the noise, he scoured the cafeteria space with his bright blue eyes, not to find a free seat, but to find a way outside. Until he realised the exit just on the other end of the room, he was only met with faces looking his way, some scowling from the noise, some just curious to see if it was any of their friends they'd met in the last few hours.
With an exit in sight, Mako ran his hands through his hair roughly and marched outside, where only a long, spotless window separated himself from anyone else inside. Mako felt on show for a second, but quickly batted the thought out of his mind in turn for more pleasant memories, as he usually did in times of unfamiliarity and the unknown.
Mako reached into his pocket and pulled out a single, crumpled cigarette and placed it in between his lips, of which the bottom one had been split open in an earlier fight and was currently healing. Mako felt the sting of fag skin hit the wound, and felt his lip. He then felt the rest of his face - why was it so sore? With the most curious of frowns upon his brow, Mako reached into his pocket once more to find his phone, and turned the camera on to front view.
It wasn't the best. Not only had he a split lip, but Mako also had a bruised cheek and purple, slightly puffy right eye. No wonder he wasn't making friends as easily as the others. Why hadn't he noticed sooner?
With another tired sigh, he reached into his pocket once more to grab his lighter. Of which still did not exist.

"Oh for fuck's sake." he groaned.

It did not take long for Mako, his new roommate, to exit the premises. Kane could not help but wonder if his outburst earlier scared him off or something. As unlikely as it was, he did not know the guy well enough to see how he really reacted to the situation. Kane had a habit of doing things like that, getting all puffed up and angry when people did things that annoyed him. Happened a lot when it concerned his sister, and students at school, it was the reason why he got so many fights. It was also the reason his mama always got so mad at him.

Kane shook his head and through his bag on the desk. The room was split in two basically, each side was identical. One bed on each side, one desk on each side, one dresser on each side, and one night stand and shelf next and in the wall one each side. The only big difference was the fact that one side had the bathroom next to it, and that was the one that Mako had chosen. Despite being offered the spot, Kane declined, he was fine with what he had.

Kane opened his bad and began to organize his things in the room. Taking out all his clothes and folding them in the drawers, taking all his pictures and putting them in the shelves that overlooked his bed. Before Kane knew it, his whole bad was empty, he really did not bring to much, clothes, shoes, pictures, deodorant, towel, mom's shampoo, it was all the necessities, at least for now. Kane grabbed his empty duffle bag, folded it up, and stuffed it under his bed, he probably would not see it in a few years. He sighed, everything was in order, the next best thing was lunch.

Kane grabbed this room key and headed into the hallway. He took his time to look around at the decor. Like he mentioned before, this school had done a much better job designing everything. Kane opened the doors that led into the cafeteria and whistled loudly. Plenty of seats to sit in despite the amount of students that were already there. Near the front was a buffet table, filled with an assortment of food, now that was what he was talking about. It had been 8 hours since he had his last meal, his stomach had been whining since he got on the bus. Kane made his way over to the table and grabbed a plate full of food. Mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, ribs, and a soda, his plate could barely hold it all. He choose an empty 4 seater table and dug in, no use wasting time on anything else.

"Yo." Mako exclaimed loudly, slamming a tray of vegetables and hummus onto the table - where Kane was sat. Mako was a creature of insecure habits, and the short time he had with Kane was enough for Mako to consider them both talking terms.
Mako sat opposite Kane, who are quietly, barely acknowledging Mako, despite his width. In one's eyesight, Mako took up a lot of space.

"You eat meat, bruva?" Mako asked enthusiastically, Kane barely allowed time to swallow his food before he went on "I'm a veggie. Not 'cause of animals or owt, just it's healthier for ya's."
Suddenly, a thought shot through Mako's mind - his accent. No wonder everyone he'd spoken to so far seemed so confused. And the bruises didn't exactly help his approachability.

"Uh, lemme backtrack." He began again, chatty and haphazard "'owt' means 'anything' where I come from."

A silence passed as the two ate, Mako contently dipping celery sticks into his hummus. But he couldn't shake off the boredom, or his undeniable curiosity of everyone else around him.

"What, uh... What's your 'thing'?" Mako asked Kane, who peered over his mac and cheese with piercings eyes, making Mako recoil slightly in his seat.
Then Mako saw an opportunity for some social interaction. After all, if he wanted to experience PITY, not just survive it, he was gonna have to make friends. And so, looking like a mad gorilla, he hopped up onto his table with a thud and announced:

"Hey! I'm Mako Reed! Yes, like the shark." There were some giggles to be heard, but they faded shortly "I kinda wanna talk to peeps, as I'm sure everyone does, but I'm not exactly good at plucking topics I don't care about from the air." He was brutally honest, as always, but was used to situations where all eyes were on him. At this point, he didn't rest mind how rediculous he looked. "So, uh..." There was a silent pause as Mako began to concentrate, and all of a sudden Mako's tray began to levitate slowly, all the individual vegetables doing so as well, forming a "HI" with a smiley face in celery sticks, carrots and beans. Mako then noted the sounds that began to emit from the students - not ones of shock or fear, but of intrigue and approval. Mako shrugged modestly, and the food and tray slowly floated back down.

"That's my mutation, or ability or whatever. Who wants to share there's next?" He asked with a cheeky grin, inviting everyone top perform in the show. If anything, at least it might make people see that they have one thing on common, at least. Scary new place full of scary new people? Someone needs to get the freakish, mutated ball rolling.

---

“’Ere’s ‘ah I think it’s gonna g’ do’n.”

The girls sat there, just watching Zach with looks of confusion etched on their faces.

“There’s gonna ‘e sone… a’andoned thacility er sone shit, an’ ‘ere not gonna ‘e allahd to gah near it, right? Sah sone randy is gonna s’ring u’ an’ ‘e all, “Let’s take a closer looksee!” An’ he or she’ll thor’ a ‘unch o’ us togetha to tag along, an’ then ‘e’ll get there an’ thin’ sone ’eird shit. I ‘ean like nothin’ too ‘eird ‘ut it’ll ‘ro’a’ly seen rea’y ‘eird to e’ery’ody ‘ut ‘e.”

A few other folks had started listening. Others had stopped.

“It’s gonna ‘oil dan tah un ‘ig centra’ cons’iracy, a’ight? An’ ‘e’re gonna kee’ snah’in’ arahnd, an’ the teacha’s ah gonna tell us tah knock oth ah shit, and…”

He paused for a moment, ceasing his pacing.

“Yah getting’ ah this?”

Some of them shook their heads. One of them just flat out said no. A young man who’d joined in from a different table stood up and called out, “Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“The ‘lan.” Zach replied.

“The lan?”

“Nuh the lan, the… the th’lan.”

“Just…” The young man replied, “Whatever, just fuck off you freak.”

“Ah…” Switch replied, “A-ha, the’e it is… the instigation. Yah call ’e the threak ‘hen ‘e’re surrahnded ‘y ‘en. ‘Hat a’out yeh, ah? Let’s take a ‘ab at yah ‘ackstahry. ‘ay yah ‘ere a s’teet u’chin ah got ‘icked u’ ‘y sone ‘ald-ass scientists? Ahr a ganger ‘hat ‘issed oth all ‘is thriends? Nah, nah, I got it. Yer a nahr’al kid, ‘ut ya got ya “su’er ‘o’ers” an’ sun’ly, yah ‘arents dun ‘han ya, ya thriends dun ‘ike ya, an’ yer ahnly o’tion ‘as to cone aroun’ ‘ere, sah yeh cud get a three ride tah leisure tahn, ‘ithaht ‘avin’ tah ‘ahry a’out ‘hat ya letht aht there, ‘cause ya dun care ‘at NOTHIN’ an’ NUN ‘ut yahself, like the JANNY ‘ISS RAG YA ARE.”

The young man shut up from his seat and stepped towards Switch, who promptly grabbed a nearby empty chair and held it up legs-forward, like he was taming a lion or something. “’Eah, ‘eah! Gith ya the daddy ‘ar’ux tah kee’ ya ‘ay!” He called out, “C’on! Yah ‘ont theel a thing, ye’r gahn tah ‘U’Y DAHG HEATHEN.”