[center][sub][h3]Sierra Hilton[/h3][/sub][hr][/center]

Generally speaking, the day went by both incredibly fast, and incredibly slow.

All days went by slowly for her though, it seemed. 86,400 seconds in the day ticking away, oftentimes she spent almost as much time trying to think of new things to do as she spent doing them. On December 31st, a leap second was incorporated into the atomic clock- 86,401 seconds that day to allow the world to calibrate as days got progressively longer at the mind numbingly fast rate of about two thousandths of a second per century. On this day, Sierra woke and dressed five of herself figuring that any more would be somewhat overkill for the day ahead of her. She felt her breath catch as she stood in the mirror realizing all at once that this was not her home any longer. It hadn't been for a while, really. Her mother and her father resented her. It was understandable, and they did their best to never show it, but she could see it in their eyes and the way they spoke to one another. It was always a favor to take her for the weekend or so. She was not wanted here much longer.

She ate, and packed at the same time. Alternating who was doing what. Her mind was abuzz with activity despite the time of day. It was 6AM now, and her mother was asleep. Sierra would not wake her, she didn't want to see her mother fake a goodbye. She, working as a unit to pack her cars, a lifted 2011 Jeep Wrangler and a 2009 Ford Explorer. After sliding into her seats, two in the Jeep and three in the Ford, she was wordlessly on her way British Columbia.

Quebec, despite its reputation as a French speaking state, actually gets its name from Algonquin. The original territory being 'Kebec', simply meaning where the river narrows. She found herself reading a good deal about the island beforehand. How it had been a mansion, and then developed into a school. How governing agencies got involved, then there was the H.E.A.T. recruiter. She couldn't say no to that- she was young, and this was an opportunity to make things [i]better[/i] than they had been before. Better than she had it. Between her mother and her father, if it meant saving one more hyperhuman from that sort of environment... she didn't have to think long on it.

Quebec's state seal simply meant 'The Great Seal of Quebec". Most territories had a saying attributed to them. Her personal favorite was South Carolina's, which bore the Latin phrase "Dum spiro, spero,".

She breathed a shaky breath at that and diverted her eyes to the window. [i]While I breathe, I hope.[/i]

The trip from Montreal to the Isle was uneventful, but Sierra was never entirely bored. She read, and listened, and watched. Books, movies, chess, she found a way to keep herself occupied while she drove. She couldn't imagine how people did this normally- she would go insane if she had to do this regularly. When she finally arrived, therein came the first of the complications. Most people her age had family that were much more involved in their lives than her. The adults had their own means of arranging transportation, but she had neither. Catching the ferry was the last step between Pacific Royal and the civilian world. For her it was quite the obstacle.

Sierra did what she did best- divide and conquer. Two of her would have to remain here on the mainland. The drivers were the natural choice. While it would limit their travel distance away from the island, at the end of the day she was going to a super school. Likely full of hot heads and people eager to earn their stripes. Secure or not, if something were to happen, she wanted a fail-safe. Someone to keep her updated on the events in the outside world and to protect herself in the event her population on the island was...

Sierra reigned herself in. Too many Batman comics. She needed someone to keep an eye on her vehicles and keep her other endeavors running. That was all. The school was safe. [i]She[/i] would be okay. The goodbyes were non-existent. She didn't need to send off herself, and everyone knew their job well ahead of time. They had arranged lodging until they could find a more permanent place to live. The remaining dozen or so of her would now have to carry on the journey by boat.

When she finally arrived at the PRCU, Sierra did what she did best, which was divide and conquer. Four of her began the process of getting the keys to her dorm and unpacking while one her went to orientation. It came and went, with stragglers coming in here and there and scrambling to their seats. She did her best to focus on the speech. Power training, school, school teams for the yearly showboating starting with a hedge maze, [i]don't bang on campus, but you can do that in the woods as long as you're back by 8.[/i]

A small smile graced her features at that. Her phone dinged. A group chat of fourteen or so numbers- all her. It was a few new T shirt designs. A vibrant pink men's medium with the caption of "THE HYPE FACTOR" with a stylized DNA strange, and another dictating "SIGMA MALE" with the sigma symbol. A few other messages rolled in of approval, some voicing concern. She felt her mind buzz with directions from various versions of her across campus. Another text now. [i]'Got access to the industrial washing machine and some extra uniforms. A dozen right?'[/i] [i]'It's a start. We'll work on it more later.'[/i]

By the time she made it to her dorm, it was already unpacked and organized the way she would have wanted it to be. She was on team Firebird, and would be taking part in the trials. Camping on the southern plateau, Dundas Island. How quaint. The preparations were immediate- one would be dispatched for the trials. The remaining would stay on campus.

When she arrived, she wasn't particularly interested in the others. Yet. She was much more interested in how they would present themselves to one another. Instead she set up a crude tarp to conceal herself from immediate view and laid out five changes of clothing. Then she got to work.

As one, the newly christened copies brought down the tarp and began constructing the tent. She was like a machine- the tent, the most complex of all camping equipment, the bane of all dads everywhere, was up within a minute. It helped that it was designed to erect on its own, but four people securing it in position at once shortened the process that much more. Satisfied with her progress, Sierra nodded to the other three clones, who dispersed to the others, offering help with the securing process.

[i]"Need another set of hands?"

"I've got an extra hammer if you want help nailing it down."

"Ever been camping before?"[/i]

Three different approaches to three different people. Hopefully one of them would be either unfamiliar enough with camping or just generally friendly enough to accept conversation. Otherwise she'd simply send them off on that one other thing she had in mind- but she'd take care of that later if she could. The remaining Sierra moved forward and took a seat next to a tall, lanky young woman with a smattering of freckles who seemed nice, a pensive young man who seemed to have an affinity for a Stegosaurus plush, and young Afro-Canadian woman who seemed very curious about the young man's comment on burning things.

She briefly tossed around ideas of how to spark conversation, but the plush had her attention the most. Nobody asked anybody about their favorite dinosaur as an adult. Maybe she should start with that.

"Is Stegosaurus your favorite?" she offered, motioning to the plush. "There's more time between T. rex and Stegosaurus than there is between T. rex and us. Really threw me for a loop when I read that."