[@Leslie Hall][@Redward]

Icarus looked up at the severe looking woman, her tone cutting through his daze and dragging him back to the real world. He was familiar with that tone of voice, but he wasn't aware that it occurred naturally in people. Usually that sort of voice came from someone that was running on nothing but day old coffee and sheer bloody minded spite. He'd been the cause of more than his fair share of long hours at the Institute for already overworked interns and jumped back from the podium on instinct. You didn't cross someone that was in that mindset. 

Straitening up, he thought through the implications of his being here. He was in trouble, and that wasn't good, but was it the sort of trouble that the Institute would care about? He had been up on the roof, someplace out of the way and unobserved, and that was something they would definitively care about. Enough to pull him out of school, maybe? Maybe. It was only his second week, and if the staff thought he was using this as an opportunity to wander around unobserved they might think the risk was too great to continue. But wait, that wasn't what he was actually in trouble for was it? According to the gorilla boy he'd been "skipping class." He hadn't known that Icarus had been on the roof. He'd found him in the hall. The hall wasn't exactly someplace out of the way. Would where Icarus had been caught be noted in his report?

Icarus was surprised to feel the sides of his mouth lifting up into a grin. Despite himself, he could feel excitement building. He'd been in trouble before, but he'd never been in trouble like this! When he got in trouble back home it was because the Institute knew he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be or messing around with something he wasn't supposed to mess with. He was always under observation. There was no opportunity to make up a lie or an excuse because all their information was first hand. This, though, was away from their eyes. Now he was the one with all the information and they had to rely on purely second hand evidence. The deck was stacked against him, but he had a chance to tip things in his favor if he played his cards right.

He remembered when Dr. Johannes had first played cards with him on one particularly boring day two months after his first BugFix. It was a simple game, he now realized. Old maid. At the time, however, the high he'd gotten from the experience of learning the game and playing against her had kept him awake most of that night. This was like that, he realized with astonishment. This was a game! This must be a game played by totally normal teenagers all over the world at all hours of the day. One built into the very patent/child dynamic! 

By now he was smiling ear to ear. Were the risks inherent to this situation worth the experience of it? Absolutely!

Of course, he'd need to figure out the rules. He turned back to the teacher. "This if my f-f-first time. W-w-what are the rules of d-d-detention?" He asked excitedly. "How does it w-w-work? W-what do you tell our gu-guardians?"