Flickering lights, dancing on the linoleum floor. Waving back and forth as if the world itself was falling away.

Norma was collapsed on the floor of a gas station bathroom. Legs buckled underneath, limp hand not really grasping the tube of liquid charcoal at her side. So sick. So tired. Could not even shed a tear for this situation any more. There was more anger than regret. She hated this. She wanted to be a normal kid so badly in the same way other Exiles wanted, but she had never experienced so much as a day in school or having a friend. Here she lay like some kind of disheveled sewer rat, hair a tangled mess, dirty clothes, quite nearly crawling back to this store on all fours in search of what she needed. 

The Exile front clerk who worked at this hour had taken pity on her, lending her medicines for the past few days that she'd haul back to that mattress-lined car in the junkyard. Neither had gotten chummy enough thus far to share their names. Norma figured perhaps today was the day to admit to him she had no powered parent to run back to. That she was homeless. Wondered how he'd react. But as soon as she started to tell him, a cold tingle of hesitation ran the length of her body and she shut herself away in the bathroom. She couldn't bother anyone with her problems. She needed to take care of herself now. Like how the adults took care of themselves.

Rolling up onto her feet, waves of dizziness almost knocking her back down, she managed to stumble to the door and pull it open.

Quickly ducking back in, the girl gasped. A man in a mask was holding his arm out threatening the clerk- another Exile? The clerk surprised her by revealing his own power so readily. Three of her kind, together in the same store. The masked Exile gained his trust to boot, allowed to freely loot the place. Still, she wasn't ready to offer her own trust. Fingers gripping the edge tensely, she remained behind the door, peering out through a crack and waiting for him to leave.