[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjE1OC5hNTAwZjUuU21GemNHVnlJRkJvYjJWdWFYZywuMAAA/gonna-getha-personal-use.regular.png[/img] [hr][hr] [h3]Danger Room[/h3] 9:00 AM [hr][hr] The following days were fairly uneventful for the technopath. The morning after there had been some gathering she didn’t care to remember and a bunch of students whose faces she’d catalogued away in her list of ‘maybe find a use for this’. As far as she was concerned, she had no real reason to interact with any of them. Half were trouble and the other half were uncontrollable messes pretended to be functional. She at least was a fully functional technopath, even if she had no clear direction she wanted to go. As of yet her only ambition was growing stronger and remaining off the government's radar, along with mild amusements that fell within the traits she knew belonged previously to her personality. On the second day since the incident, Jasper was alone again. Heidi was sleeping and the technopath needed fresh air. In the earliest hours of the morning she had stood in the middle of the field with her eyes on the stars. Her reach wasn’t yet far enough to find a satellite without connection to their monitor systems but one day she would get there. One day she would be able to hold that power and that influence to achieve whatever it was she wanted. There was something but she hadn’t a clue what it was. Purposeless programming. In the middle of her musings she’d met a girl from the incident. The blonde was also out and about for one reason or another - she never asked - and the conversation they shared was short. Much of their time was spent simply watching the stars. Something though, was vaguely familiar and had Jasper questioning just who Cleo looked like. It was an old memory, one from far before her awakening, and was more difficult to access. She spent the remainder of time before her Danger Room session combing through every face she’d ever seen with a fine-tooth comb to find where she knew her face. Tuesday afternoon Jasper received a message calling her out to the Danger Room the following morning. It wasn’t an unexpected occurrence, though one that didn’t happen often. She was one of the kids no one expected to be a fighter, and rely almost entirely on her mutations. Petite; willowy with long legs. She was smaller than most of the fighters around, and her mutations were nearly entirely recon and support based. Her biggest combat applications were robots and electric shocks. Unfortunate. Wednesday morning Jasper dressed in a pair of knee length shorts and an athletic long sleeve. The grey fabric was lighter than her typical black and band T’s. The sleeves that wrapped around her arms were loose enough for good movement but tight enough not to get in the way. She’d bought enough of them to last at least the semester if things got rough. She disliked having to show skin, which was likely the reason why she never participated in girlish activities. Her peers seemed to enjoy the normalcy of fashion, boys and makeup. Jasper would likely never understand but the science behind it made sense. Emotions were complicated, and often needed to be placated. The technopath left once she was dressed, short socks in sneakers and nothing apart from a cellphone on her. She even left her favourite leather jacket behind in her room. It wouldn’t be long before she arrived, just barely on time to see who else had been called down along with her. [/center]