Vince flinched as Specter fell down the ramp. He flinched as the teacher (he assumed anyway.) barked loudly for attention. He flinched as the same man screamed out barrack assignments. In fact, there probably wasn’t much in that ten minute time frame where his current status did not contain the phrase ‘flinched at x’. 

He raised his hand after HD finished, wanting to ask directions or where they pick up their luggage, only to be ignored. Slowly he retracts his arm, looking at his fellow students. They did not inspire much confidence. He takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what he should do. [i]”I…guess it is kind of like the homeless shelters back home…[/i]” he thinks, relaxing a bit as the familiar sensation of serene confusion(either by ignorance or dementia), and remembers rule number one of being homeless. The drunk know what they are doing and are the least dangerous. 

He looks around somewhat frantically, figuring the odds of finding someone with alcohol being slim in this group. He sighs, relieved, as he spots a brunette with a bottle of hooch. He shuffles over quickly, trying not to lose her. “Um Excuse me miss!” He calls after her, his voice coming off more like a squeak than a demand. “Uh…you... wouldn’t know how we’re supposed to get our uh…bags and stuff right? Or…where the um…dorms are?”