[u]Rosette Sauveterre [/u]

Rosette looked at the woman, “You are too quick to judge me.” She said, before rising from her seat, “In any case, these events greatly concern me. The Headmaster has handled this situation poorly. There should have been a proper funeral or memorial service. With the culprit running loose, and people deciding to take matters into their own hands, there is no telling how many innocent people will be punished by overzealous vigilante heroes or how many of these people will overestimate their own strength and get injured after picking fights.” She looked around, her voice dropping to a murmur, more to herself than another person, “Speaking of regulations, groups of three at all times…” She mused, before finally walking off, leaving Theresa to her private thoughts.

Rosette was not a person to show her emotions, but by no means was she apathetic. Her ability to reign in her feelings so that logic could prevail had been a necessary evil. If she were to permit herself to experience too much of any emotion, whether it was fear, anger, grief, even happiness; any extreme could result in a disaster. She had to tone down her feelings for the sake of processing information and ensuring that nothing was left out of consideration. It was the only way that she had managed to survive, for she had risked her life on multiple occasions for the sake of research. Why she continued to place herself in a dangerous situation was a mystery, even to Rosette herself, except that an odd combination of revulsion and curiosity motivated her to continue in the use of her dimensional-phasing powers.

Rosette was fully aware that her own behaviors placed her at odds with others, for the most part. Her personality, however, was nothing comparable to that of a pie or cake, if flavor could be some sort of parallel. Most people did not immediately reap any sort of benefit or pleasure from her company; some were even repulsed by it. If Rosette were comparable to a flavor, it was strong, bitter coffee. Some people, rarely, liked it the first time they tried it, some never did. There were also people brave enough to try it multiple times, until they gradually found that they had developed a liking for it. Overall, Rosette had her good points, but people who were too quick to judge her for the sharp bitterness that marked her personality were unlikely to learn what made her truly unique as a person. It was a quite silly-sounding metaphor, but not an entirely bad one.

[u]Codi Bailey, Atticus Fowler, and Rosette Sauveterre [/u]

After the speech made by the Headmaster, and then Henry’s outburst, Atticus continued to sit by his friend Codi, who seemed completely stunned. It was not grief or terror that caused her to freeze like a statue, but the sheer lack of emotion on the part of the Headmaster, who was supposed to be responsible for all of the students’ safety. Neither of them took his statement very well, as it was so impersonal and numb to the feelings and emotions of the student body and faculty that it seemed he did not even care at all. They did not know if it was because he genuinely did not care about the person who had died, or if it was because something like the murder had never happened before. Either way, asking people to ignore a murder was a ridiculous request that would never be fulfilled.

“Hey, Atticus…?” Codi asked, finally choking something out, her voice coming out as a weird squeak. He looked at her, keeping his expression stoic, although he hid his hands in his pockets to conceal the fact that they were shaking. “Do you think this sort of thing is normal? A lot of people seemed shocked, but the Headmaster just didn’t seem to act that way…” She drifted off, not sure why she suddenly felt so tired. Once again, the stress was wearing her down. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and fall asleep. With her limbs as heavy and sore as they felt from the workout yesterday, they might as well have been lumps of coral on the bottom of the ocean floor.

Atticus glimpsed at the empty stage, “I don’t know, but for whatever reason, he sure didn’t capture the hearts of anyone in this auditorium, did he?” He said, his voice conveying more of the emotion that wasn’t apparent on his face. “Look, let’s just find a third person to walk with us and get out of here. Something about this room is starting to bug me, and there isn’t even a real reason why.” He said, before the two got up.

It was then that Rosette walked up to them after having approached from the other side of the room, once again, completely unnoticed. Her sudden appearance startled Atticus, who turned around and backed away quickly upon seeing her, “Oh, yikes! A little warning before you walk up behind people!” He exclaimed, before the shock wore off. “Are you looking for people to leave the auditorium with?” He asked, his face having never changed once.

Rosette tilted her head quizzically, “It is strange how your emotions carry into every aspect of your voice and body language, but never once show on your face.” She commented, before answering, “Yes, I saw you over here, and I do not have anyone else to walk with.”

Codi looked at her, “Hey, Rosette, how is your day?” She asked, the question sounding weird, considering the circumstances.

“My day has been somewhat horrid, but I suspect not a lot of people have had much sleep. Everyone is on edge and giving each other suspicious looks, and a great tension hangs over the entire school. I have been getting some of these looks, and it is enough to make me say that there truly are times that I wish I could sink into the floor and be forgotten, for a time.” She said, “It also makes me want to cry, but I refrain from that.”

Atticus pulled his hands out of his pockets, somehow feeling calmer just by looking at this person who seemed to feel nothing at all, yet stated their emotions. The fact that she could mentally process what she felt and effectively deal with her emotions was to the point that it was almost scary. It had made him suspicious and uneasy before, but after repeated cases where she had clearly been making awkward attempts at friendship, as weak as they were, he had gotten used to it. She had been isolated since the age of eleven, and had been isolated for eleven more years, literally half of her life. He had to be more forgiving, since even one year without any sort of outside contact had been proven to negatively affect people’s ability to talk to strangers. “You never seem like you want to cry.” He said.

Rosette raised an eyebrow at him, a mild facial expression, “Neither do you, until you get caught off-guard.” She said.