Katja realized that she might have come off a little bit too strong at the end. What was meant to be an invitation for dialogue at a later date might have come off to some as a threat. But she thought most would see it the way she intended it to be, considering she had just reached out with an olive branch to the people who were preparing to leave Blackjack for whatever reason. She figured that the offer of a clean slate would at least calm down the mood of everyone, giving people the chance to rethink or affirm their choice without any bad blood between them.

As it turned out, this was incredibly naive.

Iñigo made his objections heard, and the more he spoke the more frustrated Katja became. She hadn’t tried to shame any of them for instance and she had no idea how he got to that. The frustration turned into anger when Iñigo turned his attention towards Haleigh. She had just tried to apologize to all of them for her zealousness earlier in the day, and here Iñigo threw it back into her face. Not only that, he ended his preaching with an unmistakable threat.

And almost immediately after that the second whistle sounded and all efforts of repairing the broken bond were rendered in vain. Instead, it seems that more bridges were burned because of it.

Katja could barely control her anger at this point. Had she not stepped back in line earlier she’d likely have gone for his throat to make sure he’d never be able to speak like that to Haleigh, or anyone else for that matter, ever again. But as she got ready to storm at Iñigo someone else cut in front of her.

Out of all the people there it was Calliope who first stepped up for Blackjack. Her intervention came as a shock to Katja, who hadn’t expected Calliope to really care for them. Though in hindsight she figured that the signs had been there for a while. She realized that she’d have to adjust her earlier preconceptions about Calliope, preconceptions which Katja still had because of Calliope’s father.

Haleigh quickly followed up on it, giving Iñigo a piece of her mind as well. Both these girls’ interjections had the added effect of calming Katja down. There wasn’t any need for her to say anything that hadn’t already been said. The only thing she did was look Iñigo up and down for a final time before scoffing at the notion that he’d be able to make his threat a reality towards any of Blackjack.

Katja let her gaze linger on Trace for a moment, as while the pain of seeing them leave had been overwhelmed by the rage towards Iñigo, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt at all. She bit her lip to prevent her from getting too emotional before looking away to the new Blackjack inductees. Rory seemed to be on the case of welcoming them and everyone looked to be more preoccupied with getting to their new Houses than to really make any small talk.

The Houses! With all of the commotion happening around the teamswap Katja had completely forgotten about the Houses! Opening her envelope she quickly read through all of the invitations. She honestly hadn’t thought of which House she’d wanted to join, but as she read through her options it was one invite in particular that caught her eyes.



“Gentleness.”

It made her pause for a moment as she kept re-reading that word for what must have been ten times. Katja had never considered herself gentle, most others hadn’t as their first impression either, and she couldn’t blame them. But here was one of the house leaders who did.

Looking up at the different Houses, it seemed like Alces was one of the less popular ones. From what she remembered it was them that had the least House Laurels, i.e. none, and they seemed to be considered as one of the passive Houses around. Not really a house where you’d go if you want to compete in a bunch of things. The corner of Katja’s lip curled into a smirk. That is of course, unless you see that as part of the challenge.

Approaching the House representative of House Alces with that smirk still plastered on her face, Katja extended her invitation to him. ”Katja Kruger reporting for duty! So euhm, you need me to bend through my knees or do you want me to put the cloak on myself” she said with a playful wink.

---

Iñigo remained unfazed while the former teammates were berating him for daring to express one's thoughts. It was like they were trying to get out the final word at the heartless fiend who abandoned his team while at rock bottom. Undoubtedly, everyone seated above was enjoying the spectacle below. Hell, even some of the participants had thoughts on the outburst. Makenna made her thoughts clear with a clever jab at him, earning a slight chuckle on his end. Iñigo did not care what some spoiled rich wise-ass had to say, but she did raise a decent point. Whatever chance of "making better first impressions" vanished the second he chose to say his piece. But that wasn't his reason for leaving Blackjacks behind. It was an act of self-perseverance from a dangerous situation.

By the time tensions subsided, the team swap and color ceremony ended with the faculty advisors introducing themselves to the newcomers. Aaron Matthews, the faculty advisor for Eclipse, seemed different enough (in a good way) based on his rather brief greeting before the chancellor interrupted to remind them of their house choices. Iñigo glanced over at his new teammates, who were mostly strangers to him, and felt sheer annoyance emitting from Suzanne Poots. It was clear someone was already not happy about the swap. He awkwardly waved at her and then focused on the envelope provided to him earlier. Inside were three invitations provided by three Houses, who saw enough potential to invite him for whatever reason. And when he tore the envelope up...

...invites from House Alces, House Ursus, and House Gulo fell into his hand. Honor, altruism, and...

Iñigo tossed away the House Gulo letter upon reading their reason for the invite, assuming it was some kind of cruel joke. He was indifferent to his remaining choices between the moose and the bear. House Alces and House Ursus, both of which he only learned about on the initiation packet provided to him while in the dentation center. But from what he had managed to remember, the former choice was reserved for "kind-hearted souls" while the latter was seemingly perfect for students who wanted to be lawyers or politicians. Both options did not make any sense to him; and yet, there was no arguing with their reason behind the choice laid in front of him. Otherwise, the administration would have no doubt made the choice for him instead. Iñigo did not want that to happen.

So, he dropped the House Alces invitation and went over to the podium with the letter from House Ursus in hand.

On his way there, Iñigo noticed that a lot of people were joining House Ursus, including a certain former team member who now hated his guts. Calliope de León would be an absolute pain to deal with even if she retained a sense of professionalism toward him out of obligation. No matter what, though, things were about to get even more awkward. When it was time, Iñigo held out the invitation for the House Ursus representatives to see. It became immediately apparent that his presence alone was enough of a controversy. Some of them stared at the invite and then at him as if a mistake had been made while a small group of students (ones that carried the bear crest on their blazers) were more or less displeased with his membership to their cherished House.

Iñigo attempted to ignore them and spoke with feigned confidence, "Iñigo Giménez-Pozo. I am here to accept your invitation if you still want me in your house, of course."

It was over. Trace slid on the Firebird band and handed the Blackjack one over. They heard the others’ conversations, and their pleas for them to stay together as a cohesive unit. Venom spat back and forth, but Trace didn’t offer anything to it. Why should they? They just wanted their bridges a little toasty, not immolated in a nuclear blast. They gave the girl that walked up, apparently a displaced student here, a thumbs up when they lectured them on staying loyal. It was an awkward gesture accompanied by an eyeroll.

Trace did give one last look over their shoulder at Katja before they made their way over to Firebird. If anything stung, it was losing someone wholly and entirely a good person. Still, it wasn’t as if they all weren’t trapped on this damn island together. They glanced over the new group with a bit of hesitation. If Blackjack was a carefully selected accumulation of different backgrounds, then this group was what happened when the leftovers were rammed into a casserole and called a “surprise.” They couldn’t get a beat on anyone immediately, other than one person that met their gaze. They gave them a fist bump and announced who they were and their pronouns. “Oh fuckin’ finally,” Trace said with a sigh on their lips. “Trace Whitelock, they/them,” and then they pointed at everyone else that wasn’t Ariel, “and I better not hear anythin’ fuckin’ different out of your mouths. Nice to meet you Ariel and Harlowe, if you ask real sweet, I’ll give you down low, but I got to run a couple of errands first.” They then pulled the invitations out of their coat with one hand and clenched their umbrella with the other. In the excitement of switching teams, they really hadn’t looked over the invitations. When they gave them a once over, there was hesitation in their walk. They’d been idly walking in that direction, but it came to a dead stop. “Fuckin’ what.” They glanced up and looked at those that were choosing their houses. That’s when they remembered something that they promised to do. A promise they’d made to a certain someone who annoyed them so greatly that they’d never hear the end of it otherwise. They pocketed their invitations and breathed deeply.

So, Trace held tightly onto their umbrella as they made their way toward the Ursus House. They’d been listening, they had heard not to approach a house they hadn’t been invited to. So, they preemptively spoke, “don’t worry, I’m not here to bloody try to join your house. I just have to tell her somethin’.” Trace pointed at Calliope. “A quick in and out, and I’ll bugger off.”
They then closed the distance between them and Calliope. “Can I talk to you real quick?”

Calliope turned when she heard a familiar voice. She hadn't expected Trace to speak to her, figuring they had all but decided to do away with Blackjack. "Oh, sure." Calliope walked a bit away from the other members of House Ursus to give her and Trace some privacy.
"What's up?"

“So, I’m sorry—” Trace interrupted themselves, “this isn’t about that. This is—look I ran into Banjo. Don’t worry, the wanker didn’t seek me out or anythin’, I was just in the path of his fuckin’ escape. He told me to tell Blackjack that he’s out of ICU. That he’s just in hospital now and can take visitors.” They paused. “I thought I’d tell you and only you, and you can… uh… let others know when you want. Get some alone time in with the piece of shit.”

"Well, I appreciate that. For what it's worth, I still hope we can be.....I don't know..friends? Acquaintances? Either way, might be in separate teams but we still have a whole campus together. May as well make use of it."

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’. We’re stuck on this bloody fuckin’ island together. I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re going to see my lily-white ass for the rest of your days here. Which—who knows—may not be long.” They exhaled. “That aside—I just got one more thing—do you like Banjo? And I’m not talkin’ ‘do you fancy him over a coffee and chat’, like… do you like him?”

Calliope may have been expecting a lot of things to come out of Trace's mouth, but she definitely did not expect that. Hell, she had been thinking about that too. "Oh....well....." God, how did she feel about Banjo? "I like him. When he was hurled through the air I freaked out. He makes me feel safe and seen, if that makes sense. But...I did just meet him. And..." Calli's thoughts drifted to Coop, a familiar face and one that grew up very handsome, "There's another. Maybe more. But I do like him, just don't know if I feel that way about him. Yet."

Calliope cringed a bit. God, this was so high school. "I sound like a bitch, don't I?"

“No you don’t, Calliope. We’re all stuck in here, and it’s like a thick hormone soup, and I’m bloody fuckin’ tired of it already.” They gave out a flat chuckle. “It’s just, you may want to tell him that. He’s blabberin’ on about how you’re amazin’ and he’s a sack of shit. You may want to set expectations now before he gets too weird about it. Fuckin’ Christ, I sound my father.”

They gripped the umbrella tighter. “But you’re right, we’ve been through a lot, and that’s bound to heighten’ emotions… obviously. Might want to remind him of that. Because you aren’t wrong about there bein’ just a slew of hot bodies around.” They glanced over at the Canis House, which might not have been noticeable had they not turned their head to look at it. “You—uh—don’t want to dip biscuit too soon, if you get my drift.”

Calliope laughed, surprised and happy that Trace was agreeing with her. "I will. He's a good guy." Calliope noticed Trace glance at the Canis house, wondering who it was Trace had their eye on. Rather than pry, Calliope left it alone, fully intending to grill Trace about it later. "Well now that the house situation is sorted, I'll head over to see him now. Thank you Trace. Hope we get to hang out soon, if only for a bit." Calliope heard Trace when they said it might not be long. But that was for Trace to decide.

“Yep, I got to go get accepted into Slytherin House, so you have fun. Tell him to wash his ass because I’m sure it’s disgustin’. Men always miss their asses.” They lifted a hand as if to wave goodbye before lowering it. That felt too personal. They were just a messenger. That was all.

They’d put the decision off long enough. That’s when they turned towards their house of choice, and their eyes widened as they saw someone standing among their ranks. Trace came up to House Alces. It felt weird to accept the invitation from them. A great mindfulness…, what did that mean exactly? Well, they glanced back at Calliope. Maybe it meant that. They loved giving advice if asked or not.

“Bloody hell it’s hot as newly made shit out here. I might need to borrow some of your shade,” they said to Katja with a smile. It was kind of a joke. They also may have angled themselves, so the tall woman did provide cover. “Trace Whitlock, here to join the great, big horny house—Alces. I guess when in Canada, go be a moose.”

Calliope, after speaking to Trace, returned to her house to finalize things. Once she was settled, she walked away to go see Banjo. Thanks to the conversation with Trace, they had a lot to talk about. As Calli walked forward she suddenly stopped. Banjo wasn't at the ICU anymore. And Trace didn't tell her where he was.

So where the hell was she going?

"Hey... Calliope!"

A short distance away stood Elle, out of uniform and sporting a NYC crewneck, jeans, sneakers, ponytail, and a canvas tote bag. She smiled warmly as she moved to approach her new teammate. "Are you busy? I've got a list of books to pick up for one of my patients. Y'know Banjo? Blonde, Australian, kind of a smartass?"

"Would you like to help me deliver them?"

Calli turned to face the girl. She recognized her from the ceremony as one of the new members of her team. That struck a nerve as she took one of the spots that the others left, though if Calli was being honest with herself, she did not miss Inigo or Makenna. "Oh, hey. Umm...you said patient? So you know where he is?"

As much as Calli wanted to see Banjo, it was weird some random girl would run up to her, claim to know him, and ask her to come along. But if Trace got a message from him, perhaps this girl did too.

"Oh, right. Let me introduce myself." Elle started, "I'm Elle. My community contribution is assisting patients in the infirmary. Banjo asked me to grab some books for him while he's out of class, and to let some of his friends know he could have visitors now." She smiled now. "You're top of his list, so I figured I'd just show you where he is instead of telling you."

"Okay, that makes more sense. Nice to meet you and welcome to Blackjack. Sure, we can go get his books. I am surprised he wants them. I figured he'd be lounging around grateful for the opportunity to take it easy for a bit. You know where to go better than I do, so lead the way."

Elle was glad to hear Calliope welcome her into Blackjack, but as Calliope went on she began to realize that her playful mood was not being reciprocated. Elle's smile became gentle, and she nodded before turning slowly towards the library. She walked in silence for a moment before she figured out what she was going to say next. "Do you like the dorms?" She started, passing her a casual glance. "My room alone is as big as my old apartment."

Calliope felt bad she wasn't rising to the girl's mood, but she wasn't in the right headspace. She felt a little better knowing she would be seeing Banjo. "Haven't seen my dorm yet in the Ursus but that's good to know." Calliope bit her tongue at the apartment comment. Her room back in New Mexico was larger than a single-bedroom apartment. And that was her room alone. Some of the other members in Blackjack, though never out loud, probably thought of her as a spoiled princess. And, if she were being honest, she was. She recalled The Breakfast Club and how annoyed she felt at the two popular kids saying they couldn't be friends with the other three outcasts because of their reputation and how stupid it was to think they had any moral high ground.

But back to the conversation, "So what made you decide to join Blackjack?"

"Well... I didn't really get to know anyone on Firebird. I've been too busy exploring campus and getting to know my upcoming professors, mostly to keep myself from feeling too homesick. So no matter which team I picked I was starting new." She let her eyes wander over the small portion of campus they were walking through as she put her thoughts into words. They were about a minute away from the academic quad, where the library resided. "I've been watching the teams since the plateau..." She didn't want to call it anything but that. "... and I've realized that Blackjack has heart. Sure, feelings get in the way and there have been disagreements, but you're all strong minded and truly care for each other."

She smiled softly at Calliope. "I wanted to be on a team like that. A team that could challenge each other to be better."

Calli fought an eye roll. Sure, they cared about each other. That's why a chunk of them wanted out. Even then, perhaps that was a blessing. Trace was still cool. And now she had Coop. So small blessings. "We definitely speak with our hearts rather than our heads, that much is true." Calli let some silence lay before she spoke up again.

"So how is Banjo anyway? I'll admit, I have been worried about him and that demon of a nurse at the ICU wasn't going to budge to let me see him."

Elle grinned. "I've heard she's just as much of a demon to work with." She shook her head. "I just met Banjo today. I caught him sneaking back to the infirmary in a stolen wheelchair. The nurses would have lost it if they found his room empty." Her head tilted as she looked Calliope's way. She thought about how Calliope's name had been first on his list, and then how Hyperion's had been the last. That was information best kept to herself. "He's... doing well despite his injuries. It seems like his character is unshaken, but... he has a long way to go."

"There's no need to worry, though. This school has pretty great healers, from what I've heard. He just needs to rest and let the doctors do their work, and he'll be back up in no time at all."

Calli fell inward in herself and tried her best not to show it. Because of Hyperion, Cass was dead and Banjo had a long road to recovery, even with healers. Calli felt her heart quicken, but clenched her fist and took some deep breaths. Not now.

"Good to hear. So what books were we looking for? Never took Banjo as much of a reader."

Elle watched her carefully, having noticed the slight change in her demeanor. Her lips parted as if she were going to say something, but it seemed like Calliope was eager to change the subject. So Elle graciously slowed to a stop outside of the academic quad as she reached into her tote for the list.

"I admit I thought the same," she mused as she pulled the paper out, "and then I was even more surprised when I saw what books he needed." She folded the sheet so that only the list was visible, still deciding to keep the visitors list hidden in case Calliope saw Hyperion's name in large letters. Hopefully her teammate wouldn't ask to see it herself. She began to read the titles one by one.

• A History of Law in Canada - Vol 1, 2 and 3
• Canada Criminal Code
• Canadian Civil Procedure Law
• Hyperhumanity's Place in Reshaping Canadian Law - A Potential Pathway To Treaty For the 21st Century

Elle finished the list with an amused smile. "I didn't take him as the law and order type, but it looks like he'll be sporting a blazer even after graduation."

Calli agreed, it was odd. "That's what I want to do also. Study law. Though I would work in the United States, but maybe having graduated from here would open some doors for me. Either way, I did not know that about Banjo." Perhaps there was more to the guy than she thought.

Elle gave a small shrug before beginning the ascent into the suspended Southern wing. "He's certainly clever enough." She took a moment at the top of the stairs to get the door for Calliope. "What makes you want to be a lawyer?" She thought of the little information she knew about Calliope's family, specifically her father, but decided that wasn't a topic to breach at the moment. She'd just met Calliope, and it wasn't any of her business in the first place. Though her curiosity was killing her.

The girl was curious, albeit nice. Calli normally would have been in the mood to discuss her future plans, but lately, she felt like they were too distant for her to pay them any mind. "Want to help people. Specifically hyperhumans, though I will help anyone who needs it. Always wanted to." She could go into the reasons, specifically as a middle finger to her father, the desire to want to ensure no one felt like she did growing up, wanting to help those who felt like they had no one in their corner.

But she didn't. "What about you? Any plans for when you get out of here?"

Elle smiled, the expression a touch melancholic. "Well... I wanted to be a field agent when I came here." She watched the campus pass them by through the windows. "After the night on the plateau," she pressed her lips together for a moment, "I might be better suited for an investigative position." She glanced over at Calliope, hoping that she hadn't made the girl's mood worse by mentioning that night. She could have said that experiencing a hyperhuman attack on that level frightened her. That she couldn't imagine facing someone as strong as that again. She couldn't possibly be strong enough to take anyone down if someone with a power like Cassander Charon's didn't stand a chance.

She was sure Calliope understood that with what little she said on the matter.

"I can manipulate pheromones," she continued, trying to get past the heavy shadow she might have cast on their path to the library by mentioning it at all. "It sounds strange at first, but it's really simple once you get the gist of it." Her lips tugged into a small smirk. "I used it to get free drinks for a while, until I tried it on a H.I.T. Agent. Long story short, I was busted."

Elle had to admit that Calliope had a way better "out" story than herself. Her jaw dropped a little, and then she quickly shut it at the mention of her father. Yeah... she'd take her Agent friend back home over an angry, anti-hype father any day. She decided not to comment on it, but instead offer encouragement. She stopped right outside of the library door and faced Calliope. "Let's make him regret that decision, then. We'll grab your books while we're here as well. You have a lot of studying to do if you want to help future hypes." She grinned for a moment before heading in.

---

Banjo was laying in bed flicking through television channels. No. No. Worse. Some kind of weird lawn bowls game played on ice with stones. No. No. Ice hockey...

A knock at the door, and soon Elle was pushing her way through with a stack of books in one arm. "Are you up for visitors, Romeo?" She stood halfway in, a smile on her face. "Might want to fix your hair a bit." Her head tilted in a subtle nod behind her.

Banjo put his hand to his head as a reflex, and then realised there was something there. That strange red flower Trace had put in his hair at the fountain. He'd forgotten about it. He turned with a wince and rested it on the newspaper. The petals of the red hibiscus flexed with hope. Life.

"Elle!" He said, too loud for his own comfort. ^{_{"So what house do you call this? IloveEnnWhyyySee? With their colours of denim? I dunno how they knew. Un-bloody-canny."}} He smirked with his hook-lipped sneer.

And he turned to the door, but she wasn't the only visitor she was referring to.

Calliope was standing in the doorway, beautiful, and his sneer turned to broad grin as he found himself trying to get a read on her.

Calliope looked at Banjo in the bed. She had thought she mentally prepared herself for this, but seeing him made it real. But she needed to be strong. "Hey Banjo. Since when do you read law books?" Her attempt at a joke was met with her voice pitching a bit at the end. She walked closer to him, unsure if she wanted to be near or if he even wanted her in his space.

^{_{"I-- uh--"}} Well there was a question he HADN'T been expecting. She looked uncertain. He decided to push through the pain and speak at a normal register. She seemed worried enough already. "I suppose since high school." He gave his warmest attempt at a smile. He left out the fact he had generally read them to cover his own arse legally in his... 'extra curricular projects'.

Well, looks like his voice is coming back already. Elle thought to herself. The grin still on her face thanks to Banjo's NYC House Colours joke. She stepped in as Calliope followed, but remained standing by the door. The two would surely like a moment to themselves. Which only became clear the moment Elle heard Calliope's true emotions slipping through the cracks in her voicebox. Elle pressed her lips together and began to set Banjo's books down on a table nearby as quietly as she could. She noticed a half-opened package nearby, Strigidae colours peeking out, and smiled softly.

Soon she was standing by the door again, her hand resting on the handle. "I'm going to step out for a moment, but please feel free to stay as long as you'd like, Calliope." She spoke softly, wondering if the two even noticed her presence anymore. "I'll be back in ten." Most likely longer than that, but better to let them know they wouldn't be alone for too long. Without waiting for any acknowledgement, Elle stepped out and let the door slowly shut itself.

Calliope turned her head and nodded at Elle as she left. Turning her attention back on Banjo, she continued. "Would not have guessed that. So...um, how are you feeling? Also, if your voice needs to rest, don't strain it on my account. I don't want you to have to stay here longer than is needed."

Her concern warmed him. And truth be told it did still hurt, but dumb machismo and not wanting to worry her more still drove him through most discomfort. "I'll be alright. They've got some kind of hyperhuman healing specialist coming in to see me tomorrow. Don't expect me to be in here much longer no matter how rough I look for now. They take on whatever ailments I've got left, and then heal 'emselves. Sounds like a pretty rough gig to me."

Calli looked around the room, taking it in. She noted the colored uniforms. Right, that would have to be a discussion. "Did they let you choose your team and house? I stuck with Blackjack, for the record."

His smile widened. He'd assumed as much. He didn't see her as the type to cut and run on a hurt mob. Moving on to a more beneficial situation on a dysfunctional team was one thing, abandoning them in the wake of tragedy, though? Didn't fit with what he knew of her. "Oh yeah." He said. "Bag there has the house stuff. Picked Strigidae. Tried to guess where you might have landed. At the time I wasn't sure how long I was going to be laid up for. As for Team? That robed prick didn't throw me far enough to have me going anywhere." He chuckled. She still seemed quiet.

"I'm sorry." He said, filling up the silence. "I kind of wrecked that whole 'wanting to get to know me a bit better' thing, didn't I? Pissed away a good week there."

"Sometimes I just... kind of do stuff. The bloke who drove me around between schools told me you tried to stop by. I'm not really used to having anyone give a shit whether I live or die." Then he winced at how that sounded. "Well, shit. That was kind of melodramatic. I mean... I'm kind of just used to passing through most people's lives. A dot point of an anecdote. You know? Oh the kid who did 'that thing'. Anyway... tried to get word out when I could. Did you see Trace?"

Calli's heart fell a bit, hearing Banjo picked Strigidae. That was one of her choices and she refused it. Though if she were being honest with herself, she didn't want to choose a house based on someone else. She was here to learn. Plus, they would still be Team Blackjack. "Yes, I did. They were the one who told me you were okay and wanted to see me. Granted, they didn't tell me where you were so I was a bit lost until I ran into Elle." Banjo smiled at the mention of Trace passing on his message.

"Also, I picked House Ursus. It made the most sense. But we'll still see each other."

"Ah!" He exclaimed, more from surprise than pain or disappointment. "Weren't one of mine anyway. They'll be lucky to have you, Momma Bear." He gave a cheeky grin.

Calli got a bit closer now, "Well, buddy, better get used to it. You have a whole team now of people who care about you. Luce was hellbent on seeing you, but she hit the same roadblock I did. And Elle is on Blackjack and she seems to care. Rory. Haleigh. Trevor. They care. I care."

"Elle's in--" He furrowed his brow. "Cass' slot..? Or what exactly did I miss?"

He was fine with people making their own decisions, having their own reasons to possibly leave. In fact, the Team Swap was one of the few ideas he could actually fully support the idea of, that this school had. Banjo just didn't consider it likely that anyone would. Figured with Cassander's death it would, if anything, solidify them and make them more adamant to remain. Some kids also went with Hyperion, he'd heard from the Butler, but other than that fact the older man had scant few details.

Calliope would have thought Banjo would have figured some people left. Surely he could imagine one or two of them dropping when given the chance. "Well, quite a bit, it seems. Elle is on Blackjack. So is Coop. Funny enough, Coop is an old friend of mine. We grew up together. Trace left. Makenna left, though that shouldn't be shocking. She didn't seem to get on with anyone so maybe she'll have better luck in Eclipse. Inigo also left, which also shouldn't be surprising. Haleigh and Trevor were beat up about it and spoke up, but Inigo sort of, kind of....threatened Haleigh at that point? I dunno what's going on with them. I told them to shove it, I think you would have been proud of me, but yeah. Blackjack is split. Also Luce wasn't there so I don't know if she's on our team or got bumped somewhere else, but we got some new faces."

Hmm. If Trace left because of the schism that had been caused from how people wanted to deal with Hyperion, that was one thing. But if they were disappointed with their place in Blackjack and figured a new team would have them be closer, he figured Trace might be out of luck there. Trace could be caustic, and whilst they'd both go back and forth at each other, Banjo at least figured both sides at least knew the score and understood what it was. It was more latititude than he figured a lot of people would give them and he generally took it in stride. He couldn't imagine landing in a situation here, miles from home, where Trace'd have some perfect fit. Let alone filling a place on some random team which already had set friendships and cliques. Makenna had been so standoffish, he didn't have a bead on her at all. Aside from her kind of missing the point and sharing her CV whilst sitting 'round the fire. Maybe things got worse this week. Still, Calliope's a good judge of character and he trusted her assessment, particularly with no take on her of his own. And Inigo..? He thought back to how she'd stood up for him that night towards Rory and Inigo...

He smiled. It held warmth, even with his slightly swollen left eye.

"I suspect I probably would've been proud of you." He gathered himself a little, to sit up more as Calliope seemed to edge closer to where he lay, perhaps coming to terms with how he looked in the bed. "I can think of worse things than replacing people who don't want to be there, with people who do. And Elle's good value. And I'm guessing you can vouch for Coop..."

His smile widened still.

Calliope tilted her head, "You keep smiling at varying intervals. What's up?"

"Just... that night. You were feeling lonely. I just think it's great that there's someone there you know now. A friend. Takes the pressure off. We can go as fast or slow as we like, and you don't have to worry that you're losing this one person that you're close to, and I don't have to worry that you're only making decisions based on loneliness either. This is good. I'm glad for you."

Calliope's smile faltered a bit. It was true that Coop was a nice breath of fresh air amongst total strangers, but she hadn't seen him in so long. Who knew if they still had a connection? How could she tell Banjo that despite the team, despite Coop, despite him...she still felt alone?

"Well, hard to be alone when you have a team full of hot-headed people, present company very much included." Callliope thought for a moment before continuing. "Did you know I want to be a lawyer? Specifically one who helps Hyperhumans. One who fights for change not just in the United States or Canada, but the world. Obviously, I wouldn't turn down helping non-hyperhumans, but that's my main focus and part of the reason I wasn't too upset about being sent here. I figure being surrounded by others like me and taught by them and about them would give me a leg up."

He raised his brow in surprise, unaware that they'd stumbled into somewhat similar career plan paths.

"No, I didn't. But then, we haven't had a whole lot of time to talk since. Again, my bad. It works out well, then. California and New York have pretty much open policy regarding foreign law graduates to take their state BAR exams immediately... New York, you'd have the U.N right there... And it's hard to imagine anywhere else would give you a more serious look in terms of your Hyperhuman law focus bona fides then if you graduated right here. Other states, there can be a few more hoops to jump through depending on where you want to go, maybe D.C..?" He offered, considering Supreme Court, major mover-and-shakers judicial hearings on Hyperhumanity.

"Me, I've never been quite so ambitious. And truth be told, I've never been around so many of... well, I guess, our kind... in my life. I mean, maybe the guy who drives me 'round might be a hyperhuman. He doesn't tell me much. And presumably at least one of my parents was, for whatever that's worth. But there's a lot fewer Hyperhumans back home than there are here, just in general. I'm more-- criminal defense." He wasn't sure how that would sound to Calliope but it was going to come out eventually anyway, so he might as well.

"I kind of have a problem with authority figures picking on vulnerable types. As you might have noticed the other night." He swallowed slightly as he remembered a stuffed stegosaurus hitting the dirt. "Authority figures don't get much bigger than the State."

"So... a budding civil rights attorney, huh? Noble." He said, diverting conversation back away from himself, and re-addressing her plans and goals.

"If I can help one kid not feel like they are alone in this world, then that's enough."

"Something tells me you're going to help a Hell of a lot more than just one, though..." He reaffirmed.

Calliope wasn't surprised to hear Banjo was the bad kid growing up, though it seemed more than that. "Sometimes you have to challenge authority, especially when they are crossing boundaries. I sort of wish I did that, but I had to be this perfect daughter my father wanted."

"But sometimes you have to realize you can't do it alone. Going after Hyperion was stupid, idiotic, senseless, and very brave, but you could have been killed like....like Cass." Calliope hadn't yet realized how Cass' death affected her. She felt like out of everyone, she may have had the most positive interaction with him. She had gotten some sense of him and wanted to know more, but that chance was ripped away.

Banjo looked somewhat cowed. It wasn't entirely something he could help. He also didn't like the suggestion that what he did was in anyway brave, but he wouldn't disagree because doing so would almost be to deny Calliope the claim that Cassander was, and who the Hell was he to do that?

...even if he suspected that bravery didn't factor into it for him, just like it didn't for Banjo. It was probably a defense mechanism, from the trauma of the care facilities. Banjo knew dozens of kids just like Cass, even if he didn't know Cassander himself. Quiet, to the point of wanting to be invisible, but with any kind of provocation, quick to violence and self defense, and even quicker to jump in for anyone he viewed as vulnerable. Particularly the girls. He suspected it was this that Hyperion had triggered in him - Hell, targeting the vulnerable had in Banjo - and that Banjo had inadvertantly provided an opening. One which got him killed. If he had any sense in the situation himself, he would have realised that Cass would have responded in exactly the way he did. But when his mouth started flapping, all sense and Banjo were a long way away by then... Riding the waves of his own defense mechanism.

A couple of broken kids washed up from the foster care system.

"It wasn't--" Even with the conscious thought of not wanting to take the brave label away from Cassander, it sat so poorly with him that he still wanted to shake it off, before third-guessing his choice of words. "I wasn't-- You didn't NOT ACT because you're bound by being this perfect daughter. We moved--" He thought twice and decided to completely remove the speculation towards Cass' thoughts. "I moved because I wasn't acting... I was reacting. On impulse. There's not much bloody soft about Trace... but he was poking at one such spot. When he went targeting Trace, Haleigh and Rory I was already movin'. But when he picked up that kid with his-- I mean he had a STUFFED FUCKING TOY for fuck's sake--" Banjo's voice went gutteral, it would have hurt like Hell, if he weren't beyond giving a shit by now. "I wasn't in a field with a terrorist anymore. I was somewhere a long way away, a long time ago..."

He took a few seconds to gather himself.

"I don't want you to think for one second-- to blame yourself for one second-- for what he did, or for what I did. Because when Hyperion did that I wasn't even there anymore. There wasn't a force on this Earth that would have stopped me from doing what I did. It's-- It's like programming. The places we grew up... there's no such thing as a good one. Just less bad. And what you can survive through. And after that it just becomes whether you're 'functional' or 'non functional' or can at least pass for it when you come out the other side." He'd slipped a 'we' in there and hoped Calliope wouldn't notice it after the fact.

"Honestly, the last few days I've been awake, I've had a lot of time to dwell on it. And the thing I'm most thankful for is that you weren't right next to me. Because like I said, I wasn't thinking of you at all-- and not because I don't care. But because I just wasn't still there anymore. Not in that way. And with your Dad being who he is... if I drew that psycho's attention to you. The kind of political message he'd probably feel moving on you would make... I don't think that's something I could have forgiven myself for."

Calliope listened as Banjo unleashed something that had to be bubbling inside him for a while. Something that she triggered unintentionally. She listened because she needed to. It was a wake-up call. Once he was done, she took a minute to collect her own thoughts. She needed to make it clear she heard him, understood him. "I don't want you thinking for one second that what you did was anything less than the brave act it was. Whatever the intention, whatever was going through your mind, it doesn't matter. Or it matters because that's how you see it. But you still acted or reacted or whatever. You tried to help. Evil wins when good men do nothing, isn't that the saying? You did something."

"And fuck my father! I don't care anymore. I am doing stuff for myself now. Hyperion hurt us, physically, emotionally, mentally. They need to pay and I will see that they do, because unlike you, when triggered, I faltered. And I have to live with that and people got hurt or traumatized or scared because I couldn't do anything. We both may have had rough childhoods, but it is what we do now that shifts our future. And I don't know about you, but I don't plan on sitting idly by while hateful people try to cause trouble."

She backed up a bit. "You need to rest and I should get going anyway."

"Please don't go yet..." He was losing her. She was putting distance between them, both physically and emotionally. Throwing up walls to what he was saying. Unable to accept that his response was anything but a display of courage and her own as anything but failure. He'd touched on a nerve. No. He'd driven a hard shot to one without knowing it. Coupled with the mention of her father, maybe a few nerves.

He turned his head and saw the numbers he'd scrawled on the newspaper. 34 and 35.

"You didn't falter, and I didn't do otherwise. Crack open the Criminal Code over there."

"I agree that he needs to be stopped. But the way to do that isn't to try and track this lunatic down and fight him on his turf. Why do you think he came here? Out to that open field, far off campus and away from the H.E.L.P facility? He could target a bunch of new, vulnerable kids, poorly defended in an isolated location. Before any of us could get the training to become any kind of a threat, young... impressionable. We pursue this guy, fight him where he lives... none of us are coming back alive. And even if we did succeed, how does that sound politically? A horde of Hyperhuman kids became this new threat tracking down and taking out the biggest dog on the block. We'd scare the Hell out of people. And in death probably kick off the Hyperhuman/Human war this nutcase has been trying to kick off all his life."

Calli saw the book he referenced and picked it up.

"Section thirty-four and thirty-five..."

Calli began flipping through the pages, albeit unwillingly.

"Canada has a Castle Doctrine. AND their Criminal Code explicitly lays out positive defences. He killed a student the last time he was on the grounds. What would otherwise be implicit Self defence becomes basically explicit. The only way anyone could convict us is if they literally threw out their own law book." He said with his smirk twisting into that same hooked sneer.

"If he comes here. We can take him out and nobody will say a damn thing, other than he went to the wrong place, messed with the wrong people, got himself in too deep. This isn't an animal you hunt. It's one you trap. He's already proficient in what he does. We're training to be the people who don't falter. Every day we're here, we're a day closer to being the type of people who can bring someone like that down. Who actually act WITH PROPER SITUATIONAL TRAINING. Calli, if I had to, for you, I'd march into Hell and kick the Devil in the balls. But that doesn't make it the smart thing to do. THIS is the smart way to handle it."

"Yes, it's in the book. I get your point, even if I do not agree with it."

"I'm gonna get well. I'm gonna get strong. I'm gonna get prepared. And if he's stupid enough to show his face around here in broad daylight... I'm gonna put him so deep in the dirt you'd need Haleigh to get him out."

Calliope sighed, it seemed Banjo was on the side with the others, going about like it didn't happen. She couldn't sit idly by while a terrorist and traitors roamed freely after harming them and killing one of their own. She would not be the perfect daughter anymore.

"A book can only teach you so much. I am not going to defy anyone or cause chaos for no reason, but I can't stand around waiting for him to show up if he does so. I will also prepare and get strong. And he will regret ever coming to this school."

She reached over and gave him back the Criminal Code. He took it and turned, placing it on his side table without looking.

"Yeah, well... If he's at all to be believed, waiting is all its gonna take..."

He didn't notice as the door handle started to turn.

"...Before he threw me he told me he was coming back for me."

He turned and Elle was standing in the room. The door half closed, only because of the grip she now held on the handle. Well shit... He thought to himself, but not skipping a beat.

"And I would have told you, if I had any real inkling that you were actually seriously considering joining the team. I'm sorry. I thought you were just joking around. But yeah. It may not be the safest place to be, bein' around me, at the moment going forward." He said to Elle. "Full disclosure and all-a that."

Elle slowly shut the door behind her, but she stood still as Banjo's words sunk in. Her mind began to race. She'd been wondering what intimate words Hyperion and Banjo had shared that night.

"I had half a mind not to tell you, because I didn't want you to worry. But I'm not about to start keepin' stuff from you, Calli." He turned to Calliope.

"I never for a second thought it would make you give a second's thought to leaving Blackjack, but yeah, I don't like the thought of people jumpin' in not knowing that. ESPECIALLY if I made any difference whatsoever in their decision to join."

"Have you told anyone else?" Elle asked from where she stood by the door. She slowly moved to stand at the foot of his bed. "Even if they didn't do any good on the plateau, it would be better if the school's faculty know he plans to return." She shook her head. "You need a security team here. He could have dropped by anytime this week, and it would've taken too long for any help to get here." Her gut twisted at the thought and her brows furrowed. She wanted to berate him for this, but she also didn't want to hit him while he was down. She couldn't imagine how he was feeling about this. She looked at him for an explanation.

"Who else would I tell? Who else COULD I tell? I've only seen you and Trace. I suspect the school shuffled me off in here to keep me and how I look all hush-hush. And in the five minutes I was outside I already saw the drones flyin' overhead. I think the school's already workin' off the basis that he may well try and come back."

As for the rest he remained quiet. He actually didn't mind the isolation of the Special Ward. The way he figured, if Hyperion actually WAS hellbent on carving a path to his door in here, some hospital security probably wouldn't be enough to get it done, and at least nobody else would be unnecessarily hurt. But he had his doubts about that in the first place. "Ooo-ooo I'll be back for you later..." It just sounded like something you'd say to an irritant, to never let them get a moment's peace and always have them looking over their shoulder. Hell, it's something Banjo would've said.

But if it kept Calli somewhat patient, and safe. It's a fact he could use. Hyperion did still say it afterall.

However, Calli noticed something. She took pride in her ability to read people. It was a skill she had developed growing up to ensure she could say or do the right things to please everyone around her. Banjo wasn't telling the whole story. "There's something you aren't telling. I can't force it out of you, but I will let you know if you are doing so for my protection you can stop. I should be able to protect myself and any knowledge of Hyperion or what he may be planning could only help."

Once again Banjo found himself marvelling at her. She saw through him like glass. He'd never felt this way about anyone, and he'd never truly felt 'known' by anyone.

She debated if she should inform everyone else. Was it hers to tell? "Shouldn't the others be made aware? Forget the school for a second, but Blackjack, Firebird, Eclipse, surely they should know what to expect. But this isn't my story to tell."

Elle nodded in agreement. Banjo didn't need to hold back just for their protection. Yet she was unsure about telling the teams. "I don't want anyone to look over their shoulder every day, but I also agree that they should be made aware. That's what I would want, at least." Banjo probably tensed at every set of footsteps outside of his door. "I think it's up to you to decide if we mention that he threatened you specifically."

"You're both right. But for the time being, until I get out at least, let's just keep it quiet. If you start telling people individually, it'll turn into gossip and rumour, and the whole thing will get out of control and go crazy. Before too long it'll snowball and turn into some insane notion that Hyperion declared some crazy vendetta against this place. At the moment, while I'm still stuck in here, the threat's only on me. I can deal with that. As soon as I get out, we'll gather everyone together, all three teams, and we'll tell 'em all at once - with context - and then people can make their own decisions based on that as to what's best for them. Some people'll probably be pissed at me that they went making Team Swap decisions without that knowledge, but I only came 'round yesterday, Trace left anyway, and I haven't had any other chance to see anyone else. Again, Elle, you're the one it really bothers me I didn't say anything to, because I mean we talked, but I had no idea Blackjack was a real option for you. If I'd-- I could've said something."

Elle frowned as he finished. She couldn't stand seeing him look so guilty. "I don't- that wouldn't have made any difference." She tapped her knuckle on his bedframe. "If anyone gives you any shit for it, send them to me. You shouldn't feel guilty for getting a target put on your own back."

Calliope didn't feel right about leaving the chunk of them in the dark, but Banjo and Elle had some points. "All right, I won't say a word. For now! I don't like thinking Hyperion can attack at any time and we stood on that information."

Calli shifted from one foot to the other. "Did they say how long you'll be in here for? What about classes?"

Elle pressed her lips together in response. Calliope had a point as well. She wasn't sure she could stomach it if something happened to Banjo before the rest of the school knew. Yet there had to be some level of awareness that lightning can strike the same place twice. No matter how rarely that occurs.

"The minute I get out, we'll tell 'em. Promise. I don't like the thought of endangering anyone else, either." He was grateful when more questions were asked to get him off the topic.

"Well, they say the specialist's in tomorrow, it's simple enough and I could-- well, I should-- be out then. Most of the usual classes I should be good for. They might give me a week to recover from that physical A.R.C training stuff. I'm looking a bit lean under here. Not much sunlight. Can't really draw juice either anyway just yet, because it'll tear the patch-up job they did on my spleen, and it'd hurt my everything else as well. There's stuff I can do anyway during those sessions. Hell, I might walk Rory through on how my powers work. Might as well do something with the time. Make meself useful. I'm really not bad, Calli. I see this person tomorrow and it'll be like night and day... but yeah, I mean, you can see me. I get that I look rough right now."

He worked hard to alleviate her concerns. She'd still seemed somewhat distant this visit, and he chalked it up mostly to his appearance. It wasn't lost on him that his looks were the first thing that attracted him to her. That was probably the reason for the distance. It was probably pretty confronting. Yeah. That was probably it.

Off to the side, on his table, the red hibiscus struggled beneath the bulk of the Canadian Criminal Code. It's once lively petals disturbed, crushed by sheer weight of words.

The first school day had finally arrived, her first class being Intro to Law with House Ursus' faculty representative, Elias Onassis.

She hadn't known what to expect, but by now Haleigh was ultimately prepared for anything. Although not everything was perfect or back to how it was, her pep-talk with Rory over the weekend had allowed Haleigh to get her head back into the game. A new-found confidence filled her heart, and her once unsteady thoughts were more focused than ever. She was ready to hit the ground running and stop for absolutely nothing in her way.

Being an early bird, Haleigh had been up earlier than most. The Canis dorms were eerily silent, save for the occasional faint noise that came from the commons or elsewhere. It reminded Haleigh of home in its own weird way. Her father would often leave earlier in the day, with Haleigh left home to her own devices until work or school inevitably called her away. It felt comforting, and gave some peace of mind from what had been a crazy, stressful week prior.

Sitting at the shared dining table, Haleigh finished up her cup of plain, black coffee as she gathered her belongings for the school day. An empty plate laid nearby, previously holding a hearty skillet of seasoned veggies and meat. She usually didn't make too much, but with the pep in her step Haleigh went out her way to make extra, having placed it in the dorm's fridge for the other three to eat if they so desired. Pulling from her excessive knowledge of campfire cooking so everyone could start the day energized was the least she could do to showcase "house spirit", after all.

With the final sip of coffee, Haleigh checked a nearby clock. It was still early in the morning, but she figured to head out regardless. Jotting down a quick note for the boys, Haleigh left it on the table before she washed her dishes and headed out for the day.

There is leftover skillet in the fridge for you three. It's an old Crawford camping recipe. Eat if you want. - Haleigh

Picking up her belongings, Haleigh made her way throughout the campus over towards where they were supposed to gather. The three faculty representatives were already there, and a few students followed in tow. Despite this, Haleigh didn't see any Blackjack faces among them just yet, and so she pulled out her phone, browsing her news feed of outdoor sites to kill some time until the rest of Blackjack showed up or someone addressed her.

You know I'm dead set, on making you regret
You'll hear the thunder, and it'll make you wonder
Why ya ever tried, cause you're on the wrong side

The steady pounding of sneakers against the treadmill was drowned out by Alyssa's personal playlist. The track slowed to its end, fading out as Alyssa became immediately aware of her surroundings again. Her heartbeat felt trapped inside her head, as cold beads of sweat ran down her forehead, pooling under her chin before following to her collar. Keen, blue eyes darted back and forth, taking in the various students in the recreational center. She didn't recognize anyone here from Firebird.

Across the fitness center, one of the attendants was quickly pushing a loaded cart. The wheels rolled along the hard, cement floor, the weight of it making it only increasing the noise as its wheels rumbled beneath the burden. Alyssa suddenly felt her hackles stand on end.

Thunder echoed in her ears and suddenly she was back on the Southern Plateau. The tent above her ripped away as cold rain and blinding lightning immediately brought Alyssa out of her slumber. It had already been a restless sleep, the first night away from home, an unfamiliar bed, and the steady noise of the rain outside. Adrianna had been trying to do something, a hand outstretched in futility.

Alyssa briefly returned to her present surroundings only to return to the plateau as across the gym, a weight slipped.

It slammed against the floor with a loud bang as another flash of lightning blinded her. The thunder should have been deafening but all Alyssa heard was a gunshot. Hyperion's mask turned towards her as he impaled Cassander. Alyssa's lower lip trembled, as tears welled in the corner of her eyes, mixing with the cold rain streaming down her face. She was frozen as Cassander's empty eyes turned towards her, pleading for help. Except it wasn't Cassander at all, the tousled hair was replaced by a neat, manicured haircut and Alyssa realized she was staring at the face of her brother.

Alyssa flinched, missing a step on the treadmill, before stumbling backward. From the bare leg before the hem of her shorts, Alyssa's biometal activated, rapidly creating a brace to steady her body and prevent her from falling. The jolt was enough to loosen an earbud, which clattered to the floor while Alyssa took several deep breaths while regaining her balance.

Bending down to pick up the earbud, Alyssa didn't notice the other dark-haired male across from her doing the same until their heads met. Her ability activated again, deflecting the brunt of the impact while a crackle of energy surrounded the male's own head, sparks flew into the air as their heads collided.

"Omigosh!" Alyssa cried, placing a hand on the male's shoulder, "I am so sorry, that was totally my fault."

"No harm done," He smiled, standing up before holding out the fallen earbud. "I think you dropped this."

"Yeah, total klutz," Alyssa giggled as the male extended a hand.

"RJ," He introduced himself as Alyssa shook his hand. Their abilities reacted again, a small spark appearing as they touched.

"Alyssa Townsend." She replied with a smile.

The envelope contained three small invitations. Each was printed onto a form of paper, likely cardstock based on the firmness and texture by Alyssa's reasoning. The invitations bore a small message, detailing why the House had picked her and signed off with an emblem making it explicitly clear which House it was in case the genus-related name failed to make the connection apparent.

Looking down at her cards, weighing her options and examining how each colour looked against her skin and hair, Alyssa ultimately made her choice. Quickly looking around as she came to the realization she was among the last to choose. All of Team Eclipse had already picked, Robert Scott had accepted the colours for House Canis, the same as Cassander Charon, the same as Oliver she quickly realized before looking down at her cards again to ensure that was not an option. Zebulun Michaels had approached Team Lutra, while Eden Sherewood had gone to Myotis. Both options that Alyssa shared.

Holding her cards up again, Alyssa carefully looked them over, focusing on which attribute each addressed.

Alces, mindfulness. Serene greens surrounded the bull moose that represented Alces. The Lord of the Forest; tall and triumphant, but also gentle and peaceful. The green also complimented her hair well, Alyssa would be lying to say it was not tempting. But she didn't exactly feel defined by being mindful of others, that was just good manners, part of being a good samaritan if one would. She'd reconsider it if the other two didn't add up, but looking toward Katja and Trace, Alyssa didn't really know how the three of them had anything in common. Someone must have thought they all belonged in Alces though.


Lutra, intelligence. Symbolized by calming blues and a frolicking otter, the house was certainly tempting. Alyssa had been taught to value education and subsequently intelligence from a young age. She also appreciated that of her three choices, House Lutra was the only one whose faculty member was female, even if the Captain was not. There was also the bonus of Lutra being the reigning champion of the school's intramural league. Alyssa had enjoyed several sports through her years at boarding school and the academy back in Orange County. Basketball, Rugby, Soccer, Track and Field, it could be fun to be part of a competitive house.


Myotis, spirituality. The vibrant violet hues called to Alyssa as they encompassed the silhouette of a hanging bat. But was spirituality necessarily the same as faith? Alyssa wasn't convinced that her personal relationship as a Christian, even if it was a little rocky could simply be boiled down to spirituality. She couldn't deny the appeal towards the colour, but the bat itself was a little off-putting, perhaps even half the reason why she was worried she wouldn't jive in Myotis. Looking at the others who joined the purple House, Alyssa couldn't help but feel there were no real similarities between her and either of her former teammates.

Completing her reevaluation, Alyssa realized there was only one clear contender for her. Looking towards the blue banner and the familiar faces of Elodie Miller, Sierra Hilton and Zebulun Michaels, Alyssa held up her Lutra invite and approached the House Captain. Isabelle Christianson nodded to the Lutra Captain, Holt Sommersfield as he placed the blue boat cloak on Alyssa's shoulder.

A celebratory cry echoed across the stadium as another joined the current holder of the House Laurels.

The day had been exhausting. Jim collapsed into the leather office chair before using his abilities to push the door to the small office shut. This new iteration of Blackjack was certainly living up to the idea of being 'wildcards', but there was no doubt in his mind that they would test every last nerve he had before graduation. Reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, Jim pulled out a simple rectangular bottle and poured a small amount into the glass atop the desk. Only upon doing so did he notice the brightly wrapped box placed squarely in the center of his desk. Sitting up, Jim looked around his office quickly, searching for signs of forced entry, or anything else out of place. Whoever had placed the box had been allowed to enter the office, not even a leaf on the ficus in the corner was out of place.

He placed his hand on the box. It reeked of perfume, something overly sweet. It wasn't entirely unfamiliar, he had smelled it in dealing with Collegiate students before. It was the kind of scent a teenage girl would think men were drawn to. The box itself felt sturdy and thick. Too thick for cardboard. Instead, it felt more like the kind of styrofoam one would find inside a furniture box.

Drawing a knife from the back of his belt, Jim gingerly slid the blade under each piece of tape until the wrapping paper simply fell away revealing the single-use cooler inside. Looking down at the top, Jim's eyes were met by a simple note taped to the lid. Pink, cursive writing assaulted his eyes as his heart sank and his stomach turned.

I figured you’d need something to bury.

xoxox
Autumn

Opening the lid, Jim didn't know what emotion to feel first. Rage gave way to grief which melted away to complete disgust as the smell of the contents hit his nose, completely overriding the perfume from the wrapping paper.

Inside the box was Tad's head, the top of his skull sliced clean open.

Leaving the ceremony with their new Houses, the various members of Blackjack, Eclipse and Firebird made their way across campus in the throng of students to the four multi-storey buildings that made up the University Dormitories. Each university student was given a private bedroom inside a unit with three other such rooms. The bedroom itself consisted of a queen-sized bed, complete with storage underneath it, along with a desk, dresser and closet. In the corner opposite the bed, a forty-two-inch television was mounted on an adjusted arm so that it could be watched from just about anywhere in the room. The rooms were overall spacious, big enough that a student could add a couch or punching bag if so desired.

These four bedrooms were attached around a shared living room complete with a large television, a dining table, a sectional and several other pieces of furniture. Additionally, each dorm consisted of a full kitchen for the four students to use along with a shared laundry room. The mentality was to encourage some independence among the students, however, everyone was still welcome to use the mess hall if desired.

Each university dorm was split between two houses. The first building is shared between Houses Alces and Canis, while the second contains both Houses Gulo and Lutra. The third building is split between Houses Lynx and Myotis while the last building is occupied by the Houses of Strigidae and Ursus. Each building has its own private patio, hot tub and in-ground pool for members of either house to use. This patio also contains an outdoor kitchen and grill that can be either reserved or used on a first-come, first-serve basis.

All in all, the university dorms were designed to eliminate any want that the students might have for home and thus optimally designed for comfort and familiarity.

Upon arriving at their assigned dorms and rooms, each student would find the bed freshly made with House themed uniform variants waiting for their arrival. Neatly placed on their desk were all the books and supplies they would need for the semester, along with a letter from their House Captain thanking them for making the 'right' choice and encouraging each student to sign up for the intramural league.

However, for six particular students, beneath the pile of clothing would be a small black envelope. Similar in size to the one they had received for their house invitations, inside was a message accompanied by what appeared to be another house emblem. Black and bearing the silhouette of either a whale or a dolphin, the message above read:

For most, the weekend that followed the ceremony and room assignment went by quickly. Between moving into a new dormitory, and meeting new faces, the weekend was a blur of activity that, for many, was the first time that Pacific Royal Collegiate & University actually began to live up to its initial promise. Tension and unease were still around every corner, and the increased security measures did little to help students forget that, but there was comfort in finally moving out of the Intake House and into a permanent residence.

With the weekend gone, and despite being delayed a week due to the events surrounding Hyperion and Cassander's death, the first class had finally arrived for the latest students to begin their journey through the Hyperhuman Enforcement Accelerated Training program. Teams Blackjack, Eclipse and Firebird were all completing the same curriculum, although attending each course in a different order. Blackjack itself was starting with Intro to Law as taught by the House Ursus faculty representative, Elias Onassis in the Law & Liberal Arts wing of the Academic Quadrangle. Whereas Eclipse would be starting with Victoria Roth's course, Managing Conflict & Intervention Strategy similarly located a few doors down. Her husband, Aiden however had Team Firebird first for Practical Ability Training in the augmented reality center.

All students were required to report their Team Faculty member, to be escorted to their first class of the day. Standing outside of the Mess Hall, Jim looked worse for wear than Aaron or Miranda had expected, the smell of bourbon radiated from the sweat-stained shirt beneath his trademark jacket.

The Chancellor had decided to keep Tad's fate quiet for now, the students were only just starting to come to terms with the death of Cassander. A H.I.T. unit had also commandeered the box and its contents as evidence, which meant that despite Autumn's intentions, they currently had nothing to bury. Suffice it to say, Jim wasn't taking it well.

Miranda had broken the news to Jess who took it even worst, putting in for stress leave and departing the school for an unknown time, leaving the three Team Leaders without their student aides.

Raising his aviators onto his head, Aaron handed Jim a cup of steaming black coffee.

"Best get this into you now, before Blackjack arrives, they shouldn't see you like this."

Jim nodded, uncharacteristically silent as he accepted the coffee with a silent nod of gratitude.

"Do you trust your kids with the Roths?" Jim asked both Miranda and Aaron, "Aiden is straight out of Crestwood, Victoria was one of the first in the door of this institution. Wouldn't be surprised to learn their kids call Jonas grandpa. If any form of corruption, Hyperion or otherwise, traces that far back, neither of them have clean hands."

"No love lost between Aiden and Viktor though." Aaron replied, "So not all of the Crestwood kids are tight."

"Aiden was Vanessa's boyfriend, broke up with her the night she was murdered." Miranda replied, "A part of Viktor will always blame him for that."

"Can't say I ever much cared for Viktor, think I'm startin' to see him in a new light though," Jim scoffed, looking up to see Alyssa and a few other students approaching. Rubbing a hand over his unkempt scruff, Jim straightened up and downed the rest of the coffee.

It was show time.

The pair of green eyes suddenly shot open. Blinding white lights penetrated the thick womb-like liquid of the tank, a breathing tube shoved down his throat was barely noticeable with the searing pain radiating from his chest. Behind the glass of the tank were only sterile white walls. He tried to move, tried to swim but there was no surface to penetrate and no room to navigate. A reflection on the glass caught his eye and the figure quickly realized the scarred visage staring back at him was his own face.

He tried to scream, but only a bubble of air escaped his throat.

She wasn't particularly imposing when she finally made her appearance. But then he supposed she needn't be. The specialist. The one who takes away all of the pain, discomfort and disrepair, and makes it her own for a time.

She turned through X-Rays and scans of the damage he'd sustained.

"So this is it? Some broken ribs. Lungs aren't too bad now, nothing structural there at least. Kidney. Spleen. And a sore throat. The most questionable thing I can see here is the head trauma."

^{_{"Head trauma? My head feels fine."}}

"I'm talking in terms of potential brain damage. That's not something I want to mess around with, if I'm taking all of this on. It could affect how my hype gene activates, then I'd be left healing from all of this at a natural pace. There was some brain bleed, some swelling. They induced a coma to try and take it down. That's not nothing."

^{_{"So you can't help me out?"}}

"I didn't say that. We're waiting on the latest." She kept a clipped, medical tone.

She sighed.

"This isn't that bad. Assuming the results of your latest scan show significant improvement in this region," she circled a part of the scan which showed large discolouration "then we should be clear for a therapeautic session. Everything goes right, you'd then be out in a little over an hour. There's an hour mandatory observation period. You clear that, and you should feel fine during that time, and you're all done."

And, as if on queue, a scan operator poked her head through the door and handed a yellow envelope containing his most recent results. She took them with a subtle thanks, and opened the envelope, holding them up to the light briefly.

"Aaaaand, we should be good to go."

She put the scan transparency over a backlit holder which showed that the discolouration had indeed faded, showing a marked improvement to his condition.

---

Banjo sat on a new, different hospital bed, awaiting the specialist's return. His ribs still ached.

A wheelchair was brought in, with the specialist sitting in it in a patient's gown and surgical hat.

^{_{"So how's all this go then?"}} Banjo asked.

"Well, we swap for a start. The bed's for me, you're for the chair."

Banjo screwfaced. He knew exactly how much this was going to suck, collapsing back down into the wheelchair.

^{_{"Yeah 'right. How we gonna manage this then..."}} He muttered to himself.

With some assistance from the nursing staff, Banjo was seated in the wheelchair and the specialist was lying on her back upon the hospital bed.

"Now... closer.

Banjo was slowly wheeled closer. The whole situation made him slightly nervous. Like there was some strange occult magic about to take place, which stood in stark contrast to the sterile hospital environment.

Her hands glowed and an energy swirled. Blues and oranges and purples. She was hesitant, as if she was well accustomed to what was in store for her, and needed to mentally prepare, and then her hand was upon him. He felt nothing at first. And watched as her lip slightly curled as the damage began to transfer and the pain travelled up her nerves in the process. Banjo wanted to tell her to stop. That it was enough, that he could wait and let the rest heal naturally, but the nurse hushed him. The pain in his ribs started to subside. The minor niggle in his throat that remained from the intubation, grew more distant. Like a distant echo from a faraway memory.

She never complained, teeth remained gritted as she bore the pain. And then the hand lifted and the moment ceased.

There was a gentle sigh, and after a few moments of silence he was wheeled away. Unsure what to make of the entire experience.

His pain was indeed gone. He assumed the actual damage was as well, but he felt so fine that it all seemed so strange that anything actually happened. As if his injuries were nothing but a faint memory from a dream.

He was wheeled to a ward for his hour's observation.

---

Banjo was free. Free from his wheelchair, free from the ward. He wore his new Strigidae uniform which had been delivered to him - and he found himself swimming in,he had indeed lost a lot of weight from his week trapped indoors - as he walked the school grounds alone at an awkward hour of the day.

It all seemed surreal.

He would be expected to go back to the Intake House to move his stuff to his new House dorm. But that could wait some. He was outside. He was free. The sun shon down, like it was made for him.

He looked up and found himself alone in parklands, trees and greenery, blue skies and yellow sun. Bright colours the antithesis of the whites, greys and darkened corners of the Hospital rooms he'd been shuffled between with their artificial lighting.

He looked to his left and right and checked he was indeed alone. A broad smile crossed his face.

With a sudden burst he drank deep of the sun. His breath quickened and then halted, his body turned black. His back seemed to click into refreshed place after spending too long tightened, removing the pressure on his ribs. Muscles and sinew re-knitted and his synapses flared, providing a quick hit of ecstasy. He held it and worked to restore his breathing whilst he juiced. The corona started to swirl around his person, as the surrounding air temperature dropped markedly. Perhaps two or three degrees. His teeth shon bright through his broadened smile. It took work to hold his breathing steady, as if it weren't a natural thing, in his current state.

He felt his body flood with the sensation. He felt like he was throbbing with energy. He stopped the process and let his body power down. He took a deep breath, as he felt refreshed. He was still swimming in his uniform, but he didn't feel as frail anymore.

He took another look around left and right and shuffled a little. He bounced up on the balls of his feet a few times. Continuing to look around. Not looking to ensure people were a safe distance anymore. Instead checking for witnesses.

His broad smile turned to playful grin and he took off at a sprint. He glided at an Olympic level athlete's gait, before taking three well placed steps, planting and leaping eleven feet upwards towards the thick bough of a tree. Snatching it with one hand, he swung with his legs to propel him to a higher branch, snatching it with the other, and turning his body to another branch, releasing and grabbing it with both hands. He laughed joyfully. And with a half swing, quickly brought himself up to a seated position, some thirty feet off the ground.

Far above, his new Head of House, Theron Demetrios smiled, watching the troubled youth have his fun and enjoying the unique perspective his own power of flight provided him. A drone swarm swept up, and diverted its path around him, recognising the chip in the wristband that Isabella Christianson had provided him.

Even in a hyperhuman school where it's understood that some people can fly, you'd be surprised how rarely people actually look up.

Banjo clung to the canopy and swung from the treetops, elated with his rejuvenated health. The sun, the trees, the sky, the land. He was back amongst what felt natural.

Banjo was lugging his footlocker over from the Intake House to his new House over in Strigidae. Awkwardly-sized to carry, but not overly heavy since he had recently "juiced". He'd never really paid attention to the House situation on initial Orientation, he hadn't much cared at the time, he just figured he could ask questions when the time actually became pertinent and someone would point the way.

So he was extremely pleasantly surprised when he came upon the building where he'd be housed and saw multiple banners.

The orange owl he'd chosen hung from one side of the house... but also a brown bear on the other.

He dropped his footlocker and laughed a sharp cackle at his good fortune. They may not have shared the same house, but their houses shared the same building.

This was even better. They weren't in THE SAME house, so they wouldn't get under each other's feet. It'd give him a buffer. Maybe stretch out the amount of time before she realised he's a bit of a dickhead. But they were still in the same building, so it made seeing each other a lot easier.

He'd fallen arse-backwards into the best possible situation.

He bent back down to pick up his footlocker and found a short blonde emerge from the front door, and with a small shriek of joy at another large box, only slightly smaller than the footlocker he carried, that was awaiting her on the front doorstep. She rushed back inside, presumably to get some kind of dolly truck or help to take the large box inside.

Banjo sighed, walked to the porch and stacked the box on top of the footlocker he was already carrying, and, carefully straightening his knees to keep the box from sliding off, began to carry everything inside.

"Ohhhh, thanks!" The blonde said as she returned with a dolly truck, running a hand through her blonde hair as she sized him up. A little lean for her tastes, but he did seem deceptively strong. Banjo sighed and moved on to where someone else was waiting, as she followed.

"Hey, I'm just checking in for my room. I know I'm late, but, well-- yeah. Anyway, my name's... ah shit, what am I down there as again--?" He tried to remember the surname he was going by.

"Oh shit, it's you!" The guy exclaimed, in excited surprise. He hadn't been exactly sure what to expect when the last name on the accommodations list had been crossed off. But immediately made the connection from the accent.

"That's right!" Adrianna added, not quite aware that she wasn't the one being recognised.

"Yeah, sure, man! You go right on in! Uhh-- level 5! Call out for Zimmerman, he's always in his dorm, he'll set you up!"

"Cheers, cob'." He said, walking away.

"You're awesome!" The guy called back. Pointing, then changing his hand to a fist in solidarity.

"Thank you!" Adie replied, as she led the way to the elevator.

"So what room am I taking this box to?" He asked the short blonde, who he also in kind, didn't recognise. The elevator doors opened.

"Oh, you move fast..." She said with a giggle, boarding the elevator, pressing her '4', his '5' and spreading her arms across the handrail, biting her bottom lip.

"What?" He said, baffled by the comment as he stepped onboard himself.

"Oh please. Acting like you don't recognise me. But deciding to pick up MY box. Trying to find out which room I'm in..." Adie numbered off his apparent transgressions. "You're cute and I'm flattered. But the act's getting old."

"I have no idea who you arrrrre... Ariana Dale?" He said misreading the name by the address for the box, because he couldn't get a good angle on it. "And I picked up the box because you're tiny and I just juiced. So to me... it ain't heavy, just awkwardly sized. And yeah. I want to know what room the box goes to. What are you, one of those 'influencers' or something?"

Adrianna flushed red with rage as her entire career led to her being mischaracterised as 'an influencer or something'.

"Adrianna. Dahl. As in Fortune 500s Adrianna Dahl. As in former C.E.O. of D.O.T.C.O.M. As in Producer of 1 Billion in downloaded apps, Adrianna Dahl." She scowled, spitting through gritted teeth.

"Oh."

"Oh?!?"

"Yeah. Oh. I-- don't have a phone."

"You don't have a--" Suddenly she realised he was telling the truth. The humm around him was strangely silent. Her face screwed up in bafflement. "What kind of caveman are you..?"

"Waaaaait... you thought I was trying to make a move on you."

"Shut up!"

"What kind of caveman am I..? What's the gravity like on the planet you're from?"

"Shutup-Shutup-Shutup!"

"Lady, I'm seventeen." He said as the doors opened. The use of 'Lady' just driving home another wound.

"Ohmigod would you shut up!" She said as she stepped out. Raising her palms as if desperate to just push the entire situation away from her.

"Sure, sure. Where do you want the box?"

"Just-- put it down and go already."

"Done. I'm out." He put both boxes down, removed the top box and laid it at her feet, before picking his footlocker back up and hitting the button for the elevator which instantly opened. Adie had technopatically held the lift on their floor til this horiffic situation could be whisked away, anyone else wanting the lift would just have to wait.

---

The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor, and Banjo alighted with his big box o' everything.

It was far quieter than the communal hustle and bustle of downstairs.

"Hey! Zimmerman!" He called out into the silence.

After a few seconds a head poked out of a doorway into the hall.

"Yeeeah..?" The head offered tentatively.

"Yeah, you've got a room in there for me."

"Oh so you're Andr--"

"Banjo." He corrected. "But the name you probably got given was 'Andrew Olyphant' or something like that. Anyway, can I chuck this stuff on inside?" He asked, slapping the sides of the footlocker with his fingers.

"Ban-- Banjo?" The diminutive kid's eyes doubled. "Yeah, yeah, sure man. Just let me get the door."

Zimmerman scurried around the door and held it open for him, giving him a wide berth.

Banjo walked in, and was stunned at the size of the place. He'd been in a lot of boarding schools, but even the fanciest, which most 'catered to the elite' still had nothing on the living space. Along with a large kid reading a comic on a long sectional couch who seemed completely non-plussed by his presence.

"Bloody Hell..." He exclaimed.

"Ye-- Yeah, pretty good, eh?" Zimmerman said with a smile.

"Anyway, I'm Alex. The guy lying on the couch is 'Big Steve' and yeah... welcome to our humble abode!" Alex started to get more excited. Jittery. "Kitchen. Bathroom. Laundry. Tv... I mean, obviously. Of course there's another in your-- oh, right! Your room!"

Alex led the way to a door, grabbed the handle and opened it. Revealing an exorbitantly sized bedroom for a boarding house.

"You can put your box down in there."

Banjo walked around the room. It allowed a small amount of natural light through a single small south-facing window. Banjo considered this and wondered how far he could push his luck.

"Any chance I could snatch up one of the southern bedrooms?"

"Uhh--" Alex considered a door which had been locked up tight since Banjo had gotten there. "Well, Big Steve has the other northern bedroom, and then there's-- you know what. Just take mine. I'll move my stuff in there now. Gimme five minutes."

"It's just-- I just got out of hospital, and natural sunlight's good for me."

"Yeah, no, don't worry about it, don't mention it..." Alex scurried around moving his stuff into the other bedroom. "You might want to wash the bedding and stuff, but other than that I try to keep it clean. Just let me know if you find any of my stuff that I missed still floating around."

Banjo reached up on Alex's shelf and grabbed a toy Superman figurine.

"Hey, whoa, got that. Let me just take that off you... Thanks."

"You blokes like comics..? Gimme a minute, let's see what I've got here..."

Banjo put his footlocker down in the once-Zimmerman's-now-his bedroom and opened up the industrial storage sized padlock that kept it locked. Flipping the lid back. He started digging through the detritus of his life until he produced a handful of dog-eared and slightly torn up Phantom comics.

"Bloke who drives me round, if there's a major city fair when we're there he scoops me a couple of showbags. Gets me one with these, and a Bertie Beetle bag every time. But you want to have a look-see, go for it."

Alex took the books, that were in such a state of disrepair they made him considerably nervous that this Banjo might ever touch his own things, and returned an attempt at a smile. "The Phantom. This is like that Billy Zane movie, yeah?"

"Whoa... they're black and white?"

"Yeah, they're made on that newspaper paper type. Keeps them cheap, I s'pose. Whaddayou call it--"

"Pulp."

"Yeah, that!"

"Anyway, you want to go grab the stuff out of the room they assigned you and bring it in here. You've got some school uniforms and books and stuff."

He re-hung the school clothes in the closet, which looked bare as he still kept his other clothes and belongings in his footlocker. And brought back an arm full of his schoolbooks which he dumped into the footlocker, before locking it back up.

He looked in his pocket at the envelope he'd scooped off his desk, and opening it read some garbage about how he'd 'Made the right choice' from some House Captain or Team Spirit leader or who-gives-a-shit who. He slid the letter back in and flung the envelope to sights unseen within the darkest corners of his new room somewhere.

Banjo left the room and looked down from the living quarters. Far below was a pool, patio, barbecue and hot tub. He remembered back to that night about Calliope not feeling comfortable in a state of undress in front of him... but maybe things would be different in a bathing suit? He started to plot his plots, and plan his plans, as gears turned.

"Oh, you're looking at the pool." Alex Zimmerman stated the obvious.

"Ever have building wide parties down there, or anything like that?"

"Heh. YEAH they do."

Banjo straightened up. "They?"

"Yeah, but, y'know. We're not really invited."

"Invited? You live here. It's implied."

"Yeeeah, but they wouldn't really want us down there."

Banjo raised his eyebrows in disbelief at what he was hearing. "If I only ever went to places I was wanted, I wouldn't go anywhere. Anyway, I've gotta go see a bloke about something. Don't wait up." He left, closing the door behind him.

"Huh. That went well. Seriously, he's THAT Banjo kid?"

"I can't believe you just gave him your room."

"No, no! This'll work out, see. Because HE'S cool. He'll open doors and get us in places."

"Didn't you hear him? He doesn't get invited. He just goes."

"I know! And how cool is that!"

Big Steve turned the page and continued reading his comic book.

"I dunno. I'm just not sure I ever heard of 'Cool' being a transferrable property. Call me skeptical. Look just... don't get your hopes up. We don't know anything about the guy."

"Uhh... we know he's cool, and a fucking SCHOOL HERO right now. What else is there to know?"

Big Steve shook his head and kept reading.

---

The Butler and Banjo walked up and down the aisles of the fishing tackle shop. The Butler had a cheap white Captain's hat on him which to Banjo looked ridiculous, and he didn't hesitate to tell him as much.

"You didn't tell me we had 'Boat money'."

"That's because WE don't have 'Boat money'. I have 'Boat money'. Just like I had squirreled away 'Downpayment for a House in the Alumni Village' money. 'WE' have 'Pay Your Tuition for a school which covers those costs in other ways and doesn't ask us for so much as five cents' money."

"Have you ever even taken a boat out on the water?"

"Yeeees, mate, I have taken a boat out on the water. I have had a life outside of driving you about the bloody place." He rolled his eyes, exasperated at the younger one's incessant questioning and doubts towards his capabilities.

He carried the large tacklebox, whilst Banjo hefted the plastic bags of bait that he'd ask for.

"Right, Gene. I'll take the tacklebox, the bait, and anything else you've got to recommend putting in the tacklebox. Oh, and all on the card. Cheers. Ta."

"And that'll be all?"

"That'll be all for today, Gene." He paid for everything, and a receipt spurted out, which he quickly scrawled and signed.

"Well, catch you next time, Harry! Best of luck!"

'Harry'! Banjo thought to himself, and slapped a palm down on the bench over the receipt. Finally, he'd slipped up and given him something. A smirk crossed the Butler's face.

Banjo looked down at the receipt.

"Oh, Ha Ha. Very bloody funny."

The smirk on the Butler's face widened.

Banjo held the receipt up to the man behind the counter.

"You know he's not Harold Bloody Holt, right?"

"The payments clear." He shrugged. "Who's Harold Holt?"

"Former Prime Minister of Australia. He disappeared one day in the '60s when he went for a swim."

"And a bloody long swim to Canada it was, too. Catch ya next time, Gene!" The Butler said, picking up his purchases and heading for the door.

"Bye Harry!" Was the returning farewell. Banjo quietly seethed.

The Butler laughed as the pair got outside. "You really thought you bloody had me there, didn't you?"

"We've been living these lives for how long now? And you really think I don't have my shit down pat?"

"I need a phone."

"Awww not this garbage again, we've been over this..."

"It's different now. I need to be able to airdrop assignments. It's becoming increasingly weird that I DON'T have one to people around me."

"The people around you who are alive, yeah? And it's pretty nice that they are. So how about we keep it that way?"

"Look, could you at least EXPLAIN it to me properly so that it makes sense, and then maybe none of this would be necessary."

"Mate, it's not my place to tell."

"Why can't I have a normal FUCKING life?!" He exploded. "I get dragged around the country for a decade and a half, then flown overseas just to be told 'Yeah, we're settling you down here' but you still can't have the bas--"

"Alllright. Enough of the sob story. Look. I'll see what I can do. But no promises. This is-- it's not the best time. It's a shitty time really. I've got to talk to someone."

The weekend had passed and gone.

Suzie wasn't surprised that none of the newbies had chosen Gulo as their house of choice. By the reaction some of them had had at the ceremony, she figured that they might've been scared away at the prospect of joining her house. Her mood had soured by the end of the event, and she was even wishing that certain individuals would decide to stay as far as away from Gulo as they could. The team swap had become a total disaster, and it just got worse as it went on.

Regardless, Suzie still stood by her actions. Despite the turmoil that had been kicked up, she still felt sympathy for Blackjack. They had just lost one of their team members, and now their death was splintering their ranks. It reminded her of herself, in a way. Loss hit everyone hard, and she was no stranger to it herself, but Suzie believed that Cass wouldn't have wanted his team to fall apart to infighting. Of course, she hadn't actually known Cassander. She didn't know how tightly bonded Blackjack truly was by then. It just made sense to her that someone wouldn't want people to fight among themselves after their death.

"Oh, Suz! Thank the moon you're here! I've been trying to show this blockhead where the issue is, but he's oblivious!" A spotted cow, Sarah, pleaded. To anyone else, it would've sound like a series of repetitive moos.

"I should've never told you about The Cow That Jumped Over the Moon." Suzie sighed, taking a bite of a granola bar as she knelt down and checked where the cow pointed her to. "Yup. There's the problem—that's one nasty hoof. It'll have to be chiseled down so the cavity can be cleaned up and sterilized."

"Eugh, I feel sick. How can you eat while looking at that?" Her peer, the Blockhead, quickly spoke up once Suzie had diagnosed the issue for him and the cow.

"My family used to work in the seafood industry. Had a small boat, too." Suzie responded to her inquisitive peer. "I've seen enough blood and guts in my day just from experience, so nothing really bothers me anymore."

Well, that was a half-lie. The terrified animal screams of those Suzie tried to cook up prior to her turn to veganism still very much haunted her to this day. It was difficult to eat meat when it literally screamed back at you for mercy during preparation.

"Anyway, go let the doc know. I have to head out now, so update me when I get back."

Patting Sarah on the back, Suzie left the school's meager farm to go change out of her work clothing, swapping bib trousers and rubber boots out for her school uniform. Today had been her first official day of the H.E.A.T. program, and her first class of said program was scheduled to take place in a few minutes. She considered heading to the Law & Liberal Arts wing ahead of time, but they had been told to gather outside the mess hall by their team representatives, so she made way over towards the building instead to wait for everyone else to arrive.

As she arrived to their meeting point, however, Suzie looked puzzled at the mess hall gathering. She wasn't exactly the early type, yet from those she saw, there had only been a couple members of the three H.E.A.T. teams had shown up so far. The outspoken blonde from Blackjack, currently distracted by her phone. The redhead that had joined Eclipse alongside her. It seemed like they were going to have to wait a bit longer before heading to their first class of the day.

"Did everyone decide to sleep in today, or am I just early?" Suzie asked the redhead, both out of curiosity and to strike up a conversation to pass the time.

Even after three nights in the new bed, Alyssa couldn't fully express just how nice it was to be able to fully stretch out and starfish across the entire queen-sized mattress.

And the closet.

After living out of her suitcases for over a week, it was incredible to slide a door open and see uniforms neatly hung, waiting for her, as opposed to folded up in a footlocker at the end of a bunk bed. The biggest downside to all of this was still having to get up at the crack of dawn.

She was used to it, of course, the Foundation, not to mention her previous boarding schools had a regimented schedule. The best times however had been when she was outside of either institution, and she had been at home in California. Waking up early to catch the morning surf was rejuvenating, far more than the morning tea she was currently enjoying.

Despite the considerable downtown presented after Hyperion's attack, Alyssa had yet to venture across the island to explore the beach beyond the quick glimpse she had gotten from the cove during the funeral. She missed the feel of the Pacific crashing over her. The island had the ocean air, but it wasn't the same as Laguna Beach.

Buttoning up her blazer, Alyssa finished getting ready. Placing her textbooks into her bag, she started across campus towards the Mess Hall, arriving just ahead of a couple of students. Behind her, Layla Schade and Noah Gallager appeared nearly simultaneously before the blonde girl who had been in a wheelchair prior to the events of the Team Swap arrived. Behind Alyssa, another new member of Team Eclipse arrived, looking around briefly before addressing Alyssa.

"Did everyone decide to sleep in today, or am I just early?"

Alyssa giggled at the comment before responding.

"I guess so, perhaps they're not accustomed to the early wake-up time yet? I know a lot of students value their sleep, especially coming off a weekend. I think I do my best thinking in the morning, there's something beautiful about rising with the sun. Especially with a good tea." Alyssa rambled, holding up her own mug, the strong smell of peppermint evident.

"Alyssa Townsend," She added, extending her free hand, "You're Suzanna Poots right? New transfer to the Hyperhuman Enforcement Accelerated Training program? What made you want to change?" Her gaze drifted from Suz, towards the three faculty members, resting particularly on the dishevelled-looking Jim. Her expression soured slightly before turning back to Suz and continuing to speak.

"I know we're not up first for Practical Ability training, but I am hesitantly looking forward to it. I've never been particularly fond of my abilities, but I am looking forward to exploring them in a safe environment. What about you?"

Sleeping in was a foreign concept to Suzie. She had long grown used to the early Alaskan sunrise, having grown up with longer sunlit days than the rest of the country. With the family business often requiring early wake-up calls as well, it would've likely taken something akin to a miracle for her to not be up and ready for whatever came that day.

That said, Suzie would've much preferred a cup of cowboy coffee over a mug of tea.

As Suzie reached out to shake Alyssa's hand, an uncomfortable smile curled its way upon her lips. S-u-z-a-n-n-a. It had been her actual name, so the girl hadn't been in the wrong to use it. Yet regardless, the word itself was like tiny knives, each letter stabbing Suzie in the heart. It was old-fashioned, and made her feel ancient, as if she was an elderly woman from the 50's or some other long-forgotten decade. Which, to be fair, was probably because it had been her great-grandmother's name in the first place. She may have loved her great-grandmother dearly, but the name Suzanna definitely should've stayed a name of the past.

"Suzie. Or Suz." Suzie replied, perhaps a bit curtly. She had held every ounce of willpower in to not make a big scene, hoping to avoid the wrath of their team representatives."Suzanna was my great-grandmother's name. Suffice to say, I'm not her."

Suzie sighed. She was going to have to correct everyone she met, wasn't she? It had been all thanks to A-Aron over there, her brand new "team representative" as per her H.E.A.T. enrollment.

"That being said, I guess I just felt there were places I could do better." She continued. "With everything that has happened."

It may have only been a gut feeling as of now, but the feeling was there nonetheless. Suzie had no interest in the H.E.A.T. program, at least originally. She simply wanted to continue her studies at Pacific Royal as they were. But then Hyperion attacked the school, and people either got hurt or lost their lives. She hadn't a bone to pick with Hyperion, but the incident had awoke something inside Suzie. Old memories resurfaced, and the nightmare forced itself back into her head. She may have not been able to help her family that day, but she could at least help stop similar loss from ever happening again by assisting H.E.A.T. in their mission.

By then, however, the prior uncomfortableness Suzie felt had faded. She may have been slighted just moments ago, but Alyssa had unknowingly walked into a trap as she spoke of training. Playfully teasing her would be fun.

"Though, I can't imagine needing a practical environment to talk to animals. I already hear plenty of dirty secrets from them on the regular. Some of it is absolutely bewildering, you know?"

Suzie grinned mischievously, waiting to see what her teammate's reaction would be.

Haleigh looked up from her phone to the person speaking to her.

"Sure, I don't mind."

The person in question had been one of Firebird's—Efraim Tenorio, one of her three new dorm mates. There hadn't been much that Haleigh actually knew about him, to be honest. They had chosen the same house and had met over the weekend, but being on different teams left much to be discovered. Still, from the little they talked, Efraim seemed nice enough, and she didn't mind passing time with him while they waited for everyone else to gather outside the mess hall.

Closing her phone, Haleigh slid it back in her pocket and turned to Efraim.

"So, how did you like breakfast? I hope it turned out right. I don't usually cook on a stove. I mean, at least not an electric stove like the ones in our dorms. I was always been out and about helping to teach outdoor classes or acting as a trail guide, so I had grown used to cooking directly over fire, or if I had it, a portable butane stove."

Oh no, Haleigh, there you went again, rambling on about camping and the outdoors. Any time the opportunity came up she just couldn't help herself. It had happened at the campsite, when she tried showing her know-how to everyone... only to nearly have a meltdown when she realized that the school had taken out all the fun and hard-earned effort that came with setting up your own tent and campground. What was the point in going camping if you were going to not put the work in?

At least the school couldn't ruin her family's camping recipes on top of everything. Or so Haleigh hoped. The meal seemed fine to her, but she hadn't heard from the boys as to whether or not they liked it or not.

"If you guys want, I can always handle the meal plan while you guys help cover the other chores that need doing. I'd have to check in with Rory first, though. Given that he is certainly all into sports and exercise, I'm not entirely sure if he keeps to a special diet or limits his intake of certain things."