"Alex is fine, there's no need for the ms part."

"Forgive me," He replied, "Sometimes I'm a bit too polite, I suppose we will be seeing each other around, Alex." With that, Hanzō gave her a quick nod and started to walk towards the Quebec barracks. He let out a soft sigh as he walked away, the picking and choosing of words had never been his forté, he had done well this time. He shifted his grip on his suitcase and arrived at the entrance to the cone. A massive structure up close. A long area of entrance doors were complimented by a regal fountain in front of them. The fountain was in the shape of a tall apple tree with water pouring out of the apples into the pool below them. Hanzō stopped to appreciate the sight before entering through the doors. A large open circular gymnasium laid before him, an indoor track ran the outside perimeter of the room with a pool in the center. An elevator in the middle of the room went up to the upper levels. A path crossing across over the track and pool from the entrance way that had steps going down to the track and pool led towards the entrance to the wing. Walking over the suspended cross way, Hanzō observed some other recruits who had gotten there before them already making use of the track and pool. Through the doorway at the end of the path was the hallway. A long straight hallway with doors to each Barrack lining the hallway. The doors were thick and secure, requiring a retina scan to open. After a brisk walk he arrived at the Quebec Barracks, the first one to arrive, there were already other people entering the new Barracks.

Hanzō stood before the door unsure of how to open it. To him, he could deduce that the small panel to the left of the wall must open the door somehow. Hanzō got close to the panel and looked at it baffled at how it must work, all that was on the panel appeared to be a lense of some sort. Hanzō looked closer at the lens before a beam of light shot out of it at his eye, the light retracted and an audio message came from the panel.

"Retina unreadable : If you are Hattori Hanzō, please place thumb on panel, if not, only members of the Quebec Barracks are allowed entrance into here."

It seemed as if the machine identified the eyeballs of people, and with Hanzō's "special" eyes, required a different form of identification. As per instructed, Hanzō placed his thumb on the panel and after a few seconds it made a beep and the thick door unlocked. Pulling it open, he was greeted with the sight of a spacious room a circular couch was in the middle of the room surrounding a circular table. The set of furniture laid in front of a fairly big flat screen TV that was on the wall next to the entrance area. In the back of the room was a large wall of glass that gave a nice view of the beachfront and open water. Next to the window were basic kitchen appliances, a fridge, a dishwasher, a stove, a sink, etc. On the tile floor was a large letter "Q", probably after the "Quebec" Barracks. On one side of the room was a door that led to the male living area while on the opposite side was a door for the female area. Hanzō opened the Boy's door and found another room with beds neatly placed the room. Each bed had a drawer beneath it and a nightstand with a lamp on it. There was a door in each male and female room that lead to its own bathroom with shower stalls.

Mary turned, hearing the man call after her. She dropped the bottle of beer to her side, allowing her arm to hang limp, the glass slowly swinging back and forth. She titled her head, amused by the meekness of the man. She considered toying with him, pulling out a knife or something, but she figured that that could wait. For now, she would keep up the thin veil of innocence and kindness. tensing up the arm in which the bottle hung, she smiled a terribly fake smile at the man.

"Well, hun, I wouldn't know about the luggage, I didn't happen to bring any. I'm afraid you're out of luck there." She said, dripping with fake pity. "It looks like the barracks are... this way," She said, pointing to where the most of the people were walking. "Or at least, that's what it looks like. So, where are you? I'm in the Quebec barracks." She said, as she turned to walk to the barracks. She took a brief look around, her squinting eyes still not used to the bright light.

“I’m also in the Quebec barracks” he says, returning the fake smile with a far more genuine one. “I guess we’ll be sharing a room then huh?” He asks. There is a brief awkward pause where his mind registers what he just said aloud. He stammers quickly, “I mean uh, dorms. Not room rooms. That would be weird…um…sorry. English isn’t my first language.” He is suddenly thankful for the heat, as it partially covered the embarrassed flush currently spreading across his face.

He offers a hand for the older woman to shake, “My name is Vincent Myska. It’s um…nice to meet you.” He says, hoping to quickly move away from that slip up. After all, he had no idea how long he was going to be stuck on this island, so it would be nice to have at least a few people to hang out with. Even if the humidity did beat down on him like a jack hammer, it was leagues better than hitchhiking across Europe and barely making ends meet by doing street performances.

"Miss anything?", Alex questioned back before shrugging slightly moving on to the next part of fhe man's questions asking about what the angry man had said, "Not really he mentioned barracks assignments and that we have the rest of the day to get settled, we're to reconvene here in at 6 am sharp. I wouldn't advise sleeping through that, he seems like he'd take too much pleasure in making you regret it." She answered grinning slightly, once more shifting the suitcase on her back feeling the comfortable press of its cold hard metal on her back, before mentally recalling the list the angry man had shouted off about room assignments.

"You said your name was Evan right? I think you're in Quebec as well." Alexandria hummed out tilting her head turning to look back up at the building having answered the man's questions bouncing lightly on her feet wanting to get moving and explore the place a little before glancing back at Evan from behind her own shades.

"Its this way." She commented before walking off leaving the man to follow if he would as she made her way down the landing strip taking in the local landscape, making mental landmarks for the different paths and entrances to the building she would be staying in as well as towards the looming building farther up the beach, as she merged into the group bustling in and out of the buildings doors stopping slightly in awe as she took in the architecture and layout of the Nod.

"Ah, yeah. You can call me Sam. I guess you'd only call me Phantom Skull if you were a supervillain, right?" He said, laughing. His laugh trailed off into a nervous chuckle as he looked Stefan in the eye. Was he a supervillain? No, probably not!

He turned to the pile of luggage and found his suitcase. He shrugged to Stefan. "I'm not too sure where Quebecois is, I guess we follow the crowd?" He said, as he hefted the suitcase, fumbling with his smaller briefcase. Sam evaluated his position on the island, as he started to shuffle towards Quebectown. People had already known his name, he had Captain Hardhead to thank for that. Did this island have room for secret identities? It seemed... insecure. All it took was one hero in training to go bad, and once they went bad, they became a super villain with intimate knowledge of every hero.

Sam could only be thankful that he was not some playboy millionaire, or famous photographer. No one knew who his identity was, and he intended to keep it that way. Samuel Spectre would be as much of a phantom as the phantom skull.

Stefan was either oblivious to that one moment of discomfort or chose to ignore it. "I dunno man, some people take things too far, let the mask wear them instead of the other way around. Pretty sure that's not healthy". He wasn't sure if he was being a hypocrite here or not. He was himself, but his "mask" ran so much deeper than a piece of cloth over his face. Hadn't he said he was also Helion Strahl not a minute ago? Something to consider another time, perhaps. For now, he had to find his lodgings. Luggage wasn't an issue since he had none, belongings were hard to come by when one was essentially homeless and he didn't take or hoard what he didn't need anyway. No, the issue was figuring out where he was supposed to go.

He hadn't paid any attention to the map and only marginally more attention to Sergeant Shoutsalot, so he figured going by Sam's suggestion of following the group wasn't a terrible idea, he'd just have to get used to the layout of the place in time. And time it would take, because he wasn't one for making much mental notes or nothing of the sort. Hands in his pockets, he walked around shifting his head to and fro, admiring the natural beauty of the place and the contrast with the man-made facilities unlike anything he'd ever seen before, going along with the flow of people in order to get to his barracks. Which he still had no idea what they were called. Something Canada. Stopping for a moment, he just decided to ask out loud "Hey, anyone know if there's a barracks with some canadian name? Ontario or something? I'm awful with names unless I attach a face to them".

I admit I was surprised when I read the message on the phone. Many thoughts came into my head; “Why me?” “What had I done?” “Was I ready for this?” I pushed most of the questions out of my head and continued to drive to the air strip, i admit that I looked out of place in my military fatigues but I had nothing to change into. upon arrival I jumped in the nearest space by the looks of things I was the last person on board.

After 47 hours stuck in a plane there is one word which comes to life; F*ck. After the constant noise of people running back and forth to the toilet, taking orders for meals, announcements and so on, I was lucky to get some sleep, but luckily it seemed the passengers weren’t the most sociable people and so our cabin remained quiet. It’s strange how I used to like flying, but now it only reminds me of the missions I completed and the innocents I have killed.

Over the flight I had noticed the temperature slowly rising indicating a tropical island of sorts. Looking at the island it is strange that it was never noticed before I mean it’s not very hard to miss an island.

When the final announcement came over the tannoy I tried to take in as much information as possible, and the holo-map was a genius way to give us directions besides the fact it as the only one we saw.

Upon leaving the plane I retrieved my items and followed quietly behind the others. I tried to remember as many names as possible as they could come in handy in the close future. Then I met Him, I didn’t catch his name but he was obviously in charge for the time being. Then came the thing most familiar the boy scout voice. "LISTEN UP YOU LAZY PIECES OF SHIT! THIS IS NOD, or in some cases GODDAMN HELL!" I stood to attention instinctively listening closely to what he said. Hmmm N.O.D not a bad acronym wonder what it means I thought. Once he said the barrack assignments he left.

It seemed I was left to sleep with everyone else, I don’t mind really, after spending weeks with people on missions you get used to that sort of thing. It seemed that most people were socialising, something in which was not my strong point, But I needed to meet these people if I was going to stay with these people.

I saw my moment when the man named Stephan asked the question: "Hey, anyone know if there's a barracks with some Canadian name? Ontario or something? I'm awful with names unless I attach a face to them".

I replied after a momentary pause: “ I believe I might be able to help there Stephan’s the name right? If I remember correctly there should be a long area of entrance doors with a fountain in front of them. Inside should be a large open circular gymnasium, with An elevator in the middle of the room which went up to the upper levels.in there should be a path A path from the entrance that led towards the entrance to the wing. Through the doorway at the end of the path is where the hallway should be. If I am correct it should look like a long straight hallway with doors to each barrack lining it. The names Prophet or Leo to my friends, I’ll see you around”

I secured my bergen to my back and left him to make his own way there. Following the map on my HUD I made my way towards the first land mark, the fountain taking in its detail whilst walking past. Walking into one of the doors I entered the gymnasium just like the map had suggested it was a large circular building in which contained a swimming pool and an athletics track, which by the looks was occupied by one the earlier arriving groups. The path was elevated which in my opinion was a smart idea so others could not disturb the training classes below. At the end of the path was the door I needed. Opening the door I saw the hall way and made my way to the Quebec barrack.
Surveying the doors they were all thick and most likely blast proof No one is going to get in here in a hurry. Arriving at the Quebec barrack I inspected the door looking for a number pad but there was none to be found. Upon close inspection I could see the retina scanner here we go Placing my eye up to the scanner as I did this a beam of light shone out into my eye followed by the audio message: “Retina scan complete, Leo Renton Call sign; prophet, Welcome” followed by a beep and the sound of an unlocking door.

Pulling open the door I entered what seemed to be the green room containing; a circular sofa in the centre of the room facing a 42” flat screen Tv that was wall mounted. On the floor the letter “Q” caught my eye most likely standing for Quebec.

Upon finding the boys dormitory I entered finding beds neatly placed the room. Each bed had a drawer beneath it and a nightstand with a lamp on it. Inside there was a door which lead to its own bathroom with shower stalls. I placed my burgen on the nearest bed to the door. I had turned my sensory apparatus off when I had arrived and so did not notice the person standing in the room with me, I admit he made me jump when I saw him. I examined him but I didn’t know his name.

‘There is a first time for everything right?’ I put out my hand for him to shake, ”the name’s Prophet, Leo to my friends and your name is?”

Alex waited and watched as people came and went, almost completely ignoring HD as he ranted the usual military dribble, Alex simply hummed a tune and looked about the place, trying his best to remember exactly where everything was. What dreadful heat... the thought passed his mind again as he finally began to look at the red faced and, loud man who was there leader....drill sergeant, friend, whatever he wanted them to call him by. Still not listening Alex nodded slowly as he watched the man walk away, and as people began to...socialize, something Alex usually enjoyed yet was, apparently, not the best at. He let a small cool smile form from his lips as he let his suitcase hang to his side, he continued to hum "ode to joy" and began skulking to his desired destination, he wanted to meet the lovely folk he would be staying with, maybe they would be a bit more agreeable then the last group...One literal skeleton in the closet and your a 'creep' for life.

Avoiding human contact with a surprising amount of grace and likely practice, Alex glided through and around the small army of would be heroes who were walking to the same or similar destination he was. Passing people he would undoubtedly need to get used to he took in faces and voices, trying to record and collect sufficient data from them all. Knowing which mask to wear for which party, was always a good thing to do ahead of time.

As Alex arrived at his destination (which was the one thing he picked up from HD) he placed his face a bit ways away from the panel, letting it scan his eyes. Same routine to him, he remembered it bothering him a tad when he was first here. When the doors slid open he wasted not time making his way in, looking about at a room styled much like the one he had stayed in before. "Home sweet home I suppose..." he muttered in monotone. Looking now to the two bodies occupying the room alongside him he started once again to make notes, facial features and gates, stances and details. Information was one form of power Alex could really emphasize one, most people here focused on less...tried and tested methods. "Evening gents" Alex waved as he did a small twirl, getting a nice look out the windows. "Dreadful heat eh?" he cooed as he placed his baggage gently on the floor. It was obvious to anyone enough attention that, whether or not these two were socializing, and whether or not they wanted privacy, they now had a third member in their conversation.

Hanzō gracefully placed his suitcase on the bed at the end of the room. With a soft click, the suitcase opened and revealed a few ornate wooden boxes with traditional Japanese designs on them. With careful hands he picked each box out of the suit case and placed them on the bed covers. Behind him he felt the presence of another enter the room. He turned around to greet his new roommate. He observed the tall blonde man in military clothing walk into the room. Choosing silence and erasing his presence, he watched as the man entered and looked around. The man was startled when he saw Hanzō standing by the bed.

"the name’s Prophet, Leo to my friends and your name is?”

Another man walked in before Hanzō could utter a reply, an unkempt looking man with frizzy hair.

"Evening gents...dreadful heat, eh?"

He seemed the whimsical chatty type while the other seemed aloof but careful. Hanzō gave them his customary mannerful smile and polite bow before answering his voice wavering with an electronic vibration, "I am known as Hanzō, or in the Martial Arts World as Fushō no Tsubasa, which I believe translates to 'Wounded Wing' in English." He took off his swords from his shoulders and placed them neatly near his wooden boxes. "The heat is bearable." He replied as he opened the boxes ceremoniously. In the first box was a blowgun carefully placed inside with an array of darts and jars of various poisons and tranquilizers, satisfied he placed the cover back on the box and placed it in the drawer beneath his bed. He opened the second box and revealed a fair amount of smoke bombs carefully placed in rows, so as to not crush the egg-shell crushed-pepper bombs that were also stored with the bombs. Placing the cover back on the box, he placed it in the drawer beside the blowgun box. Finally he opened the third box, it was very meticulously filled with a large amount of throwing knives in the top slots while the bottom slots held throwing stars, there were a few empty spots. Finished he placed the last box in the drawer and closed it before standing and taking a seat on his bed. He had a view over the rest of the room from his corner bed and a large window beside him. He observed the clock above the bathroom doorway, it was around 1:00 PM currently in the time zone they were in.

He picked up his swords and gave another bow to the two of them, "It is my hope to get along with the both of you, please, if you'll excuse me, I wish to look closer at the rest of the barracks." With that, he exited through the door and walked around the main area of the Barracks. He was a little bit baffled by how nice the room was, especially the kitchen, he had a faint memory of some of the appliances he saw but he was still a bit grey on how they worked. He needed to think, his new surroundings were a lot to take in and meditation would help to take it all in, the carpet in front of the wall window seemed like a nice place. Carefully he knelt down seiza position toward the window and out towards the beach and placed his swords beside him. He began to meditate.

All of the fake innocence drained from Mary's face, leaving her visage in a blank stare, her dark eyes peering at Vince. "It's been great getting to know you, Vince, but I think I'll cut the conversation short here. You might see me around, if you're lucky." She said, her words conveying no emotion, simply hanging there in the space. She ignored the offered handshake, before turning on her heel, taking long strides as she walked to the barracks.

Mary stopped at the thick iron door, examining it for a moment. A brief look over showed her the retina scanner. "Wow. So not cliche." She muttered, going through the process quickly, not bothering to wonder how in the nine circles of hell they got a scan of her retina beforehand. As the door opened seamlessly, she stepped in, immediately feeling the drop in temperature. She was startled to hear the door close behind her, though it was soundless, save for a few small clicks. She took in her surroundings,not tarrying too long in the main area.

Wasting no time, she walked over to the clearly marked girls living quarters, where she would be spending quite a bit of time. She was glad to see that she was the first there, so had some time to unpack before getting to know the people she would be working with from now on. 'Hopefully there aren't too many of them...' She thought, shuddering as she sat down on one of the beds, her bottle of alcohol still cradled in her hand.

"Hey thanks uuh...dude" Stefan muttered as the man in military garb walked away, wondering who he was and why he knew his name. He was pretty sure he'd seen the guy on the plane, he stood out like a sore thumb amidst the ragtag group, but he'd never talked to the guy, he hadn't seen him around when he'd introduced himself to Mary and Sam and the instructor had only read his name off a list without bothering to match names with faces. He didn't think another recruit would have access to some Puriel database or whatever and he doubted the guy was a full fledged member of the organization. How strange. He'd have to talk to someone about that later. For now, it was back to figuring out where he was supposed to go.

He had to admit the dude's instructions, which sounded like he was reading them off a brochure, were quite useful. He found his way up to the barracks in no time and, seeing no other canadian name of any sort, figured he was supposed to stay at the Quebec Barracks. It was definitely Quebec, then. It was an impressive facility, no doubt, but he preferred the lush natural landscape outside to the more organized military feel of the inside. Going through the retinal scan without a hitch, he decided to ignore the bedroom in favor of going straight for the fridge and sifting through its contents. Milk, juice, water, eggs, assorted vegetables, it was definitely well stocked. Finally, he settled on some bread, ham and cheese. It was time to fix himself a sandwich.

“I’m sorry I didn-“He tries to say, the door sliding closed behind Mary before he could get a word out. He stands there for a minute or two, not wanting to agitate her further by following her in. ”Good work Vincent…” he thinks sullenly, presenting his eye for the retinal scanner. ”Now not only do you not know where your stuff is, but you also look like a gigantic stalker or something...”

He entered the dorm. It was far nicer than what he was used to, but he was not about to complain. Insofar on this trip, this was the only good thing to happen. He quickly skulks off to the guys living area, wanting to claim a bed quickly. He chooses one close to the shower door, quietly opening the drawers, trying to figure out what to do. To his surprise he finds his clothes, neatly folded, inside his drawers, along with a small paper describing basic hygiene habits Puriel expected him to follow. ”Well…” he thought, slightly creeped out by the gesture (grateful as he was to have clean clothes for the first time in two years) ”At least that’s one…problem solved I guess” .

He decides to try and let it go, returning to the sitting area as a fit blonde man a few years older than him walks in, quickly rummaging through the kitchen. He starts to say something but bites back the words, remembering his earlier faux pas. Instead, he turns on the TV and sits on the couch, deciding it would probably best to let others come to him.

Evan scoffed. "Nobody else is gonna make me regret a thing," he replied skeptically before returning a confident grin of his own. Quebec? What'd they do, name everything after states? His hand slipped deeper into his left pocket, fiddling with a small object as Alex bounced around. "Actually, you go on. I'll catch you later, uhhh," Evan's voice trailed off in a show of forgetfulness. "Alex." He finished triumphantly, tapping a finger against the side of his head. "I got it. Later." He waved nonchalantly as she turned off towards the barracks. As she left, he pulled the his shades down the brim of his nose, peering over them before turning his own attentions to the surroundings as well.

It had been a long plane ride, to be certain. And even if he slept through half of it, he was still feeling the effects of being in a pressurized cabin so long. I'll nab a bed in a bit. I can smell the beach. He fished a cigarette from a pocket inside his jacket, and balanced it between his lips. He held his hands over the end to shield it from the wind shooting across the open tarmac. With a flick of his thumb it was lit, and almost immediately he felt a little calmer about everything.

It definitely smelled different out here than New York. Evan didn't even notice the odors anymore, but there was something to be said for fresh air and the sounds of surf around the island. He'd been told by others that the city smelled awful, and he idly wondered if he'd have to agree upon his return. And his thoughts drifted next to what else he might have to deal with upon going home. I had to take this chance. It was my way out.

Though he had intended to make it to the beach, Even stopped short at a tall building that stood on the way, splitting the otherwise peaceful landscape. Offices? Could be, but what do heroes need with offices? He took another long drag on his cigarette, only to realize he'd smoked it down to the filter. He hadn't noticed it burning against his first two fingers. Shoulders shrugging in a silent laugh, he dropped the filter and stamped it out against the ground.

Sam walked with the crowd, lagging behind once he got close to the Quebec barracks. He observed others go in. A retinal scanner, eh? What was security to a phantom? A retinal scanner meant a log, and a log meant they were tracking his movements, and Sam never was one to be tracked. He would not be followed, he would become a ghost in the machine that was Puriel.

He put his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. His body phased out of reality as he became the........ phantom! He pulled his luggage into the ghostly presence, and slowly shifted into the wall. What was it like to be a phantom? He could not explain it. He could feel the world, and feel the walls around him, but at the same time, he could not. He felt cold and yet not.

His body shifted through the building's architecture, his face shifting inches through the surface of the wall to peer into the next room. The dorms. The beds. Several men were in conversation already, one had left for the sitting room. Excellent. They were distracted.

Samuel gently placed his luggage down against one of the empty beds, and slowly lowered his body into the room. He rematerialized, and to anyone who had missed it, it would seem as if he had already settled down into the dormitories for a nap before anyone else could arrive. Wild!

The flight was heinous. Sumeyya had flown before with her family on a couple of vacations, across Europe, into Asia, one time even to New York City. The one to America had been long, yes, but nowhere near as long as this one. Forty-seven hours. Where could a person possibly fly to that would take so long? She had never been the best student in geography or math, but she doubted even flying all the way around the world non-stop would take so long. Perhaps it had been some trick, and the super-secret superhero agency took them to a base on the dark side of the Moon. She smiled a little at the thought, though it didn’t touch her eyes. It was absurd that in her world such a thing could even be probable.

She kept to herself over the egregious span of time. These people made her feel uncomfortable. Their thoughts and histories brushed against the edges of her mind, so many unfamiliar tongues that she could taste and which she feared could taste her back. They were special in their own ways, just as she was. Could they read minds too? Feel the emotions of others as though they were their own? Before he had died (or was it as he had died?) her grandpa had told her, “You’re a special girl, my little Kutsal. God means great things for you. But you must be careful. This world is not kind to special people.” In that moment she knew he was right. The air in the cabin was stale with unspoken tragedies.

Sumeyya stewed in her chair for most the flight, arms and hands antsy across her turquoise blouse and black chino pants. Her head was covered in a hijab, a spectrum of blue and green in floral patterns draped down to across her shoulders. It was silly, but it gave her some feeling of comfort, of protection. She had not worn the hijab for years. It was too unfashionable, too outdated for a modern girl, consigned to the realm of the old and the modest. Now she felt it was the only thing which lay between her and these strangers, the last reminder of her old world and of her family. She recalled a picture she had seen of her mother in her youth, wearing a similar garment, and wondered how alike they would look if she could stand next to the girl her mom used to be. Practically twins.

The flight announcement shook her from these thoughts. They had landed, salvation at last. She jumped from her seat and regretted her haste as her legs cramped. Ruddy damn plane, ruddy damn superheroes. She collected her purse and her carry-ons and waddled out the door. The sun beat down upon them all. A soft, tropical breeze carried the scents of brine and palms. Memories of Antalya.

The group had little chance to get their bearings before they were set upon. The man, HD, screamed and wailed, but Sumeyya was unimpressed. She had seen and felt real rage on others. This was practiced, something that he thought his job required, a cartoon character out of some American war film. She had always enjoyed those, though her sister found them distasteful. It was a feat of self-composure that she didn’t smile or laugh. Out of any reaction, she knew the man would appreciate that one the least.

Barracks, though. What in God’s name had she gotten herself in to? Her head was on fire. She should’ve been back in college, dutifully ignoring her classes and sleeping in until the mid-afternoon. The others seemed to be taking to it like fish to water. They mingled, socialized, laughed. She kept still, buried her head in her hands. Too much, it was all just too much. The din receded as the majority of them made their way to their new home, leaving her to sit her on her luggage.

Finally she’d had enough. It was time to get on with things, to steel herself. Well, it was time to not be a total catatonic sad sack, at the very least. She slung her purse over her shoulder and dug inside of it, luggage rolling along behind her. The clicking of her heels stopped as she found a decent place in the shade of some building. She found her cigarettes and lighter, and lit one with little grace. She realized her hands were shaking, and felt ashamed. She’d never been a heavy smoker, had never really liked it. It used to be more of a social thing, something she did because her friends did. She had promised her brother months ago that she would stop. This was only her third cigarette since, but it stung more than any other.

She cursed under her breath, something in Turkish, words with a history that would put the old and superstitious on edge. She had to calm down, clear herself. She let her mind wander too much. Things would get out of control. The smell of New York, Atlantic air mixed with car exhaust and a mass of humanity. A smell she’d encountered herself, but this wasn’t her memory. She raised her head and noticed that she wasn’t actually alone. Whatever. Might as well go for it.

“Oh, hi there. I’m Sumeyya. I noticed you on the plane,” she said to the man in the sunglasses, the man a part of her already knew. “You’re Evan, right? American. I was there once, in New York. Cool city.” Her English was good, but came out slowly in a heavy accent.

Evan…yeah. From New York. New York was a big city, what part of New York? Gunfire rang out, police sirens. A fire washed over her, bathed her in heat. Her stomach felt empty, hungry, tired. YANKEE STADIUM in gold letters. The Bronx. More American movies, more lives that weren’t hers but that she lived anyways. She shivered, and hoped he wouldn’t notice behind his sunglasses.

Flying is stupid.

The thought bounced around through a jet-lagged Tucker's head. The flight had lasted nearly nearly two days, if he had done the math correctly, and he knew that the lovely blue planet that he resided upon wasn't that large. The passengers on the plane were all horrendously silent as well, and all very strange looking. Tucker saw no demonstration of any extraordinary abilities, and decided to keep his own under wraps for the time being, though he could very well bring the entire plane down with a bit of focus. The idea frightened him, and he brushed it aside as they landed quite smoothly upon the immobile ground. He miserably stumbled out of the plane, blinded by the harsh sunlight. Perfect weather, the voice he had heard said. Perfect weather and a side of a terrible headache and a bad gut feeling of what you had gotten yourself into, more like it.

He followed the moving blur of what he had assumed to be people and eventually came to a shuddering stop when an annoyingly loud voice nearly shattered his still-dazed ears. Tucker gathered that he was to head over to the barracks, and the HD did not seem to be enthused over the drastically low quantity of females. He assumed that he would eventually be able to meet everyone though, at an orientation of sorts. This excited him, as he had accepted this odd invitation to further explore his powers in the first place, and what better way to deepen your understanding on somewhat volatile abilities than to show them off to bunk mates, right? He sauntered over the the now more-defined mass of people and followed them without hesitation. The group split, some having gone to the barracks and others taking a stop at a shady building. Tucker thought it right to make friends, and quietly followed a group to the shaded area from a distance.

After having waited for a small conversation to start up between a tobacco user and their now non-smoking companion, Tucker gave a small wave toward the two with intention of introducing himself. He held his tongue in the case that they didn't want to return his greeting.

Glancing around Alex made note of the track the only real thing she saw that would keep her indoors long enough to make use of the facilities on this floor, preferring to practice her trade somewhere less bustling and quieter. Even when she did competitions the cheering and humming of the crowd only served as a distractions, shaking her head to clear the thoughts of home, Alexandria sighed before stepping once more into the stream of traffic thankfully she supposed with all the super powered types mixed in people gave one another a wide berth just incase.

Biting her lower lip slightly she looked around again trying to remember which direction the hologram had shown the hall of barracks to be in before grinning as she spotted them jumping up and down in success making sure beeline in that direction exchange a few excuse me and sorry as her case bumped into a few people.

Detaching herself from the crowd she breathed a sigh of relief, always having a strong reversion to crowds areas, before walking down the hall counting of the number of doors cheerfully stopping in front of the seventeenth one. "Guess it's this one." She muttered softly once more pushing her glass back up on top of her head, tilting it slightly as looked at the small panel curious as to how the door opened before a small beam shot into her eye making her pull back blinking several times as a cool metallic voice echoed in the hall,

"Retinal Scan accepted. Welcome Alexandria Whyte."

The voice was followed by a small click as the door opened, shaking her head slightly before grinning again Alex pulled her shades down again before stepping into the room looking around what she gathered to be the living space, more so perhaps designed to get the barracks inhabitants to socialize with each other, looking down to observe the rather large Q on the floor in case they forgot what barracks they were in.

'A lot nicer then summer camp it seems...' She mused to herself before heading towards the door marked with a female sign wondering who all she would be roooming with more so wanting to clean her guns as she opened the door with a small click walking in seeing someone else was there.

"Oh, um hi." Alex said biting her lip again before walking over to an unclaimed bed dropping her bag and the gun case on it before flopping down on it herself, already feeling the jet lag sticking in.

Stefan finished making his sandwich, put away the stuff he hadn't used and turned around snack in hand, trying to decide what to do. Too many people all milling around the beds, he didn't really care about where he slept long as he had a roof on his head so he'd pick later. He wasn't about to go back outside, he'd just gotten in. Someone else had just arrived, but she didn't seem interested in milling around the living room and he wasn't about to go check out the girls' dorm. Looked like the only option left was the good old TV. He hadn't watched much in the past few years, so he might as well see what was happening. Dropping the dirty knife in the sink, he sat down a fair distance away from Vincent and started munching on his food while watching whatever was on the TV. His roommate didn't seem all that comfortable, hadn't said a word, just came in, sat there and turned on the TV. They were both more or less equally disheveled, he just seemed so...squeamish. "So hey bro, what's your name?". He might as well try to strike a conversation.

After the man came in I replied to Hanzō “It’s nice to meet you Hanzō” whilst saying this he seemed to be collecting what seemed to be some sort of bomb, in a lower part of box seemed to be blow-darts and then at the bottom throwing knifes and placing them under his bead. each to their own I suppose then finally revealing two katana like swords then left to meditate by the looks of things.

I then turned to man who had just walked in and said: “Afternoon,” I walked up to the panoramic window and looked outside, then walked up to my bed with the Bergen on it and started unpacking. I had only packed essentials such as my weapons, ammo and clothes. Grabbing the crossbow by the scope I placed it on the bed followed by the pistol in which I put in the holster on my right leg. Putting the rifle under the bed I packed my clothes into the dresser got up and said: “Aye it is hot weather I’m sure you’ll get used to it.” I got up and walked to him “I think I’m going to get a drink, do you want something? After waiting for his reply I walked towards the door. And said “Sorry I forgot to say, the names Leo or prophet in battle. And you are?”

Vincent quickly becomes engrossed in the TV while Stefan makes his sandwich. Currently it was set to an American news channel. It amazed him how willing they seemed to talk about absolute tripe, hopping from pointless celebrity topic to pointless political ‘scandal’. He was frankly amazed at home unfocused it was at times. He begins to think maybe he’s been reading the newspaper too long, the sound of a knife clanging into a sink only barely registering in the back of his mind.

Stefan’s sudden approach goes unnoticed the little guy, Vince squeaking in surprise. He quickly turns towards him, the air growing…very hot for a few moments before cooling back down. “Uhm, yes name. I have got a name. Um…Vincent Mysca.” He says rapidly. “Vincent is my name. Um...some people call me Vince though. So...whatever you want I guess.”