Luminous Beings

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn barely had time to react before Boat Farmer picked her up and hurled her - Lynn would have been worried, but as per usual, she was a bit floatier than the laws of physics would normally suggest she be, which was a nifty skill Lynn had. Given her size and tendency to shit talk larger individuals, she had a history of being thrown around. Lynn rolled without much damage, the force radiated off as heat as she went. Lynn stood up, watching Archie freak out.

"Alright Fish Boy," she said, a grin spreading across her face. "Let's fuckin' dance." Explained why they had him locked down. Spoons caught a table the same way Lynn figured she tended to catch verbal trauma and put it down. Least she had someone still on Team Vaguely Human.

Lynn turned to see the kids remaining in the cafeteria.

Kids. A lot of them young.

There was no choice at that point. She would have anyway, but she was really in this now.

She took off her hoodie, revealing the white tanktop underneath, tucked into her jeans. The tanktop was an extra small and still hung off her frame a bit, her arms thin and wiry, the black wings of her phoenix tattoo stretching from underneath the shoulder straps into visibility. Lynn was quite literally half the height of Archie at this point, the beast stretching and bursting out.

"Oy! Spoons! Kick the fuck out of him before he's up and angry!" Lynn said. She turned to the terrified group of teenagers and kids. "Hey, all of you," Lynn shouted. As she did so, she began to fuel her power, letting the air around her rush in. Her hair bust in flame and her eyes began to burn to match, a golden light that flickered around her as heat started to roil off her form. The smell of smoke and charcoal came off her, which she was hoping for. She wanted Archie's nose on her and none of those little brats. "Get out of here and find something to bar the door shut. Someone call for help if any of these worthless security officers are still around." Her false flag theory was starting to hold a little weight, after all.
If Spoons could buy her some time, she might be able to melt the doors shut and trap Boat Farmer in here. That, of course, would pose some problems for them, but not too big a problem. Lynn may not have paid much attention in school, but she had, by academics or necessity, learned a few things about biochemistry. The first was that everyone needs oxygen, and big motherfuckers need it a lot more than little motherfuckers. If they could dance around this guy, Lynn could smoke him out eventually.

Lynn lay her hoodie down gently beside her and watched Spoons for a minute. She'd ripped off her inhibitor necklace, which made Lynn wonder what it did in the first place. "About time, Spoons!" she shouted, hoping to draw Archie's attention as well. "Now that your nuva ring is off, go ahead and fuck him!"

Lynn took a minute to assess her surroundings. If this really was him, it was a bad sign, but Lynn figured it wasn't. He was way too much of a puppy dog to be in the driver's seat right now. That hopefully meant he was stupid, which was good. Stupid and big was a lot better than smart and big. Lynn had gotten her ass whipped by both, and the latter tended to be far more painful. This was also about as perfect a situation as Lynn could ask for. There was no way she got in trouble for beating the fuck out of this thing, given that the security had vanished into thin air, and she also maintained mad street cred with everyone for doing so. Win-win.

Now Lynn wasn't going to deny Archie was turning into one big motherfucker. But Lynn had fought big before. Maybe not this big, but pretty big. If you have over five inches on someone in a fight, in Lynn's book, the rest was gravy. She was going to have to get in close the same as if he was only six feet tall. So that was familiar territory. Lynn took a deep breath and smoke began to curl off her, her tanktop singing and burning along with her jeans. She was burning bright now, the air around her heating like a convection oven. Lynn didn't know much about lizards, but she was pretty sure snakes had like heat-seeking vision or something, and she was operating off a similar principle. She glanced up at the sprinklers. We'll make them work for us. Let's cook this bastard. Superheated water was only a friend to her in this room. A lot of steam would help - and big guys didn't like slipping and falling very well. Lynn thought. She had to be careful with her powers, and had learned a long time ago to notice what was around her before she really lost her cool - a punch or two was fine, but this was going to take some big guns, and Lynn didn't intend to asphyxiate herself in an airtight room or blow herself into space because of -

Ah. Lynn turned and glanced over at the kitchens. French fries. She didn't care how tough those scales of his were. Lynn's brain was scrambling to put together a haymaker he'd feel tomorrow.

Lynn jumped up onto one of the tables, some thirty feet away from the beast. "Ay Spoons!" Lynn shouted. "Get your fuckin' dancing shoes on. Get him in there, alright?" she shouted, pointing towards the kitchens. That was away from the kids, and towards the place where Lynn had a bit more firepower. Lynn turned to Archie, letting her fingers dance and limber up. She hoped Natalie had more guts than she had at lunch. Lynn figured she was at menopause levels of rage right now, which is what Lynn was hoping for. They needed to trip Big Ugly up long enough to let the munchkins scramble off.

"Hey Rainbow Fish!" she shouted, making her form as bright as she could, her semi-digested meal wicked away for calories, the air around her getting hotter. Lynn's hair began to glow intensely, bright yellow at the edges and a flickering blue at the roots. "You're missing a fuckin' scale!" The hard plastic of the lunch table beneath her began to melt, which was what she wanted. Sparks burst off her shoulders, the phoenix tattoo burning white. Then she hopped to the next one and started moving towards the next table, eyes on the lizard. Away from the munchkins. Look at me, you big ugly lizard. I bet those eyes aren't heat-resistant.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

If one had been paying attention only to Lynn - and this was unlikely, given the freakish helmet man that fell from the rafters and crashed onto their table (knocking Lynn's plate into her lap and sending her silverware scattering away; a split-second later, Lynn reached for a knife that was not there), they would've seen Lynn light up. Quite literally - her eyes and hair began to glow brightly for a moment, and any thought of the power-monitoring nanotech in her veins was ignored. Lynn was up on her feet and ready to throw down but he was moving along, and even Lynn couldn't see anything particularly malicious in his behavior. He looks like they sent an astronaut up here but they let Hot Topic run his wardrobe instead of NASA.

What the hell? He still deserved an ass-whooping for startling her. Lynn would've started swinging, but they played by different rules here. I'm not getting the Spoons treatment on day one, Lynn told herself, forcing her curled up fists down to her sides. Still, Lynn figured they couldn't get mad at her for self-defense, and she kept her eyes on the -

...no. What else was going on? This seemed an awful lot like a distraction. Lynn scanned the room, looking around. Was this just some lone wolf fuckery? She figured it might be some kind of orientation stunt, but that helmet looked awfully expensive to be a prank. Lynn had seen (and, perhaps, participated in) enough street hustles to know this set-up. Wave one hand at somebody and pick their pocket with the other. Lynn looked around the dining hall but saw nothing. This could've been a pretty good excuse to flood the place with security if they were trying to make a move on Spoons or something, but she figured that couldn't be it, because the security here was woefully incompetent. Lynn considered flooring the prankster just to show them up, but that would've meant doing the security a favor, and Lynn was not about to be seen as, considered, or even fall vaguely into the realm of narc-dom.

Lynn looked back (missing Archie's attempt to apprehend the helmet man) to see Archie take a mean boot to the face. Lynn grimaced. She'd taken one or two before. Lynn, with the sort of law degree that comes from being arrested, also knew that qualified as assault with a deadly weapon. Aim below the waist, bro. Hurts more and they can't pin attempted murder on you. Lynn did bristle up at that. She and Boat Farmer and Spoons and the Cranky One weren't exactly buddy-buddy, but Lynn, for a myriad of reasons, wasn't going to let anybody come on in and kick around the top dogs and scamper off. Lynn moved to melt that helmet into his skull but he was already gone. Christ, Boats, you got your ass beat by a tap dancer. That kick did look pretty serious, and there was no way this place had competent help coming. As long as this guy kept making a joke of them, the more she got a feel for what the Promise's security was like. So far, she wasn't terribly impressed. The steel boot wasn't a cool move, but Lynn figured she might've done the same in his position. I wouldn't have gotten grabbed, though, and also I wouldn't be dancing.

Lynn moved over to Archie, coming around the table. Her hair flickered rapidly, yellow and red, and her eyes glowed softly. There was a faint light pulsing from her skin in rhythm with the hair, but Lynn didn't push things further. She was staying under the radar, but if she got a hand on the Helmet man, he was going down. Have fun tap-dancing with rubber melted to your feet. He was farther down the table, though, and Lynn wasn't concerned about him coming back. The cafeteria was in pure chaos, which Lynn did find amusing. Lynn, given the height differential, had some difficulty reaching up to Archie's face. She also couldn't remember his name, which was unfortunate. "Hold still," she told him, her tone completely devoid of bedside manner. "You're going to be fine."

This was a boldfaced lie. Dude took a steel boot to the face. Lynn figured he might be concussed at best or starring in inspirational hallmark movies about people who spent ten years learning how to walk again at worse. Or, maybe whatever parahuman tricks were up his sleeve made him tough like her. Lynn looked into his eyes and grunted for a minute, making her own flare up for a second. His eyes didn't dilate. Lynn had picked up that trick a while back, given the disturbing propensity for head trauma in the last crew she ran with. "Okay, Fish Boy. You're fucked. Lay down before Daft Punk comes back and curbstomps you or something." Lynn put her hand on the side of his face and kept her heat at a steady, low level, figuring that might help.

Lynn blinked. Why am I doing this? I should just let him seizure out or something. Lynn chewed on her lip for a second. She didn't care about these people, you know, and she wanted to make that clear - but, at the same time, it...well, truthfully, Lynn couldn't really find a good justifiation for why she was doing it. Part of her, for a second, thought that Archie looked like Megan or Clarita had, with their bruises and scrapes, small and shaking, but that thought flickered out of her mind as quickly as it came. This guy was strapped up when they brought him in. He was a threat, and she was helping him. That pissed her off, and she wasn't about to let people say she was being a little bitch by helping someone out. Time to clarify that.

"Hey, you two," she said to Amelia and Natalie. "One of you go sort through the pile of dipshits that run this place and find a doctor." Lynn turned and saw a girl dressed entirely in denim. "Hey, Denim," she shouted to Keaton. Gimme your jacket." She looked back at Amelia. "You too. We gotta, like, prop his head up or some shit." Lynn had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but that was not about to stop her. For a moment, she figured she should probably take off her own hooodie if she was asking these two to do the same, but that was not happening if Lynn could help it. She knew they couldn't let him fall asleep, though, or he would die. Not that Lynn was particularly concerned - that meant there'd be one less contender for king of the mountain. But, Lynn thought, and this thought bore a sneaking resemblance to the shrink, He's really only been nice to you, and helping him doesn't make you look weak. Oh well. Time to sort that out later.

"Hey," she told Archie, looking down at him. The smell of smoke began to drift off her. "Tell me, like, who the president is, or whatever. You still alive in there?" Lynn contemplated telling him that if he stroked out and started shooting laser beams or lightning bolts at her, she was going to hit him a hell of a lot harder than that guy did, but she figured that may not be necessary. She kept one hand where the boot at had hit, and the other at her side, fingers dancing, light flickering around them. Lynn alternated her glances between Archie, where the Helmet Man had run off, and at the rafters. You won't catch me off-guard again.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn was content - there was still some game here, most certainly, but she was confident she was at least winning. The punk girl had backed off a bit, and Natalie had gone all quiet. She didn't care if Spoons could pick her up and throw her back to Earth one-handed, as long as nobody was trying to start shit with one Cordelia Lynn Holmes, her pride was intact. Now Archie was the one throwing her for a loop. She had told him the next best thing to fuck right off, but he'd bounced back like a tackling dummy and started talking about love. Love? Who had said anything about that? Lynn shifted in her seat. This didn't make sense. They must have set this up. Surely. All three of them coming here together to sit by her? They were acting like strangers and sizing her up, yes, it was the only thing that made sense, and Lynn wasn't nobody's fool, she wasn't gonna -

Lynn stared down at her plate. It was empty.

She glanced back up at them, chewing on her lip.

None of them looked like they had any tattoos - at least not the kinds Lynn had an eye out for. Noses weren't crooked. Nobody'd been punching their ears. No close attention to color schemes. Boat Farmer either had the best poker face Lynn had ever seen or was on the up and up. Spoons seemed very seriously driven to not start any shit, and Lynn figured that was more parahuman that probationary in nature. Lynn could've put down Amelia's outfit to cover rent at the last place she'd stayed at (there was a brief jolt at that, and Lynn zoned out of the conversation for a second, bitter), which didn't lend her to think she was involved in anything.

Lynn was forced to concede there was - slightly, ever so slightly - the possibility they were just looking for conversation. And if - and Lynn wasn't admitting that this was the case - they were just doing that, she would just look like an asshole if she antagonized them further. And that would prove very bad if Spoons was as big a bruiser as she was letting on, or if Archie's puppy dog act was hiding one mean bite. So maybe she'd just...just let them think it was working, Hrng. She didn't like these mind games.

They were talking about what they did - Lynn was scrambling to figure out what answer to that question she could put together that would not immediately alienate them when the other two started talking about their powers. Lynn wasn't used to people not playing their cards so close to their chest. She wasn't about to spill all her secrets then and there, but at the same time, she'd look like a total bitch if she didn't. Ugh. This is why I sat alone.

"Teleporting's neat," Lynn said idly. She turned and looked at the huge glass window, the planet that was ten minutes and however many hundreds of miles away. She let her eyes linger for a minute and then glanced back at Amelia. She didn't have much hope - and hope was dumb, anyways - given that she struggled to clear a first down if people were watching (God, between her and Spoons, what with the performance issues at this school? Am I the only well-adjusted one?), Lynn wasn't expecting a get out of jail free ticket, but once again, she - through gritted, grinding teeth - was forced to admit it might behoove her slightly to not be a total dick to Amelia. She gave it a moment of quiet, choosing her words. A strand of hair fell loose from where she'd bound it all back, slowly shifting to blue. "I'm nothing fancy. Just a real firecracker."

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

No.

No.

This was not the Lollipop Guild, or the YMCA, or the Sunshine House. Lynn was not dealing with any more greasers who wanted to whine about the Soc's. Another girl came up saying they were the outsiders, so she was hanging with them. She also didn't acknowledge Lynn, which did give her a moment's pause. Lynn sized her up briefly. Looked like a Nirvana fan. Looked edgy. Lynn stared at her jeans for a minute. Lynn had tried to take a pair of those off the rack once, or at least ones like em. They were close to a hundred dollars, and this girl had torn holes in them.

Yeah, I bet being one of the cool kids is a real struggle, isn't it?

Plus, Lynn was miffed about the puking comment. She didn't know if that was targeted at her specifically or not, but Lynn wasn't feeling it.

Lynn turned back to her meal, focusing intently on her food. She wasn't going to get in trouble for starting shit on the first day, but these people were making it hard. Farm Boy responded to her, and that did throw her for a loop. North Carolina? An island? Lynn's brain started whirling, but she had no idea of what that place was. A fishing place didn't make any sense. Hmm. She glanced back over at him. Fishing and farming were pretty close. Fishing is just boat farming. She wasn't really that far off the mark, you know. Working with his old man was interesting. Lynn got the feeling there was a missing piece or two in Archie's family reunion jigsaw puzzle, which at least garnered him a notch of respect in her book. Then he made the lava lamp comment and Lynn's eyes narrowe. She couldn't figure out what Fish Farmer was up to. If this was some kind of game, he was either a genius, or playing terrible. She just nodded. I think he's an idiot, and it's not worth getting the needle over an idiot. Lynn told herself. She could almost hear the juvy appointed counselor's smiling words at that. Oh fuck right off, old man. Lynn blinked and stared at her food. Christ, I'm going crazy.

Then he turned the question back on her, and Lynn felt like an idiot. I walked into a conversation. I just wanted to eat. Damnit. "Here and there," Lynn said, taking another bite. She tried to put as much emphasis as possible into the silent period at the end of that sentence so as to deter further questioning. Lynn's plan was to focus on her food until Fish Farm asked another icebreaker or New Girl asked her if they wanted to go throw rocks at the principal's Mercedes when the shy one started to flip her shit.

Now this was something interesting. Her collar blinked some different colors as she got more pissed off. Lynn took note of that, and it sobered her up quick. There are worse things than the needle on this fucking trash can. Still, it made Lynn grin. Okay. She was getting it now. If Archie was one of the big dogs, and this girl was too, Lynn wasn't about to let them be the only ones to hump the fire hydrant.

"Jesus Christ, Spoons," Lynn said. "It's that easy to rile you up? They don't need a collar to keep you in line, just a Valium. At least knock the air out of this one when you go mental," Lynn nodded at Amelia. "If someone complains about fitting in one more time they're going to put you in the next Disney movie." Lynn turned back to her food and resumed eating. "And go bitch about your civil liberties somewhere else. If you don't think this place is wired you're out of your mind, and I'm not going necklace shopping on day one."

Lynn knew the key to this strategic shit talking was the final point. She looked back at her food and did not make eye contact, relaxed and steady. Lynn had been in some rough situations before - she didn't know what these three had done, or what they could do, but Lynn would've bet what few bucks she had that they'd never been in this situation before. Surrounded by people all deadlier than you, maybe who wanted to kill you. Maybe Spoons and Miss Anarchy could wreck her. Lynn figured she could knock out a few teeth at least, but maybe they'd wreck her. Wouldn't matter if they didn't think they could. Lynn wanted them to know, truly, she did not care. At least Necklace had been quiet until she had a breakdown. Good Lord, if this was day one, Lynn was steering clear once prom season came around and she didn't get a ticket. And New Girl was looking for trouble, but she was gonna get the hammer first and fast. Lynn didn't intend to be in the blast radius of either of those two. Lynn finished her plate and slurped on her drink, full and content. She debated asking Necklace to go fetch her thirds, but figured poking the bear that far probably wasn't wise. Never thought I'd be the stable one in the room.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn had completely crushed one plate of food - four chicken tenders, fries, and mac and cheese - and set it to the side by the time Archie had come a-knockin'. It would probably take sharper scientific minds than Ms. Holmes' - which is, come to think of it, not saying much - to determine whether Lynn's food consumption was just her power catching up for reheating her, or a girl trying to put a dent in the tremendous caloric debt she'd racked up in her nutritional ledger. Lynn ate quickly and feverishly, not stopping to savor the food or enjoy the flavor. As she ate, she glanced around, and periodically picked up her spoon and surreptitiously held the back of it angled to look over her shoulder. If one were watching Lynn intently, one would have not only fueled Lynn's paranoia, but one would also perhaps see a food baby forming as she ate.

Then this guy comes along.

Lynn did not respond at first. That was a bitch move.

Lynn took another bite (green beans) and chewed. Her hair, from the roots, slowly began to turn a light blue, streaking up towards the ends of her hair. Tightly bound as her hair was today, this was a bit more apparent than it would normally be. Lynn glanced over at him, and hit a wall of sudden confusion. Why had they bound this one up? Lynn figured he had to have some real wild ability to justify it. I could thrash him, Lynn thought, looking him over as she swallowed. Sure he's big, but look at the way he walks. No tattoos, no nothing. Nose was straight. No cauliflower on his ears. Arms had a bit of wear and tear but nothing she'd raise an eyebrow at. Lynn could tell a burn mark when she saw one, though, and the slightest of grins tugged at the side of her lip. Nice to know who's fireproof and who isn't. Hm. He looked like he had a little muscle on him, but didn't strike Lynn as one of those gym rat fuckboys. Hard labor? He had a bit of a drawl, too. Lynn figured he was a farm boy. He was tan, but she could see it was fading a bit. Silver Collar Girl was pale too. Lynn thought on her own confinement for the last bit. They were in cells too. Lynn tugged up one of her sleeves, revealing a tattoo. The sleeve had been rolled up some five or six times, and began creeping back down Lynn's skinny forearm as she turned back to her food.

Then the Addams girl. Lynn didn't pay her much attention. She looked tired. Lynn figured they all were, but this shit looked deeper. She looked like she got laid off or something. What's she hiding? That silver collar certainly wasn't there by her choice. She was certainly frail and skinny too, but not like Lynn. No, this one was skinny by choice. That pissed Lynn off a bit. The girl had close to six inches on Lynn, and Lynn knew where that fuckin' came from.

She swallowed her bite and took another. The girl said her name. Natalie. Wednesday. Natalie and Archie. Hm. Lynn didn't really see what these two were bringing to the table. Archie was trying to make friends, which annoyed her. To Lynn, the only viable form of networking was offering someone a cigarette or approaching them for the sole purpose of informing them that you had followed them on Soundcloud. But, the other side of Lynn's mind thought, They were strapped up for a reason too. Neither looked like they were in the same boat as Lynn was - Lynn didn't see any tattoos on either of them, and she was willing to bet neither of these two had really been in lockup. Maybe a superpowered bender. That made Lynn rethink her initial conversational opener. That meant these two were packing some heat, especially if they still had the anti-werewolf choker on Grey Eyes. As for Farm Boy, Lynn wasn't sure. She'd figure it out. Lynn always got an answer.

Just wasn't always the right one.

The possibility that this guy was hitting on them, what with the sexual kink opener, never once crossed Lynn's mind. She didn't have much experience in flirting. Surprisingly.

So if these two were the big dogs in the joint with her, she wanted to see what the hype was about. They had the redneck bound up like that cannibal guy in that one movie (marking the one and only time Lynn had wanted to be a cop, and the only reason she had not fought her juvy-mandated counseling sessions. She was disappointed with who she was assigned to). They still had this girl bound. Alright. She'll play ball. Lynn figured it was as good a chance as any this guy was trying to see what she was about, and see if he should throw the first punch or not. The dicks were out and Lynn was more than willing to slap a ruler down first. Gray Eyes - Gray Eyes was not having it. Gray Eyes wanted to be alone. Now in Lynn's experience, that usually meant that Gray Eyes was packing a yard stick when everybody else was bringing a ruler. Not that it bothered Lynn. She'd gotten her ass beat by some strong motherfuckers before, and she could take it again. But Gray Eyes - or Natalie, or whatever - really didn't seem interested. This one listens to coffeshop music. Cool by Lynn. Alone meant not starting shit, and Lynn wasn't looking to start shit (at least, this was her internal narrative. Innumerable other sources could contradict this claim). But the fact of the matter was that Lynn knew how the Man played ball. They were being watched. They'd gotten bound up tight. Now these other kids, she was sure they could pull off some fancy tricks too - maybe somebody has .45's for fingers or something - but the three of them were on the radar from the get-go. This was familiar territory for Lynn. But she knew they might need an eye out for each other. At the very least, to make sure one of them wasn't trying to make sure they weren't the only big bad wolf in the woods. I'm nobody's fool, Farm Boy.

"Lynn." Lynn said, taking another bite. She took her time. The blue crept up from the bottom of her irises and her hair alike without Lynn's knowledge, a flicker of red dancing along the edges. Lynn rolled up her sleeve again. She washed down her bite and turned to look at them in earnest, idly twisting a french fry in some ketchup with her hand. "Where are you from?" she asked.

Lynn, in another life, one in which she had a modicum or two more respect for authority and perhaps a stronger sense of legal ethics, would've made a very fine detective. She liked the game. She liked figuring out when other people were planning their sucker punch on her. Then, it was just a punch, and they were the suckers. She'd see what they were up to. She'd see what game he was playing.

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Lynn

Lynn had never been on an airplane before in her entire life. She had never even stepped foot in an airport.

Lynn hated it. She hated the stupid smug faces as they strapped her in. She hated all the conversations they'd had before about this. She hated turning her arm over for some doc to draw boiling blood from as a man kept his finger on the trigger of a rifle behind her. She hated the quarantine room where she'd done push-ups and shadowboxed until her un-enhanced lungs set to wheezing and her legs gave way, stomach rumbling enough to shake her bones.

The thing she hated most was that they'd taken her powers from her.

She was cold. Lynn had only been cold three or four times before that she could recall. Underneath the far-too-baggy sweatshirt was not much in the way of body fat. Lynn shivered in the recycled air on-board as they ran system checks. A thousand fuckin rockets strapped to this thing and it feels like we're up a polar bear's ass. Lynn was shivering. Her legs couldn't reach the floor of her seat. She was strapped in so she couldn't move. When they began to take off, Lynn's stomach had such a visceral reaction that she was confident she was going to hurl. She forced it down. She was not going to be the little bitch who did this on the first day. Some of these pansies were holding hands or praying or reciting poetry but none of them were hurling and she was not going to be the first, just announcing to the world they couldn't handle themselves. One guy looked to be strapped down even more than she was. Lynn took interest, chewing on a bloodied lip and observing him for a minute. This one is the big bad wolf? Lynn looked him over. He didn't look all that tough. Maybe he killed a guy or something, who knew.

And there was a very small part of her that glanced at the window, and for just a second, forgot the cold and the bitterness and just stared out at all the blue.

They were there soon enough, which was fine by Lynn. She was still shivering from the air. Being cold was the worst sensation that Lynn could imagine. Vaguely, she wondered how much power she burned just staying warm throughout the day. I should probably, like, wear better socks or some shit. They unstrapped Lynn and asked polite questions which she ignored, staring at the headrest in front of her. This shit shouldn't even have been legal. She wondered how long ago they'd had the technology to get this many people to the moon. Certainly not in '69. Lynn hit the floor with shaky legs and braced herself on the arm rest for a moment, regaining her footing. Christ. All of this was fucked up.

Lynn's mind was, above all else, resilient. She had been in too many hairy situations or tough times to really stop and mull over the world around her that frequently. Lynn operated on some pretty simple principles: reject the narrative presented to you, because it's frequently a lie. Avoid complicating that narrative. Fuck over whoever told you that narrative just to be sure. But what she was seeing and feeling was so beyond anything she could have comprehended. She was on a spaceship. There was altered gravity and...Lynn noticed her heart was hammering inside her chest, and she wasn't quite as cold. On her last day on the outside of all of this, some three months before, she'd had to steal a wallet to buy dinner.

She was on a spaceship.

The other principles she could hold fast to. Lynn looked around the pod slowly, marking the faces of all of the Promise staff. There was the lanky bitch that strapped her into the seat. That acne-ridden motherfucker who probably flipped the switch on their powers. They'd made her cold, and small, and made her legs swing off the floor, jostled against the seat because she was just barely tall enough for their rig. Lynn committed their faces to her memory. It did not occur to her that letting someone whose presence catalyzed explosions run uninhibited on a spaceship might have ended disastrously, nor did it occur to Lynn that her thrusting into the back of the seat in front of her unrestrained would have tested even her own regenerative capabilities. Stuff like that complicated the narrative. The narrative was simple.

They might've put her in a golden cage, but there was nobody who could make Cordelia Lynn Holmes sing.

She took a moment to gain her footing, closing her eyes. The cold? Fuck the cold. She was ice cold. Lynn let herself just marinate in it for a moment, getting good and pissed off. She clenched her teeth tight so no one would see them chatter. Lynn's ratty brown hair was pulled back tight as she straightened up and grabbed her luggage - a small, worn backpack, primarily held together by duct tape, and a duffel bag that did not even appear to be halfway full. She managed to sling it over her shoulder with slight difficulty. She walked out, forcing herself to keep her face deadpan as she handled the gravity switch.

Lynn's stomach did not keep so tight a deadpan.

She seized onto the nearest trash can, the smell of vomit flooding her nose (at least I'm not the only one, Lynn barely had time to think) as she contributed to it. Lynn stood back up, shaking, absolutely fuming.

God, she was going to somehow make Acne-Face's appearance uglier once she got the chance. Lynn steadied herself and followed the glowing tiles, trying to stay focused. The truth was that she could hardly handle everything going on. This was easily the nicest place she had ever been in. She was back in a school that was sort of a juvy, and was unsure which one she was better equipped to handle. The truth is that under all the ash and choking sour smoke there was, somewhere, a girl who couldn't believe she was up in the stars. But fuck you if you think for one second you were getting her to come out and play.

Lynn turned the corner to the orientation staff and only refrained from loud and violent cursing due to several weeks of court-mandated counseling. Her counselor had been kind of a total bitch, but he was cool sometimes. Lynn took a deep breath, feeling her fire come back to her. She was warming up, slowly, as the nullifier wore off. It'd been the first time in a little while, and it felt good. Her teeth stopped chattering and her bag was getting lighter and lighter. Slowly, subtly, her hair stared to change color, going from a mousy brown to a bright yellow, bright as the sun they'd been threatened to be shot into. She went ahead into the cafeteria and put her back to a wall, surveying the room. Okay, there was one girl wearing a shock collar. Lynn took a bit of offense to that. They never would've gotten on on her, of course, because she would never let the Man stick it to her like that - but how come they hadn't tried, huh?

Lynn figured she wasn't gaining anything by lingering around, and, paranoia or no, she hadn't had this much food before her in a long, long time. Lynn filled up her tray with as much food as she could carry and settled at a table, paying no attention to where she sat other than to distance herself a bit from those near her. She would've preferred a corner seat but there was no such luck. Lynn ate steadily and quickly, manners disregarded, not once taking her backpack off.

Lynn had seen too many broken promises to really be excited about this one.

Academy 003: Seeds of Change (Aw shit, here we go again edition)

l

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

Is there like a plot reason the security is so bad D can sneak on? Because that opens some doors for Lynn's shenanigans

Academy 003: Seeds of Change (Aw shit, here we go again edition)

x

The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.

@Sewer Rat Holy shit that's so spot on. The guy's "what the fuck" is just Lynn's reaction.

I think it'd be fun to steadily have Lynn maintain that Keaton has no powers and is just really fucking lucky with her guesses.