"We're here," said the guard pushing Tiffany's wheelchair, prodding her shoulder.

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked around. An enormous mansion stood before her, and as she watched, the other prisoners strode in. Frowning, she strained her memory. Before she'd fallen asleep, she'd been taken on the jet. The damn fluid in her blood must have gotten the better of her during the trip.

"The worst of your shot should be wearing off by now," said the guard. "The doc told me not to stick you again. But before you get any ideas, remember that the ones in charge here are Gifted, and a hell of a lot more experienced than you are. You'd do well not to betray their trust."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Tiffany, rubbing her eyes. Her escort pushed her down a long hallway lined with paintings. Doors branched off on either side. Eventually, they stopped in front of them. 

"This will be your room. Feel free to change your clothing, then meet up with the others in the foyer." He shut the door behind her, and suddenly, she was alone. And she could [i]finally[/i] be rid of her icky prison uniform!

She slowly pushed herself onto her feet, holding on to the wheelchair for support. Once she was sure she wouldn't fall over, she shambled to her drawers and dug through the clothing within. Thankfully, the selection was diverse.

With some difficulty, she changed into a tanktop, short skirt, and a pair of flip flops. Before being captured, she had been teaching herself how to fly, and the lighter she was, the easier than would be. In a way, it was lucky that the crappy prison food had kept her from ruining her slim figure despite lying around all the time. She would be ready to soar at a moment's notice, as soon as she saw the opportunity to escape.

She sighed, forcing herself to her feet. The effect of her shot was all but entirely gone by now; the weakness left to her was the result of long disuse. Best not to risk being locked away again just to avoid a little strain.

She retraced her steps and, thankfully, quickly found her way to the foyer. She chose the seat farthest from any of the others, which put her near the front. Nonetheless, she could hear the lot of them comparing the mansion to hell. Whatever. Let them get all chummy. She wouldn't be misled by friendship again. When the time for her to leave arrived, there would be no one around to rat her out.