"Let's hope none of them get the bright idea to follow...and I thought I had problems." Simon muttered bitterly, the whole exchange having obviously taken it's toll on him despite the flippant persona he chose to display in that moment. Skylar swore the boy was born glib. "Speaking of problems..." she thought idly, trying to figure out her best approach on the subject of leaving when they had only just arrived. It had been childish to believe that this place nestled away from prying eyes would magically hold all the answers they sought, like they were in some Harry Potter novel and this was their version of Hogwarts. Perhaps their powers were just something that she'd never come to an understanding of; along with the human brain, quantum mechanics, Sudoku puzzles...but now wasn't exactly the ideal time for such contemplations.
Before she knew what they were doing, lost in the quagmire of her own racing thoughts, they were on the back lawn of Haven. The grass plot rolled outward toward a sparse tree line and was devoid of any meddlesome teens, giving time that molasses quality that only ever existed when you were more or less alone together. It suddenly occurred to her that in redirecting her brother from the train wreck of a scene out front, that she had not actually ever been told where their rooms were by the evasive Ismay. Skylar's pensive expression softened into a faint smile. Her brother obviously had known as much and lead them to the only place where they might find some privacy, at long last. His hand was warm and comforting on the small of her back until he abruptly abandoned his post beside her to uncharacteristically help a girl struggling to get out the back door and onto the terrace with an easel and paints. It was a polite gesture, one she hadn't thought he would be capable of with the current mood, but perhaps he wasn't half as implacable as she was at times. Skylar scowled, their isolated respite now intruded upon, though she supposed it wasn't the poor girl's fault. This was her home, not theirs.
By the time Simon had lopped back over to her, she had steeled herself for the unpleasant conversation that was likely to ensue. She motioned for him to follow her a little ways away from the painter toward a comfortable looking patch of grass, and settled down with her legs crossed so that she could pick at the turf instead of meeting his weighted gaze. "So...uh." She cleared her throat, coughing out a short bark of a laugh. "Hell of an introduction. This place is about as crazy as a bag full of cats." Skylar sighed, pulling up a long blade of grass and tearing it into sections. "Maybe I was wrong, for once, to...suggest we come here. They don't seem to have their shit together...could be dangerous too, to room with more than a few ticking time bombs." She glanced up at last, her dark brown eyes catching his own nervously. "I'd have to kill them all if you got hurt and murder is like, one of the only things not on my conscious at this point. I'd rather not add it to the list if I can help it."