Simon Smithson, a young man with short, dark hair, average blue eyes and dressed in a crisp black suit, glanced at each of the five teenagers who were dotted about the sitting area and studied them quickly yet efficiently. Despite his youthful appearance, he was a trained Government psychologist who had been assigned to talk, offer help to and study the teens carefully. For they were not ordinary youths but actually adolescents whose parents had been in a nuclear waste accident and whom had recently discovered that they had powers. Superpowers, in fact, that the government wanted to have on their side to fight against the steady rise on crime happening within Central City.

“So,” The young man began, breaking the awkward silent that had assumed after he had explained the reason for the teenagers being there. Currently, the group was located in the lounge on the first floor of R.H. Head Quarters. It was light and spacious, with sofas and seats situated next to a wall of windows that let in the morning sun. Further into the building, there was a kitchen and a dining room, though there was no walls to hide them from view. It was a classic example of open plan living, designed to make the room look a lot big. And indeed, it did this well.

“Now that you know why you're all here, how about we get to know each other a little better? So, lets go around the circle and say our name, our age and our superpower?”

The psychologist smiled, looking at the girl on his right. She sat alone in a single sofa chair, a flame of red head surrounded her head, naturally styled into wavy curls. She carried an air about her that seemed to say 'Keep away, or you'll get burned'. Next was a double chair sofa, where a boy and then a girl sat awkwardly next to one another. The boy, or rather young man, was dressed rather smartly for a student. He had carefully spiked hair and carried an obvious aura of confidence. The girl was dark haired, with piercing eyes surrounded by heavy black make-up. Her nature was more quiet than the first girl's or the young man's beside her. Next was a three seater sofa, though only two remained to sit on it. There was another red head, though she seemed far shyer and cared much less presence than the first. There was a free seat between her and the last boy, whom, like the girl, was a lot more likely to sink into the background than the spiky haired young man. That, and he had far lighter hair and darker skin.

“So, as an example, my name is Simon. I'm 29 years old and my power is looking into other people's minds.” He smiled brightly, flashing his pearly white teeth, to show that he was only pulling their leg. He then made a motion to the fiery red head beside him, as if passing an invisible torch.

“You next.”

Charlie sat in single sofa chair that, even though she regretted admitting it, was actually quite comfortable. The thought brought along a grimace, she didn't want to like it here she didn't want to be comfortable here because she wasn't staying. That much she knew they could try all they liked but she was absolutely opposed to the idea of staying in this temporary abode. The place was quite nice though with all the furnishings and the warm sun pouring through the window she sat in front of. The heat radiating from the sun shone through the window and onto her bare neck the warmth sending a lively feeling through her that seemed to bring her to life. She was still wearing the light blue tank top and short black shorts she had been wearing the night before when she had gotten kicked out of the ring. Her black tennis shoes were laced tightly, ready for some action the very moment a chance at escape presented itself, but she had pulled the pony-tail holder from her hair letting the fiery red ringlets fall around her face. The place was silent, a fact that she really disliked, however she would not break the silence for there was no need to conversate with these people. She didn't wish to get to know them because she wasn't going to stay here, kept in this place like a caged animal.

The man who had just explained to the group that they were to be the governments new crime-fighters spoke again now breaking the awkward silence that had formed. He proposed they play the name game a remark that got a barely audible snort from Charlie. What was this? Preschool. The man began to speak again this time providing an example of what they should do. Looking into other peoples minds, Charlie laughed lightly at the mans remark. But then he said she was next and the light laughing spirit was gone replaced with a rebellious angry teen who wanted nothing more but to escape the confinement of this place.

"My name is Charlie I'm 17 and my 'power'" she said mimicking the psychologist with her last word her voice changing from the kind note it had held with the first few words to a sarcastic anger as she continued "Is none of your fricken' business because I am not joining your stupid little 'justice league' and any attempt to make me do so will result in a slow and painful frying of your mind" she spat with a satisfied smile on her face. She was really rather proud of herself and hoped her threat toward the psychologist would indeed pan out the way she wanted it too, though she wasn't sure.

Marcus couldn't help but let his smile slip into a sardonic smirk as Smithson gave his all too friendly introduction. Personally he couldn't have imagined a more unoriginal or banal ice breaker, but begrudgingly had to admit the motley crew of misfits around him hardly warranted anything but the basics. If it weren't for the fact that he had been whisked away in the dead of night by badge flashing, no-nonsense government lapdogs (following the 'incident' wherein his powers had manifested) he could have been convinced that he had mistakenly wound up at a rehabilitation center for the socially impaired, rather than a secure and he imagined highly contentious government facility. It was at least physically comfortable, despite the awkwardness of those around him, and the furnishings indicated that whatever government agency was running this 'facility' had spared no expense in the accommodations of it's charges. So caught up was he in his own estimations of what the policy and public ramifications of what the government was doing here that he almost forgot that he was now a part of it. And as nice a front as the living area and this Smithson put on, it was difficult to say he was anything but a prisoner here. 'Or worse: a potential test subject' chimed the nagging voice in the back of his head.

It was true, he barely understood himself what had happened that night with his attackers, just that most or all of them had to be rushed for emergency medical care once he had . . . 'transformed'. The idea that his body might be fundamentally changing it's very makeup and structure without him even realizing or having any sort of control over it was certainly unnerving, especially when coupled with the fact that as long the government held his leash here he had no real legal status or potential recourse for whatever might go on here. 'Unless of course, I can use my time and the governments interest in my . . . powers to my own advantage.' He thought, his smirk widening into a not-quite-unnerving grin. He wasn't about to let anyone here in on what he was thinking, especially that government shrink. Thus, after Charlie was done with her none too subtle threat and her blatant defiance, he showed no change for having taking notice of it, smiling and introducing himself as if her were at a simple group meeting.

"Good day to you all, and my name is Marcus." he reclined languidly on the couch as he spoke, glancing about the circle to gauge reactions from the others, particularly Charlie. She seemed the most overt force of personality amongst them, and if her threat was an indication of her behavior patterns he imagined she wouldn't be terribly hard to manipulate, or at least get others on his side against her. He paused just a moment reflecting on what a shame her temperment considering her looks (Marcus had a weakness for redheads). "I'm 18 years old, and my power is . . . " he had to think about how best to characterize his own perceptions of what he had experienced, "Metamorphosis- I can alter my body mass according to my whims." He then turned to the younger woman sharing the couch with him expectantly, ready to let the others take their turn and take a full census of their personalities.

Chelsea glared at the psychologist hatefully, almost gagging at his blatant attempt to forge camaraderie. As they went around their little ‘share circle’, Chelsea found herself not really listening to the other kids introduce themselves, but rather thinking worriedly about what the twins would conjure up for breakfast if she wasn’t there to guide them towards normal foods. When she realized that her turn came, she sat forward and tried to resume her air of dissent that had dissipated at the fond thoughts of her whacky brothers and the bitter feeling of homesickness.

“I’m sorry. Did you say that you were a psychologist?”

She glanced around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes.

“I would have thought that a psychologist of all people would be the least likely to suffer from psychosis. I mean, really? Super powers? Grow the hell up, and check yourself into a hospital. You’re all just as bad,” she informed the other kids. “You guys think you have super powers? I think you need some serious medication. I won’t say that you’re normal kids, because you obviously have severe mental illnesses, but I guarantee that you’re all human.”

Venom dripped from her words as she got down to heart of the matter. “And you, Simon,” she nearly growled. “Just who the hell do you think you are, kidnapping me? You better believe my lawyer will hear about this. I don’t have any damn super powers, and I’m sure as hell going to get you locked up in a padded room for this insane little stunt. You and those supposed ‘government workers’ that broke into my house.”

She sat back, biting her lip to keep from losing her angry expression. She refused to cry here, surrounded by crazy people and the unsettling feeling that maybe, just maybe, they were telling the truth.

Sitting on the comfortable couch as the akward silence drew out, Fawna gave her surroundings a once over. It was more comfortable than anywhere she'd ever been before. She almost hoped she would be staying, but seeing as she had no idea what they were talking about with this whole 'super powers' thing and was pretty sure she didn't have any, Fawna was expecting to get the boot and have to return to her cousin's at any moment. She looked around at the other teens, noting that the girls out numbered the boys. Not that that seemed to matter. The other redheaded had enough presence to overwhelm the boys even if she was the only one here. Course, the spikey-haired boy was close, but he was a little more subdued... and a lot less angry.

Fawna spent most of the conversation-slash-yelling match trying to blend into the couch she was sitting on. She'd been dragged out of her cousin's house during one of her bouts of insomnia, so she was just in a tank, shorts, and a long, dark blue robe. She'd never been out of the house in less than a t-shirt and full length jeans since she was 10. At least she didn't have to worry about covering up like she did then.

As soon as the Charlie spoke, Fawna renewed her attempts to blend into the couch as her earlier predictions were proven right. Then the boy spoke, Marcus. He seemed very calm given the situation, which she admired. He had a smug, almost arrogant air about him, though. That alone scared her almost as much as the fireball next to him. Lastly, the girl before her spoke. Wait, no. The girl before her yelled and said several things that didn't really help the inferiority complex Fawna already had. But out of the three that had spoken, she seemed the least composed despite her vicious words. That in itself gave Fawna the strength to make more than a squeak when it came to be her turn, comforted by the idea that maybe she wasn't the only one completely out of her depth.

"M-My name is Fawna. Fawna McKenan. I'm 16," she paused for a moment, furrowing her brows, "and I don't know of any powers. I think you have the wrong girl." She mumbled the last bit, hoping they wouldn't understand, looking it over.

Shilohs eyes darted from person to person, his legs and arms begun to shake slightly and teeth chattering a little. He didn't like the arguing, and he had a slight migrate with a voice in his head saying 'let me out....let me out'. Though finally it was his turn, the girl Fawna already spoke, though he didn't know if the urging between the others where going to continue or if it would die out...or worst it would turn out into a fight. He wore a large Gray and red stripped sweater that was really big on him with the head hole of the sweater constantly falling off his shoulder, a pair of skinny black jeans and black and red checkered shoes. He tried his best to speak fluent English, also happy it was his second language.

"My name is Shiloh,"Shiloh said softly in his noticeable flamboyant French accent, though it wasn't to a point where he couldn't be understood,"I am 16 years old, I turned a few weeks ago." Shiloh gave a weak smile as he looked to his feet that pointed inward, and his hands that where sandwiched between his legs to keep his hands and legs from shaking, though he looked back at the man,"I guess the only way I could describe it is whenever someone tries to hurt me or i get anger,"Shiloh paused for a few seconds, looking down at his feet, then around the room, then at his lap,"Something protects me...something dangerous and monstrous."Shiloh looked off into space as though he was replaying something in his mind, though was brought back to reality quickly. Shiloh gave another weak smile that quickly died, and his eyes started to tear up and lips trembled,"When will I see my mamam and papa?" Shiloh stuttered over his words a little as he tried to hold back his tears. He always thought it would be fun to go on a sudden adventure, just not like this.

The first to introduce herself was Charlie and just like the fiery mane on the head, she was a hot headed little thing. She spoke in a brusque and at one point, smug manner and the smirk plastered across her face said it all. Not letting his cheerful, stereotypical councillor smile falter, he was half tempted to copy her arrogant smirk. Stupid girl. Did she really think the Government hadn’t been watching her little display? Of course Simon already new their powers, as well as their names, ages, backgrounds, and many other things. They probably knew what the teenagers had had for breakfast the morning before. This girl clearly thought she had come out on top, acting all tough and smiling that fat smirk… A small part of Simon wanted to reveal this information and watch it drop right off her face. But the most part of him knew better.

Marcus was next and like Charlie, he also showed a small hint of smugness, though his was more to do with self-confidence. Simon knew this kid; he was smart and his self-esteem was particularly high, or at least where his social skills and intellect lay. Despite being a well toned, handsome young man with a way of using words to get people to do what he wanted, he was a nerd at heart, or at least he had been. Simon liked this about him; the way he had stepped out of his stereotype was inspiring. However, the psychologist couldn’t help but wonder if his slightly inflated ego would be the downfall of him… Only time would tell.

Chelsea was next, and to add to her ebony-ivory hair-skin contrast, her piercing green eyes and her thick black make-up, she was the most surprising of the group. She began speaking normally, but then her pitch and volume increased until she was almost screaming at Simon and his still remaining smile, accusing everyone in the room besides herself that they were all mentally insane and needed professional help. The psychologist lost his act for only a moment to laugh, but he beat his chest with a fist and pretended that it was merely a tickling cough. The irony of her calling him mad when she was the one acting unstable was slightly comic, in a twisted way. The mention of lawyers made Simon want to roll his eyes. Really, these kids had no idea who they were dealing with, did they? Still, it couldn’t be helped, as the Government was shown as public friendly and slightly soft, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. Even with their political pampering, surely these kids knew that the Government owned every lawyer in town? This girl could throw threats about the room all she wanted, it would get her no where.

Fawna was by far the most ‘normal’ of the five. She was a little shy and soft spoken, she didn’t seem to have a particularly low or high self esteem and she didn’t seem too brooding over the fact she had been kidnapped and brought to a Government building outside of town and then told she was going to be like a superhero. Simon felt his smile grow warmer towards her and more genuine; it was always nice to have a ‘normal’ person around when you’re dealing with teenagers. Heck, Simon wasn’t used to them; he was used to dealing with criminal masterminds, psychopathic serial killers and evil dictators. Yet these kids seemed far more of a handful… He wanted to sigh, but didn’t, instead turning his attention to the last person.

Compared to Marcus, this boy was positively the opposite. With his soft spoken attitude, his exotic appearance and his small emotional outburst during his final questions, Simon felt his heart sink. This poor kid was clearly out of his element, and yet there was nothing he could do about it. Still, it was always best to reassure him, if only a little.

“Hey, hey, no worries, Shiloh. I know this is probably really scary for you right now, but I can assure you your parents are safe and are perfectly aware of your location and situation. I’m afraid you can’t visit them, nor them you just yet, but feel free to call them anytime you want.” He used his best soothing voice, his expression either compassionate or smiling softly to reassure the poor boy. Due to his powers that Simon had been briefed on, it was probably best not to approach him.

He turned to look back at the group and opened his mouth to say something else before the door to the lift opened and four people stepped out into the lounge. The first was a, African-American woman, a little short in stature but dressed in a crisp woman’s suit with a white blouse and pencil skirt, she emanated a sense of authority. After her was a tall boy, about 6’2; with long, toned limbs; smooth, pale skin and dark, messy hair. He was dressed in a black hoodie whose sleeves came just past his elbows, all rolled up and with no zipper or front pocket. It was tighter on his body than most hoodies, but still baggy enough to look casual. His jeans were Levi’s; skinny and a light grey with a pair of black leather boots on his feet. He wore a simple, silver chain around his neck and a silver stud in the shape of a swallow bird was in his left ear. However, the most outstanding feature was the fact that he was blind folded and handcuffed.

Two tall, bulky men dressed in crisp black suits and wearing shades and ear speakers each had a firm grip on either of his shoulders, guiding him carefully to stand before the group next to the woman. She took straight at Simon with her calculating gaze and spoke.

“Simon. This is Gabriel. We have retrieved him from the juvenile delinquent centre and he as agreed to co-operate.” She then turned to the bulky men and gave them a curt nod. Without a word they unhand cuffed the dark boy named Gabriel and removed his blindfold. It took him a few frowning, blinking moments before his eyes could adjust to the light. His eyes were grey and narrow, but they were perfect for his shape and angular face. He looked around the room at each and every person, staring a them each for at least a second before moving on. His gaze finally came to the woman at his side, who patted his shoulder and turned to walk away.

“This is your home now.” Was all she said before she promptly left the room, the two men following. There was silence as Gabriel turned back to everyone and stood there were a second, his hands resting on his long legs and his back straight, though his posture hardly seemed anything but emotionless, much like his facial expression. He blinked once, his gaze directly on Simon, who gave him his never-leaving smile and motioned a hand towards the space between Fawna and Shiloh.

“So, Gabriel, welcome. We were just introducing ourselves. All you have to do is say your name, age and power, so that we can have a better understand of each other, alright?”

Gabriel didn’t answer immediately, just let this gaze drop to the floor and his hands curl in the tiniest amount before flattening again and he looked up to everyone.

“My name is Gabriel Ellis.” His voice was, unsurprisingly, void of emotion, but still quite masculine and it resonated easily throughout the room. “I am 18 years old, 19 in the spring… And my power is…”

He hesitated, blinking before looking down again and then off to the bottom left. Simon waited patiently, though the tension during the short silence was quite thick. Gabriel’s hands twitched again and finally he looked up once more.

“I can move things without touching them. Like with my mind. Miss Gray said it was called telekinesis.” The ‘Miss Gray’ he spoke off was the short, dark skinned woman, though no one was to know that. He blinked again. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

After that, he moved towards the three seater sofa, glancing at Fawna as he passed. His eyes widened, his face suddenly shifting into an expression of surprise. He had hardly noticed it before, but now he was standing right next to her, she looked just like Kendal… But just as quickly as the surprise had been registered, it disappeared and became a mask once more.

“Excuse me.” He spoke to Fawna, then looking at Shiloh. He then turned and sat into his seat, his hands moving to his knees to rest and his back still staying straight. He didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable between them, but he knew from experience that his presence could sometimes spook people and they would naturally feel uncomfortable around him. He remained quiet as he looked up as he looked at Simon, seeing him as the most ’in-the-know’ figure in the room when it came to this whole superpowers business and therefore, the one he should be listening to if he wanted to know what it was he would be doing here.

Simon cleared his throat, before clapping his hands and rubbing them together. When Gabriel had arrived, there must have been a draft. It suddenly seemed a bit chilly in here.

“Alright, guys and girls, I guess you’ll be wanting to know your room numbers.”

Marcus listened intently as each one went about the circle, speaking their peace, displaying nothing more than a mild indifference on to the casual eye even as he began his silent, hidden appraisal of each one based on their reactions to Simon's query. For the most part he was somewhat disappointed not to be surprised by their reactions, though the goth styled girl, Chelsea, seemed to display a surprising amount of naiveté to their situation. Here she was accusing them all of psychosis and bandying about threats of lawsuits while they sat confined and supervised in a government facility. It was readily apparent to Marcus that whatever political status they had held on the outside was now meaningless, and their rights and privileges in this place existed as a courtesy of their captors. After all, what good was a phonecall to your local attorney at law when the ones holding you captive were the ones making the laws.

Still, he couldn't begrudge her or the others a certain amount of skepticism, even the particularly introverted Shiloh (someone he was almost willing to right off altogether, given his demeanor and reaction for his parents.) After all, he had barely discovered his own powers, and only knew of them as the result of great strain and stress placed on his subconscious. He certainly hadn't been able to access them yet consciously (though somewhat for lack of trying), and he supposed it was entirely possible that some of those here might not be aware of their powers; merely selected as part of a government survey as to whatever had inspired his own supernatural abilities and the others gathered here. Briefly he wondered whether he might not try to prove the reality of their situation by demonstrating his own powers as Chelsea ranted, but decided it was not worth risking failure should something be gained later by revealing them. Also it was a chance to gauge Smithson and how he would react to such a motley unorganized group.

This question was soon answered though, as Gabriel swept into the room accompanied by several handlers, striking a surprisingly relaxed appearance despite his obvious position beneath his captors. Marcus had already decided it would be in his best interest at present to generally ingratiate himself with the others here, starting with Simon, but had the distinct feeling that Gabriel would be a hard nut to crack.

~double post~

Fawna just sat on the couch, dumbstruck. They hadn't kicked her out, they'd offered her a room. She refrained from commenting on their obvious mistake and instead turned to the two boys on the same couch as her. They were the only two people beside the psychologist that didn't scare the living daylights out of her, despite the taller boy's escort in. While it was obvious why she was scared of the two girls, Fawna was scared of Marcus for an entirely different and very personal reason... He sounded like her father. She hadn't noticed until he'd spoken the second time around and granted, he was probably very different in a personal setting, but on the rare occasions when her and her father went out, he sounded exactly like Marcus. Smug and confident in himself. He'd always thought he'd had the right to do whatever he wanted.

Cutting off her train of thought that would probably make it even harder for her to interact with the boy, Fawna turned to the ones next to her. She didn't know what possessed her, but she smiled at the boy. The boy who'd walked in with the piercing eyes and was introduced with a record. She smiled without a second thought. It was a small, timid smile, but all of her smiles were. After she kept thinking, she had to look past him to the other boy, not wanting her smile to falter. They both felt different than the others. The smaller boy, Shilo, felt subdued, more like her. Gabriel felt more... real. Not trying to cover himself up or pull a wool over their eyes or condemning them because they were or weren't like him.

"My name's Fawna," she said quietly to Gabriel. She wondered why on earth she'd just repeated herself before remembering she had a perfectly good reason to say that. He had entered after everyone had made introductions. Fawna wasn't quiet sure what she should do, so she held out her hand timidly. She expected to be ignored or scoffed at due to her timid and nervous actions as that's what normally happened. "I hope we can get along, maybe even be friends," she heard herself saying to both of the boys. Wow, now she sounded like an automaton. Fawna restrained herself from cringing or taking back her hand as she nervously waited for a response.

Chelsea sat there, legitimately considering whether or not her three week self-defense class would be even remotely helpful in getting her out of here. She couldn’t believe that all of these kids (well, except for the girl named Fawna) actually thought that they had super powers. It was ridiculous… and strangely compelling. She bit her lip, nearly drawing blood. The kids were clearly no help. She had to play a different card.

Meeting Simon’s eyes, she flashed her most brilliant smile, allowing her eyes to soften in an expression of complete innocence. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” she said so sweetly she nearly gagged on the words. “That was out of line.”

She quickly adopted a heart-broken expression, grateful only now that she had taken that stupid summer acting class. “I’m just so worried about my little brothers… You have to understand that this is very scary for me, being in an unfamiliar place. All I really want is to go home.” Her expression quickly turned somber and ashen. “My little brother, Shane… if I’m not there to remind him to take his medication, he could die.” It was a slight exaggeration, considering that Shane’s ear infection was already gone, and even if it wasn’t, missing a dose would hardly be the death of him.

“Please let me go home, Sir,” she pleaded in her most convincing tone.

Marcus eyed Gabriel with an unabashed smirk as he settled down on the couch and Fawna introduced herself, but didn't spare him much more notice. He had to wonder exactly how much of his entrance had been show by whatever government agency was holding them here, and how much might be legitimate. After all, it didn't sound like he was particularly dangerous, what with his hesitation and the unsure manner in which he carried himself. Marcus had the distinct feeling of a great deal of conflict in Gabriel's mind, and that he was doing his best to suppress it for now. Which was all well and good to him, seeing as it gave him the better opportunity to establish himself. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriel's conflicted mind and wary eyes might be well deserved for some past trouble which had brought him here. Lord knew he hadn't been exactly 'himself' after his own powers had manifested. He would have to make it a priority to find out how far this Gabriel would be willing to go and how much he could be depended on when the chips were down, so to speak.

But now Chelsea was speaking again, to his right and he had to give real credit where credit was due. He leaned forward on the arm of the couch, his face lighting up as she spun her tale of woe to Simon. It was clear to him she was an accomplished liar, no matter how much of what she had said was the truth. Despite her admirable performance however it was clearly an act of some desperation. No one not very clearly in need of some psychiatric help could shift their emotions so suddenly, but she was playing her part far to well to be afflicted by true mental disorders. No, clearly she was trying to find some way out of this place, and while it wasn't particularly far sighted to try such a 'bleeding heart' routine, he had to give her credit for trying. Perhaps this was an opportunity to see how the others would play their hands.

"I'm sure Dr. Smithsons associates will see well to your brother's care." He said cutting into her conversation with Simon smiling graciously. He looked from Simon and then to Chelsea, his smile growing a bit less genuine, clearly communicating his own doubt for the truth behind her sob story. "That is assuming the government is providing anything close to what I and my family were promised." He turned his attention back pointedly to Simon. Despite discrediting her story, he didn't want to appear to be on anyone's side just yet, and he had his own skepticism about this organization keeping its word.

"I have to wonder though, you said earlier you don't believe that any of us have any powers, don't you?"

Chelsea allowed all the faux warmth to drain from her gaze, glaring icily at the boy who had introduced himself as Marcus. “No,” she answered simply. “I don’t believe it for a second.”

She swept her gaze over him, noting with disdain that he held himself in extremely high regards. He clearly thought he was the alpha dog among them, and she had to wonder how that warranted any amount of pride.

Leaning forward, close enough now that he could smell the last traces of her rose-based perfume, she whispered, “And unlike any of you, I plan on getting out of here. I don’t care if I have to jump out the window and break my legs to do it. I’m not going to be a prisoner.”

Moving closer still, her lips now mere inches from his ear, she breathed, “Oh, and wipe that smirk off of your face. Arrogance is extremely unattractive.”

Marcus couldn't help but smile all the more fiendishly as she moved in close, speaking her peace in a hushed tone. She was right about his arrogance, he knew it was his greatest weakness, but for all his pride and ability in estimating and manipulating others, he could never shake just how much fun it was to bate others into anger, pushing their buttons to get a rise out of them. "Funnily enough, I find arrogance rather becoming. Helps me maintain my figure." He replied, his words dripping with gilded sarcasm in a tone just loud enough for the others to hear. Then, as she grew still more perturbed he mimicked her more hushed tone, speaking plainly, as he locked eyes with her, his smile dimmed and his eyes flashing. "And that is one thing we surely have in common. I don't intend to spend the rest of my days as some government pet."

Then leaning back he shrugged, nonchalantly, "Well, I think the four thugs I put into the hospital would beg to differ." He said aloud, in response to her challenge about their presumed 'powers'. "And what's more, I hardly think Dr. Smithson's associates would go through so much trouble just to get six ordinary teenagers in for a group therapy session." That was his real point. He might not trust whatever agency they were in the charge of enough to treat him or any of the others fairly, but he did trust them to get their own information and intelligence right, if they were going to justify breaking the law and whatever costs it must be taking for them to run this place. 'Which begs the question of how exactly they knew to look for us . . . ' He wondered to himself, content to let that question go unanswered till he could at least attain a basic control over his own powers.

Deciding it might be worth a little back up in this situation he turned on the couch to face Gabriel and Fawna, "I believe you spoke briefly about a similar experience?" He questioned the new arrival, "My guess is that your powers manifested in much the same circumstance as my own. Some ordeal or situation of duress, something that really made you boil over . . . ?"

Gabriel turned towards the sound of a soft voice that spoke and made eye contact with the girl beside him. She introduced herself as Fawna; a lovely name which Gabriel thought described her well. It reminded him of a fawn, a young deer with big eyes and a shy, yet curious nature. His grey eyes stared at her more a moment, before his gaze dropped to the slender hand she offered and he took it in his own. His long fingers and large palm closed around her delicate hand gently, as if he was wary that he would hurt her if he held or shook it too hard.

“Fawna.” He repeated the name, as his smooth, masculine voice was tasting it on his tongue. His eyes lifted again, making contact with her own and he breathed out quietly. Her resemblance to Kendal really was something, perhaps even spooky.

“That’s a lovely name. “ He spoke his thoughts aloud without a hint of embarrassment or hidden meaning. His words rarely meant anything else than what they were. Lifting and lowering their shared grasp, Gabriel gave her hand a squeeze before letting go and bringing his hand back to rest on his knee.

“I knew a girl in school. Her name was Kendal. She looks just like you. She used to smile at me too.” As he finished his sentence, a small twitch plucked at the edges of his mouth and for a moment his emotionless mask was broken. His smile was small, just like hers, but not at all timid. In fact, it looked like he hadn’t smiled in a long while and was merely practising, but even so, it was genuine. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the flicker of emotion vanished, their almost romantic moment spoiled by a desperate plea from the other side of their circle. His expression became void once more.

“Now, Chelsea.” Simon spoke, voice laying it on thick like sickly sweet honey. The miniature debate between the girl in denial and the arrogant Marcus seemed to die down for a moment, though the psychologist reckoned it never would have blown out of hand anyway. He watched the pair, rubbing his hands together, still smiling like a foolish ape.

“I hasted to remind you that we are the Government. Your brothers are being cared for as we speak. They are not in care, but are being cared for.” He made a special note to emphasise these words, lest the girl assume the wrong thing and demand they be looked after through other means. “And our means to do so are perfectly ethical. They will still go to school and you may call them any time you like, but you cannot see them yet.”

“Also,” He pressed on, wanting to complete what he had to say before he was undoubtedly interrupted. “Just like we can give privileges… We can also take them away. I’m afraid your lawyers aren’t much you to you here, Chelsea. You are in our care now and will be assigned lawyers from the Government at our own whim.”

Simon let the words hang in the air, keeping steady eye contact with the adolescent female with thick eye make-up. He opened his mouth to clarify that this applied to all of the six teenagers but, of course, was cut across by Marcus, who had suddenly expressed an interest in Gabriel. The dark haired young man watched the other with a hard expression; there was nothing uncertain or wavering about the look he had in his eyes. Gabriel’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t like Marcus. The other guy thought he was all that, thought he could just probe Gabriel’s mind because he was from a delinquent centre and was therefore ‘stupid’. After all, he had ended up in there in the first place, right? Surely he must be lacking some common sense? No, Gabriel was all there and had experience with mind tricks. He got them everyday from psychologists. The only difference was, psychologists wanted to help him. To Gabriel, Marcus suddenly resembled a leech; he had no gain from questioning Gabriel unless it was personal. He was offering no aid, what-so-ever.

Well… Maybe he was jumping to conclusions a little bit. But even so, Gabriel could tell Marcus was arrogant. The stuff practically oozed from his pores and rolled off him in suffocation waves, for God’s sake. He was smart too, and knew what he was doing. Besides, Gabriel had no reason to tell him his personal circumstances. Especially when he kept using high-level vocabulary that practically flaunted his IQ. Speaking plain, pedestrian English didn’t kill your brain cells.

“Sorry.” He said simply, blinking. “Don’t remember saying anything about that.”

And with that said, he turned his head completely away from Marcus, conversation ended. He had turned to Shiloh, who seemed to be hunched over and sobbing. Gabriel felt a little twinge inside; even though he was a guy, Gabriel still felt bad for him. He was small and clearly out of his element. Not really knowing how to deal with people crying, so he did the best he could. Gently laying a hand on Shiloh’s shoulder, he watched him carefully and spoke softly to him.

“Hey… Are you alright?”

Silence fell over the group and Simon took this as his prime opportunity. Clapping his hands together, he rubbed them as if to warm them and scanned the group over before smiling as brightly as possible without flashing his teeth. His jaw was going to start aching soon, he was sure of it.

“Okay, so Gabriel, as the eldest, you are Room 1. Marcus, you are Room 2. Charlie, Room 3; Chelsea, 4; Shiloh, 5 and Fawna, 6. The Dormitories are on the 2nd Floor and as soon as you step out the lift on your right will be Room 3 and on your left will be Room 4. From there it is; second right is Room 2, second left is Room 5, third and final right is Room 1 and third and final left is Room 6. Happy hunting!”

Marcus sighed, disappointed that Gabriel wasn't interested in playing ball. It would have been very helpful to have someone on his side in convincing Chelsea, or in continuing to run interference on Simon, but Gabriel seemed too wrapped up in his own emotions for that kind of foresight. He was however in his own way entreating the others to his good graces, he even thought he heard him mention something to the younger girl on the couch about her looking like some other girl he'd cared for. His manner and preoccupation with his past life meant to Marcus that he was either a better liar than himself, or like the others failed to recognize the reality of the situation they were in. Anger, longing, disbelief, denial . . . All predictable responses and Marcus feared this was the sort of thing Simon and whoever else was administering this facility were counting on. Whether their intentions were benign (fat chance) or not, he was not about to play into the hands of his captors, and so far Marcus believed himself the only person who had sufficiently shaken Smithson to win back some of the initiative.

"I don't suppose you did." Marcus replied to Gabriel's back as he rose from the sofa, arching an eyebrow somewhat maliciously as he approached Shiloh. "But then that's not answering my question either." He said to himself, turning back to Chelsea and Smithson. Gabriel dodging the question and the handlers who had come in with him were enough to confirm his suspicions that Gabriel had had a similar ordeal to himself, but that seemed to be the only thing they had in common. Gabriel carried himself on edge, pointedly indifferent to others and yet alert and watchful, and Marcus pegged him as a troubled type, wondering if it was just a bad sort of school or actual time spent in juvie that had marked him in such a way.

Assuming then that he, Gabriel, Shiloh and Charlotte (being the ones who had copped to their powers) had had similar experiences in which they manifested, he turned his intentions back to Fawna and Chelsea. Fawna seemed stable enough, somewhat shy, but not the sort of person prone to situations of duress that might compare to his own. Chelsea however certainly seemed the type to lend herself to some circumstance or event sufficiently stressful to cause her powers to manifest. It was a stretch, but it begged the question of why she might so adamantly deny that she had any powers at all.

Smithson had been only too kind to confirm his own suspicions about their families and legal status. As long as they were here they would be kept on as short a leash as the government deemed them worthy of. That meant proving either loyalty, potential or both, and Marcus wasn't about to let them get a gauge of what he was worth in either category if he thought it would give him the upper hand. He only hoped that the others wouldn't be as quick to show their hands as they had been so far today. With a lull in the conversation, Smithson announced their room numbers and Marcus checked his watch nonchalantly. "Any rules we should be aware of regarding our stay here? Meals, curfew, visitors?" he asked, his tone beginning seriously, but quite facetious by the time he'd finished.