After the question phase of the presentation had turned for the worst (with a young woman being take out in a frenzy), Irina had merely sat back in her chair and folded her arms on her torso. The teenager wanted to smirk at the lady named Elisa. She wanted to show her that not every body here was going to be as compliant.

Her satisfaction lasted very little though, as Elisa once again began speaking and focused the majority of her passive aggressiveness towards Irina. The anger in Irina once again began to rise incredibly as the woman walked over to her and got within arms reach. The teenager could feel the blood boiling under her skin, making her cheeks hot and red, and bringing up a strong urge to stand up and spit in the woman’s face. Elisa had a point, but Irina was by far too proud to admit it. At the moment, Irina just wanted to grab the lady and smash her head onto one of the many flat surfaces that surrounded them. Why didn’t she though?

’It will only take a few seconds. Just a few and she’ll be taken care of.. but what if the same thing happens to me like that one girl. It probably will’

Irina had been so lost in thought, that by the time she snapped back to reality, there were people already moving about. Abel was walking out of the door with a man that looked like he could eat the teenaged boy. Another boy had already been taken away. Irina looked around until her eyes found the screen that showed a picture of her with a number next to it. She acknowledged her room number but her eyes lingered on her picture. Her eyes. In the picture, her eyes were a vibrant green and full of life. It was when she had cut her hair into a shorter A-line cut and it had been straightened. ’My passport picture’ she thought as she remembered her mom pressuring her to look pretty. She had worn a bit of eyeliner and mascara, and pinched her cheeks prior to taking the picture so they could take on a natural blush. Her freckles splayed out for the world to see, and her mouth had been transformed into a grin which she hardly ever saw on a day to day basis.

”Irina Ivanov?” A warm and gentle voice reached out to Irina to bring her back to the present. The girl turned quickly and looked up to see a tall woman standing in front of her. She was of a good build, which surprised Irina. Not many women were taller than five foot eight inches, but this woman seemed to be nearly six feet. She wasn’t thin either, nor was she fat. She was thick and seemed to have features that if Irina had bumped into her on the street, they would have made her apologize immediately. Even her dark hair that she had in an intricate braided bun was intimidating. ”I will be your coach, dear.” Her voice did not match her appearance. The lady seemed to be in her late thirties, early forties yet her voice was much older, wiser in a way. Irina’s mouth fell slightly agape. No way had she just heard that oxymoron. Yet she had, and there were clues on the woman’s face that showed that she could be kind and gentle like her voice. At the edges of her bright blue eyes there were tiny wrinkles and she had laugh lines. Small things that made her face seem approachable.

“Who… Who are you? I mean. What’s your name?” The teenager finally answered after taking in every single little detail. "I am Esmeralda, but you may call me Esme. Will you come, please? This shouldn’t take too long.” The smile that quickly formed on Esmeralda’s face nearly knocked Irina off of her seat. How could someone look so nice. It was almost inviting. Irina had no other choice but to agree.

As Irina got up, she turned to look at Nikolai. Not with frightened eyes but with worry. What would happen to her? What would happen to him?

“Take care.” Her voice was low and fervent as she tried to somewhat assure him and give him a reminder to remain alert. She turned back to face Esmeralda and gave her a nod, which prompted the lady to smile once again and walk out of the room. Irina followed suit, slightly hesitant at first, and alert the entire way to the empty room. Irina had noted each twist and turn that they had walked through to get to the room, just in case.

”Go ahead and take a seat. I have a few questions on my clipboard over there,” Esmeralda explained as she placed her hand on Irina’s back and prompted her to move forward. Irina complied and sat down, an eyebrow arching as she became slightly suspicious (more than she already was) of what was going on. ”I was placed with you for three reasons. I am from Spain. I speak Spanish along with many other languages. I am a well renowned psychologist in several states on the west coast in the United States, and I have also taught Psychology in Universities. I can help you understand and even decipher those thoughts, feelings, and memories that you see and hear in your mind. Sometimes things like these can get very overwhelming, overpowering even. It will be easy to get lost in them and feel as if that is what you are feeling. The third reason is that I requested you. Every one else here is young and honestly some what rude. I saw how you reacted and how you stood up to Elisa. You do not need someone with a bad attitude with you. You need someone who will understand and listen with an open mind.”

Irina stared. That’s it. She just stared at Esmeralda with amazement and shock. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that she finally reacted. The girl sat up in her seat and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat. “Um, okay? I understand.”

Esmeralda simply smiled at Irina and nodded before looking back down at her clipboard, ”Let’s get started then, shall we?”

URIEL ATTICUS - LOCATION: AUDITORIUM TO ROOM 8 (URIEL'S ROOM)

Uriel sat next to Allia and Arthur, anxiously but eagerly awaiting the arrival of the authorities of this facility. He ripped open a bag of Skittles while he slouched in his seat. The rest of the teens started trickling in soon after. First, a tall dark haired guy who also happened to be shirtless for some reason. He was probably one of the guys near the entrance of the cafeteria when Uriel first burst in. The guy sat away from their initial group, agitatedly pulling down the seat and tapping his foot. He was also, wow, he was also pretty muscular. Uriel fixed his gaze to the front of the auditorium, away from Hot Muscular Shirtless Guy.

Not the time, pal, not the time.

Others came. An Asian girl with pale skin and even paler hair. Extremely striking eyes. She moved a bit strangely and seemed upset. She had obviously been crying recently. Not that he could blame her.
A toned, dark haired girl. She was with the muscular guy in the cafeteria before too.
A … young Asian girl? She couldn’t have been older than 10! Uriel felt anger simmer in the recesses of his mind. These kidnappers had no qualms about taking children either. He ran his thumb over his mirror shard, anxiety was building up once again. Anyways, the young girl sat with the white haired girl from before. Hopefully they would comfort each other.
The next guy, damn, talk about a flashy guy. Mohawk, tattoos, and piercings, dude was the textbook definition of a punk. He sure acted one too, casually climbing over the rows instead of walking and propping his feet on the desks. Uriel frowned at the carefree disregard of furniture conditions.
A- JESUS CHRIST WHAT WAS THAT? It was a girl, that was the only thing Uriel was sure of. Her face and upper arms were covered in scales, but the rest of her seemed normal enough. She was pushing in a wheelchair seating a frail-looking girl with long dark hair. Uriel decided not to probe it further, he didn’t want any more worries.

Finally, a lady came in. She seemed professional, way too cordial for the situation they were in. Her voice was as level as she looked. Aaand then she started talking about powers. Uriel watched her with a sceptical squint. The heir to Atticus Motors was a proud man of science, the offspring of an award-winning engineer and CEO of one of the most powerful companies in the world. He would never believe this sort of justification for their kidnappings, especially if it was as ridiculous as bloody SUPERPOWERS. He wouldn’t believe for a second unless he saw it with his own eyes. And no, that scaly girl didn’t count. Uriel told himself that it was just some rare skin condition. He was a man of science, dammit, SCIENCE.

Elisa’s explanations for their circumstances were concise, practised, and waayyyyy too conveniently explained. It was all too…neat, too easily brushed aside. The logic behind her words was way too sound. And she admitted to kidnapping them so easily too! If he was in any other position, Uriel might have actually believed her words. He had always been told that he was intelligent, had a bright future. But he was also extremely gullible, laughably so. In other circumstances, he would’ve eaten those words up like a club sandwich. But he couldn’t afford to be gullible here. He couldn’t believe her, even if her statements made so much sense… Geh, whatever. At least she had a pretty smile.

Uriel didn’t feel good at the idea of what Elisa’s announcement of preliminary tests. Sure, it would be blood tests and exercises, but then what? Next thing he knew, he would be sliced open and robbed of his kidneys, or have his bone marrow forcibly taken out, or have his brain taken out for examination. He had seen those sci-fi movies, momma didn’t raise no fool. Geez, weren’t there like Geneva Convention rules for this shit? There probably were, but they probably wouldn’t be much help in this most likely remote facility. They certainly didn’t do anything when he got kidnapped.

Question time came around. There were so many he wanted to ask, but which one would he choose? He could have stalled this presentation for about an hour with all the things he wanted to find out. But alas, his indecisiveness was his downfall. All the other kids asked their own questions while he was still choosing. A number of them were pissed, rightfully so. And some had accents. One Spanish, one Russian. The scaly girl who threw herself at the researchers (you go, girl) was screaming in what sounded like Russian. Were they taken from different countries? Arthur and Allia had accents too. More worries to have. It was unlikely that they were still in Australia. There were no windows, no doors to the outside, no indication of their outside environment. They could be in any country right now, somewhere far from his home in Melbourne. Too many worries right now.

And then the answers came around. Once again, they were too neatly packaged. But one thing caught Uriel’s attention. They were endorsed by international governments? He found that difficult to believe. But then again, you could never trust those guys in the upper parts of society (even if Uriel himself was one). And their families had been notified too? Uriel allowed himself a flicker of hope. But then came the more interesting part, brought up by Arthur’s question. Elisa claimed that this organisation was nurturing empowered people out of goodwill. Yet another neat explanation. If this organisation was so philanthropic, then why did they confiscate his phone and cut off all outside communication? Why did they make them wait until the testing?

“I'll take my shot at freedom, even if it means gambling on much worse."

Uriel nodded in agreement. As long as he could go back to his family, he would comply with whatever they wanted him to do.

Eventually, the presentation came to an end and the coaches came in. Uriel stood up, making sure to pick up the discarded wrappers from his snacking during the talk. He might be held here against his will, but littering was still for losers.

“Uriel Atticus?”

He looked to see his coach. She was the very model of a Scandanavian woman, had all that blonde hair, blue eyes jazz. She couldn’t have been any older than her early thirties. Her lab coat with rolled up sleeves loosely covered her casual attire of a shirt and jeans.

He turned and waved to his friends. “I’ll catch you guys later then.”

Uriel hopped down from the stands to greet his new coach.

“My name is Julia,” she smiled and talked with a sweet Nordic accent, “I’m qualified as a neuroscientist and lectured at the Karolinska Institutet. I’m looking forward to working with you.” She held out her hand.

Uriel considered his options. The quicker he went through those preliminary tests, the quicker he would get to contact his family. And he never got a chance to ask those questions before. The best way to get information now was through Julia here. And the best way to get information out of anyone was to make them trust you, to become their friend. And boy oh boy, Uriel was damn good at making friends.

I’m gonna befriend you so hard that we’re gonna be baking brownies and playing laser tag together before you can even BLINK.

Uriel practically monologued internally. If he could, he would have laughed maniacally too, but that would have been weird. Later, perhaps. So instead, he shook her hand with the firm grip his dad had instructed him to do and smiled.

“Uriel Atticus, but you already knew that. Flashy name, I know. I must say, I love your accent.”

Aha! Psychology 101, bitch! Best way to get someone to like you, open with a compliment!

She looked at him warmly.

“Why thank you! Yours is wonderful too. We should head back to your room now. I’m sure you’d like to get these tests over and done with as soon as possible.”

They started walking to the Auditorium doors before Julia piped up.

“Oh, and if I may, would you kindly hand your weapon over to the guards at the doors? We wouldn’t want anyone here to get hurt.”

Her friendly tone hadn’t wavered a bit, but the implication was clear. Uriel’s smile didn’t budge either, but his eyes were now cold and deadly. It was only a split second before he chuckled and broke the sudden tension.

“Oh right, of course! Yeah, it would be suuper awkward if I pulled out a weapon in the middle of our tests.” He put on the “business man negotiations” voice that he sometimes used to get out of nasty situations with. “Would be a total conversation killer. Killer, geddit?”

He flicked finger guns at her, wearing a goofy grin after delivering his pun. She laughed, a bit nervously at first but it seemed genuine when the joke finally reached her. She probably thought he was some sort of psychopath now, cracking jokes about murder while in possession of a stabbing implement. He wouldn’t blame her if she did, considering the things he was willing to do to escape.

He handed his mirror shard to one of the guards at the door, as well as his empty snack wrappers.

“Make sure you put these in the non-recyclables,” Uriel advised jokingly, “Keep up the fine work.”

He gave the guard a friendly pat on the shoulder and continued to his room.

His room, Number 5, was exactly as he left it. The door to the bathroom was closed, the shattered mirror out of his view. Uriel spoke as he took of his blazer and used one of the provided coat hangers in the wardrobe.

“I gotta say, your organisation gave us some really sweet digs. Plus, the staff here seem really nice too. Who could blame me if I got Stockholm Syndrome?”

More finger guns.

“Geddit? Cos you lectured there! Anyways, let’s get this done quickly. I’ve got a major Legal Studies project to hand in next week and I don’t need Ms Carter hating me more than she already does.”

Arthur took a seat on the highlighted sofa. As with everything in the place it was of high quality, comfortable and almost brand new. Gisela sat in the chair, slipping off her heels before tucking her legs underneath her; hardly the usual counsellor approach.

"So, Arthur, let me tell you what we know so far and how we're going to proceed. Then we'll cover potential implications of your power. After we're done you can give your family a call." Arthur caught something in her otherwise relaxed posture; an alertness as she watched his reaction.

They know, then. I suppose I'll test this then.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers to form a platform on which he rested his chin, appearing thoughtful and focused.

"That sounds fair to me. I'd like some contact with the outside world so I appreciate the effort you've made to ensure it is possible." There it was. A flicker of confusion. They'd clearly researched their 'pupils' well; not many would know of the... difficult relationship he had and his father had. Gisela regained her composure quickly, smiling with a nod and looking down at her clipboard.

"Okay, so first is what we know about your power as it stands now. Going by the data from your rugby injury we can see that you heal at a rate of 6.7 times faster than the average. Whether this applies to any kind of injury is something we don't know so find the cause of it will be our first objective. I'll take some blood samples from you and we'll examine them to see if there's any clue there. Until we have those results we won't know how to move on from there." She looked up from her clipboard at Arthur who merely nodded his understanding. He was wearing a surprised expression, widening his eyes a little and opening his mouth the smallest bit; over the years he had become adept at mimicking expressions as they didn't come to him naturally.

"Next are the implications. Well, you've studied at Eton. You can understand what impact we could make if we could somehow replicate your ability in others, the lives we could save and the illnesses we might be able to cure if that's something your ability affects. That's pretty much it for today, I'll just take those blood samples from you and then you can be off. You're not afraid of needles or anything, are you?" She smiled at her joke and Arthur replied in kind.

As if you wouldn't know that already. Not that I'm too sure what fear feels like.

"No, I think I'm okay with them. I've not really had blood taken before." He forced out a nervous laugh and rolled his sleeve up when instructed. Gisela fetched a kit from one of the cupboards and put a tightstrap around his upper arm to make the process easier. She drew two small syringes of Arthur's blood before disposing of the waste and pressing a cotton wool ball down on the jab.

They both watched in interest at the injury and sure enough it stopped bleeding almost immediately. For good measure Arthur accepted a plaster to put onto the hole and then stood up, ready to get the hardest bit of all this over with.

"Your father should be ready for your chat now. Return to your room and you'll find a tablet in there set up for a video chat." Gisela smiled again, guiding him to the door. "Until our next session." She said as a means of farewell.

As ordered, Arthur returned to his room and there was, as promised, an iPad on the bed. It was set up with some kind of attachment plugged into the charger port which he wasn't technology minded enough to understand but assumed it was some kind of security device. The tablet was already switched on and when he unlocked the screen it began the video call automatically. There were no buttons except a red phone icon to end the call; they really weren't taking any chances with the residents contacting the outside world except in controlled environments.

The call was picked up almost instantly and his father's study came into view. The wing-backed leather chair behind the heavy oak, ornate desk and the dark wooden bookcases filled with leather bound classic editions of various literary works. It was just like his father to choose an imposing vista for this meeting.

"Arthur." The tone was clipped, it appeared Ragnarson Sr. had no intention of spending more time on this call than he had to. "You have settled now?" It was more of a statement than a question. No, an order.

"Father. Yes, it is most comfortable." Arthur's tone was just as short and hostile. The only emotion he ever truly had felt was rage and only towards his abusive father. The one who, even in this situation, was uninterested in Arthur's situation.

"Good. Do not disappoint me there. Make yourself useful to your family, that's all." The call was cut off abruptly. In a rare fit of irritation Arthur hurled the device at the wall, the tablet screen shattering as it clattered to the floor. He calmed his breathing, the anger vanishing in a flash and leaving him with the usual emptiness he felt inside. At least had managed to confirm a few things from the meeting and the call.

That bastard is involved in this, after all.

'My family knows?' The thought baffled her as Mara leaned against the wall, nursing her now throbbing hand against her chest. They had to have told them some lie. Her mother needed her. Someone had to keep the house hold in check. Help the younger ones with their homework and get them out of bed in the morning. Her mother couldn't do it, not that she didn't try, her job was just too demanding for her to pay full attention to her brood.

Mara noted that her final question went untouched as the woman moved away to introduce a rather robust group of adults. 'Our coaches, eh?' She eyed them warily as one by one they stepped forward and called a name. Fatigue swept over her once more as she felt her body fully sag against the wall.

"Amara."

A gruff voice called out. Her eyes widened a touch as she traced the voice to squat, burly looking man. Arms folded across his chest as his gaze met with hers. He arched his brows with subtle impatience and Mara felt herself slowly stir back to life. She slinked forward each footstep as uncertain as the last as she silently followed him out of the auditorium. Mara kept her arms folded closely across her chest, her head bent forward like a petulant child being lead away for punishment.

Suddenly the man halted causing her to bump lightly into him. Mara mouthed an apology that her voice wouldn't allow her speak as he pushed open a door for her.

Stepping into the room felt like being back in the room she started in. The walls a soft white wash, the tile on the floor polished and melted together effortlessly. There was a few furniture scattered around and a small cabinet off to the back.

"Take a seat Amara." the man commanded as he stepped into the room behind her. She shuffled off to a small chocolate colored armchair and perched on the edge. Her body bent over, fingers grasping the edge as she stared hard at her shiny Mary Jane shoes. For the first time she noticed the small grey scuffs that marred the sides. Frowning she kicked lightly at the tile; she was particularly fond of the pair.

"My name is Felix," he mentioned as he took his own seat across the room from her, "I'll be your advisor while you are he-"

"Will we get to go home?" Mara interjected. Her questioned had went unanswered earlier but she asked it once more with little hope. Her voice was hard, even to her own ears, and echoed softly in the stillness in the room.

She could hear a small puff of air push from his lips. Was it in frustration or sympathy? Mara didn't bother to look up to gage his reaction.

"You'll be here for as long as you need to be." Felix answered his own words clipped, "Now Amara-"

"It's Mara." she interjected once more. She was sure that she was probably getting on his nerves but ot was important to her. She had started going by Mara in middle school when a group of bullies had decided to pick apart her name and call her 'Amoora' as a poor attempt at a jest. When she moved to her new school she never introduced herself as Amara and it felt strange to hear.

"Okay, Mara then. As you've been told you're here to help develop your abilities in order told protect yourself and others from harm," he pulled out a small note pad from his lab coat and thumbed through several pages, "From what we've noted there is a small temporal disruption that occurs around you when you're in physical danger, correct?"

Mara's brows knitted together as she looked up at him, 'Temporal disruption?', it was of she was in a bad sci-fi movie. "Come again?"

She watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Let's not do this, Miss Nguyen." He leaned forward and leveled his gaze with hers. Mara noted the weariness that lined his face and eyes, he was much older than he looked. It was subtle at first. Lost among the bulk of his body but there it was in the creases of his skin and the slight peppering that sprouted at his hairline. He was old and tired and not willing to put up with any of her nonsense.

"In layman's terms, time seems to slow around you. Does it not?" It wasn't a question. He knew that she knew exactly what he was getting at. Those weird gaps in time that felt like the very air was being sucked out around her.

Mara didn't respond as silence hung between them.

He flipped through a few more pages, "If you insist then. On December 12 you were walking home with your friend, Nova PeGan, to which you told her and I quote. It was like everything froze. Or better it moved super, super slow. Like I don't know how to explain it properly."

Mara's face was a open slate of surprise as she felt her mouth open in shock. Nova was the only one she had told anything about her odd feelings, afraid of the judgement that would come if she had, but Nova took it in stride. In fact she almost seemed excited as she chattered away with enthusiasm.

Licking her lips she nodded, ignoring the smarting pain that pulsed back at her, "Yes, I remember that. It was in regards to my father's car accident."

The gods knew she didn't want to talk about this. Her words fell softly and with a sad tremble as unbidden memories sprang to the forefront of her thoughts.

Felix gruffly stood from his chair and closed the distance between the two. He knelt down before her and there was a softness now that plagued his eyes, "I know this is hard on you but we're only trying to help. Now I won't make you talk about it anymore today but you do need to be fully aware of what you're capable of." There was a sincerity that Mara didn't expect from him and a small smile graced her lips.

He paused a moment before standing up and trudging towards the back medicine cabinet. Mara watched as he fumbled with a set of keys before unlocking the metal cabinets. "For now, we're just going to take a blood sample and then you can return to your room. There's a special surprise waiting for you there." His voice almost bellowed out brightly as he mentioned the surprise.

Mara had perked up a little as well as he came back with a small medical kit.

If her face could turn any paler it would've. Mara hated needles with a vengeance. She extended her already bruised arm towards him while focusing her attention elsewhere.

Felix wrapped the tourniquet tightly around her upper arm. Stubby fingers poked and prodded the inner her, "Your veins are tiny." Felix remarked and Mara gave a dry laugh. It was true. She found out the hard way over time that every nurse she had, had a difficult time finding a vein large enough stab. It often left her with large bruises and occasionally a ruptured vein as they poked her with various sized needles.

She was surprised at how gentle he was as he inspected her arm. Seeking out his target with great care. Finally, Felix seemed to find the spot. A sightly thicker vein hidden on the upper inside of her arm. Mara screwed her eyes shut as she felt the pinch of the needle and then the slightly tugging as her blood was pulled out and into a syringe. Seeing blood never phased her in the slightest, just the initial poke that'd cause her to tense up.

He quickly withdrew the needle and held a cotten ball to her arm. "Alright, all done. Keep this on for at least five minutes." He commanded as he stuck a piece of medical gauze over the cotten ball. He took a step back and motioned towards the door, "Better hurry to your room for your surprise." Felix said with a awkward looking smile.

Mara couldn't help but smile back before stepping back out into the hallway. Felix seemed like a nice guy. A little gruff and straight to the point but once she stopped resisting his prodding he relaxed around her.

She made her way back to her room, double checking the room number before entering, it looked exactly how she left it. Plain and simple. Only this time there was a small electronic device sitting on her bed.

Mara rushed over picking up the sleek tablet in her hands and swiped quickly. The device buzzed alive as it started ringing and she almost cried as her mother's weary face appeared on the screen.

"Mara, darling?" her mother asked sleepily. Mara could see the blonde curls that had escaped her mother's pinning. The dark circles that were a permanent feature under the same dark blue eyes Mara had. Yes, this was definitely her mother.

"Mom, I don't know where I am. I don't want to be here. Please. Come get me." her voice broke as more tears spilled down her face.

"Oh, honey. You're not well, sweetie. The doctors said they're were going to help you."

Unwell? Is that what they had told her?

"Mom, I'm fine. They kidnapped me and drugged me and not just me! There's a ton of kids here! They're going to run tests on us to develop our powers or something. You got to help me!"

"It's just like Nova said. You really are different," her mom's voice was soft and sad, "I know this is hard, honey, but they're going to take good care of you and how exciting is this?! You are special! More than a mother could've hoped for. These people are going to make sure your life is amazing and full and beyond anything you could be achieved here. Now, Mara. Mommy has to get some rest before my next shift. You get some rest too. We love you so much. Work with the doctors and become the best you, you can be." Her mother rushed before the tablet went dark and the call disconnected.

Nova had told her mother?

A new wave of shock hit her as she slumped onto her bed. Her mom sounded crazy. How could she just so easily accept that her daughter was taken from her? Had sleep deprivation messed that much with her grip on reality that she'd openly accept that her daughter was some sort of mutant? No. She knew her mother well enough. They would've coated it with medical jargon and price that it was somehow in everyone's best interest. Mara let her body be overtaken with sobs as she reflected on her reality. Her mother hadn't even told her anything about the well being of her siblings before rushing off. Curling onto her side she let all her frustration poor from her until her body could give no more and the tears would no longer come.

Mayuri Nakasone

Myriam was kind. Her face had a type of friendly nature that Mayuri found herself attracted to... Hishida-sensei had that kind of expression too. Why didn't she come back to school? Oh, that was right... The school said she had died in a car accident. They didn't go into specifics, but a lot of the students jumped to a single conclusion. She had been killed. Where the rumour came from was a mystery, but it spread. Eventually every person in the school had heard it.

The girl sat next to her seemed similar. Mayuri didn't struggle as she was drawn into a hug and held close. If anything, she welcomed it. Her mother used to do the same when she was upset. So as Myriam pulled her close, Mayuri turned, buried her head into the girls chest, wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her.

Tears still streamed down her face, this time accompanied with a light sobbing, a whimper and pained sound of someone who had cried so much in the past... Her history wasn't that bad. Not compared to some people, at the least. Just a tale of a little girl bullied for being nervous and socially inept, and later in life bullied for looking like a little girl.

That little girl spent a lot of time crying. For most people it was almost like a way to gain attention, or to expell their pain. But for Mayuri it was simply her way of ignoring everything and focusing on one thing. Everything that happened around her was nothing, it didn't matter, didn't exist. Not to her. That was best. It was best she didn't have to witness the girl throw a fit, attack the Scientists, be carted off to have God knows what done to her.

Not have to watch each person in turn who had stood up being forced back into their place. She could just about hear Elisa over the nothingness. Her tone was serious, very serious, too serious. It had changed so quickly. Before it had a light seriousness to it, but now that serious was deadly. It was a serious that cut like a knife and ripped through flesh.

It hurt to hear, and so she didn't listen. She tried not to listen. It was difficult, but she managed it. The coaches came. Each person was taken by one somewhere. But Mayuri still wasn't aware... That was, until someone poked her gently on the arm. It was a soft, rather delicate. It was her coach, evidently.

Her head turned away from Myriam's chest, and she looked at the woman. She was rather tall, about 5'10". Her body was thin, defined to a degree, her chest slightly large. This figure... Mayuri's gaze drifted up the woman's body and to her face. It was calm, relaxing, motherly. It had an experienced look, but it was beautiful all the same. Her hair was shoulder length, a brownish black colour, but slightly greying from stress.

"Hello, Nakasone-chan." no... No... Nonono... That wasn't right. What was she doing here? She died... Right? "I will be your coach while you stay here... Please, follow me, if you would."

Her eyes could barely understand what was happening. This woman, this coach, who spoke with such familiarity and warmth. 9 years ago, she died. That was what they said. This woman who enjoyed the English language as much as Mayuri did, if not more. Her first friend in that class. Why did she have to appear here, as a ghost, after so long..?

Mayuri wordlessly unwrapped her arms from Myriam's waist and stood before the Coach. They both walked away, but before doing so the girl looked back at the person who hugged her. She smiled and she waved goodbye. They would see each other soon, of couse, but it wouldn't be now. Now was time for a new lesson. One Mayuri had been building up to for 9 years.

Silently, the two walked out of the auditorium and down the corridor and into the room where it had started. Room 7. They stepped in, and immediately the women walked over and pulled the chair out from under the desk. She swivelled it round, so it faced the bed, and left it, walking over and sitting down on the bed. Usually words followed that action, but this time there were none.

But Mayuri still knew what to do. She sat down on the seat, and looked up at the woman, tears in her eyes but sat on the edge. Why did she leave?
"Did you ever finish reading Hamlet, Mayuri?" what? Of course she had. She had finished it 6 years ago! "Of course you have... If I know you, you probably wrote an essay on it because your mum asked you to when you were 12."

"Wh-where did you go..?" why was that her first question? Out of every question she could have asked, it had to be that one... But that was what she first though of. The question that had been racking her brain the moment she had laid eyes upon the Coach. Her memory had never been the best, but this person was someone she could never forget.

"I'm like a secret agent from one of those manga's Yui used to read in Biology when she got bored..." there was a bit of a smile that creased her lips as she spoke, reminiscing, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you~" she was always like this... Teachers were usually so serious, especially the ones that taught her class. But for some reason, the woman sat in front of her never was.

"Hishida-sensei, wh-!" Mayuri went to shout the question, a question that would have brought her to tears, but she was cut off.
"Please, Mayuri, call me Ami. And, for why... I'll tell you what I can. You have an ability. Think of it like a superpower. Your's in particular protects you against things that would likely hurt you, so physical forces. Say someone were to throw a dart at you, the rune on your chest would generate a field and deflect the dart. At least, thats what we think it is."

The way she said it so simply made it sound like she was recounting part of the plot of a fiction book that she would set Mayuri to read.
"Now, listen, Mayuri... I'm sorry about this, but its for your own good. I need to keep this session brief, but we can catch up in the future." as Mayuri went to protest, she held up a hand, "I need to take a blood sample. I know you aren't afraid of needles, so dont struggle."

Mayuri had started crying... Once again, it was silent. She nodded silently in agreement, and held out her arm - rolling up the sleeve of her jacket. From a bag that sat to the side of Ami, she drew a small syringe in a plastic bag. She removed it took of the cap, and quickly drew the blood required. Mayuri didn't wince, or cry out in pain. There wasn't much point.

Ami dabbed the wound, placed a plaster over it, and disposed of the tissue.
"Thank you, Mayuri. It was a pleasure seeing you again." from her bag, she drew a tablet and handed it to the girl, "Unlock the device, and you will be able to talk with your family. I will see you again, my dear. If I can, I'll bring you a book to read. I will expect you to write an essay on it~!" that was a typical joke, yet not really... Everytime she joked about that she always meant it, like when she joked about a surprise test.

"Thank you, Hishida-sense-Ami..." Mayuri waved her goodbyes, and watched as her old teacher stepped out from the room. As soon as she was gone, though, she swiped the tablet, and watched as the device unlocked and instantly started a video call.

Ring... Ring... Click.
"Mayuri?!" there they were... Her mother and father. Their faces were stricken, tears already in their eyes and their cheeks lined with tear tracks.
"H-hi, Mum... Dad..." they had both started crying already. The sight was painful, very painful, and Mayuri had started crying as well...

"Thank God... A-are you okay?" they sounded distraught. They didn't want her here.
"I-I'm fine... Are y-you?" this conversation was already unbearably awkward...
"W-we wanted you home... B-but they said you couldn't leave. W-we protested, but they s-said it was for your own good... And that... Y-you could be d-dangerous..."

Of course, they had used fear... Her parents were both very intelligent, but they had seen her ability first hand, blamed it on sheer luck.
"Pl-please... I-I-I want to g-go home..." Mayuri was sobbing now... Her once silent crying had reverted into ordinary crying. It was no longer a distraction, but a cry for help.

"W-we know... I want you home... Your mother wants you home... Your sister does, Yui does, the rest of your friends do... But please, do your best... They m-might be able to help you... I-I dont trust them, but I have to..."

They weren't blackmailing them, were they? How was Yu doing? What did they tell her parents!? So many questions crossed her mind, but soon the tablet was passed away. The screen was filled with the face of her sister, Uiharu.
"Sis..." she looked very tired, "Dont cry. Escape. Get yourself out of there, please. I love you... Okay? Good... G-good luck..." was she about to cry? She couldn't tell... The call shut off before she could say anything else.

But, Ui was right. She had to escape. Maybe... Maybe the others wanted to do so too. They could band together and fight their way out!

Or... They could die trying. It'd be more merciful.

---

(for the sake of not having giant blocks of text cluttering things up, assume this is all done in Russian)

Stasya's return to consciousness was as difficult as wading through waist-deep snow without snowshoes. Every time she tried to pull a thought together, it slipped away from her grasp, leaving her floundering in murky darkness. She didn't know how long she had been like that, but eventually she began to perceive some sensations. Faint light shining through her eyelids, indistinct murmurs, something against her wrists that was somehow soft and rough at the same time. But, nothing seemed to stick or make sense.

When she finally felt coherent enough to form proper thoughts, there were several things that she was aware of. She seemed to be reclining on a chair of some kind, and every few seconds there was a tapping sound that didn't seem to follow any particular rhythm, along with a soft humming sound. Her mouth felt like it had been filled with cotton balls and her body with lead.

Cracking open her eyes, Stasya (with great effort) raised her head and looked around. She was in some kind of office, laying on an armless recliner. Sitting in a chair across the room from her was a youngish looking woman with brown hair and glasses, brow furrowed as she tapped away at her tablet, a pair of earbuds in her ears. She was pretty, almost the "nerdy-girl-next-door" type, though the look was tempered by the white blouse and black skirt she wore.

Groaning softly, Stasya tried to push herself up, but her arms jerked to a stop when she tried to raise them, causing her to look down. Brown leather straps had been buckled around her wrists, and from the feel of things they had been linked together under the recliner. Somebody had changed her clothes as well, exchanging the hospital gown for a pair of white shorts and a white t-shirt. Frowning, and becoming increasingly disturbed by what was going on, she pushed herself up the recliner awkwardly, tugging at the straps.

The woman looked up at the motion, and smiled brightly as she pulled out her earbuds. "Oh good, you're awake. Welcome back to the land of the living." Slipping her tablet into the purse at her feet, her smile became apologetic. "I'm sorry about the restraints, but... you did bite one of the guards. Left a nasty-looking wound. So, we weren't sure how you would be when you woke up."

Stasya stopped and stared at the woman. She was Russian? "Who are you?"

The woman smiled kindly. "My name is Kara, and yes, I am Russian, just like you. I'm glad to meet you Stasya."

"How do you know my name?"

"I saw it when I read your medical file." She gestured to the straps. "Tell you what. I don't really think that those are necessary right now. All things considered, your reaction was pretty forgivable. You woke up in a strange place, you don't know what's going on, and then told that you can't leave, I don't blame you for getting upset. They put them on as a precaution, but I don't think you really want to hurt anybody, do you?"

Stasya didn't quite know what to make of this woman. She seemed nice enough, and her voice sounded really nice. But if she worked for the people who had kidnapped her, then she was keeping her from going home.

"So, how about this." Kara leaned over in her chair, bracing her arms on her legs. "If you promise not to bite me, I'll take the straps off. Deal?" Again, she gave the younger girl a kind smile, eyes betraying nothing but sympathy. After a moment, Stasya nodded, and her smile broadened. "Excellent. Let's get you a little more comfortable, huh?" Rising from her chair, she unbuckled the straps and dropped them into her purse, leading the girl to the empty chair across from hers. "There we go. Doesn't that feel better?"

Rubbing her wrists, Stasya simply looked at the woman with distrust. "Where am I?"

Looking a little off-put by her response, Kara sighed. "Well, as Elisa explained, this is a research facility for... special people. People like you, who can do unusual things that other people can't." She gestured to the scaled around Stasya's face. "We've been tasked by various governments around the world, including Russia, to determine how and why you are able to do what you do, help you control your ability so that you don't accidentally hurt yourself or those around you, and hopefully find ways that your ability can be used to help others." She smiled. "I actually asked to be assigned to you. You see, I'm a biologist, so when I heard that you were a shapeshifter, well, I just had to see what you could do." Her smile turned slightly awkward. "I also minored in psychology while I was in college, I want to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible."

"Assigned?"

"Yes. Officially, I'm your "coach"," Kara said, making air quotes as she did so. "It's my job to help you learn and control what you can do, so we'll be spending a lot of time together. But," she smiled and leaned forward again, "what I'd really like, is to be your friend. I know all of this seems scary and strange, but I promise you, my top priority is to make sure that you're as happy and healthy as possible." A slight hopeful look appeared on her face. "Do you think that could happen, Stasya? Could we be friends?"

Again, Stasya remained silent. "When can I go home?"

For the first time, Kara's expression fell. "Ah. Right, that." She sighed again, looking off to the side. "I know why you want to go home. You're worried about your sister. But, until we know more about what you can do and how to control it, it's too dangerous for you to leave right now."

"Then can I at least talk to her?" Stasya cried, moving to edge of the chair. "I want to talk to Natali!"

For a moment, Kara looked genuinely sad, and just a little bit guilty. "That's the other thing." She bit her lip. "Stasya, I need you to believe me when I say this. I promise you it's the truth. We've tried to get in touch with your family. We really have." She sighed again. "But, the only time somebody answered, they hung up."

To say that Stasya was devastated was an understatement. A yawning pit of fear and horror opened up in her stomach, and again she felt that itching, burning sensation across her skin and scales. For a moment, Stasya thought she was going to be sick. "Please," she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes, "I have to go back."

Kara scooted forward in her chair, reaching out to tentatively place her hand on the weeping girl's knee. Stasya flinched away from the contact and retreated further into her chair. "I know you want to go back. But for the time being, you have to stay here. If you go back now, there's no telling what might happen." She smiled sympathetically. "Think of it this way. What if you go back, and then something happened, and you accidentally hurt Natali?"

A chill ran down Stasya's back so fast it was like someone had injected ice water directly into her spine. The fear that she had felt before was magnified ten-fold, and she wanted to burrow deeper into the chair.

However, as she looked at the other woman, that fear began to be replaced by a growing sense of outrage and disgust, and the itching in her skin moved to inside her teeth and fingers. How DARE they try to use Natali against her like that! How dare they try to use her sister to manipulate her. This... woman, had no idea what she been forced to endure, what she had had to do. She didn't even care that Kara had a point; if they had genuinely cared about her well-being, they would have let her see her sister before taking her to... wherever she was.

No, she was just an interesting science project to this woman. Unfortunately, she was right. Stasya couldn't take the chance that she might accidentally harm her sister. So, if they wanted to see what she could do, then she would play along. That, at least, she was good at by now. Fixing the most defeated expression on her face that she could, Stasya nodded. "Okay."

Kara smiled, reaching towards her again, then withdrew her hand. "Thank you, Stasya. I know this is hard for you. I promise, we'll keep trying. But for now, let's just focus on you, and maybe once you have better control over this, we'll see about trying to bring Natali here to see you, okay?"

Stasya had no doubt that the woman was lying through her teeth. In fact, she doubted that they had made much effort to reach her family. But, she simply nodded again, drawing her knees to her chest. "What happens now?"

"Now? Not much." Kara shrugged. "Honestly, this was mostly just a chance for you and I to meet and talk. I do need to take a blood sample from you though, so that our lab guys can see what your DNA tells us. Is that okay? Your ability really is fascinating."

Nodding, Stasya let her legs relax as she rolled up her sleeve. A thought occurred to her, and she looked at her "coach" as the woman retrieved a small kit and tied off a tourniquet over the scales on her upper arm. "Where did these clothes come from?"

Kara smiled as she ran her fingers along the inside of her elbow, gently flicking the skin. "I picked them out for you. I figured they might be a little more comfortable than that hospital gown you had before. Now, this might hurt just a little bit, so take deep breaths." Inserting the needle, she pulled back on the plunger, watching the syringe fill up with red blood. "I'm really looking forward to getting to know you better, Stasya."

I bet you are, Stasya thought to herself, biting her tongue as she looked away.

Gently pulling out the needle, Kara pressed a small cotton ball to the pinprick, holding it in place with a band-aid. "There we go, all done. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Placing the syringe of blood into her kit, she sat down and smiled again. "That's it. Unless you have any other questions you'd like answered now, you can head back to your room. I know that you don't know any English, which is going to make it a little hard for you to interact with the others, so as part of our sessions I could teach you. Would you like that?"

Stasya nodded. Being able to communicate with the others was definitely going to be helpful, especially if that Lyra girl needed help again. They'd gotten lucky with the wheelchair announcement and the translator, but Stasya wasn't going to rely on these people unless she absolutely had to. Because Kara was wrong about two things: they were not going to be friends, and Stasya was going to go home.

And when she did, they had better hope that her father hadn't laid so much as a finger on Stasya's baby sister.

The examination was more verbal than Irina would have thought. Esmeralda had began with the basics such as full name and date of birth, and then they had ventured into Irina’s background. The first set of questions were very inoffensive. They held little to no importance in Irina’s eyes, but soon after, Esmeralda began touching deeper subjects such as her parent’s marriage and divorce, along with her relationship with both her dad and mom whether together or apart. Irina had hesitated on a few of them but decided that it would do no harm to tell the truth. If anything, it felt slightly relieving to be able to not carry the burden by herself. Esmeralda had been more than accepting of the stories that Irina told her, and soon enough the testing portion had turned into a psychology session for the young woman. No one had ever listened to her before or care about what kind of pain she was in. Even if this was for research to see how it would affect her mind, she did not care. She poured herself out just to be able to feel her chest lighten up and for her conscience to not feel as guilty.

”You’ve done an amazing job here, Irina. If I can be honest, I was worried that you would be not so forthcoming with the answers. Thank you.” Esmeralda gave Irina a warm smile and reached over to give her shoulder a small squeeze. Irina had merely nodded back to the older woman and looked over to the desk behind her, waiting for the more physical aspect of the session to take place.

”Now, I am not supposed to tell you this because I was told that this didn’t go as planned, but we are allowing a phone call home.” As the older woman spoke, her blue eyes became focused and weary, as if she was expecting a negative reaction from Irina. “What? Oh. What happened? Why aren’t you supposed to tell me that? Technical difficulties happen a lot where I am from.” Irina’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side as confusion made itself present not only in her mind but on her face as well. ”No, it has nothing to do with the technical stuff. It’s just that, we couldn’t get a hold of your mom.” Once again Esmeralda seemed a bit weary. For a second, Irina became even more confused, then quickly she realized what this meant and her green eyes filled with the disappointment and despair that she had felt earlier. “Oh-“ ”If you’d like we can try again here with you in the room?” Esmeralda had quickly interjected, probably trying to right the wrong that she thought they had made. One of many. “Um, no. No, it’s okay. I know where my mom is and she will not be answering. She never does.” Irina’s voice matched what her eyes portrayed as she shook her head ever so slightly. “May I go now?” Her gaze had fallen to the crook of her elbow where a band aide now covered the punctures of the needles. Esmeralda had hesitantly agreed and opened the door for her, speaking to Irina but nothing was heard. The emotions that ran through Irina’s head were far too strong to be ignored this time, and she let them flow freely through her.

Disappointment.

Anger.

Sadness.

Heart break.

Disillusionment.

Then anger, again.

Livid, actually, is how Irina felt. Tears sprang from her eyes and flowed down her cheeks as she thought how easily her mom must have given her up to these people. She probably sold her to them so she could get money and go waste it on alcohol and meth.

’This isn’t a research facility.. This is a mental institution’ Irina thought angrily as she made her way into her room. She sniffled a bit, trying to fix herself as she stepped in front of a mirror. She looked like a mess. A weak mess. Her eyes had become red as well as her cheeks from the anger. Strands of hair stuck to her wet face which caused her to remember the movie The Grudge. “Argh!” Irina quickly raised her hands to her face to wipe off the tears and pull her hair out of her face and up into a pony tail. She wanted to scream and throw everything that she found against glass just to hear the satisfying sound of something breaking. “How!!! The fuck!!! Did I!!! End up here!?!?!” Her voice was shrill as she screamed and walked away from the mirror, her hands balling up into fists as she went on her fit of rage.

Her eyes had caught sight of something that probably would have made her feel like a fool before. Her running shoes lay neatly by the side of her bed, which meant that she had been walking around in her socks the entire time. This didn’t pop into her head though. Irina quickly jumped into action and slid her shoes on before tying them tightly and storming out of the room.

’Esme said there was a gym in here.’

Irina’s eyes darted from sign to sign as she walked quickly down the hall until she found the room she was looking for. In the back of her mind, she had made a mental note that this gym was different from her gym back home. No actual gymnastics materials. It didn’t matter. Irina had bee-lined straight to a single punching bag in the back corner of the room. It didn’t matter to her whether she had gloves or tape on, Irina went ahead and threw the first few punches with everything she had, even a couple of kicks. She needed to not only release the anger that she felt but also feel something else. Anything. As long as it helped her momentarily forget her troubles at home and her current situation.

URIEL ATTICUS - LOCATION: ROOM 8 (URIEL'S ROOM) TO GYM

The blood test passed without incident. Uriel never had any problems with needles. So long as he looked away and focused on something else while a metal tube was stuck into his flesh, he would be fine.

“We believe that your ability is to transmit a sort of wave that alters the amount of pain that an individual feels. We aren’t sure whether your power is affecting the nocireceptors or the somatosensory cortex but I’m sure we'll be able to determine this after some testing.”

Julia’s spiel was met with deadpan.

“I totally understood all of what you just said. Totally.”

Julia laughed and sighed. “I mean we don’t know if you are affecting pain nerves themselves or the part of the brain receiving the pain. We suspect the latter, considering the number you did on your classmates during that test.”

Oh, of course they knew about that. What a shocker.

“Thank you for being so co-operative. Here's your call to your family, as promised.” She handed him a tablet from her bag. Uriel eagerly snatched it.

“Tell me if you need anything, like books or clothes,” she said as she went through the door.

“Oh and one more thing. I hope that you don't plan on doing anything like that mirror stunt during your stay here. You’re a good kid and I don't want to see you get unjustly punished for something stupid.”

Uriel merely grinned.

“Ha, ‘something stupid’. That's what my ex-girlfriend called me all the time.”

Julia smiled exasperatedly and prepared to leave.

“A medical encyclopaedia would be nice! And pyjamas!” he shouted after her.

Julia wordlessly flashed him a thumbs up as she headed out.

Uriel’s expression turned back to neutral, then to nervous as he fiddled with the tablet.

“Help me out here, guys,” Uriel whispered before turning the tablet on. He took some deep breaths to calm his beating heart and slowly eased his face into an easy-going smile as the dial tone rang.

The image on the screen showed his mother in a high class, well-lit space, no doubt the penthouse suite of some fancy European hotel. Which conference were they at again? There were too many to keep track of, and honestly Uriel had stopped caring when he hit the age of thirteen.

“Uriel, honey! Are you ok? Did they hurt you?” the chestnut-haired woman asked frantically.

Uriel laughed, genuinely for once.

“You mean apart from the kidnapping? Yeah, everything’s pretty great. You should see this place, it’s crazy cool!”

They chatted like that for a long while, with the elder Atticus firing off questions about his health and Uriel responding with light-hearted quips. Dad Atticus was at a lunch with investors and unfortunately couldn’t be there (not that he would have contributed much anyway), The subject of special abilities was briefly brought up but immediately dismissed as if there was another silent level of conversation that made it clear that it was not to be mentioned. Yes, everything was fine. It almost felt normal until...

“Haha yeah, I just hope they let me out in time for Christmas. I still owe Uncle Jim that rematch. He won’t be taking the Atticus Air Hockey Champion’s Trophy three years in a row!”

And there it was. As soon as he mentioned being let out, Joanne Nicholson-Atticus’ hearty façade shattered. Her slight flinch was quickly concealed by her public speaking experience as CEO. But Uriel saw it. It was more than just a betrayal. It was the disintegration of any semblance of hope that he had managed to hold on to since his kidnapping. He would not get out of this place, not soon and maybe not ever. He wouldn’t get to laugh with his friends or play a mobster in his school’s musical production or get yelled at for running in the halls. He wouldn’t get to help his buddy Matt serenade his crush to ask her to Formal or get to prank the underclassmen on Muck Up Day. He would never get to truly live. And his parents knew! And they were fine with it! Hurt and outrage seared through his being but were quickly smothered by the numbness he felt in regards to anything referring to his absent parents. In a way...he wasn’t surprised. That was perhaps the worst part.

“Well, I’m sure that if you behave yourself and don’t act like you did when you lost last Christmas, we’ll see you soon enough,” she smiled without a trace of guilt.

Damn liar.

“He totally had it coming, Mum! Plus it was revenge for what he did at Lisa’s baptism that year, not ‘cos I’m a sore loser or anything!” he mock-whined.

This farce was getting tedious to maintain.

“Say, didn't ya have a big speech to give soon? I don't wanna keep you from anything.”

“Oh, I can't believe you actually remembered this time! Yes, it's in a few hours but contacting you was my first priori-”

“You should be practicing now, not talking to me! This is really big for the company!”

“Yes, but-”

“We can always catch up later. You only get to announce this new collaboration once, right?”

Come on, just go already.

She sighed. “I suppose so. You get off easy this time but mark my words, you're gonna tell me all about what you’ve been up to!”

“Alright, alright! See you later.”

He carelessly tossed the tablet onto the bedside table after hanging up and exited the room. He needed a bloody walk. Uriel headed in the opposite direction of the cafeteria this time, seeking to explore the rest of his prison. Huh, now that was a swanky looking gym. Numerous ellipticals and cycling machines were arranged in neat rows. The well lit decor would have made the place a lovely area to work out in on any other day, but now it just reminded him of stark white laboratories and evil scientists. Uriel perused the room, trying to pick a machine that would work him hard enough to quell the loneliness and despair he was trying to ignore again. There was a girl at the back of the room, viciously pounding on a punching bag. She seemed fucking piiiissssseedd.

Heh, I feel ya, sister.

Uriel ignored her as he walked past. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. But then he was struck with that feeling again, the sensations that weren't his own. The feeling blossomed outwards from the girl’s fists. Upon further inspection, he identified her as the upset girl who was in the cafeteria. The angry one at the presentation, well, one of the angry ones. And she was seriously mangling her hands.

“Woah there mate, you’re seriously gonna mangle your hands if you keep going at it like that!”

@wolverbells

Once the rest of the captives went off to meet their coaches, Lyra sat where she was, looking around and feeling awkward. Since Stasya had been taken away, she had no one to help her find her coach. She bit her lip, folding her hands in her lap. She was one of the few people present who was using a wheelchair. Her coach would surely know of her affliction. Perhaps...

"Lyra?"

The man strode over to her once she met his gaze. He was young, and had short, dark hair. He was also fairly attractive. Lyra felt herself blushing as he stopped in front of her, adjusting his glasses before holding out a hand for her to shake. "My name's Nathan," he said, "I'll be your coach."

"Nice to meet you," Lyra said perfunctorily. Nathan moved behind her and began pushing her wheelchair. They traveled in silence, with Lyra staring at her hands, which were folded in her lap. Once they had arrived in the room she'd awoken in, Nathan gently picked her up and set her on the bed.

"I know you mean well," she began, recalling the words she'd come up with on the way here. "But I really think I don't belong here. I'm sick... I don't have any powers." Of course, she didn't believe there were superpowers at all. But it would be far too rude - too needlessly hostile - to call them out on the lie. Better to play along.

"Actually, it's the other way around," said Nathan, taking a chair beside her. "You're not sick - the weakness you've been dealing with your whole life is a manifestation of your power. Our technology doesn't make mistakes. Your strength returns in the dark, right? That's because you have an affinity for darkness. Light, on the other hand, is a sort of weakness of yours."

Lyra bit her lip. "But you're negating our powers somehow, right?" she asked. "So shouldn't I be able to walk around like normal?"

"Some of us thought you would be," said Nathan, frowning. "Others... well, I guess they were right. Whatever your power did to your body, it left some sort of lasting damage."

"So I am sick," said Lyra, struggling to keep her irritation invisible. "I don't see the point in studying this 'power'. It doesn't do me any good; it's just a burden."

"Our devices say otherwise. You should be able to do quite a bit more than you have so far with your ability. Your whole life, the darkness has manipulated you. It should be possible for you to turn the tables."

"Prove it," said Lyra bossily. Then, her cheeks blazed. A lady of her stature was not supposed to behave some boorishly to a man she barely knew!

But Nathan grinned. "All in good time. For now, we have tests to do. At the moment, all that will involve is taking a little of your blood. I trust you've grown accustomed to the process."

Lyra glared, but her out her left arm obediently. As much as she wanted to refuse, she knew that she couldn't stop her captors from doing what they wanted to her. So she would endure the process, as she had a hundred times before.

After fiddling with his instruments, Nathan approached with a needle in hand. Lyra clenched her jaw and shut her eyes, as she always did. It took Nathan an oddly long time to slide the needle into her arm - just when she was about to open her eyes to see what was the matter, that familiar pinch stung her, and shrill sound of surprise escaped her lips. She didn't open her eyes again until the pain was mostly gone, and she felt a bandage being placed over the vein that had been broken.

Restraints had been placed on her ankles, tethering her to the bed.

"How d-"

Nathan held up a hand, smiling a little. "We know you must be scared and worried. We can't have you hurting yourself falling out of bed in a misguided attempt to escape. You'll be safer this way." He pulled a sealed envelop out of his pocket. "You may have noticed that I was already aware of your habit of closing your eyes when you get a shot. I only have that knowledge because someone gave it to me. Someone whose opinion I think you'd value."

He placed the letter on her lap. it was addressed to her in a precise, minimalist handwriting she recognized as her father's.

"I'll be back for you later," said Nathan, making for the door and shutting it behind him. Lyra fumbled with the paper, tearing the envelop open in small motions. Once she extracted the letter, she scanned it over, heart sinking. Once she had digested its bitter contents, she tore it and half and threw it away with all the might she could muster - which propelled it only halfway across the bed. Sobbing dryly, Lyra threw herself backward and stared at the ceiling.

There was no mistaking the author of the letter - everything from its word choice to the structure of the sentences dripped with father's pretentiousness. Yet she didn't want to believe what she had read. There was no way her parents would buy into this superpower nonsense... no way they would leave their only daughter in the hands of an organization she'd never heard of. Yet father told her to do as she was told in his letter. He claimed she would come to thing of her time here as an investment. But she knew better. Father kept everything he valued close to him. If he had placed her here, then he had decided that the best use for his daughter was to be a lab rat.

He was probably one of the organization's backers.

Tears rolled down Lyra's cheeks as she lay helpless on the bed. They had never really cared about her, had they? In their eyes, she was just defective, a liability. For the longest time, she thought their aloofness was born of shame at being unable to help her, but, clearly, she had been wrong.

And, now, she was alone, a prisoner to be tinkered with by some researchers. Lyra clenched her weak fists, tried to focus all her anger into that one motion. Everyone was awful! Everyone was a TRAITOR! And there was nothing - nothing at all! - that she could do about it. If only she really did have superpowers, then perhaps things would be different! She would make them pay - she would kill them all!

Yet she did not. She was nothing but a weak little girl. So she wept, alone, quivering with fear at the question of what would happen next.

Nikolai wanted to argue more with the translator, he understood the Russian government only cared for a select few of its citizens. He grumbled and watched as people went to their assigned coaches, he saw Irina walk off and shrugged it off. If he let on that she was a friend they could use that against him. After some of the coaches left he noticed one woman beaming at him. She was a very short woman. She was plump too, he almost laughed. She was going to be the woman to rein him in. Her brown hair fell in a carefully trimmed bowl around her face which made her seem like an acorn. She held a clip board over her chest and had a light smile on her face, which created dimples in her already red face. Nikolai walked up to her and looked down at her with his arms crossed, she was hardly taller than a 10 year old. The woman's teeth were immaculately white, they looked as if they'd been soaked in bleach.

"Я думаю Вы говорите по-русски?" Nikolai asked grumpily.
(I geuss you speak Russian?)

"Я говорю на многих языках г-н Luzchezke, один из которых происходит на русском языке. Мое имя - Бэки Tomkins, я буду Ваш автобус и будет проводить тесты на вашем основных показателей жизнедеятельности." She said in flawless Russian.
(I speak many languages Mr. Luzchezke, one of which happens to be Russian. My name is Doctor Becky Tomkins, I'll be your coach and will conduct tests on your vitals.)

Nikolai eyed the woman, she was happy for whatever reason. And her happiness made him even more grumpy. She gestured for him to follower her and the pair exited the auditorium and walked to the testing rooms. Nikolai was told to sit and did as he was told. He was exhausted, and undoubtedly jet-lagged. His ribs still hurt and he had a headache that could warrant being sedated. Quickly the idea of being sedated was pushed out of his mind, he didnt want to be a government plaything. He watched as the doctor prepared a needle and asked for his arm. He was reluctant to give it to her then she rolled a stool over and sat in it. She grabbed his arm and he ripped it away from her, he sat up and readied to give her a fight. She simply had a disappointment look on her face.

"Я знаю вы не боитесь игл, с тем чтобы дать мне руку, я не собираюсь к Вам больно." She spoke, her tone like she was addressing a child.
(I know you're not afraid of needles so give me your arm, I'm not going to hurt you.)

Nikolai sighed and set his arm at his side with the elbow pit up. She wiped his skin with a small cotton square and inserted the needle, he didnt have a problem with it but it was annoying to be handled like a child. After she finished drawing blood she grabbed her clipboard, she proceeded to ask him a set of questions.

"If you dont mind I think you can answer these questions in English?" She asked with a kind smile, like a mother trying to urge her child to practice tying his shoes.

"Fine," Nikolai said looking at the woman dead on, his eyes conveyed murderous intent.

"I know your name is Nikolai Luzchezke, given to you by the Luzchezke Orphanage. Green eyes, black hair, 5 foot 10 inches. Decorated in many tattoos." She put a disapproving tone behind her last sentence, "With a lack of medical history it's difficult to guess what triggered your powers."

She marked some boxes on her clip board then whipped her head up, "I almost forgot you get a phone call!"

Nikolai looked at her angrily. He was fighting the urge to shout in her face but kept quiet, letting his eyes convey the obvious distaste he had for her. She understood the problem a moment later and cleared her throat. She finished up her questioning and leaned back on her stool.

"So do you have any questions for me?" She asked.

"How do you expect to coach this?" Nikolai said putting a hand to his chest, "It just happens, no control. No sign before happening, I just am here then there."

"I intend on testing your responses to various things, seeing if emotions, or stimulus can get your ability to trigger. Then from there we can narrow it down to an exact response and have it so you can control it. Anything else?"

Nikolai shook his head and was ushered back to his quarters, room 9. He walked inside, not bothering to lock the door, it was a very nice room. Nicer than any room he'd ever stayed in, he knew deep down it wasnt his home but he liked it. It was clean and smelled nice. He looked around and tried to see if any of his things had been brought here as well. Nothing. He was going to need some clothing, he and his current clothes hadnt been washed in three days. He shrugged off his leather vest and then tossed it onto the bed. He pulled off his boots and then his jeans and boxers before walking into the bathroom. He was confused mildly by the modern style shower handle then found a way to make the water heat up. He liked having a steamy shower, it was the only way to get the gel out of his hair. As he waited for the shower to reach his desired heat he looked at himself in the mirror, muscular but not ripped. He flexed his chest and watched as the tattoos on his chest bulged. He especially liked the tattoo in the center of his chest, it was a cartoon heart with a dagger through it. Ribbons encircled it and they read 'Love is Hell'. The dagger itself had the name 'Alicia' written on the blade. He leaned close to the mirror and checked on his dragons, the left one only being recently finished with the skin still somewhat raw. He saw steam crowding around the mirror and climbed into the shower, the hot water hit his skin and he smiled. He began singing a slow Russian folk song, 'Gori, gori moya zvezda' written by Ivan Rebroff. The song required a loud voice but he didnt mind being loud, this was the only song he knew that could be sung without music. He sang loud and proudly as his mohawk was taken down around his head. Falling victim to the water and steam it slowly became a stream of hair running down the side of his head.

From his room Arthur could hear the sounds of others returning to their rooms, it was clear the first session was to be a short introductory one. While he had his concerns, and the involvement of his father made him even more wary, he knew that the inmates' best option was to carry on cooperating with their captors. That was, at least, until another option presented itself. It was a tempting idea to let their powers develop and then try and break out but the scientists had the nullifier; it wouldn't go as well as some had tried to imply earlier.

And they have cameras everywhere, I bet. It'll be difficult to coordinate with the others to surprise them. I guess it's just the status quo for now.

Arthur rolled his shoulders, feeling the itch to exercise as he often did when unsure where to go next. For him it was like preparing for the unexpected, keeping in the best physical condition he could so that he was ready for anything. However, he didn't feel like going to the gym. He needed time to think and pumping weights was pretty exhausting and wouldn't give him the time.

There was a pool, wasn't there?

As he suspected, the wardrobe in the room contained a change of clothes, not his own but in a similar style (it was mildly creepy to what extent they had researched the inmates) but no swimming shorts. It seemed unusual for the place, so well thought out, not to have clothes for the pool so he ventured that way anyway and found locker rooms inside, one for men and one for women. The lockers were labelled and had towels, swimming shorts and goggles inside.

After a quick change and a brief shower he ventured into the pool, feeling the warmth of the heated water filling up the room. No one else was there yet but each person coped with their stress in different ways; it wouldn't surprise him to find some staying in their rooms while others went to the games room.

Arthur dived into the pool and began swimming lengths, letting his mind go blank as he focussed on stroke after stroke, losing himself in the simple joy of physical exertion.

---

---

Myriam watched with fear, confusion, curiosity and a slight anger as the others went willingly with their coaches. She wasn't angry about them going with these people, she would obey too! Esepcially after seeing that one girl being taken away after yelling something to the people in Russian. She was scared. But the arms around her waist made it slightly better. She held Mayuri in her arms as she young girl held onto her. She didn't want to let her go, she feared that she would break apart if she had no one to hold onto.

But the moment came soon in which she had to let the girl go. And surprisngly, Mayuri seemed to either recognise the woman that appreached her or see something in her that reminded her of something or someone. Her face looked as though she was seeing a ghost and for a moment Myriam wanted to pull her behind her and protect her with her whole body. But then Mayuri already stood up and let go of her waist, leaving Myriam to feel cold without the warmth of her arms and very scared, and went willingly and with an expecting look on her face with the stranger. Of course Myriam had seen the others go with them without blinking an eye too, but she was still confused on why Mayuri would seem so... so... not-scared all of a sudden. The blonde felt very alone and wished she could dive under water once again. When the girl turned to wave to her though, it put a smile onto her face. She waved back and watched her leave. She would see her again, she was sure of it.

One by one the teenagers were taken away and no one made a scene for it. Soon enough her name was called out. "Myriam Riley Cassedy?" The female voice sounded melodic in a weird way. She couldn't really tell what it was. It had a feeling of hot summer sun, but strangly enough paired with the noise a campire made inthe silence of a dead night.
When Myriam looked to see who the voice belonged to she saw a rather young woman - she couldn't have been older than 27? or 29 maybe? - who looked somewhat ?Latina. She had a slightly darker skin, but Myriam couldn't tell where she could be from. Not that it mattered. The woman had her brown hair in a messy bun, strays of hair were hanging in her face but it didn't seem to bother her. She wore normal jeans and a t-shirt with a light jacket thrown over it. She didn't seem to care for a labcoat. In her hand she was holding a clipboard and was playing with a pen, making it click every now and then while waiting for Myriam to stand up. Her fingers made her seem impatient, the way she clicked the pen and held onto the clipboard as though she couldn't wait to fill it out and ask her questions, but her face was showing nothing but patience.

Myriam stood up off her seat without really noticing what she was doing. Step by step she went down the rows of chairs and walked towards the woman. "Please follow me, Myriam", she said and offered her a small smile before turning and making her way out of the auditorium. Myriam followed like a lost puppy.

They walked through the hallways and Myriam didn't even consider remembering the way, she was way too confused with the effect the woman seemed to have on her. After what felt like twenty minutes - but really only was two - she opened a door and walking inside with the girl. It was looking like some kind of office, but not too business like. There was a wooden desk with a tablet lying on it and a chair behind it. Papers where spread all over it, pencil were lying carelessly on the edge and a mug half full with what could have been coffee stood on a thick book. There were two other chairs in the room; armchairs in a cream color standing a little closer to the wall, half-way facing each other and half-way being turned to face the middle of the room. There was a wooden drawer behind the table and chair, three metallic cupboards with frosted-glass-doors sported one of the four walls and showed tiny locks on them that clearly needed a key for opening.

"Please sit." The woman waved her hand at one of the two armchairs and Myriam sat in the one that was closer to the door. The woman sat in the other one, crossed her legs and looked at her with a smile. "Myriam, it is nice to meet you." The campfire whisper beneath the obvious hot summer sun tone was irritating her. Why was this woman feeling so odd to her? "My name is Vera Solano." Myriam nodded. "I am here to help you get through this all. I get that this really sucks for all of you and none of is in the slightest way easy. I want you to know that you can always come to me with concerns or questions." No it was anything else but easy. Myriam stayed silent. "I will be your coach, helping you understand what is going on and how to gain control over your special ability."

"I don't have an ability." Myriam looked at her seriously. "I get that you heard that a lot and probably have a monologue prepared for it. But I don't wanna hear it. In fact, I don't wanna hear any of it. Just leave me alone." She wanted nothing more than to curl up in the chair and hide her face. She didn't feel well at all sitting here. Or even better, dive under water and stay there until her head was free again.

"You're right, I do get that answer a lot. And every time I say the same thing. You do have an ability, Myriam. And we will both figure it all out. For now, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Vera's voice suddenly didn't feel like a summer sun anymore. It was more of a wave... a wave that was coming into the shore and hitting her legs with coldness while she stood in the ocean in the autumn. In a good, relaxing way it was cold and stung on her skin. Myriam nodded. She didn't wanna talk about anything.

"There are some basic things we need to go over, but it is nothing hard. Just some information." She turned to her clipboard and read the facts about Myriam, such as her full name, date of birth, birth place, gender, parent's names. Myriam only nodded at all of it, it was all correct. Then the woman put her clipboard aside. "That was all we need to do. If you would allow me, I would take a blood sample, just to be on the safe side." But Myriam shook her head. She didn't want this woman to touch her right now or insert a needle and take blood. She didn't want all this. Vera nodded at her. "I have to ask you something, Myriam. It's not gonna be easy." Her voice was full of empathy and Myriam braced herself for what was to come. She looked at her and silently gave her permission to ask. "Have you seen a doctor in regarding of what happened?"

How... How could she know? She didn't tell anyone!! She didn't even say it out loud! She didn't even talk to anyone about anything since... Well she did after she was kidnapped, but not about it! Myriam felt tears in her eyes and she started to shake slightly.

"It's okay." Another wave hit her bare legs as she stood in the cold ocean water. "Nothing will happen to you here. I would like to check you out physically after what happened to you. We don't have to do it now, though I will have to recommend it. The sooner, the better. I will not force it on you. You are free to go for now. Please mentally prepare for the procedure, we will have to do it. And next time, I would like to draw some blood from you as well. Okay?" She waited a while but Myriam did not give an answer. She was still shaking. "If you need anything, contact me. For now, you have a call. In your room lies a device for a video chat with your father, if you want to accept it just slide the lock screen and it will do the call for you."

They sat a while in silent. Vera looking at Myriam with absolutely no judgement in her eyes and Myriam shaking and feeling miserable. After a long while the girl asked to go to her room and Vera showed her the way, bringing her all the way up to her room door. She felt grateful for that. Myriam would have never managed to find the way herself, even if the hallway would have been only a corner away.
After arriving in her room, Myriam had sat on the bed, feeling too weak to stand. She had taken the tablet onto her lap and imagined her father's face appearing on the now black screen. His voice sounding through the speaker-slot of the device. Thirty minutes she sat there and looked at the screen, before she finally put it down and left her room. She followed the way she had walked the first time she had left her room in this facility and landed in the indoor pool room like she did before the meeting in the auditorium had started.

Myriam had a tunnel vision, she could not see anything or even hear anyhting at her current state, she only saw the water so silent and inviting. She took straight towards it, walking slowly but directly at the pool. Not a second did it cross her mind that there could be a swimsuit or bikini for her somewhere, not a second did it cross her mind that she could possibly change here somewhere, and not even did it cross her mind that someone else might be here or might come in and see her. For right now, she only saw the water.

The blonde slided off the edge and right into the water, clothes still on, shoes still on, and went underneath, sinking slowly as she just didn't move. Her eyes closed, her long blonde hair floating around her face. And finally she was where she longed to be ever since she woke up. Underneath the water. With no air to breathe. No thoguhts to think. No decisions to make. And there she stayed for a relatively long while without coming up.

Slowly padding through the hallway, Stasya kept a sharp eye out for the other teens, her senses straining. Thus far, she hadn’t encountered anyone, which was just fine with her. She’d gotten enough stares at her scales from them in the auditorium. Kara hadn’t acted like she had noticed them, but then she worked for them; she’d probably seen things like this before.

As she continued creeping, she took note of her surroundings. In all honesty, it was a very nice looking place, like one of those fancy hotels that Stasya had seen from the outside but never been in. It was a place that Natali would have liked to have seen. Unfortunately, just because a cage was pretty to look at doesn’t change the fact that it was still a cage. Right now, however, she just wanted to go back to her room, shower, and then sleep. Then she could start thinking about how she was going to get out of her and back home.

As she entered the hallway with all the rooms, she faintly heard someone crying through one of the doors. If her memory was correct, this was around where her room had been, but the crying wasn’t on that side.

Recalling only a few hours(?) ago, she stopped. Lyra? Was the little girl back in her room? Had she been hurt? Creeping closer, she pressed her ear to one of the doors. Yes, there was definitely somebody crying inside. Stasya bit her lip, then gently knocked on the door before opening it a crack and hesitantly sticking her head in. Hopefully she wouldn’t scare the girl this time. “Lyra?” she cautiously asked, the name thick and unfamiliar on her tongue, “С тобой все в порядке? Почему ты опять плачешь? (Are you alright? Why are you crying again?)”

CHRISTIAN
Auditorium/Gym

Christian opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when the voice sounded throughout the halls. He froze for a second, and his face twisted in confusion. A loud buzz could be heard a couple corridors down, and they were instructed to make their way toward the source of the noise.

He followed the girl who had been following him into the auditorium, and took a seat next to her. He stayed quiet and scanned the room, looking at the kids who had already taken seats, and then at the last few stragglers who were just barely making their way in. He turned to say something to the girl next to him, but before he could say anything, he noticed some people enter the auditorium. The two most noticeable of three were about the age of teachers, and both were fairly attractive. He couldn’t help but crack the tiniest of smiles at the thought of his classmates gushing over both of them had they been substitute teachers at his school.

The man began distributing headsets to a select few, and when he was finished, the woman started talking. Immediately, confusion and anxiety made itself abundant in Christian. She began talking about powers, and how they had been kidnapped because of them. He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip. There was no way he belonged here. He didn’t have powers. He would have said that they didn’t exist, but the disappearance of that kid had obviously proved differently.

His attention was drawn to the screen when he saw his face. A number flashed on the screen. 14. That was his room number.
When the speaker asked for questions, Christian began to raise his hand, but stopped when she called on someone else. He slowly started to drown out the questions and continued to bring his mind back to the powers. There was no way he was supposed to be here. He didn’t have powers. Most of these kids had obvious powers, and the ones that didn’t show anything could be anything, but he didn’t.
Christian snapped out of his thoughts after a kid had started something with a couple of the guards. She screamed in a different language, and was eventually sedated.

After the situation, the woman at the front began speaking again, and informed the other students that they would be assigned coaches. After she had finished speaking, the seemingly bigger scientist of the group made his way towards Christian. He pointed at him and motioned for him to meet him at the end of the row. He turned to Lucie, gave her a small face, and then got up and made his way over to the scientist.

The scientist extended a hand and gave Christian a smile. It seemed to be sincere, but to Christian, it was very uninviting. Christian offered his hand and shook the scientist’s. They both sat down in the available seats, and the scientist began speaking.

“Hello. My name is Jonathan. I am your coach. I have had experience with your kind of power before. I have wo—“

“See,” Christian interrupted Jonathan and shook his head. “I think you’re mistaken. I think the lady in the front is mistaken. I think everyone in this place is mistaken. I don’t have powers. I am just a regular kid!”

Jonathan stared at the boy, took in a deep breath and continued.

“You have powers. According to my charts, you have super strength. Why do you think you were fine after the crash? Why do you think you’re able to lift double of what you weigh? I was assigned to you because I have worked in a private facility that has helped others with your ability. At some point, I am going to take you to a training room close to the gym, and we will begin assessing the extent of your abilities. But first, I am going to take a sample of your blood and send you on your way. When I need you, I will get you. ”

With that, Jonathan pulled out a small needle, a couple of vials, and an elastic band. Silently, he wrapped the band tightly around Christian’s arm. He picked up the needle, attached the first vial and pressed it against Christian’s skin. With some amount of effort, and a small look of surprise, Jonathan was able to insert the needle and collect the two blood samples needed. Once Jonathan pulled out the needle, he placed a bandage over the entry point and nodded.

“All set. You can go on your way.”

Christian stood up and walked past Jonathan, not bothering to turn back and see if the girl he had come in with was still there; he had too much on his mind, and the only thing he wanted to do was to work off the feelings that came with this realization.

After what seemed like forever, the young man found himself at the gym. He didn’t bother changing out of his clothes into workout clothes (he actually didn’t bother to check to see if there was any). He noticed a couple of figures upon entering the gym, and he managed a low hello before making his way toward one of the benches. He put plate after plate, and when there was enough weight, he settled down and began banging out as many reps as he could before exhausting himself.

@wolverbells@banjoanjo

The events at the auditorium had passed away in a confusing blur; all sense having fled through the metaphorical window somewhere between 'you all have powers’ and 'we kidnapped you for your own good’. It all seemed like a really bad dream - it wasn't, she'd checked - or a harebrained plot for a science fiction movie. Chaos had erupted and a girl had had to be sedated. A girl who looked like something out of that weird hybrid argonian mod she had seen for Skyrim. And then there were the adults. The kidnappers, as Lucie secretly called them. They claimed to be some sort of government approved organization who were looking to help control these powers. Crashing a car into someone or hijacking a taxi and jabbing them with a needle was all part of this helpful plan, apparently. Though the most baffling of all was the news that their parents had been notified; and had consented. That had stunned her, halting her thoughts for moment before kicking up like a dozen flurries in the wind.

While she'd been too dumbfounded to utter a word, to protest that she didn't have any powers, she found herself being assigned to a mentor who would no doubt help her through this extremely troubling time. Christian had been led away by someone as well, much to the girl's dismay.

“Hello, Lucie. I’m Dr. Alice White. I look forward to working with you.”

A stunningly beautiful woman was smiling at her, a perfectly manicured hand extended in greeting.

Do these people hire from a modeling agency or something?

Lucie found herself standing up, though she made no move to accept the handshake or make any form of reply. Social niceties could be skipped, considering the circumstances. At her full height, she was taller than Ms. White and therefore could look down on her; something that gave her a vengeful little burst of satisfaction.

“You can call me Alice, if you like. Would you prefer to converse in English or French? I'm fine with whichever makes you feel more comfortable.” The woman continued as if Lucie hadn't just so rudely ignored her friendly greeting. “Please follow me. This won't take long.”

“I think you're mistaken.” Lucie somehow managed to say despite her throat having suddenly gone dry. “I don't have any powers. I'm normal.”

She was a perfectly normal girl and she wanted to go back to her perfectly normal life that revolved around playing video games all day and disapproving of people. It was a wonderful life. A perfect life, she now convinced herself.

Slender fingers curled in on themselves, the black lacquered nails scratching at her gloves in the few seconds it took for the woman to answer.

“Your doubts are completely understandable and quite reasonable.” Alice began gently, “However, we have been extremely thorough with our analysis and are one hundred percent certain of the results. You do have latent abilities. For what it's worth, I'm sorry.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, pushing out the breath she'd been holding in. The woman, Alice, wasn't acting like Lucie was the lucky winner of a spectacular prize; that she was some amazingly special snowflake and being in this situation was somehow a good thing. Anger and quailing at the injustice of it all was difficult to maintain in the face of it. It would have been easier if that weren't the case. It was always easier to be angry.

“I would still like to see some proof.”

“Of course. We can do so at our session.” Alice was quick to agree and began to lead the way.

“English. I'd prefer English.” Lucie answered in reply to the woman's previous query.

She didn't want to converse with this woman in her native language, much as it would have been nice to be able to. The familiarity that would no doubt spring forth wasn't something she was keen on establishing here.

“Here we are.” Alice announced once they had stopped in front of a door with the number 12 on it. “I figured you might want to change into normal clothes before we begin.”

Nodding her agreement, Lucie stepped inside and realized it was the very same room she had woken up in. The wig was still lying rumpled on the bed from when she had tossed it. After hanging up her costume with more care this time, she took a quick shower, not caring that it wasn't polite to make Alice wait. Clothes hung neatly in the closet, eerily similar to the way she preferred to arrange hers. What was even creepier, she noted, was that the clothes were of the brands and styles she favored. She began to wonder just how much these people knew, and for how long she had been studied.

“All done?” Alice asked pleasantly once Lucie stepped out, no hint of impatience at having been made to wait.

“Your Morrigan cosplay was very well done. It was nice to see her original outfit rather than the fancy ball gown she's now known for, lovely as it was.”

“Thank you. I did plan on putting together her ball gown as well. It's too beautiful to pass on.” Lucie volunteered the information before realizing that she was having a normal, even pleasant conversation about a subject she liked. This woman was sneaky, she decided right then and there.

The glare she shot was lost on Alice, as the woman only smiled knowingly.

They arrived at another room and the session concluded without much fanfare. It was surprisingly brief and very professional. Lucie had been shown some charts and numbers that proved she held some sort of power within herself. The hope she had secretly been harboring was almost snuffed out like a lonesome candle. Almost, but not quite. The science could very well have been faked. Once the results from the blood test arrived, she was told that she would see more proof, if she liked.

She was also told that she would be able to use the phone in her room to contact her aunt. Lucie jumped at the chance but then cooled her excitement as she realized that Francesca would still be at work. She would have to wait a couple more hours until they could talk. Stomach tying itself into complicated knots from the nervousness, she pondered how to pass the time. Sitting in her room by herself would only prolong the wait and probably drive her insane. Perhaps she could see what her fellow inmates were like.

Even if she wasn't going to be staying here long.

How long had Irina been pounding away at the punching bag now? Few minutes? More than fifteen? It had surely been longer than she thought since she had now built up a sweat. She could feel the beads of perspiration trickle down her forehead, through her brow and down the bridge of her nose, as well as on the sides of her face. By now she had nearly gotten rid of the majority of her anger. She had focused so hard on punching the object in front of her that her mind had gone blank. She hadn’t even focused on the pain that was radiating off of her hands until she stopped.

“What?” Irina looked up slightly confused as she let her hands fall to her sides and looked at the young man that had spoken to her. Irina’s green eyes simply gave him a blank stare as she tried to recollect her thoughts and figure what he meant by that.

As if on cue to what the young man meant, and to what Irina was trying to figure out, her hands began to sting in a horrible way. She looked down at the same time that she lifted her hands so that she could examine her fists. She had punched the bag so hard and for so long that the skin on her knuckles had opened up to reveal what was underneath and they had began to bleed out. “Oh… I like pain.. It helps with whatever is wrong in my head.” It was a poor explanation but it was the best one the young woman could offer. She smiled a bit at the teenager and made her way over to a small area where there were towels as well as disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizer in some shelves. The bleeding would stop eventually.

As Irina began to clean up her small wounds, she heard someone else walk in and she returned the greeting to the other guy that was setting up a bench press. “I don’t think my hands are that big of a deal,” she spoke again to the previous guy as she looked over at the amount of weights stacked against each other. “If he continues with this, he’s going to fuck up and kill himself.”

Irina wanted to ask if he needed a spotter. Even if she couldn’t lift half of the weight that he was lifting, she was still concerned that he might end up getting hurt while they were in there. She even went as far as to take a few steps towards the teenager but something stopped her.

Voices. Hushed whispers filling her head with the same effect as if someone was raising the volume on a TV. “It’s off..” Irina’s voice was quiet as she realized that the nullifier had been turned off. She turned quickly towards the door as she heard more thoughts jumbled up in one certain spot. “I think something is going on out there.” By now the young Spanish woman was speaking aloud to herself, acknowledging everything that she heard in her head.

Without really acknowledging the two boys that were in the gym with her, Irina began to walk out of the room and into the hallway. The voices in her head were taking over her attention and actions as she found herself walking down towards the other rooms where she heard the most prominent thoughts.

On his fifteen length Arthur found his mind clearing of doubts and side matters; even the merest worry fading and allowing him to think objectively. He found exercise usually helped him with this, especially cardio activities like swimming and the warmth of the water and the gentle movement of it around him helped to soothe one's soul. Upon the sixtieth length he vaguely caught sight of another person in the pool, probably one of the other inmates, but he was too in his zone to pause and carried on, letting his mind go completely clear and to rest from the exertions of the day.

It was ten lengths after that, as he switched strokes to breast stroke from his tireless front crawl to give other muscles a time to work, that he noticed the figure under the water. He hadn't noticed her fall into the pool and she was so still on the bottom of the pool he thought for a moment she was just staying under as long as she could, as one often would in a pool when not simply swimming.

She's... drowning?

He could think of nothing else and the lack of movement from the figure only helped him draw that conclusion. For a moment he considered whether to help or not. If they were deliberately drowning, as would be understandable in this situation, should he not respect their wish and leave them to it? But then, if they were not doing so deliberately, that would weigh upon him. Guilt was not something he felt often but in this circumstances he suspected it might, for a short time anyway. More importantly, they all needed to keep going to have any chance of getting out and this person might prove useful later on.

"I better help then." He took a slightly deeper breath and dived swiftly down, his strong limbs propelling him down to the girl in no time. He recognised her from the auditorium but could not recall her name, they hadn't exactly spoken up until now. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful but he nevertheless wrapped a powerful arm around her and pushed off of the swimming pool floor. They burst up above the surface of the water and Arthur swam them both to the edge of the pool before heaving the girl, light even with her soaking wet clothes, onto dry land.

Pulling himself up after her, Arthur saw the movement of her chest signalling that she was breathing. With a sigh he sat down, rubbing his forehead with finger and thumb. He tried for a light comment rather than go in assuming the girl was attempting to kill herself as it was now clear that she had been deliberately staying at the bottom of the pool.

"Seriously, if you're going to just lie at the bottom of the pool then at least put on some swimming gear. Anyone would think you were trying to drown yourself." He laughed as unexpected relief poured into him; it was a pleasant feeling.

"I'm Arthur. What do they call you, Miss Mermaid?"

Nicely furnished as it was, the room provided nothing to take her mind off of the impending call. Pacing around really wasn't helping calm her nerves, surprisingly enough. Her earlier thought about going to see what the rest of them were up to seemed like the best plan. After ducking into the bathroom for a quick glance at the mirror to ascertain that everything was in order, Lucie was as ready as she would ever be to face her fellow inmates.

The door to her room shut behind her with a satisfying click and she strolled off into the hallway, trying her best to look like she knew exactly what she was up to. However, this was easier said than done for someone who barely knew the layout of the place and currently felt extremely awkward.

Even so, her feet managed to lead her to the pool, of all places.

A girl - the foreigner who'd had a shouting match with the tattooed guy earlier, she recalled - seemed to have had the same idea as herself. Lucie wasn't sure of the girl’s name but had the vague notion that it was something exotic. She had been quite outspoken back at the auditorium, unlike Lucie who had sat there too stunned to say much of anything. As interesting a character as this girl undoubtedly was, Lucie's attention was called towards the spectacle unfolding in the pool room.

A blond guy had rescued someone who'd tried to drown herself, was what she pieced together from the situation.

Silvery eyes widening in recognition, the French girl raised a disapproving brow. This girl, the drownee, had been escorted to the auditorium along with a couple of others. It wasn't a jump of logic to assume that had been because she'd been uncooperative or done something stupid then as well. Whatever the case was, she had a few choice words for this girl.

“If it is attention you seek, you should try screaming out loud the next time.” Lucie leaned down an announced in a tone that implied she was imparting the greatest of wisdoms.

“Or perhaps sing opera at the top of your lungs.” She continued without missing a beat, going so far as to imitate an opera singer in a long and drawn out note.

“See? Much more pleasant and less troublesome for everyone involved.”

It was then that she decided to shift her attention towards the rescuer - who she noticed was currently shirtless, as befitting someone who'd been swimming only moments prior. Clearly the only thing left to do in the situation was to very exaggeratedly check the hot guy out and see if he blushed.

And so she did.

Lucie crossed her arms across her chest and smirked, waiting to see how the events unfolded from then on.

@Wolverbells @Jinxer @KahleenCuthald

'Are you serious right now?' Was all Irina could think as her legs carried her into the pool room where everyone's thoughts practically screamed at her. 'Shut up!' She wished she could yell at them.

Irina walked in at the same time that another young woman did. A red head that should've stuck out earlier, but didn't due to Irina being so unbelievably pissed. She was dressed differently than everyone else. Why? Irina made a mental note to ask her about it later. Right now her attention was caught by a shirtless guy and a fully dressed and soaked female. Their thoughts all became a muddled cluster-fuck as Irina walked up to them and stopped next to the fiery red head. She kept quiet as the listened, her eyes widened as she heard the remarks come out of the French girl. At least she sounded French. If Irina didn't have so many emotions running around inside of her, she might have even laughed, but now she just stood, her face portraying nothing but a sort of angry look. It wasn't until the French girl was finished speaking that Irina spoke up, her tone sounding slightly annoyed but mostly full of sarcasm to match the red head. "Or.... you could have just let her die." Her eyes made contact with the red headed woman and she smirked a bit at her before turning to look down at the drenched girl and then the young man whom she had heard in her mind introducing himself as Arthur. He wasn't introducing himself to Irina, but to the girl he had presumably saved. "You guys think very loud, did you know?"

How long had she laid there? Time was back to being as meaningless as it was when she first opened her eyes. Was it day or night? Not that it mattered. Mara could feel herself resigning to the hand fate had dealt. That numbness that left her body feeling cold and heavy. She was no stranger to this feeling. When her father had died she wore it like a cloak as she repressed the ache that radiated from her core.

Eyes flitted around the room. Her breathing echoing in the deafening silence. If she kept laying here she was sure she'd be crushed beneath it. Mara forced herself out of her bed once again. Shuffling around the sparse room she poked around in the drawers. Clothes were folded and put away neatly. Shades of black and grey was oddly befitting to her surroundings. The fact that they were nearly spot on with her wardrobe at home didn't even register at this point. They had been watching her long enough that she was sure they knew every aspect of her life, probably better than she did.

With deft hands she slid her blemished sun dress from her shoulders. The loose fabric pooled around her feet, still clad in her scuffed dress shoes.

Mara simply stepped away from the fabric, leaving it there for someone else to deal with, as she plucked a pair of soft black pants from the drawer. The room was fridged against her skin as she kicked off her beloved shoes and slid on the new pair of pants. They clung to her slender form and tapered off around her ankles. Mara made an annoyed sound; for all the effort they put into researching they should've known that she was not a big fan of the skinny leg fad that seemed to be raging like a wildfire in the fashion world.

Hastily she nabbed a simple looking white shirt. Mara slid it over her head while her fingers pinched and pulled the fabric until it settled. The garment slid off to one side, exposing her shoulder, and once again Mara felt a slight twinge of annoyance. They may of gotten the color scheme right but the style, not so much.

Stepping into her bathroom she came face-to-face with the stranger that peered back at her with deadend eyes. Most of her make up she had scrubbed off in Mayrui's room though still a bit remained around her eyes. Wetting her fingertips she washed off the dried tears. Ignoring the fact her face was still tinged pink and puffy from earlier.

Now what?

As if answering her question a rumble called out from her belly. 'Food.' Even her thoughts felt stale in her head.

She quickly stepped back out into the hall. They had went to the cafeteria earlier but didn't stay. Her companion at the time anxious to be rid of the throng of teens that had collected there. Idly she wondered if she would come across anyone when her thoughts were abruptly interrupted. A male voice swelled and poured out into the hall. Singing?

Who in the hell was singing?

She was baffled but there was a tiniest hint of a smile creeping across her face. The words were thick and strange. She recognized it as the same as the scaled girl in the auditorium had been shouting before they carried her away. A cold chill danced down her spine. She felt for her. Understanding her anger and fear. The fact the guards had simply removed her left Mara with an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

The singing no longer brought her amusement. Instead Mara quickened her pace and hurried past his door.

In fact she had broken out into a full sprint. Her bare feet thudding against the hard floor as she slid into the cafeteria. 'You're acting crazy.' her inner voice chided as she slowed to catch her breath.

It didn't seem like anyone was here at the moment. Picking her way over to the vending machines Mara wearily looked over her choices. Nothing looked particularly appealing but the rumbling in her stomach had now picked up and she needed to appease it. Quickly pressing a button she picked a simple bag of pretzels.

Collecting her snack she surveyed the empty room. The others would surely migrate here eventually and while part of wanted to be surrounded by others who understood she wasn't sure if she was ready.

Stepping back into the hallway she read the sign once more.

'A game room?'

That sounded interesting. She made her way back down the corridor, mindlessly eating her snack, as she came across the scaled girl from before. Mara hesitated as she shot her a small smile. Inside she was relieved that she seemed to be OK. Mara wasn't sure if she should say hi. Instead she opted to stand there awkwardly before giving the girl a friendly wave and rushing past. Heat crept up and colored her face, she should've asked if she was OK at least though Mara wasn't sure if the girl would've understood her. Either way she couldn't force herself to go back at this point.

Hurrdily she found her way to the game room. Mara was impressed as she took in the lushly decorated room. The carpet felt good beneath her feet as she made her way to a pool table. Nova's parents actually had one in their basement and Nova was quick to dominate Mara at the game.

Setting aside her half empty bag of snacks she moved to set up the pool balls and select a pool stick off its rack.

Like with Nova's the table was it was a smidge too tall for her; as she stood on her tippy toes and pressed into the table to line up her shot. CRACK. The sound was sharp as the cue ball slammed into the neatly arranged stack. It felt good to do something familiar and Mara felt her body relax. A crack in her numbness had formed as she shifted around the table, lining up her shots and trying to get the balls into the desired pockets.

Music had began to seep it's way into her head. Maybe it was the small joy she had felt in the hallway earlier but she couldn't shake it. Quickly she found herself swaying softly as her lips mouthed invisible words she lost herself in her game.

"I could pray and trick with a double tongue, but the only fool here's me, I choose the way to go, but the road won't set me free," her voice was soft and hushed. Mara was by no means an excellent singer but she could at least hit the needed notes. Her voice trailed off as she took another shot and missed. " This day will die tonight and there ain't no exception. Why should I wait for nothing to wait for. I won't cry for my solitude, lay my head and dream of you. And hope that you'll come knocking on my door and maybe tomorrow is a better day."

Now her voice was bright and loud as she continued her funny dance around the room. Stopping to grab a pretzel here and there. It was the first time she throughly felt herself feel anything but sorrow and anger since she had woke up. Basking in the minor distraction of her solitude.