Dear Stranger,

I'm Emma Halwell and I'm fourteen years old. There's a line I always give people when I introduce myself to them- "I'm Emma. Or Em. Either way is fine." It's funny how habits form, isn't it? The smallest routines in our daily life can become unbreakable habits- well, I'd be lying if I said that line was habit. The truth is when I was younger I spent a lot of time practicing that particular phrase- my best friend, Riley, told me that nicknames endeared people to you, and I was hard-pressed to disagree. I always called my sister Val, her name's Valentine... I had nicknames for Riley too, but she preferred it when I didn't use them in public. I always thought that was strange, but I guess it was foreshadowing in its own way. I was always good at picking up on things like foreshadowing and metaphor when it came to books and movies, which made my ignorance to the reality of our relationship all the more ironic. 'Dramatic irony', I think, is the proper term. Anyways, the line. I was never good at talking to people when I was young, so I put a lot of thought into the words I used. I practiced and practiced and practiced, introductions, conversations, everything. Riley would help me, so I guess I'm thankful for that. She'd always tease me though, and I can't really fault her for that. Normal people didn't have to practice things like that, but I've always needed to carefully craft the way I conduct myself. I even do that now, to an extent, although it has gotten easier. I don't feel anxiety creeping up when I'm around my friends, and everyone is my friend. I know, it sounds a little ridiculous, but there aren't a lot of people that dislike me. I guess the one thing I'm good at is making friends, and that's a good thing because I put so much work into it! Really, I'm good at making it look effortless, but it's hard too maintain all those relations. After all, it's natural for friends to fight, so it's easy for things to break apart when you're around so many people. I hate that. I hate drama and I hate confronting people. Ya wanna know what I do to keep away from it? I don't let it happen! That's right, it sounds ridiculous, but drama very simply doesn't exist for me. It's easy to dispel it, and even easier to ignore it. Eventually if you ignore it long enough it festers until that person simply doesn't exist in my sphere anymore or it just disappears.

I know, it doesn't sound like a good solution, but it really is the easiest way.

Anyways, there's this thing I've been thinking about. Well, it was a word. 'Sonder'. It's not a real word, it was just made up by some random blogger, but I kind of like it. I'll tell you what it means: It's the realization that every random person you pass has a life equal in complexity to your own. They all have problems, aspirations, friends, etc. Interesting, even if it is bullshit, right? Everyone has their own story! And that's cool. That's really cool. But, have you ever wondered if you're the main character of your story? What if you're just an NPC in someone else's personal fanfic? You might even be an important part of that story, but it would kind of suck, wouldn't it? To know that there's not really a point to your life besides to serve someone else's? I used to think that was my status, but I've kind of changed my thinking on the matter.

I like to go out on walks ever night. Like, late at night. If I had to go to sleep early I would start at six and be back at nine. If I could get away with it I'd go out near midnight and wander for however long I felt like it. There's this big stretch of woods by my step-dad's house that I'd explore for hours and hours. It gives me a chance to think, decompress, usually listen to some music off my phone- it's a good time, I'd recommend walking out at night with some good music if you get the chance. You get to look up at the stars and think about you place in the universe, y'know? It was in those woods where I became convinced that I wasn't just a side character. I'm the main character of my story. I deserve that much, don't I? But here's the thing: Even if I want to believe that I'm the main character my life really isn't that interesting! I hate to say it but I'm more or less a typical high school girl. I'm not really remarkable, I don't have any notable talents or interests, I'm smart enough but not genius-status, I'm not strong, or fast, or have 'special' powers. The most notable thing about me is that I'm pretty and I have a lot of friends. It sounds a little self-defeating, I know, but it's not really that bad! Because there's something I realized: What if I'm the main character and my story just hasn't started yet?

That makes sense, right? I think it does. When I'm out in those woods I'll make up these tall tales in my head about how my story is going to start- I think I'm pretty good at making up stories. I've always been good at living in my head when I need to. Anyways, for example, in one of them maybe I'll see DC out in the woods, suddenly awoken from his slumber! And bam, just like that, I'm the 'chosen one'! Eleventh Precursor with the raddest powers. I'd get to save everyone and have sick super powers. I know, it's silly, but I like to imagine fantastic things like that happening to me all the time. Maybe it even could happen? Unlikely, I know, but we live in a crazy world. People have asked my why I like to go out so late at night to wander around in the middle of nowhere- I've given them different answers: Escape, for fun, for health, and so forth. But really, I think that's the answer. I go out in hopes that I'm going to find the start of my life, the real start. Not what I've got going now- that's too petty for a main character, isn't it?

Anyways, I should wrap this one up. I've rambled enough.

Thanks for listening,
Emma Halwell

I remember the first time I visited their house. They always came to see us, or came to see my mom more accurately… I didn’t care for them.

---

She was sitting out on the back porch when he found her.

”Sorry about Kyle, Emma… I know he can be a… difficult kid.” it was clear he was doing his best to be apologetic, but she didn’t really care. Sure, her step-brother to be was kind of a dick but… in response she gave a shrug. ”It’s fine, Frank.” her apathy towards the situation evident in her voice. ”I’ve got Val to watch out for me anyways, she can break your son in half.” she gave a slight laugh, doing her best to sound like she was at least slightly interested in talking to him. A clearly forced chuckle was his reply.

They’d been dating for two months. Her mom and Frank, that was. A strained family history made the situation entirely too awkward for Emma. She knew that Frank wanted to have some sort of relationship with her since he knew that she never really knew her father, but she just… didn’t care. Emma wasn’t looking for a father figure. Her mom, her sister, posted up in a lofty apartment in TriBeCa paid for by her absentee dad’s alimony, that was family for her. She didn’t want to move upstate, out into the middle of nowhere, trapped with a brother and a father she wasn’t interested in having.

”It’s just…” she braced herself. She knew what he was going to say- that tone that told her he was going to try to make some heartfelt speech that she didn't really want. ”I know… I’m not trying to be your father, but I’d like to… I want to do what I can.” honestly, she felt bad for him. She could see that he was trying. She was trying too... trying to get along, trying her best to stay out of the way of what may be her mom’s last shot at being happy, trying to keep herself from hating the idea of moving away from her friends, from her home, from a city that she loved, from…

”Mhm.” she gave a slight nod. It was the best she could muster, a forced affirmation.

It was funny how much time she had spent worrying about her own problems in a world that was dying around her. It all felt so… distant. Precursors, Dreamcatcher, monsters, USARILN, somehow none of it really factored in. Sure, seeing the supermen fight giant creatures on TV was cool, but it was just images on a screen. It almost didn’t feel real, so distant from her life of he-said-she-said drama, scumming around town for a party to go to, for friends to lie to, for something to feel.

It’s kind of funny how the things that define us are often the reasons we hate ourselves.

Of course it was petty, in the grand scheme of things. Her life didn’t matter an ounce. Frank cleared his throat- obviously he had said something while she was lost in her head and she had missed it. ”Sorry, what was that?” she didn’t need to turn around to know that there was a frown on his face. ”I’d like for you two to get along… you and Kyle. Your mother would too. But if… if that’s too hard just tell me. I’ll tell her to stop making you guys hang out, you won’t have to worry about it.” there was a subtle pain in his voice, she recognized.

Emma sighed. Subtle enough that he didn’t notice. Once again, she didn’t care. ”I’ll do whatever you guys think is best.” she shifted her weight in the seat, a feeling of discomfort settling in. She wanted him to leave. He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. ”Right. I’ll get out of your hair now. Goodnight.”

”Night.”

---

That car ride… I’d only been alone with him a couple of times. I didn’t like it.

---

She had gone to see a concert Val was playing. Not a big affair, mind you, more a bunch of hipsters packed into a shitty bar. She was only fourteen, sneaking into a bar armed with a fake ID, her sister’s approval, and her best friend/girlfriend who could talk her way in and out of nearly any situation. Honestly, it wasn’t as hard as it should’ve been to walk in, but they didn’t dare try to order drinks. They just wanted to enjoy the show, not test their luck.

Val would sneak them drinks and whatever else she could get her hands on when they got backstage anyways. She could always count on her older sister.

Unfortunately, their luck ran out sooner than that could happen. It was around halfway through the show that Val called a pause, then came down and informed Emma and Riley that Frank was waiting outside to take her home. It was about five minutes later than Emma found herself in the passenger seat of his truck, Riley absent with the promise that Val would give her a ride home. Emma’s mom didn’t exactly approve of their friendship. If she knew the extent of it she might have a heart attack, they had decided.

He was the first to talk. ”If it’s any consolation I would’ve let you stay if it were up to me.” he said, trying to sound jovial. She didn’t respond for a moment. ”You’re not the bad guy. It’s fine.” dejection in her voice obvious. She’d rather not talk right now, but he pressed the issue.

”Well, I’m sure it was a good show, at least. Valentine has always been talented.”

”Yeah.”

”Riley was with you, right?”

”.. Yeah.”

”Don’t worry. I won’t tell your mom.”

”Thanks.”

There was a long pause.

”So, I saw the letter you left on your desk.”

Emma turned to him, shock evident on her face.

”Don’t worry, I didn’t read it. But I saw who it was to…”

”You shouldn’t have.”

”Yeah. I know… I’m sorry. But listen… if you want to see him, I could take you. I know your mom wouldn’t. I know Valentine wouldn’t. I know that... he did bad things in the past. But… I think you should. It would be good for you, for both of you probably.”

Emma responded with silence. The thought of meeting her father hadn’t really crossed her mind, to be honest. She had written him letters out of a natural curiosity… wanting to know who he was, why he wasn’t there, but the thought of meeting made her apprehensive. He was the man who wasn’t there for her.

Not that she cared about that.

”I’ll think about it.”

---

I started to get along with Frank better after that. Months passed. When he asked again about my dad I didn’t really know if I really wanted to meet him, but I did all the same.

---

Frank was waiting outside. Inside, it was smoky. They had both wondered why he had wanted to meet her at a bar. A dingy one at that. But he still agreed to take her all the same, and that was what mattered. He was sitting on a stool at the bar, carrying on a conversation with the bartender. Multiple empty glasses lay in front of him. He looked… tired. A complete stereotype of the deadbeat dad.

Looked like self-loathing ran in the family.

She walked up to him with hesitation. Both men turned to her. He was far from what she imagined. She’d always wanted to picture him as some kind of monster but… he wasn’t ugly, far from it in fact. Perfectly sculpted hair, nary a hint of grey, a slight stubble that added to his appearance instead of detracting from it, reasonably fit... but there was a weariness in his eyes.

”Emma. It’s good to see you, finally.” was the first thing he said to her. She just kept staring. ”Jeff, you know we can’t have kids in the bar.” the other man said, eyeing Emma up and down. ”It’s fine. She’s my kid.” her father said, a forcefulness in his voice. The words sounded wrong to her. The other man gave him a disgruntled look, but didn’t push the issue, instead walking away to treat with other customers. Her father patted the stool next to him, indicating she should sit. She reluctantly obliged. ”Hard to believe. ‘My kid.’ My own flesh and blood, sitting here, and I hardly know you. You look like a good girl, Emma. Pretty.” he gave a slight tip of his glass before he took a sip from it.

”T-thanks.” she said reluctantly. ”Want something to drink? Uh, like, a soda or water? Unless…? he raised an eyebrow, extending his own drink to her. She was a little shocked at that. Whiskey. She never liked it, but it wasn't unfamiliar to her. ”No… no thanks.” there was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. Perhaps he was expecting something else from her. ”So, how’s Val doing? I haven’t seen that girl since… well, right around when you were born.” he tapped the bar rhythmically as he spoke, the discomfort between them clear. ”She’s… good. Moved out to the west to work on her music.” he nodded in response. ”And your mother?” he forced out. Emma paused, considering how much she should say. ”She’s good.” was all that she decided on. He nodded.

Five more minutes of forced conversation about her life passed before he posed a question that confused her.

”Did your mom ever tell you what I did? Where all that money comes from?” Emma raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t what she had imagined. It was too awkward, not some magical family reunion. ”No…? She… never really talked about you.” she said, befuddled. He sighed. ”I see. Y’know, I used to really be something. We could’ve had a good thing.... you should've seen how much of a success I was. A hedge fund manager. I made a fortune. Paid for that townhouse in TriBeCa you guys live in. Lived in. I lost a lot of it after alimony… and some BS frauge charges."

Another pause. He looked down. It's too bad I never got to be around... never got to know you." he covered his face with his hands, cadence slowing, "Did... did your mom tell you I hit her? Is that why I haven’t gotten a call, or even a letter for almost all of your lif-” he stopped suddenly. I’m sorry. The… my doc put me on anxiety meds. I think it’s got everything jumbled up. I must… I look like a real deadbeat, don’t I?” he was crying, she realized. She could hear it in his voice. She was looking down at the bar, not at him, filled with embarrassment and frustration and confusion.

”Why… are you telling me this?”

”Guess I’m venting. Not like I have anyone to do that to other than the bartender.” a slight grin, a small chuckle, but she didn’t find it funny. That was when Emma realized he had barely attempted to connect with her, not now, and not once during her entire life. He wasn't her dad, not really. The reason he wrote her back, she now thought, was so he could take out his frustration on her. Her mom wouldn’t have it, and Val wouldn’t have it either. So he came to her. She clutched the hem of her dress. ”I… I think this was a mistake.” she said, as she got up and left.

He didn’t move to stop her.

Frank turned when the door swung open, surprise in his face evident. ”That… was quick.” he realized that Emma was crying sooner than she did. ”Is everything all right? What happened? Did he… hurt you or…?” his voice filled with concern. Genuine concern. Not like her dad. That was the moment she realized he cared, that he wasn’t just faking it for her mom, that he really cared about her. She shook her head.

”I… I want to go home… Fra-“

She shook her head. In the end, she was another stereotype.

”Dad.”

---

I think I kind of liked it. I think I did it on purpose, actually. My desire to live out my life like some kind of pained artist or the main character in a novel… I kind of liked being sad, feeling torn up. It made me feel important.

Human Form

He can breath flames from his mouth in a straight line of up to 10 meters, capable of melting steel.
Maximum duration: 30 seconds
Cooldown: 30 seconds

Dragon Form

Line becomes a spray with a distance of 12 meters and widens closer to the edge of its range, with the maximum spread being 7 meters.

Duration: 30 seconds
Cooldown: 5 minutes

Human Form

He can grow scales from his dragon form onto his mortal body for armor. He can currently transmute his hands and wrists up to his elbow in clawed scales, as well as parts of his chest, scales have a durability approximately on par with platinum With new upgrade durability scales now exceed platinum durability.

Duration: 30 minutes
Cooldown: 1 hour

Dragon Form

Already present in Dragon form, however the scales on the underside are half as durable.

At first, there was the rising sun.

He watched the red rimmed horizon with a smile on his lips and an itch in his growing limbs.

His world was rhythm when red track flowed backward beneath him. One two, one two, rinse and repeat. It was simple. Never easy. But he enjoyed it. There was solace in its certainty. Until the track ran red, and he sank. Blue eyes and golden hair brought him back, but he knew that hand, and he knew what it had done. Would have done. He loved and feared in equal measure.

Voices rang in his ears. They were talking, with him, to him, over him. But not about him. This was never about him. He hugged himself under the oak desk, waiting for the storm to pass. This one wouldn’t though, of that he was certain. At least, not without loss. At least, he could choose who to lose. He chose.

He was doing the right thing.

He thought he was doing the right thing.

He watched the rising sun, still. When the fog in his head cleared. When his chest loosened enough to breathe.

Even against shimmering sunlight and his shaky breaths, she stood out. Still with golden hair and blue eyes, a touch softer and five years too young, but he could see the similarities. Or he was just seeing ghosts.

She didn’t tell him why she was here. He never cared enough to ask. Theirs were quiet moments hidden in the crack of dawn, when she spoke about the white sand of her home and he listened, glassy eyed and twitchy. Then the stories would end when his fingers came away sticky and red. Just the healing itch, they said, don’t touch it.

He was digging the bullets out. And he was tired of finding nothing.

He was tired of being nothing.

He was so tired.

Even the sun set in paradise. Even dead men dreamed.

When it was his turn, he chose release. Ever the fool. Ever the coward. When will you learn? Echoed the words of a ghost.

He found freedom instead.

On the tip of his tongue, he tasted life. In his hands, he clutched death. Another pair of blue eyes, another head of golden hair. Another ghost. But he was beyond grief. Beyond fear. Beyond rage. Beyond reason.

He was free.

He stalked the bleached halls until he was the only one left. Until thunder cracked and he lost his footing and he fell.

He was falling. He was falling still.

His new life is reduced to a number. They stoke his fire and torched him on a cold metal slab. The fire without, and the fire within. Just so they could find out which one burnt brighter.

There was pain. He turned it outward.

The fire fitted him well. It lived in the meagre space of his chest, and it lived for the freedom he found. He bled hate and pain into its heat, so it would keep him warm.

He missed warmth. He couldn’t find it, so searing heat would do. That was alright. He had nothing left to lose, so he didn't care if they all burnt.

They might kill him. A part of him wished they would. The Stigma didn’t let him die, that selfish thing, but he wouldn’t let it hold him back. They were fickle and fearful; they flinched when he watched.

He was waiting for another lapse. A breather, and he would seize it, like how he closed his jaws around that thrumming pulse. Petty retaliation for his pain, because he didn’t care. He was just so tired.

But they didn’t kill him. Just cold room and blank walls. He counted faces to keep time, before. They took even that from him.

It hurt, and he couldn’t take it. He just wanted everything to end.

It came to an end. But not in the way he wanted.

She walked into his life in a storm of rustling paper and clinking of heels on metal. He noticed her hair first: curled locks like spun gold and he thought of old ghosts that haunted his sleep still.

But she was different. So vibrant. So wise. A certainty he didn’t even know he needed. A ray of light to brighten his bleak days.

She told him the truth, of what he was and what he will become. What he could become. She promised him hope, and he ate it all up. He believed her. He tried to.

He did everything they asked. Everything she asked. Yet her promise remained out of reach. But he kept at it, still. He wondered why, sometimes. Guilt for ghosts?

Pointless and foolish. When will you learn?

Because he knew what was behind her truth. She was artist; he her work. Nothing more and nothing less. And he couldn’t really blame her. Couldn’t really blame anyone but himself.

His rage was ashen; he was holding onto ghosts.

For how long now? How much longer?

"W-what happened? Where...did it all fall apart?"

"Why?"

"Please...I don't want to be alone again."

He’s a hard read, but I think that’s his whole schtick. Like, he doesn’t want to open up to people for some reason. I honestly thought he would be more angry about what happened at Wisford and DC, but he was perfectly calm. But again, maybe that’s the schtick in action. I don’t know how to take the advice he gave me. Yeah; if I can’t handle the weapon, I shouldn’t put everybody in danger because of my actions…

But what about me? What about my safety?

---

Alright, second impressions: even worse. She’s a nice girl, I can tell that right of the bat without even talking to her. It seems like every time we get near each other, one of us almost gets killed because of the other. First she almost blew me up, and then I made her nearly bleed out. Is there a fruit basket I can send for ‘sorry I almost left you dead in the middle of the street’?

I didn’t see her much at the estate. I wonder how she’s handling DC.

---

We had quite the talk at the Estate. She thinks she’s worthless and not worth the trouble it takes to save her; that’s a hard rut to come out of, I know. She apparently doesn’t talk to many other people about this sort of thing if it made her so uncomfortable at the beach. Or maybe she was uncomfortable because of whatever it was she didn’t want to tell me; I assume I’m not being told the full story as usual, but it’s not best to pry.
It’s hard to keep secrets of your own if you’re always snooping into other people’s.
I’ll stick by her side. Not just because I’m her boyfriend, but because she needs someone to be able to talk to. Someone who legitimately cares about her. Someone there to bring her back up to stable ground.

Of course, I could just be projecting. That’s always a possibility.

---

Grant

We fought together the first day, we fought together at Flag Football, and we fought together in DC. You’d think after all of that I’d know more about the guy. I never seem to see him outside of the life-threatening missions, save for one time that he helped me unload logs from a truck. I guess my opinion of him has to be positive then.

He’s a valuable asset in battle: Quick-thinker, listens to orders when he needs to, and is able to come up with his own course of action when he doesn’t. Although…I’d like to evaluate him as more than a soldier someday.

---

Christopher

I don’t know what this guy’s deal is, and I’ve stopped caring. He scorched my leg down to the tendons on the beach, in a fight that he picked. I don’t care what little sob story he pulls about ‘being a monster inside’ and ‘not being able to control himself’. He’s an arbiter. I’d buy the buillshit if he was an abe, but I know for a fact that whatever choices he makes are based off his own rational thoughts, not whatever ‘stigma’ the others have to deal with.

If his intention was to come out to the beach to kill me, why stop? If it wasn’t…why start? Whatever the reasoning, Zhang had better be aware that I value my own life more than I value a hot-headed dragon, regardless of how good he is at fighting DC.

---

Sander

God, between him and Ernie, I’m having a real hard time learning to trust aberrations. Or, the male ones at least. I thought he was a maniac, and then I saw him around Christmas and thought he could be a good guy, and now I think he’s less of a maniac and more of an asshole.

His obsession with Christmas is a little over the top at best, and downright dangerous at worst. Back in DC, he ran off with one of our two healers without even saying a word, and then never came back. I don’t know if he went off to fight or what, but I was expecting him to come barreling through a crowd of people at any point. I don’t know if he’s legitimately trying to act feral, of if he’s just dumb enough to think it’s a good idea.

---

Callan

God, there was something about seeing her rolling around without an arm that still chills me to the bone when I think about it. Like some image from a dream that you can’t do anything to stop it. Seeing our invincible supergirl nearly biting the bullet really sobers you up.

I haven’t seen her since DC, but I imagine she’s probably not taking what happened there lightly. Even if she had nothing to do with it, how does it look when the Hero is hanging out with the villians?

I really wish she’d talk to me about it…

---

She’s beaten me, saved me, and shot guns with me. I’m not sure where to categorize her on the ‘friendship bar’. She seems nice enough when we’re not on a mission, maybe a little abrasive and a little hot-headed, but friendly at least.

Then there’s the truck incident…we’ve really got to keep coming back to this one, huh? Not publicized, and the only part of her that was shown had the audio cut out. You and I know what happened, but the rest of the world is left in the dark. Hard to tell if the monster limbs are a reflection of her power, or her actions as a whole. But who am I to talk?

---

I never actually knew her that well. She was on our team that first day and...she didn't make it back. Reminds you of how cruel the world is now. A child doesn't matter here, indeed. I don't know that I would have saved her, either

---

I don’t know what to say about myself anymore. I thought during the interview with that lady that I could be a shining beacon of hope, but I clearly have no problem being exactly what everyone's afraid subnaturals are. I killed a man. I’m a murderer, and that knowledge will never go away.
Not that it hadn’t been there already.
So why do I not feel guilty for it? He probably had a life; a caring wife, children that loved him. And I ruined all of it. Shouldn’t I feel awful about it? I’ve tried to…but it hasn’t worked. Has this place really broken me down to these levels?

---

Zoe’s…tricky. Callan seems scared of her, and I think it’s because of whatever happened back in Wisford. Apparently she has the power to literally rot people to death, which is pretty horrifying. Plus, I’m almost positive she was deliberately trying to frighten me back at the arcade.

Still, I saw her once at the Estate, and that was during Siena’s night. I have to at least be appreciative of her being there, if nothing else. Guess if you can get past the rocky exterior, you’ve got a friend for life. Maybe I should give it a try…one of these days I’m prepared to get shouted at.

---

What can I say about Siena? How much do I even actually know? I heard her talking to her father, which seems like a pretty screwed up relationship there. I also apparently chucked the one thing she needed to not freak out during DC. So from her point of view, I’m an asshole who deserves everything I get.

But from mine, I was keeping a friend from killing herself. She thinks I don’t trust her not to hurt herself…and she’s right. She asked me to sacrifice her life if the time comes…and I absolutely refuse to do so. ‘Just one more subnatural’ is a lot easier to justify that ‘just one more friend’, and too many of the friends I used to have are gone.

If I have to break a friendship to save a friend, I’ll do it.

---

God, I feel so terrible for her. How must it feel to constantly have the universe just kicking you right where it hurts the most. A girl, terrified of accidentally hurting innocent people, being forced to hurt innocent people to save herself and her team. It’s awful, and if there were any for me to stop that from happening…I wish I would have seen it.

I said too much during the car ride, and I’m afraid I’ve pushed her too far. But, even at the end of it, she still seemed like she was taking it better than I would have expected. Either I’m great at pep talks, or she’s better at hiding her feelings than I am at noticing them. In all honestly, either one’s possible.

I want to be friends with her, but I want her to be friends with herself first.

---

That’s the girl that was shopping with Siena and Angel and Brent, right? She was sympathetic when Siena punched me again. That’s…all I know about her, actually.

---

I’m coming to terms with the things I’ve done. Give me a little longer. Some time to prepare before I face myself.

---

Christmas seems like a nice enough kid. Way too skittish in my opinion, and certainly too willing to be beaten up by bullies if that whole Ernie situation is anything to go by. Still, it seems like he's got some amount of strength to him, at least.

Besides that, I’ve not seen him at a point where he wasn’t unconscious or rapidly nearing unconscious. Maybe once we get back to USARILN I’ll track him down, see how he’s been since the dog incident. Did I ever properly thank him for that…?

---

1/3 of our apparent boy band, Team SAP. I like the guy, I really do, but he always seems to cool for his own good. Like he knows exactly what to say or do to try and make himself seem perfect on the outside. He’s a good friend, and excellent shot, and an all-around great guy to hang out with. But if he were so perfect, he’d probably know better than to snoop around stories that are better left untold.

He knows about Savannah, and I’m grateful that he at least made that much painfully obvious. I’m not sure when the other shoe is going to drop…hell, I’m not sure if he’s even scheming anything; he’s a hard read, at least around me. At this point, I’m not sure if I should prepare myself for the worst or just keep going along and hope that whatever happens, he at least has the decency to make it quick.

---

I wish circumstances were a little bit different, because Ernie actually seems like a pretty cool guy. We’re friends, and he’s the other member of our little ragtag ‘SAP’ group. He’s friendly, can take a joke, and has shown that he is willing to take down someone just to defend my honor.

Any other time, I’d trust him with my life. But our little talk made it clear that there’s a storm brewing between the two of us. Our thoughts on the matter are too different; something’s got to break between the two of us, eventually. When it does…I’m not the kind of person that would be willing to kill one of my friends.

That’s why I know Ernie would win.

---

We talked. She’s quiet, but she seemed like she was always quiet. I wish I could apologize more for what I put her through, both in Wisford and DC. And it was me…all of the shit she had to sit through was all directly related to my attempts at being someone I can’t be: a leader.

It seems like I have a habit of saying too much. Or is it just a habit of saying the things that are better left unsaid? She’ll never tell me how she’s feeling…but I genuinely do wish her the best. Hopefully, her coping methods are better than the rest of ours.

---

She seems like a nice enough girl. Apparently she slipped her cuff though, and I don't think I've seen her since? I hope she's alright...

---

Marcus stopped, watching the waves crash onto the beach, fidgeting with his dog-tags as he walked. It helped to at least voice these thoughts out loud, and he knew that there was always someone listening when he had these little discussions. "Put in a good word for me, will you? I've done some terrible things...I'd like to see you again when it comes. Although...hopefully it's a long way off..."

“What? You want my thoughts on the other kids you got corralled in here? You might not know this; but I haven’t exactly been here that long. I also don’t have a degree in psychology, so I can’t psychoanalyze them and…just the first thoughts? Alright, alright, but only because you asked so nicely.

Lawrence seems like a nice enough guy. Dude’s got a sharp tongue though, and he’ll destroy you in a battle of wits if you don’t know what you’re getting into. He knows what’s going on and what he wants out of this place though, but I imagine that comes from experience. Although…if I’m being completely honest, he kinda creeps me out with how calm he can be. I know he tries to stay neutral because he doesn’t want to risk affecting others, and I’d like to see what he was like before all this. Part of me worries that if he drops the façade, he’ll actually be super crazy and just slaughter everyone. That’s ridiculous though…right?

Lily...Excuse me? Full name? Jeeze, I didn't realize I was talking to Mrs. Zhang herself here. Fine. Lilliana is a great big ball of energy. I could certainly see her and I getting along perfectly well when she’s not in one of her moods. Bipolar disorder, right? Yeah, I figured as much. God, it’s kinda sad, isn’t it? I just want to pull all her troubles right out of her; let her be happy all the time! Power-wise, it’s interesting. I don’t know that I’d rather have her over a good old fashioned med kit though. At least with the med kit, you know the wound’s not coming back! I mean, I doubt she’d ever intentionally hurt someone, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to put myself on the receiving end of.

Emma's a blast! Thank whatever fucked up god is out there that somebody at this place at least knows how to smile! You might not have noticed, but I’m not dealing with the best of crowds here; fortunately, she seems like one of the few who’s actually willing to TRY and have a good time, rather than mope around and let everything go to hell. Those little things she makes though, the ‘Tulpas’, I don’t really care for them. Those things give me the heebie jeebies; reminds me a little bit too much of DC’s boys, and I’m not the biggest fan of those guys. Don’t tell her I said that though; don’t want her taking it to heart! I've seen her psych report. Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.

Grant...There's not a whole lot I can say about him. He’s quiet, but most of all, he’s lazy. Hell, he might be quiet just because he doesn’t want to expend the effort to talk! He seems content to just let life pass him by, you know what I mean? Just wandering through the days, stickin’ to a routine, and not really contributing anything for himself or anybody else. Makes you wonder how a guy could do that every day of his life and not get bored. If I’d met him before this whole business went down, I’d say he was a total buzzkill. Nowadays…I don’t know…he might be the smartest one of us here.

Christopher's an asshole. There’s no two-ways about that. Dude’s got a stick the size of a flag pole stuck up his backside, but I’m not gonna be the one to point it out to him. I don’t know what kind of history the dude has, but I’m not too interested in talking long enough to find it out. You’d think he’d have a better time given the fact that he can turn into a DRAGON and all; if I was given that sort of ability, I would abuse the hell out of it! But, I don’t have that, so all I can do is sit here and talk about how he needs to loosen up a little. Frankly, the only reason you’d put us in a room together would be to test how long it takes him to punch me square in the face. D-don’t…don’t do that. I like my face unpunched, thank you.

Sander is a man with a plan. He plays along fairly well, and I certainly couldn’t tell you what his plan is, but nobody is that spick and span without having some sort of ulterior motive. If I were a snitch, I’d tell you to keep an eye on him, but I’m not. He’s the kind of guy I’d like to stick close to, were it not for his power. You want my honest opinion? Dude’s a liability; he needs to drink blood to ‘activate’ himself, and then he goes into a frenzy the more blood he gets? You’re gonna have the gall to be surprised when shit goes south, aren’t you? That being said, I’m just interested to see how high he soars…or how much collateral he takes when he crashes.

Callan seems nice enough. She almost seems like Grant, if he were just a touch more willing to extend himself. She’s honestly the closest thing we have to a super hero around here; and you wouldn’t believe it unless you saw her in action. Once you get her going, she’ll play the super hero to a ‘T’; it’s actually kind of funny to see how drastic the change is. The rose tinted view of DC bothers me a little bit, but it seems like it bothers her too. Which, I can understand; it gets hard to stand up for what you believe in and see the good side when it keeps fucking everything up all the time. Wait…no…that was rude of me; don’t write that down. It’s certainly not a topic I’d bring up if she was here, but I’ve got my own opinions on the matter. Aside from that, she almost seems like a normal lazy teenager. A lazy teenager that could throw a truck across the parking lot. Ain’t it weird what passes for normal nowadays?

Kusari has been interesting to try and figure out. First time I saw her I thought it was DC himself; my lungs nearly came out of my mouth at that sight! She’s small, but don’t let that fool you; girl’s got a bite! And damn, does she bite HARD! The things that come out of her mouth…she doesn’t try and hide her opinion of you, that’s for sure. Honestly, I could see her and I being two sides of the same coin. Like, take me; I’ve got humor, quick wit, a great personality, stunning good looks, and…well you get the idea. If you were to take me, strip away the jovial nature I have, and make my jokes a bit meaner, I have a feeling you’d get a similar personality. She’s not really worried about anybody but herself, and she’s not afraid to make that known. You’d think her power would be suitable, but she’s got the chance to be the most self-sacrificing person here. It’ll be interesting to see what she does.

Padma scares me. Like, not fear scare, but I’m definitely intimidated by her. Have you seen the chick? I’m willing to bet serious money that she could break me in half and not even call it a warmup! Definitely not the kind of person I would normally hang out with; hell, I spent my free time yesterday trying to figure out how many buffet cheesecakes I could eat. It’s not a lot, if you were wondering. Her ability’s a sneaky one; she can hide in the shadows and move around without you seeing her! There’s a lot of opportunity for that, but she can probably do more good with it than I can. But yeah, I am in no way prepared enough as a human being to keep up with her. I applaud her for her regime and determination, but I applaud her from my nice comfy chair.

Zoe seems like she could also use some lightening up. She’s got a temper, but as long as you can avoid setting her off, she’s a pretty okay person! She’s upfront, which is something I can certainly appreciate; if she doesn’t like you, then you had better believe that you are gonna know about it. Although, I get a ‘big sister’ vibe from her; if you get past the rocky exterior, I feel like she’d be a friend for life. She seems like she’s trying to do all the right things, but I just think she’s going about it from the complete wrong direction. I’m afraid to see her when she’s angry though! God help whoever has to deal with the brunt of her wrath!

Hazel's a robot, right? You put a fully automated robot in with a bunch of students to see if we could figure it out? It’s impressive technology, I’ll give you that! It’s super lifelike, but it doesn’t act like a real…pardon? She’s not a robot? What the hell did you do to her then!? She did it voluntarily? That’s…god. Yeah, yeah…give me a second. That’s a raw deal. Was she like that before all of this went down, or is it a present from our good friend in the sky? Hmm. I don’t know how much you want me to say about her then. She’s gone; there’s no person in there. Her power? Yeah, sure, I mean, she can punch shit really well. Like I said…there’s not a whole lot to say, there.

Siena seems like your basic nerdy rich girl. Don’t get me wrong, she’s great to hang around with, seems like a real bubbly person when you get to know her. Although, I don’t know if I’ve gotten to know her either; every time you talk to her, little things change. Like she doesn’t even know her own story, no pun intended. She’s a huge bookworm too, which is something I can certainly get behind. Actually, I guess that makes sense: the girl with the power to take from books would be the one who reads the most books. Yeah, I only just now pieced it together, shaddup. She’s nice, like I said. A bit too uptight, and a bit too anxious, but maybe a public school will be good for her.

Angélique seems like your average, angst fueled, rock and roll teen. I feel like she’d be a nice person to hang out with, if only she could get out of her own head. Before all this, I bet she would have been great to be friends with. Yeah, I’ve heard about the incident. That’s something hard to live with, hurting that many people. That’s the kind of thing that’ll stick with you, something that’ll rot you from the inside out. I feel for her; that’s a burden that must be tough to bear. I imagine that’s why she always irritated; probably tearing herself up all the time. She’s been through a lot, and someone just needs to tell her it’ll be fine, that everything will turn out okay. I bet if I asked her about her music, that’d cheer her up for a little bit at least.

Allison and I are two different sides of the same coin, I think. She’s nice, but she’s certainly not willing to make a few enemies if it’s necessary. She certainly enjoys teasing people and messin’ with ‘em, which I have no problem with, but some people don’t take it quite as well. Of course, I’ve heard some nasty rumors about her, but I try not to pay much attention to those. Unless I should actually worry about that…she…she can’t ‘Last Crusade’ a guy, can she? No? Energy blade!? That’s pretty awesome! She could be like a samurai or something! Sorry, yeah…like I said, she seems nice enough; I could see us getting along.

Savannah is one of the few people here that actually scares me. I heard she’s like, ALWAYS angry. Not just frustrated or a little pissed, like, tear your face from you skull if you blink incorrectly. But god, look at her! She looks harmless! ‘Oh, gimme back me lucky charms, you blokes, or I swear on me mum I’ll throw me blarney stone at ye!’ God…was that mean of me? I feel like that was mean of me. What, you don’t think she’d appreciate that kind of joke? I mean, she can’t blow me up if I just don’t rewind, right? Easy solution! Nah, you’re right; probably best that I just don’t say anything around her.

Christmas …Listen, I don’t hate the kid, but he’s irritatingly passive. I want to go all older sibling and protect him, but it seems like a wasted effort, honestly. He’s a doormat; people are going to step all over him, and he’s not gonna do anything about it except shake and cry. Maybe that’s why I don’t like him; I hate seeing people being afraid of things that have solutions. If there’s something I could do, I’d love to help, but there’d always be something else! Hell, even his magic is like that; he can heal other people only if they’re willing to hurt him? That’s a recipe for some screwed up interactions, there! Like I said, I’d love to help him somehow, but the kid’s gonna give himself an ulcer or something before long.

Aaron is a great guy to hang around! He’s super relaxed, and seems to be one of the people actually dealing with this place in a decent way. Hell, he seems like he never even skipped a step between normal life and here. A genuinely friendly guy; the kind that I’m willing to bet would always be there when you need him. He’s a total gamer too! I never used to have many games when I was young, but I always wanted to get into that kind of thing! I like his power; little clockwork dudes? Good to see someone’s power fits in with what they’re lifestyle was like before everything. But hey; he and I could have some sort of a theme going if you put us together!

Alexis? Freakin' barf-o-rama there. She's one of those goody-two-shoes people that tries to see the good in everybody, no matter what. I'm all for it, but she's definitely going to get her and and anybody around her killed by trying to talk down this week's latest threat. She's fine, but I'm not a huge fan of being collateral, you see.

Brent seems like my kind of friend. A jokester, never takes much to heart, always has a funny quip. I dunno, something about him rubs me the wrong way though. He seems like he lays it on a little bit thick; like the jokester personality isn’t his actual personality. Like he’s afraid of breaking character or something. God, I am SUCH a hypocrite; let me start that again. Seems a lot like me, but he also feels like he needs to be more sure of himself. I heard he survived a Perfume attack though, so I’ve got to give him some respect for that. His power’s certainly interesting enough; seems like there’s a lot of things he could do with it if you gave him the materials. Let’s call him a wild card, shall we?

Ernie appears to be a nice enough guy. Real clingy though, and super OCD or something. I don’t know that I’d be able to hang around the dude for very long before I politely excused myself from his company. But I’ve heard some things about him, which is mostly the reason I try to avoid him. I was never a fan of bullies back in my hometown, had a few incidents with them myself, but I was lucky enough to have someone standing up for me. Heh, would you believe I was not always the charming gentleman before you? Well, let’s just say that I wasn’t always able to laugh everything off and quip back; and Ernie’s ‘fame’ reminds me of just how much I hated those days. I know he comes from a troubled past, but he let his past define him, and not in a good way.

Sophia is super quiet. Like, SUPER quiet. I haven’t exactly been able to chat to her very much. Are we just recruiting child soldiers now? Between her and Savannah, that’s two children your just letting run around risking their lives. Yeah, I know, I’m only four years older, but four years makes a helluva difference! All the little things she does certainly makes her seem like she cares though. From what I’ve heard, she can get pretty sassy too, which is enough material for me to work with. All in all, kind beyond her years; much more willing to care for people than a thirteen year old girl should have to be.

“Is that all? No more questions? Did I win any prizes? Damn, I thought I gave some really moving answers too. Well, feel free to come around and chat some more, you know how much I love listening to myself talk for minutes on end. I don’t suppose I get to know what sort of database all those responses are going in, huh? Nah, didn’t figure as much. Just do me a favor; warn me before this becomes public knowledge. I’ll need some time to barricade the door.