Mason Crawford
"Hold still," said the girl who approached him. She was a short, feisty type; clearly inconvenience by Mason's request. He didn't say anything, however, as he watched the girl take hold of his cigarette and begin to fondle with its tip. Something about her seemed to shift in that moment, but Mason couldn't quite put his finger on it. Had he had the time, he would have attributed it to a trick of the light, but within the next second his cigarette caught light between the girl's fingertips. He pulled it away sharply, examining the warm orange ember in a fashion that was equal parts impressed and bemused.
"
Thanks," he said, trying not to sound sharp as he put the cigarette between his lips and took a slow and much-needed drag. There was really no need to show-off when all he had asked for was a lighter, and now the way she distanced herself from he group without a second word rubbed him the wrong way. If she was going to make such a big deal about his simple request, he would rather she hadn't bothered at all.
And it wouldn't seem to have hurt, either, as two more of the group had also approached him, their lighters clutched between their fingers as they watched the shady-looking girl's display. One was the equally beautiful and intimidating snake-woman, the other was a pretty little thing with flowing brunette hair. The snake-woman had said something to one of the other group members, though Mason had not caught the details. The target of whatever she'd said replied in a curt and sassy manner, barely looking up from his book.
Jeez..., Mason thought to himself, as the snake-woman turned her attention to the girl who had lit his cigarette.
We're getting off to a great start... She seemed to be mocking the girl, but Mason got the feeling that it was all in jest. He smirked as he drew in a breath of smoke; it seemed they shared the same sense of humour.
Fortunately, for the sake of the group's moreso than Mason's, the other girl seemed less abrasive. She spoke politely and introduced herself as Erica. Mason found himself fixated on her, there was something about the girl's prettiness that just didn't seem... Natural. But simultaneously, it felt organic... There was no plastic surgery here, he noted. Or if there was, the surgeon had done a pretty fantastic job and probably charged a handsome fee.
He snapped his attention back to the conversation. "
Nice to meet you, Erica," he said warmly. Whenever he spoke English, he found that his accent became far more polished and enunciated than when he had lived in the country. It seemed that living in Germany had neutralised his accent somewhat to something that was stereotypically British. He took a drag of his cigarette. "
I'm Mason."
As he spoke, he noticed the arrival of two more newcomers. They couldn't have looked any different; one was very short and skinny, with tight black clothes and emo-style hair pierced with strikes of pink, his pale face peering out from beneath his bangs. The other, in contrast, was black, taller even than Mason, and stocky in a way only a hard worker can be. The latter addressed the group:
"So, how's everyone going?" he said in some sort of ethnic-American accent that Mason couldn't identify. Regardless, the guy's confidence and willingness to communicate was refreshing, and Mason smiled at him.
"
Not bad, not bad." Mason lied convincingly. "
And to whom do we owe the pleasure?" he asked, before looking around him at the rest of the group. "
In fact, that goes for everyone." he laughed, a little nervous as he felt their eyes upon him. "
I imagine we can expect another awfully long drive to the institute. It's probably best that we get to know each other." he said. He felt as though he was commanding attention, but others might have simply scoffed at him and returned to whatever they were doing. Regardless, Mason took one long, final drag of his cigarette and savoured it for a moment, before breathing the fumes out into the air before him. He tossed the butt to the floor, and crushed it into the earth with his black Converse.
