[center][h1][color=darkgreen][b]D O O M P A T R O L[/b][/color][/h1][/center][hr] [indent]The Future Foundation was home to many students. Children as young as ten were hosted at the Baxter Building, though the majority were teenagers by the time they were recruited and accepted. Brilliant young people with exceptional gifts of mind and imagination who the Foundation believed were the future of America and the world at large. Most of the students called the Baxter Building home, its extensive dorms currently housing nearly one hundred youths, with only a small handful deciding to commute daily. While most outsiders viewed the Foundation as a place for young scientists, having been featured in the news countless times in recent years for various technological and medical innovations, the truth of the matter was that students across the academic spectrum were admitted. The founders, doctors Franklin Storm and Niles Caulder, had spent the last two decades of the Foundation's existence eagerly seeking out freethinkers of all kinds. For every Victor Von Doom and Reed Richards, two of the most brilliant, scientific young minds to ever pass through the Baxter Building's doors, there was a Rita Farr or an Alicia Masters. Rita Farr had come to the Baxter Building four years ago at the age of fifteen after a video of her performing a one-woman play for her local school talent show went viral. Rita, born a metahuman with the natural ability to expand, shrink, and reshape her body, and ever the one to seek out the limelight, had decided to out her mutant nature in spectacular fashion by altering her physical appearance dramatically to play every role. Her high school was the center of controversy for days afterward as the young girl was expelled, protests forming around the country in solidarity with Rita. Niles Caulder, recognizing brilliance, recruited Rita to the Foundation shortly thereafter. In the years since, Rita's creativity was fostered and grown, and now the young woman boasted over eighty million subscribers on YouTube where her short skits and dramatic reenactments earned her countless praise. When she was twelve, Alicia Masters lost both her vision and her mother in an unfortunate accident. Her step-father, Phillip Masters, already a teacher at the Future Foundation, pushed for his step-daughter's admittance after the incident so he could keep a closer eye on her. Niles Caulder, seeing the potential in the young girl and understanding that adversity often inspires exceptionalism, agreed to accept her into the program. His theory was proven true as Alicia used art to cope with her blindness and, by the age of fourteen, made headlines for her realistic sculptures. Despite still being so young, she is currently heralded as one of the leaders of neo-realism, with her depiction of the Justice League freeing Earth from the enslavement of Starro being regarded as a modern masterpiece. Despite the Baxter Building housing academics of widely different fields, the students are not separated into scientific and artistic groups, even sharing certain courses. Steve Dayton, inventor and novelist, was one such professor at the Foundation responsible for teaching several of these joined classes. The epitome of the bumbling professor, Dayton was absentminded and timid with a penchant for allowing his students to act out. His classes, while certainly educational, were not what anyone would describe as 'orderly.' A fact that Julie Power had come to hate. The strawberry blonde fourteen-year-old sat at her desk, head buried in her notebook, furiously scribbling down notes from Professor Dayton's lecture. Her face was scrunched up in concentration as she fought to ignore the distracting sounds of her fellow students, as well as make sense of the ramblings her literature teacher espoused. Julie Power, and her older brother Alex, had come to the Future Foundation just eight months previously. Both had been accepted based on their academic merits and scientific minds, though neither had received the same recognition as their peers as of yet. Julie had found acclimating to the setting of the Baxter Building challenging. Intimidating, even. And the chaos of Professor Dayton's classes didn't help her in that regard. [sub][i]Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap.[/i][/sub] "Uh, so, class, if you could take out your tablets, and, uh, open the assignments I sent to you yesterday, um..." [sub][i]Tap tap. Tap. Tap.[/i][/sub] "Mister Dayton, I don't feel so well," a voice called from the back of the room. [sub][i]Tap. Tap tap. Tap.[/i][/sub] Julie's head snapped up and she shot a glare across the aisle at Jane Morris who was in the process of using her pencil as a drumstick. The older girl with her tangled black hair and permanent indifference was the bane of Julie's existence. Or so it had felt these last few months. Not only did they share this class, as well as several others, during which it seemed like Jane did her all to drive Julie mad, but the pair were roommates. Jane's hair wasn't the only thing messy about her, and it was all Julie could do to maintain her composure at times. [sub][i]Tap. Tap. Tap tap. Tap.[/i][/sub] Having grown up with three siblings, Julie had expected to be able to handle the noise. "Mister Dayton! I really don't feel good!" [sub][i]Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap tap.[/i][/sub] Her expectations had proven incorrect. "Can you stop, please?" The words softly passed from Julie's lips and were immediately drowned out. [sub][i]Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap. Tap.[/i][/sub] "Jane, will you quit it?" She said louder this time. "I can't hear the professor's lesson." Jane kept drumming her pencil against the table but turned to face her roommate. "What? Speak up, Lightspeed." Lightspeed. The nickname Jane and the other teens had taken to calling Julie due to how quickly the latter got her assignments finished. She knew it had begun in a teasing way, but truth be told Julie enjoyed the nickname. It made her feel special in a building full of exceptional people. Except for when Jane said it, then it felt dismissive in a way only she could achieve. Not that Julie felt her roommate was intending to be hurtful, it was just how naturally indifferent the dark-haired girl always sounded - like you didn't matter one way or the other. Julie repeated herself, voice raised slightly, "I can't hear the lesson. Can you stop tapping?" She could barely hear herself over the noise of the other two dozen students. "I... I don't... I feel..." The student from earlier was shouting now, making Julie cringe at the additional ruckus. She was sure it was Bentley Wittmann now. Nearly two years younger than her, Bentley was the definition of a child prodigy. He was also socially awkward and about as quiet as Julie on most days. She didn't know what, exactly, his issue was at the moment, but she wished he'd just return to his normally silent self. Jane chewed her bottom lip, regarding Julie for a moment, her pencil wavering an inch above the surface of her desk. Then, decision made, she let the pencil drop from between her fingers. Just as Julie was preparing to thank the other girl, the room exploded in a series of screams. "Professor!" "Oh my god!" "Oh, [i]shit[/i]!" The shouts and curses and screams were joined by the sound of vomiting. Julie spun around to see what had happened. [i]I guess he really wasn't feeling well,[/i] she thought, expecting to see a sickened Bentley heaving at his corner desk. The screaming continued, though. And Bentley was nowhere in sight. A group of five students was gathered around Bentley's desk. A pile of puke coated the spot where Bentley had been sitting just moments ago. The students' faces were a mask of disgust and confusion, and one was wiping away traces of vomit from the corner of his lips. One of them, a young girl who sat beside Bentley, and who had been screaming nonstop, collapsed out of her chair as she scrambled away. This gave Julie a better view of the commotion. She squinted, unsure of what she was seeing, and rose out of her seat to take a few steps closer. She could see now that it wasn't vomit coating Bentley's chair. It was goo. Or a puddle of some pinkish-white liquid slop. It looked thick and coagulated, with tiny strands hanging loosely over the seat's edge. And amidst the goopy pile was a t-shirt, shorts, and other clothing. [i]What...[/i] Professor Dayton eased past her now, gingerly nudging her to the side so he could walk through the gathered students. It had taken him a moment, even with the screaming, to stop his lecture and come forward. He cleared his throat as he neared the group. "What, uh, what seems to be the issue here?" He said in his typical wavering voice. The girl who had fallen out of her seat was crying hysterically now, the last of her screams fading away. The older boy who had thrown up spun around and retched again. "Professor, it's Bentley! He..." One of the other girls tried to explain but her voice trailed off as she watched her teacher absentmindedly reach into the goop and pluck out a pair of glasses. Then, she too vomited. "Hm. Curious." Dayton murmured, holding the glasses up towards his face. "Where, uh, did Bentley go?" The first girl answered him. "T-that... [i]is[/i]... Bentley," she managed to say between heavy sobs, "he... j-just... [i]melted[/i]!" A long moment passed before anyone spoke again, students and teacher alike processing that information, and Julie realized that for the first time in memory Professor Dayton's class was finally quiet. [/indent]