[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#38547C]Keaton Plasse[/color][/h3][hr][sup][i][/i][/sup][indent] [/indent]
Adjusting her grip on her suitcase, Keaton looked around, the action more out of habit than anything. With ship was setting off soon, as announced by intercom, this empty period of time where she was forced to think about her father was. thankfully, coming to an end. Soon, she’d be tens of thousands of miles from him—farther than she could ever be on Earth. ‘The Promise’ had been as much as a choice for her as her choosing to let the black-suited people into her apartment when they arrived, but she wasn’t scared. Wary, perhaps, and too anxious to think about much else at the moment, but not scared. Sure there was plenty to be afraid of on the ship she’d been slotted to live on, but the system had checked them for this long. There was no reason it wouldn’t continue to perform as it had, and though she had doubts as to whether she even belonged with the rest of the parahumans, the line between ‘her’ and ‘them’ was getting thinner by the day. As normal as she felt, there was no denying the interviews she’d had or the ‘procedural tests’ she’d taken, just as there was no denying the sheer number of people in this ship with her.

[color=#38547C]“Keaton Plasse,”[/color] she said when she reached the head of the check-in line. 

The attendant with the clipboard gave her a once over, checking her against the screen before nodding and motioning to her left. By her outfit—a different color of the same uniform Keaton and every other student had been instructed to wear—she was a staff member of the Promise program, or at least something of the sort. No powers though, or at least none of note. Otherwise she’d have had a more important job than checking in students.

Lifting her suitcase, Keaton hefted it onto the conveyor belt into the ship underbelly, walking away as it moved down the belt. The luggage had been checked when she entered the building, but down the belt were a few people in uniforms that were more than just standing guard. While Keaton didn’t know what exactly they’d been posted to do, by the looks of it, it seemed they were probably parahumans, which lined up with what The Promise had promised. Parahumans teaching parahumans how to use their powers, or so she’d been told. While she didn’t have any reasons for her trust in the half-promises she’d been told, she was willing to give the ship a shot. Maybe she’d like it there, and maybe she didn’t. Either way, being able to improve her power—or at least begin to figure out where it ended and she began—was a start. 

With her luggage was stowed away, Keaton moved on to her seat in the ship, sitting down and buckling in. As she clicked the seatbelt in place, wondering what the point of it was, the seat beside her creaked. A girl sat down, adjusting her red-blonde hair, the gold chains around her neck jangling against the zipper of her black leather jacket. Her hair was probably dyed—or not. Odd color if it wasn’t dyed, Keaton supposed. Judging by the haphazard way she wore her jewelry, Keaton would have guessed that she was the punk rocker type, but Keaton wasn’t getting a yes for that either. 

Adjusting her feet, Keaton glanced out the window, then at the girl again, giving her a smile through pursed lips when their eyes met. The girl smiled back, her dark lipstick starkly contrasting her pale features, but Keaton wasn’t paying attention anymore. Was she not naturally pale either? Not blue-eyed like she looked? There was no way those gold chains were real, right?

Keaton exhaled, fidgeting with her hands as she again averted her eyes. Then, glancing around, she stopped on a girl because—it was a boy, right? There was no way that wasn’t a boy. He fit the preppy jock type perfectly, yet she still wasn’t getting an answer. What was going on?

Her eyes skipped over a few members of the crew, and she frowned, her grip around her thumb tightening. Was this what it felt like to be powerless? To be ‘normal?’

“Yoo-hoo, you good?” 

Keaton blinked, meeting the eyes of the red-blonde girl again. Then, sighing, she nodded. [color=#38547C]“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just, well, jitters. Never been blasted into space before, you know?”[/color]

“Same,” the girl said, her smile almost coy. Although Keaton couldn’t guess the intentions behind the girl’s smile at the moment, it looked friendly enough. The lack of confirmation in Keaton’s gut, though, irked her enough to have her shift her legs again, hooking one ankle behind the other. Was this what life on the ship was going to be like? 

Soon enough the countdown started, and Keaton met her seat neighbor’s grin with reluctance written across her face.

[color=#38547C]“Hopefully this just feels like a strong roller coaster,”[/color] Keaton said.

The girl laughed, and the liftoff sounded, the din of the ship making up for the silence in Keaton’s head just before she was wrenched upwards by the force of the ship. Where she’d imagined a roller coaster, it was more like some crazy elevator starting upwards, the feeling of her insides shifting except exponentially stronger. For a moment, Keaton genuinely thought she might die, be sick, or worse, but that passed as cheers faded into existence along with the continued laughs of the girl beside her.

“I [i]wish[/i] this was a coaster. I’d do that again!” she shouted over the rumbling of the ship.

[color=#38547C]“Agree to disagree!”[/color] Keaton shouted back. [color=#38547C]“Ticket prices would be insane!”[/color]

“Free ride here! Not my choice though!” the girl shouted, grinning.

Keaton paused, then grinned as well. [color=#38547C]“You too?”[/color]

“Yep, bunch of hosts these uniforms are!”

[color=#38547C]“Yeah, baggage check lady gave me some real attitude earlier!”[/color]

The idle chatter—or, rather, shouting—continued until the ship stopped, and a glance out the window showed that they’d arrived. With a click, Keaton’s seat belt unhooked itself and retracted, leaving her clutching her seat as she tried to feel her toes.

“Upsy-daisy,” the girl beside her said, shooting up from her seat. She stumbled, catching herself on the head of her seat just in time. “Oops. Probably took that too fast there.”

[color=#38547C]“Yeah,”[/color] Keaton said, pushing up on the armrests to rise shakily to her legs. [color=#38547C]“Woah.”[/color]

“Yeesh, least they could’ve done was warn us,” the girl said as they made their way shakily towards the ship’s connecting door. When they reached it, they found that the corridor was filled with struggling students.

[color=#38547C]“Hold on, I need to get my suitcase,”[/color] Keaton said, reminded by the sight of some students inching along with their own rectangular rollers. [color=#38547C]“Feel free to go on ahead though.”[/color]

“This where we part ways then?”

[color=#38547C]“Yeah. I’m Keaton, by the way,”[/color] Keaton said. The girl had been nice, and she seemed like someone Keaton could see herself getting along with despite the entire situation and all.

“Jeira,” the girl said, holding out a hand. 

[color=#38547C]“Nice to meet you, Jeira,”[/color] Keaton said, shaking her hand with an amused smile. She hadn’t put the girl down to be a hand shaker. If anything, it was more likely that the girl was—

Keaton snapped her hand back, freezing, and Jeira’s smile inched wider.

“Say, Keaton, let’s be friends. You don’t know anyone else here, right? But I do. I’ll introduce you to them and everything. How about it?”

Keaton stared at her. Her powers—what were they? Mind reading? That was a rare one, apparently, but Keaton wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Oh, don’t answer me now. Sit on it. Give me an answer next time we meet,”  Jeira said, waving. “See you around, Keaton.”

[hr]
Keaton fiddled with the sleeve of her jacket as she walked into the cafeteria. She wasn’t hungry—far from it, in fact—but the last time she’d eaten was breakfast and she was due for a meal. Though she’d taken a bit in her room to change and shake off the ride, she was still a bit jumpy, and as soon as she was in the student-filled hall she grabbed a plate and filled it with some essentials before making for an edge seat. After all, the ride had reminded her of something very important: She was dealing with parahumans now, abnormal people, and there was no telling what their powers were. 

Sitting down, she picked at her food idly, then looked around. There were plenty of conversations being struck up around the place, and she was stuck here for the foreseeable future, so might as well try and talk to someone else. Second time’s the charm, right?