The understanding of how to use the mask came to him automatically, as quiet and as effect as a whisper.

The first time he had used his power on someone, other than himself, was on a student during a beach trip. With the small amount of boardwalk bringing him close enough to see the edge where water ebbed and flowed over sand, as his more sand and surf wheelchair had gone into a bad state of disrepair from disuse…the photography instructor ended up settling down beside the last student left as the others had gone off to take photos. Too blessed was he, having the best behaved class.

After an hour under the hot sun, one of the teens finally got back to him, and more specifically...the water cooler, with bottles of water. Such an impulse it was, with the mask tucked into his bag latched onto his wheelchair, and a bottle of dry beach sand given to him by one o the female students. The illusion in place, even he saw the crystal clear bottle of cool water go from his hand into the teen boy’s…and yet he felt his stomach drop as the youth removed the top and tilted his head back, even when the illusion kept with the flowing clear water that looked too delicious in this heat.

The teen wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, screwing the cap on…there was something off in his gut feeling, before he finally noticed the wheelchair bound teacher visibly blanched with a look of what could have been guilt...and horror…upon his face, “Hey, Mr Foster, you alright?” As the illusion ended, sand poured out from the boy’s mouth as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, wrong bottle.”

-----

That incident had been explained as a combination of the youth suffering from some mild heat stroke, which would explain the carelessness and just straight up drinking a good portion of a bottle of sand. The teen recovered, nobody was charged as it had been clearly a series of accidents, but Isaiah Foster never forgot…as easy as willing it, a person could gulp down a glass of sand like it was the sweetest flowing, lightest juice upon their tongue.

“Sir, are you feeling alright?”

Being brought out of his stupor, he would have jumped slightly in his seat if he could. Turning and peering up at the older waitress looking at his with some concern to her expression, he chuckled and smiled easily at her, taking note of her nametag just at eye level, “Sorry, [i]Gertrude[/i], I must still have been half asleep.”

Isaiah couldn't help but be reminded of the nurses typical of hospitals, looking at Gertrude’s expression change slightly…there was still [i]pity[/i], but no more than he expected, and favourably less so, even. “You travelling?” Isaiah could really only give a truthful nod to his inquiry, “If you're tired, you must be driving an awful lot, where you heading?”

Honestly, he didn't know. Heck, he didn't even know why he had just felt the urge to get on up and out here, though jokingly he thought to himself, [i]‘Early midlife crisis, perhaps?’[/i] Maybe a restlessness due to routine…which, in actuality, wasn't something he tended to have at all in life. As smooth as Isaiah’s life seemed to far, as face value, he really wasn't a planner. Still, he had to give some sort of lie, so he didn't sound like he was just going to roll off and disappear from the world.

So, he gave the waitress the same answer he gave his wife, like he was the one cheating and had to hide what he planned on doing…

“A colleague and I are getting together to work on photography project. Now…hmmm, can you tell me a little bit about this breakfast special?”