[h1][i][color=7ea7d8]Mason Crawford[/color][/i][/h1][hr]

Mason smiled, but didn't say anything else for a short moment. He pulled out a pair of round sunglasses, in tortoiseshell and gold, which he slid onto his face delicately. The sun was indeed glaring on the water, but the act was more a force of habit; an urge to don some form of protection as he grew pensive. It wasn't Casper's fault, but speaking to the boy took Mason back to a time when he felt lost and alone; a time which, he now realised, was not all that dissimilar from what might lie ahead. He had no idea what life at the academy was going to be like, and it made him feel vulnerable.

"Hey," a female voice said, dragging Mason's thoughts back to the deck. She was a heavy-set girl, but particularly beautiful. Her features were all soft and curved; she had a consistent sleekness to her form that appealed to the artist in Mason. Her face was precious and delicate, like a porcelain doll but without the milk-white complexion; this girl's skin was deep and warm. "You have to tell me the story behind the dungarees and pink streaks." she said, with barely enough cracks in her chirpiness to let on that she was nervous. [i][color=7ea7d8]Heck, we're all nervous[/color][/i], Mason thought to himself. [i][color=7ea7d8]It's just some of us are better at hiding it.[/color][/i] 

Casper was not one of these people, Mason observed as he watched his new acquaintance stutter his way through the conversation in the same way he had when they had first spoken moments ago. Casper clearly had some confidence issues, as it seemed like it took every ounce of his being to force out words when introducing himself, but Mason guessed the reason for the boy's unpopularity was rooted in misunderstanding. After giving Casper a chance to say his piece, Mason laughed. 

"[color=7ea7d8]What Casper is trying to say, is that we're pretty much the coolest people on the boat.[/color]" he said, winking at the girl to let her know he was joking. He smiled, and extended a hand to shake. "[color=7ea7d8]I'm Mason,[/color]" he said, noticing the thick crust of clay under the girl's nails as he introduced yourself. "[color=7ea7d8]Ah, the sign of an artist,[/color]" he exclaimed, "[color=7ea7d8]What kind of sculpting do you do?[/color]" If Mason's attire didn't give away that he was creatively-inclined, a more observant eye might spot speckles of paint on his dungarees.

The idea of meeting more creative people at the school was one that had thus far been foreign to him. Coming from such an artistic background, it didn't occur to Mason that there might not be many creatives at the academy. He wondered if Casper, too, was a creative spirit; he would make sure to ask him later. After all, he assumed most people didn't come to a school for metahumans to learn about early surrealism or the influence of Greek sculpture. They were all here for one reason: they were different.

This was a thought that unsettled Mason, and he was thankful his eyes were masked by his retro sunglasses. Mason's own power was decidedly lame, and he could find very little use for it other than ensuring he could spend time alone without any possible interruption. If this was, indeed, the true extent of his abilities, he would learn how to control them to stop his night episodes, and then leave the school. He didn't see much need in staying to earn a NEST certificate for a power that would not be particularly useful in public.

But what about the other students? What strange and wonderful abilities did the people on this boat possess? Perhaps Casper could shoot lasers from his eyes, or the girl could fly. What if they had abilities that could kill Mason in the blink of an eye? Or invade on his privacy? Mason shuddered at the idea of being watched by an invisible classmate, or having this thoughts perused like a catalogue. The latter would ruin him. He stayed externally calm and returned his focus to the conversation.

"[color=7ea7d8]So, we're all here for the same reason, right?[/color]" he said, trying to make the question sound casual. "[color=7ea7d8]What can you two... Do?[/color]" he asked, hoping the question wasn't considered rude or intrusive. He didn't really know what the social norms were when discussing things like this. There was only one way to find out.