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@SilverPaw What anime is the FC from if you don't mind me asking


The show's called Radiant. I don't watch it, but really like that girl's character design.
Caelum Harrington

“Better than nothing, I suppose,” he agreed with a stiff nod towards Dakota. He could have broken, cracked, or twisted something on top of everything. If that had happened, he would not even have had the option of contemplating escape.

When the jacket man had his breakdown, Caelum turned away with a grimace. Though unlike Vincent’s disdain, it was merely due to a discomfort of witnessing such a vulnerable moment. He did not try to help, mainly because the thought of doing so didn’t occur to him in the first place. He did check his phone for a signal, just in case, but as Dakota had said, there was none.

“A group hallucination?” he commented when Barney mentioned the possibility. The idea did get him thinking though – it wasn’t impossible, and actually less probable than this being real. Still very strange though. He watched horrified as the young man went and tried to jump into the sea, but was too paralyzed to move. Thankfully, he seemed to change his mind. “What–what were you thinking?” he asked, with an edge of panic to his voice. “Even if it’s a dream, dying could be dangerous,” Caelum said, shaken at what he perceived as a suicide attempt.

He brushed a hand through his hair, and exhaled tremulously, trying to calm himself. It wasn’t like him, trying to be helpful. This situation was messing him up, getting him to butt in other people’s business needlessly. He said nothing when Barney went towards the prison, choosing to stay where he was.

But then, the decision to move was made for him with the appearance of the humanoid though possibly not quite human guards. Caelum stared at them, bewildered, but immediately put up his hands, and followed obediently where they pointed.

He did his best not to look at the junkie-criminal who ran for it, hoping fervently the man’s idiotic behavior wouldn’t get the rest of them in trouble. He did not want to get beaten up or his legs broken, especially not on account of another’s insubordination. Who knew what these psycho guards were capable of doing to them? Though he did dread as to where they would be taken, and to whom, the fear of these psychos’ immediate retribution was greater.
Caelum Harrington

The guy with the phone answered with some enthusiasm, and Caelum was struck by how effortless such meaningless conversation with a stranger could be. Probably because he hadn’t gone and screwed up that initial good will people tended to have towards those they didn’t know yet. “Yes, very strange,” he replied quietly, with his mind half elsewhere. He didn’t know what else to say about the warm air – he honestly hadn’t noticed it, but didn’t want to kneel down beside the other student to check. It’d be too awkward for one, and he didn’t want to chance his clean trousers getting muddy, or something.

Just as he had that thought, the person who’d ruined his previous set of clothing – which he hadn’t even yet taken to the dry cleaners, damn him – appeared behind him. He turned towards her when she issued something between a greeting and a mousy squeak of fear. Caelum blinked, bewildered, but carefully returned the greeting with an, “Afternoon.” He had no idea why out of all times, the girl was afraid now, when she’d been so apathetic and calm earlier.

Perhaps, the reason for her fear was the man who appeared next. He was large, obviously on the run from something based on his threatening words. Whether he was just some crazed junky or a genuine criminal, Caelum couldn’t tell, but he was spooked in either case. He considered departing and calling the police, but then, what if the man prevented any witnesses from leaving? He didn’t look in the state to do so, given that he’d collapsed, but…Caelum shifted, uncomfortable and hesitant. He eyed the others, to see what they did, but whether they stayed because they’d taken him seriously or because they hadn’t done so at all, he couldn’t tell. So, he remained as well, throwing the occasional wary glance at the fallen man.

Several others arrived as well, though Caelum recognized only a couple. A teaching assistant from university, and the jacket-man he’d encountered earlier. He noticed that the youth had a jacket that looked exactly as his previous one did, though this one was clean. He had to have had two of the same model in his possession, because there was no way he’d gotten the one from before cleaned so quickly. Frowning, Caelum turned away from him, not keen to chance further interaction. It didn’t matter that he too could see the cracks and that he’d been worried for his sanity; they were two strangers who had already formed a mutual dislike for each other, and whatever else happened, that was unlikely to change.

Of course, he couldn’t have possibly known that ‘whatever else’ would just so happen to be a disaster. As the cracks begun widening with ominous creaking and snapping, Caelum had the brief thought that he’d foolishly tempted fate, and he would now pay for it. Though he turned to run away, a sudden fatigue overtook him. His mind was hazy, and his body would not obey him. Then, the world shifted, and he fell alongside the others.




When he came to, he was lying on his side, bruised, and night had fallen. Confused, he stood up, clutching at his sore ribs, looked around – and this was when the terror set in. The surroundings were vaguely reminiscent of earth; the docks, nearby buildings, and the cityscape were familiar if you squinted, but the absurdist details all over truly made it an alien sight. The sea was a writhing mass of iridescent tar, the distant buildings were crumbling and being sucked into vortexes of debris which then rushed back to another part of the city in arcs of unimaginable destruction – and perhaps re-construction, for all he knew.

He tore his gaze away from the scenery, because he had the feeling if he stood staring at it, his sanity might start to unravel – if it hadn’t already. Instead, he studied the large jail which stood where the university building should have been. Inexplicably there were also a cathedral and a courthouse among the other buildings on the prison yard.

Caelum didn’t know what to make of that, either, so examined the people who’d been transported here. All of them had gathered at the pier, so presumably those were the people who’d seen the cracks…But no, why was he thinking of this as if made sense, as if there was some logical sequence of events to follow? How could he possibly claim that this was real? It was much more likely that he was delusional, and had imagined this all…But why then, did it feel as real as anything else?

He shifted on his feet, noticing the pink splashed – but they disappeared as soon as he’d made them without consequence. Maybe he’d go like that too. Here one moment, gone the next. Maybe he was already gone, yet unaware of it. Locked up in some psych ward, mumbling incomprehensibly as he wandered the figments of his own imagination. Didn’t they say though that those delusional weren’t aware of it in the middle of an episode? If so, then what did his realization that this didn’t match the reality he knew mean?

Frustrated, Caelum scrubbed at his eyes. “This can’t be real,” he murmured, but he wasn’t convinced. Maybe that’s what he should be afraid of – that he was starting to have an inkling of belief? But then, he knew that if he doubted the existence of whatever this was, he wouldn’t nor couldn’t act. Just like two others had said, he wanted out of here, but it didn’t look like just thinking would get him anywhere.

When the guy who’d filmed the cracks asked if everyone was alright, Caelum couldn’t help but laugh, and it was a hysterical sound. “Okay?” he questioned, in disbelief. “Physically fine, I think, but otherwise…” he trailed off, shaking his head as he smiled wryly. He’d not been entirely truthful, as the ache in his side reminded him, but considering everything, that was decidedly inconsequential.
Caelum Harrington

Caelum ignored the lingering looks from the part of the student body occupying the cafeteria, and hurried outside. He avoided stepping on one or two cracks as he went – they were odd, and he couldn’t recall seeing such structural imperfections before, but he had greater things on his mind just then.

His foremost priority was getting back to his flat, change his clothes, and just…be alone for a while. Oh, and he supposed he’d have to pick up something to eat somewhere. His stomach was still twisting on itself, though he wasn’t sure the cramps were purely from the hunger; the shame, anger, and irritation likely had something to do with it too.

The flat was empty, as expected. Matt wouldn’t be coming over during lunch. Relieved, Caelum retreated into his bedroom, getting a change of clothes. He then flopped down onto the bed tiredly. Lying down, he dragged his phone out of a pocket, and checked for the nearest dry cleaner. Before he could properly map a path to the one he’d found, his phone vibrated. He carelessly tapped to unlock it. It was a message from his sister.

Dread pooling in his stomach, he opened it up. ‘Father’s upset,’ was all it said. Caelum exhaled harshly, thinking, when isn’t he?, but typed ‘What happened’ nonetheless. The reply was immediate, and short. ‘You.’ That stung, even though he had an inkling Vesper hadn’t meant it that way. Still, his immediate response was a sharp, bitter sense of rejection. Even Ves… He clenched his fists, and heaved himself into a sitting position.

Just in time too, as his phone vibrated once again, now because of a call. It was from his father. “Oh,” he uttered. He realized the meaning of his sister’s message just then – it’d been a warning. Choosing not to contemplate that, and accepted the call.

“Hello, Caelum.” The greeting was cool and calm, but with a hint of danger underlying it. Or maybe that was all in Caelum’s mind, because it’s not as if he were ever the endangered by the man. But his mouth was suddenly so dry, and his heart had started racing.
“Hello, father,” he tried to match the tone, but he was afraid some of his anxiety inadvertently leaked into his tone.

What followed was another uncomfortable lecture, though Caelum didn’t really follow it besides the occasional automatic and prompt reply of “Yes, father,” and “I understand,” and similar. When the call was ended, Caelum stared at the screen blankly. 9:08. That’s how long their talk had lasted, and Caelum barely remembered any of it. He had a general idea of what it’d been about, but none of the specifics.

As he sat there, dazed, the phone slipped from his loose grasp, and fell onto the floor. Slowly, he craned his head to look at it. He didn’t feel like doing anything, not even bending over to pick it up, but forced himself to move. The screen was broken. Of course.
A few more minutes passed as Caelum gathered his awareness, and he stood up slowly. He made himself return to classes, forgoing the dry cleaning and the lunch entirely. The classes were a welcome distraction, though his concentration was barely up to par. At some other time, these lessons would be engaging to him, but today…

At least he only had one more to go through for the day. It was just in line with what had happened so far, that Charlie intercepted him just then.

“I heard what you did to that poor girl today,” she looked up at him, expression scrunched up in angry confusion.

For one, Caelum resented the accusation. He had not done anything to her, he’d just lost his temper at her. Charlie's ambiguous wording certainly made him sound much more villainous. For another, her words reminded him eerily of what his father had told him – that he had heard of Caelum’s actions. He’d not thought to ask whom had told him, but he was curious now. To Charlie, though, all he said was, “So?”

“I thought–Last time, with me, I thought it was my fault. But it wasn’t; you’re just like that, aren’t you,” she stated.
Caelum stared at her blankly, and after an awkwardly long moment of silence, he asked, “What about it?”

Apparently, this frustrated Charlie. She scoffed sharply. “You–it’s people like you!” she cut herself off at the exclamation, recollecting herself. “Never mind,” she affected a thin veneer of neutrality, and turned around to leave. Not before muttering “Selfish scum,” though, just loud enough that she likely intended him to hear it.

Aware of the stare of a couple of students who’d likely seen the exchange, Caelum left for his last class, one that he thankfully didn’t share with Charlie.

It was over soon. Caelum was reminded that he’d not eaten much by the protest of his empty stomach, and once again stopped at a vending machine. It was the simplest option. He input the code and money for a croissant, and watched as it was slowly pushed, hinging just there…then it stopped, stuck.

“Oh, c’mon,” he complained, and pushed the machine. It knocked against the wall, and dislodged his item. As he bent down to retrieve it, however, he noticed a crack one the wall, at the corner of the vending machine. Shit. As he watched there paralyzed, thinking he’d damaged school property, the thing elongated. He blinked several times, but it continued spreading, all over the wall, to the floor, through the whole corridor, and even further. “What the fuck,” he swore quietly, astonished.

Mind boggling, croissant forgotten, he stood up and followed the phenomenon. He must be going crazy. Can lack of sleep do this?! He wondered, following the trail of broken surface. He was led to the pier looking out at the sea. There were several students there. The most notable one, however, seemed to be filming the cracks.

Caelum approached the young man, and asked quietly, “Are you filming the–this?” Rather than say anything outright about the unnatural sight, he simply scuffed the toe of his shoe along the floor, pointing at the congregation of fissures. If he wasn’t the only one who could see these…Well, it would be a relief, honestly, because so far, no one else had been paying them any attention at all.
BLAZE

Mission: Teacher's pet
Location: Lighthouse Island



Blaze rolled her eyes at the smartass teenager. “Yeah, yeah, you got away, ‘s why you’re here, huh.” Well, the conversation was going pretty much as she’d expected so far. The kids just saw them as a bunch of adults, not ones they particularly expected either, so of course they were trying to keep their cool.

“Who cares ‘bout those damn tinheads? I could beat ‘em, easy. So could lotsa villains, that’s why we’re ‘round. ‘Sides, we get paid to kick ass, what more do you want?” she shook her head dismissively. It was clear that for Blaze, the action and the money were the only perks one might need to know about.

When Stray took the time to finish his very long speech, she took the chance to sit down on top of one of the classroom’s tables. She tapped her fingers on a knee, half-listening to the diatribe about slippery slopes and what-not. When he was done, and the principal returned, she hopped down eagerly.

“Aaalright, let’s get out,” she cheered. “C’mon, you’ve gotta be bored outta your mind, yeah?” she questioned the adolescents. “Could do a game, you against us. With a handicap for us, duh. Or maybe you just wanna see who from you is best at what,” she shrugged.

When they arrived into the yard, she whistled, impressed at the equipment. It was really nice, and she was almost, almost jealous at all the kids who’d been trained by these folks and got to play on all of this. But she knew that the ‘controlled environment’ shtick woulda gotten in her way, too.

Not to mention she could try it out now – though she wouldn’t do it if no one else on her team would. It’d embarrass even her if she were the only one getting hyped. Though…if, and only if someone needed to make a show to convince the delinquent group to get into action, would she consider making that sacrifice. Given that super enthused Graham kid, though, she probably didn’t need to worry all that much.

Blaze stretched properly, then considered which of the many things she should try out. The bouncy castle was large, but that was kinda for kids, right? Well, since this was a school, technically none of this was intended for adults, except as a teaching implement. Yeah, she could use that as an excuse, teaching by example.

“Which one first, eeenie, meeny, miny, moe,” she sing-sung quietly, going through the options. At the end of the song, her finger pointed on an artificial climbing area. “Alright, who feels like a race to the top?” she asked, eyeing the quartet.

She wondered if the one with the gravity would float straight away to the top, or something – actually, she was counting on it. If Drew did that, she was sure the others would want to compete too. Though, if they ignored her entirely and did their own thing, she guessed it’d be fine too. As long as they didn’t just stand around silently doing nothing.
Caelum Harrington

Another class finished, several more to go. Though he didn’t show it on the outside, his thoughts were sluggish, and he’d have preferred to listen to the lectures with his eyes closed. He wouldn’t have fallen asleep anyway – he felt tired, but in that way where you knew that no matter what you tried, you wouldn’t get to sleep (and, well, the coffee had certainly also ensured that) – but his eyes were sore and itchy. His note-taking and participation had been done practically on auto-pilot.

Contrary to his expectations, people hadn’t nettled him too badly about his poor appearance. Sure, he had to pretend to care about the few glibly polite remarks, and fielded a handful of questions pertaining to his holiday activities, and the state of his health or well-being, but that’d been it. There might have been a few pointed glances, and perhaps some of the whispers pertained to him, but he knew how to ignore that sort of thing with dignity and grace.

Actually, though he looked like shit, the result was nearly better than that first time he’d tried to use makeup. It’d been the week before holidays, or so, and though he’d wish to claim otherwise, he’d been worse off then than now. (Because the apprehension of what would await him home had been more exhausting than the stress of being confronted by his father – perhaps because the latter also angered and thus energized him, perhaps because the relief of finally being done with the family drama for a while had been overwhelming.)

It’d been more embarrassing than he’d considered to buy what he’d needed, but the pretension of ‘business as usual’ had got him far. That, and the matter-of-fact clerk who frankly hadn’t a shit to give as to whom he’d been helping or why, as long as the person in question was polite and ended up making the purchase (which he’d both done). Learning how to apply those cosmetics via online clips had been nearly more effort than it’d been worth. But it had alleviated the immediate worry of being judged or scorned for such an obvious weakness.

He hadn’t thought that it’d be particularly noticeable, but Matt, at least, had known immediately. “Changing up your style, pretty boy?” he’d said in that scoffing, derisive tone he had whenever he wanted to criticize something. Caelum had sniped something back, and departed in a bad temper. He’d been tense at school, wary to receive more of the same. Thankfully, his classmates had, as per the usual, been too self-absorbed to notice or care.

Except for–Charlotte ‘call me Charlie’ Willems. Her comment had been perfectly innocuous, but he’d been too keyed up to respond positively. “Oh, hey, Harrington, right? Didn’t know you, you know” she’d gestured to his face, then concluded, “It suits you.” He’d stared at her coldly, making his distaste palpable as he looked her up and down, and replied, “Yes, I imagine it is preferable to being so easily mistaken for a gutter rat.” She’d been so–confused, then indignant and hurt, he’d had half a mind to apologize. (For the whole week. Of course, he hadn’t.)

That he was now thinking of such an insignificant past event surely showed better than anything how addle-headed he was being. (Having to suffer her in his field of vision during the class contributed to his little reminiscence.) Dispensing with the distraction, he left the class, ignoring how he’d scorned a person who might have been a potential ally; just another of his failures, really. And it’s not as if anyone (father, you mean) would be impressed if he’d made all buddy-buddy with someone so unremarkable.

With a sigh, he unlocked his phone to confirm where he was supposed to go short, and frowned at a message recently left to him by Matt.

‘Need to talk asap’ it said.

‘Can’t it wait till lunch?’ he typed back.

The reply was nearly instant. ‘No c’mon here now man,’ followed by a snapshot of one of the smaller seating areas.
At least it was relatively close to his next classroom. Though he’d likely still be late, which irked him. Nonetheless, he felt it was better to mitigate whatever the issue was now than deal with a pissy flatmate later on.

By the time he made it to the seating area in question, most of the students had dispersed to class. He saw Matt on one of the couches, and even from far away, he noted that he seemed tense, maybe even worried. Caelum greeted him with a nod, and sat withing reaching distance – which turned out to be a mistake when Matt suddenly grabbed his shoulder as he said, “Hey, man.”

He thought it was more of a desperate gesture rather than an aggressive one, but the grip was still unpleasantly firm, and given how easily he tended to bruise, he’d likely have a few marks to show for it later.

“Don’t drape over me,” he scolded, knocking Matt’s arm off.

“Fuck, fine,” he hissed, then muttered, “not even a greeting.” He braced himself, drawing his shoulders back and straightening up from his slouch. “Whatever, just…listen, did you snitch?” this was said furtively, but with an edge of accusation.

Caelum just blinked, rather confused. “About what, and to whom?”

For the first time since their conversation, Matt truly gazed at him, regarding him with serious scrutiny. Then, as if coming to conclusion, he breathed out long and hard, loosing some of that tension as he leaned comfortable back. “The landlord asked me about,” he mimed a smoking gesture.

“Why’d he care? You’re of age,” he replied evenly, without a hint of emphasis on the you. They both knew he himself wasn’t, and that it’d be a problem if someone accused him of underage smoking. So, why would– coming to a realization, he narrowed his eyes, and leaned closer to Matt. “Don’t tell me it’s…something else,” he had a firm suspicion as to what, but didn’t want to say it out loud, where it could be heard – thankfully, no one seemed to be close enough to listen in just then.

“Yeeah…just some pot,” he said this very quietly, and with a quietly resigned air.

Caelum had an urge to growl just then. “You brought that shit into the apartment, you fucking idiot?!” he whispered harshly, stooping to using swears when he was so enraged.

“I aired it out, he’s just a fucking scent hound, apparently,” he retorted, peeved.

Brushing a hand through his hair with a tsk, he said, “Good, at least he doesn’t have any evidence. Don’t do that anymore.” He caught Matt’s gaze firmly, holding it until he looked away. “I’d suggest quitting, generally, but I know not to ask too much from you,” he snarked.

Matt scoffed. “D’you have to be such a damn bastard about it? No, don’t even try to answer, I know you can’t live not being a little shit. And here I was about to ask for help,” he trailed off, obviously angry both at Caelum for being disagreeable and himself from having had expected otherwise.

Help? You have got to be joking,” he sneered. “I am not cleaning up after your messes. Be happy I’m willing to act ignorant about your confession.”

Matt glared at him heatedly. “Think you’re so much better, do you? You’re lucky I’m not willing to go down to bring down your small-time delinquent ass.”

Caelum quirked the side of his mouth in a smirk (a weak one for him, not that Matt would realize), as he had his last word, “I’d dearly like to see you try.”

His cohabitant, the one who’d got you hooked on nicotine and supplied your smokes, you fucking idiot, was shaking his head, then stood up, and stormed off with an uninspired “Whatever.”

Caelum watched him go, then leaned back into the couch, rubbing at his eyes. Class had surely started already, his stomach was twisting unpleasantly, and to reiterate, he’d just made an enemy out of the one person who actually has goddamn blackmail material on you. “Great…just great.”

He briefly groaned into his palms, then dragged all his fingers through his hair, mussing it up even further. He took a moment to genuinely consider whether he should even bother with his next class or not.
Caelum Harrington

Caelum jerked up suddenly, the transition from being asleep to panicked and alert so swift he truly considered his life to be in danger those first few seconds. Chest heaving with harsh breaths, he unclenched his hands from where they’d been gripping the bedding, and swept his fringe away from a damp forehead. The air grew stuffier with each exhalation, making him faintly queasy. He shambled out of bed to open the small window of his bedroom to let in some fresh air – such that it was. Checking the time on his phone, he raked a resigned hand through his hair; it was early, much, much too early.

He showered as quickly as possible, so as to not wake his flatmate. He’d rather not listen to Matt’s grumblings this early. He was exhausted, as if he’d not slept at all. The few hours he did get weren’t enough, and it showed. Caelum nearly winced at his pale, drawn face, bloodshot sclera, and the dark rings beneath his eyes. He looked so obviously unwell he was sure to get snide comments. Fuck, but he did not need that on top of everything else. For one, that dream was still lingering at the edges of his mind, promising to haunt him for the rest of the day.

The Dream. He really didn’t want to think about it, at least not before some coffee. Problem was, it didn’t take long before he was ready for the day and gulping down the nearly scalding liquid. It was still dark outside; it might be appropriate for his brooding mood, but made him all the more resentful. He could (should) be sleeping. After exhausting the worst of his scornful energy by scorching innocuous objects with his glare, Caelum retreated back to his room.

First on his agenda was filling out the dream diary – it felt plain stupid, but it was a recommendation that’d helped him take it off his mind the first time he’d had the damned dream. It was just so different from any of his others, but no matter how much he contemplated why they’d begun, which events may have led to each reiteration, or why they’d stayed exactly the same – until now – Caelum hadn’t been able to puzzle out anything specific.

Tonight, the beaked creature spoke of attaining new responsibilities – as if he didn’t have enough of those already – and having to fight. Was that about his family? Didn’t the goblin man know how much he’d struggled already to get where he was? What fucking else was he supposed to do?! He’d been facing reality for a while, now. As for his worth, well.

His pen screeched along the pages as he brutally noted down the latest nightly development. He glared down at his work, frustrated and dissatisfied, then fiercely blotted out all he’d written about his silly little dreams in quick, diagonal slashes. It took a good while to go through all the material, but by the end of it, he felt…he wasn’t sure if it could be described as ‘better’, since it left him oddly numb and hollow. He’d been intending to rip out the pages, and throw it all away, but he just didn’t care anymore.

Stupid dream meanings. It was an uncharitable thought but lacked any force. Though the following Why are you wasting your time on something so worthless? was such a lifelike impression of something his father might say, it disgusted him enough to get right into gear. He booted up his laptop, and began the grueling process of checking over his uni work, readings, notes, etc., editing, learning, or adding to the various coursework required.

Then there was the social media, wherein he mostly saw posts by his former associates proclaiming their recent enjoyment of the holidays and their enviable new energy levels. Smug bastards. Some guy went on a date, a (former) friend raved about her curriculum, yada yada yada, all those pictures of all their joy and success, it made him sick. Sometimes, he wondered why he bothered at all.

But then, the answer, as it tended to be, was his father dearest. ‘You must build up your image’ and ‘How are those admission essays going’ and ‘No new associates at all? Surely, then, you must have realized what a barren path you’ve chosen to tread’ and ‘I suspect you can still recover from this minor detour’ and ‘If you would only try hard enough’. It was an endless barrage upon his conscience, and even when he was alone, Caelum couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he was committing a terrible mistake, or perhaps, that he himself was one.

Such were the types of thoughts he had to do his best to suppress as he finished his school work. Of course, following that, he still had work set to him by his father, i.e. preparing for a transferal next school year while planning how to take advantage of any and all possible opportunities this year, building up his stock portfolio, and so on and so forth. By the time he was finishing up, Matt was waking up – it was the sound of running water that had Caelum quickly pack, actually.

He left the flat before there’d be any chance for his cohabitant to accost him with idle chit-chat. It meant he’d had no chance to replenish his smokes – which he’d really begun to miss after a few days without – or get his breakfast yet, but he’d take that over the prospect of conversation right now. Though he’d be a bit early either way, he hurried to get to university.
BLAZE

Mission: Teacher's pet
Location: Lighthouse Island
Interactions: @Crusader Lord



Blaze nodded at Principal Lee’s words – in acknowledgment, not necessarily agreement. She considered the kid’s abilities; with their set, she could see how they’d prove troublesome. Of course, a lot depended on the extent of their power and finesse. But unlike Strain had worried, she wasn’t going to underestimate them just because they were younger. She knew that’s how she used to get away with a lot of shit, after all.

She trekked along the principal, and raised both brows at the classroom the delinquent quartet was staying silently in. “I thought they weren’t supposed to be locked up?” she asked the principal rhetorically, with an edge of sarcasm. She knew it was not a bad idea to keep them segregated like this, or else who knew what they’d get up to. She did wonder though if they, as the supervisory heroes, could let them out a bit for some fun – unfortunately, the principal left before Blaze could ask her about it. Well, that just meant asking for forgiveness later if they did something they weren’t supposed to.

When the one and only kid spoke, she scoffed. “What’s lame’s your dead-fish impression,” she retorted. Blaze didn’t get chance to say anymore as the old man began his old man speech. She blinked at him slowly, wondering which book he was pulling those things from. He was going for the shock value, that much was obvious, but weren’t his words standard fare when it came to lecturing? She at least had heard plenty similar before, and it’d never stopped her antics. She doubted these kids would be affected either, but then again, maybe they just weren’t as tough? She glanced back at the teenagers to see how they were taking it.

She was momentarily surprised out of her observation by the muscly blonde. He, out of all the people, was the one to start the line of questioning of how much fun the kids had had with their crime. Given his introduction, this was just about the last thing she’d expected of him. So, she quirked a teasing smile at him, and commented, “Ho? Tryin’a get some free samples, hm?” With a small chuckle, she shook her head, and turned back to their charges. “But, yeah, what he said. Did’ya even get to do much before they grabbed ya?”
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