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[color=gray][sub][center][color=#77dd77][b]Location:[/b][/color] Teacher's Lounge -- Group Discussion[/center][/sub][/color]
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[indent][indent][color=gray]The heat was lifted from his skin having heard that one of the students thought his suggestion was a good idea. It was nice to be heard for once, but not just be heard but to be seen and known that you were right instead of holding it in and regretting it down the line. Although his suggestion was helpful the materials he carried in bag were not. After all what does a bug loving art kid bring to the table besides weird facts and a pair of tweezers most would just use to pluck their unruly hairs with? Nothing or well that’s what he thought at least. Emotions were obviously very high and the number of hormones and urge for both power and safety made it inevitable that personalities would clash, and ideas would turn to competition on who was the most correct. So, with the materials he had at hand he took a different approach, he did what he knew best, and he drew. 

There was a purpose to his drawing, it’s not like he was drawing nothing or just another insect. Rather he was being to sketch early blueprints of the school from memory. He couldn’t count how many times he traversed the school halls, how many twists and turns you had to take to reach your class across campus in under five minutes before the bell rang. The numerous levels and empty rooms that laid idle after everyone was gone and it was just the after-school programs. And so, as people argued and offered advice whether it was helpful or not, he constantly closed his eyes and squinted trying to remember every last detail that could possibly help aid in their escape. Eventually the black lines along the white canvas sprung to life and illustrated the architecture of the school or at least in the best imitation a senior high schooler could provide. Despite everything he could recall from the years he’s been there he knew he had to ask around for help. 

The athletic kids definitely would have more intimate knowledge of the track and field or the locker rooms he never set foot in. The only issue was slipping back into the lime light and commanding their attention once more. His realization soon began to trigger his social anxiety knowing his social battery had just recharged only to be depleted once more. Not having taken notice of the new arrivals he saw several more familiar and unfamiliar faces enter the fray, there was strength in numbers, right? Right? Who knows, maybe that was just made up dialogue saved for only horror movies with the same setting just as this. One of the students wondered if they were injured beyond psychologically and that made him chuckle. Another spoke in the same facet of Maslow’s hierarchical needs in regards to needing food, water and shelter only with the caveat of needing weapons structured from basic school supplies. 

It was ironically nice to see the comradery between strangers in the hallways come together and synergize for a means to escape. That girl Elliot was confident, knowledgeable, and a leader; all things he was not but admired in this sort of scenario and she was funny too which always helped. Mounting enough courage to speak again he rehearsed over and over in his head ensuring he wouldn’t fuck up and look like an idiot, but he needed a Segway into the conversation. God or whichever deity you believed in must have heard his prayers as Bill pressed pause on the pandemonium and backtracked to something much simpler, names. A perfect way to interject, of course after Fitz had gone and introduced herself it was only natural for him to go next. 

Clearing his throat, he spoke once more both clearly and concisely, [color=#77dd77]“My name is Alexander, but you can call me Xan for short.”[/color] Knowing full well there was another Alexander in their ranks and he always asked his teachers to call him Xan anyways. 

[color=#77dd77]“And I uh kind of have been drawing the layout of the whole school. After we find some weapons maybe we can escape onto the roof or underground. If there’s anything I left out, you can see for yourselves and I’ll draw it in”[/color] his heart was beating a mile a minute more so now than when he saw the living dead feasting in the halls. Hopefully they would heed his plan of action. 
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