Greyson Reformatory

Lilly Chrome:

Cunning. It wasn't a particularly pleasant word; never had Lilly used it to describe a 'friend', (of sorts), before, but somehow it fit the other girl to be both friendly and cunning as a fox. Though, honestly, Lilly knew that making such early assumptions was fundamental to a fatal backstabbing; Willow could wake up to be a completely different person the next day - friendly, cunning and schizophrenic to boot. Well, for now she was simply cunning and kind, two qualities ideal for an ally, not that she would need one just yet...right? She hoped that was true anyway.

At the question that Willow suddenly asked, Lilly found herself frozen to the bed, knuckles as white as snow and wrapped tightly around one another, desperately clinging to something intangible and horribly out of her reach. She thought of home and her mother and father and the burning, burning house; the two men on the floor; red, red, red on the grass - horror; a knife; shadows! Stop it! Now was most certainly not the time; her roommate was merely asking for her lineage, not her backstory - not why, why she had been hurled into this new, frightening, exciting world.

Only a few tines had Lilly been asked that question, (seeing as it was often assumed upon witnessing exactly where she had once lived), and it was a severe blow to the heart; nonetheless, her answer would slip as easily as...as bloodied daggers through virgin throats... No! Inwardly scolding herself, she forced her mind elsewhere, to the hard, cold slap that was the truth and facts of life, untouched by sentiment. What did she usually answer to that question? Simple.

"Mutant," Lilly said; a forced uneasy smile, a dirty lie on her mouth, "Do you - and you? I mean, I - if you want to tell me, that is... You don't have to...I..."

Unlike the stony sensation she felt at the constant recollection of previous sins, this little white lie didn't push her towards guilt; it had been for self-protection, for a perfectly decent reason, hadn't it?

Pureblood or mutant. The lie was told without difficulty. Because how could she choose one, when beneath it all she really belonged to the blood of both?

It wasn't very long down the hallway - no, it wasn't very long at all - before Aston's eyes rested upon a handsome boy with blonde locks, and an almost model-esque girl - probably the one who'd caused the earlier commotion. A grin almost instantly set into Aston's lovely face. He recognized neither of them, and that meant he'd come across his first set of newbies for harassment. The circumstances were almost perfect! And he didn't even have to check that stupid list for the new names.

It would have been a hassle anyway.

Quickly kicking it into gear, Aston scampered his way over to the two, just a few long strides ahead of him, before the could get down to the stairs and it would have been more difficult for conversation. As he skirted around them, instantly dashing right into their immediate path so that he would be sure they would pay attention to him, he noticed clearly the girl's eyes on him, and just barely caught the comment from the boy slipping into the remnants of what must have been a conversation between just the two of them; "Y'know, you're kinda cute when you're pissed."

Aston almost snorted at the comment, but quickly tried to prevent the unattractive action from happening, resulting in a small huff from his nostrils instead and an odd turn to the corners of his mouth for just a moment.

"Aw, ain't it cute to see a couple of newbies flirting?" Aston teased, upping the octave in his voice slightly, letting it sound the least bit more like it would have belonged to a girl. He tried to tell himself that the idea of pretending like that was stupid, that despite his flawless femme fatale appearance, being a guy on top of that was just the icing on the cake. But at the same time, who could resist the idea of tricking someone? That priceless look on someone's face when they realize they've been duped the entire time? It was a chance only to be gotten from the newbies, after all, seeing as everyone else already knew the punchline to that joke. And he hadn't really gotten to try it out yet, had he?

His eyes shifted quickly to the girl, tilting his head over to one side cutely and tossing a few strands of that long blonde hair of his over his shoulder while he looked her up and down. She hardly seemed like a diva, or a "wild child" in the sense that Aston typically took advantage of. She seemed to have a harder core, a sense of power, rather than a heart for fashion and a purse full of makeup. No one that Aston could win anything really worth while off of, for sure, but probably had a great poker face. Maybe she'd wanna play anyway. Still, despite that natural beauty and the commotion she must have caused, she almost was uninteresting to Aston.

"I'm willing to bet it was you who made that commotion with the guards earlier, right?" He continued, giving off a coy smile and putting his hands on his hips. "Aren't you just a big trouble maker, already making a commotion on your first day!"

Shifting his weight and straightening his head, he eyes trailed over to the blonde-haired boy, a classically pretty young man, the kind that young girls picture, only this on was wearing lazy looking clothing choices rather than shirtless and on a white horse. Not really Aston's type, needless to say, but probably the type of guy that that girl Roxanna would have liked, no? Still, something seemed... fundamentally wrong with the kid. A result of some kind of particular mutation? Probably.

"And you're such the gentleman for helping her out, aintcha?" Aston continued, his assumptions continuing before pushing past his little comments at almost the drop of a hat (a drop of a tiara, maybe? Hell no, he'd never drop that thing!).

He extended both his hands outward towards them, leaning his body forward and outstretching his hands, one crossed over the other. His left hand was in front of the person to his right, and the likewise for the other hand. Now, not to get him wrong of course; physical contact was really not Aston's best subject, and he had a nasty habit of saying "don't touch me" to people, but it wasn't as if either person standing before him would be so welcome as to shake his hand for much longer than the time duration that they could handle, oh, say, light electrocution. A nasty trick, and not one he pulled often knowing that the other person may actually reach for his hand (or whatever he was offering), but he always tried to convince himself that it wasn't really hurting people. It was nowhere near bad enough to make someone cry, after all! Just a little.... playful shock is all. They probably would just get about a centimeter away, receive that little shock - the kind one got from too much static in the air - and stop before going any further.

"Well, as the - ah-hem - 'official' Greyson greeting committee, Welcome to hell! And if you're interested in gambling during meals you should definitely hit me up." He grinned, watching for the movements of the two. Before he uttered his next sentence however, he let his voice drop back to it's normal tone. Not that he had a particularly deep voice to begin with, but it wasn't one that easily belonged to a lovely young girl. He didn't mind of course. The specifics of his gender identity were stupid to dwell on. He was one damn beautiful guy, though, and that had a beauty in itself, didn't it? "Anyway, nice to meet you two, I'm Aston. What're your names~?"