The young woman got up from her folding chair as she was approached by an attractive lady. She tried to put on a smile, but she was still shivering a little. "I am Dominique LaBlanche. I applied for a job here? This is the... euhm..." She rubbed her neck as she tried to recall the name's place. She opened her sport's bag and rummaged through. As she got grip of the folder she needed, she pulled it out. "Xavier's School of Gifted Youngsters. I applied here to deliver food from town over here and...", she began to mutter, but as she got to the next part, she looked at the woman in front of her. "...I was told you could help me with my 'Gift'."

She slid her hand back into the bag, stashing the folder in the pocket dimension she had in the baggage. She then pulled out a coat rack pole, on which half her attire is hanging on. It was a hassle, though, since the clothes hook were barely fitting in the bag, but she managed, holding a large pole with a mass of clothes in front of her. She wobbled on her feet due to the weight that was now on her arms, but she smiled at Catherine. "I can get out another one if you need proof...", she mumbled.

Looking into the bag would not work, though. There was always this foggy layer on the opening. It looked like a curtain of some sorts, preventing someone to look inside. She did not want to talk about her nightmares, though. She was aware that, if the fact was right that people here were something like herself, there would be people that could take these horrid haunters away, but she wanted to settle first. Not only that, but those nightmares were her deepest secret, much like how it feels like being in one of those bags she tend to make. And then, there was this whole ordeal on the news all the time, with 'mutants' that were attacking humans, and other mutants defending humans. 
She was not sure who was standing in front of her, to put it simple.

"So, about my job... Where do I have to sign in?", she asked, her heels beginning to do the little forward and backward motion she liked to do now and then. Rocking on the heels, she stashed her 'cloak rack' back in the bag.