Carter Denz's Story

Alexis Rose

I stood in the corner of a large room, looking out at all of the others. They were all people like me, people with abilities that no humans should have. Well, that's why they call us freaks, I guess.

Nervously, I tugged on the sleeves of my jacket, a little uncomfortable being close to a bunch of other people. I was just lucky none had gotten close enough to touch me, not that they'd want to get close if their abilities were anything like my own.
I avoided looking directly at anyone's eyes because it seemed that sometimes I could hear thoughts that way without having to touch them, and that just made things more difficult. Avoid physical touch, avoid the eyes. Yeah... Was this really Arzura? I'd thought that once I got here, I'd feel safe and wouldn't have to be so careful, but now that I'm here, surrounded by others like me, it just felt... Really uncomfortable to me.

I scanned the room again. It was large and elegant looking, with simple but nice furnishings... A nice chair here and there, a couch, a coffee table, all set in a simple arrangement along the walls, though only a few people were making use of them. Really not the kind of room a lower middle class kid was used to.

We were supposed to be welcomed by the owner, at least that's what that woman who found me staring at the place and led me here had told me, but he hadn't shown up at all yet. I was starting to wonder if this was all some kind of trap that had been set up for us. Some hoax to gather together all of the idiot freaks who would believe it. Yeah, they'd catch us all in one go, and then take us all to the government "camps" where you'd never be seen or heard from again. Arzura? A place where they were safe from the government tracers? It was almost laughable to think about. Almost.

I shook my head, clearing away my thoughts. Even if this was a trap, it's not like I could run away from it now. Besides, I was getting tired of running. Whatever happens, happens, I guess.

Ian Humphrey



Carter Denz

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Emilia discovered a new-found male to be approaching her, and she had almost rolled her eyes; not out of the inner immaturity of a child, but because she had to partake in conversation. He had created quite a scenic entrance, while being pushed and shoved by one of the many unknown employees, but Emilia had an idea that they were all just amid the ploy that was awaiting to take place. It was just a moment of waiting, for none could do any other than just that—except for talking, which Emilia was going to have to attend with now. She attempted to look oblivious to his arrival, where he had attempted to gesture a hand-shake, but clearly had forgotten any form of ability he had held, so then he went with a greeting with simplicity, and now Emilia was up to the task for talking. It was not a fear of speaking, the fear of saying the incorrect thing; or even just meeting someone, but it was rather a disliking, created by a childhood which was far from an utopia. Emilia gives the blame to her mother's death, having once been a child of liveliness, living in the flamboyant colors of bright pinks and neon oranges, along with frilly skirts and pigtails among her hair. After she had died, it left her in this lonesome opportunity, whether it be to rebel or shamble along with their lives, forgetting her presence and moving on. Along with attempting to forget her mother, she had left any forms of a decent personality at her old home. Depressed was just a minimal statement to what Emilia has conflicted herself with over the past many years.

"Hi," she said, glaring down at her feet, for the timid statement of a greeting was clearly not enough to suit his needs. Obviously, she would have to go into detail about her entire past, at least until someone or something were to interrupt such a tedious conversation; she believed it were to become tedious, unless she proved to be a bore for him. That was a skill Emilia exceeded in; losing people. It shan't be as bad as others make of it, complaining and whining, the others having discovered her to be lonely, drinking coffee alone, singing alone. It was all just her way of living, whether it be an oddity to another's eyes, she hadn't cared, at least, that is what she told herself. Friends weren't her thing, and hopefully, they never shall be, "Ah. Well. My name is Emilia. Yours is?"

Emilia wanted to palm her forehead, perhaps smack herself, yet, those were all the internal feelings of a girl—not a woman. The feelings of a girl who was entering her first grades of high-school, still attempting to fit in, right herself out, and actually become something decent to a hellish society. How she had spoken to him was honestly horrendous, for he must be questioning how wrong she is mentally. He could easily conclude she were not to be a girl to even be spoken to, and so, she was prepared to face the look of disgust that crossed his expression. I honestly wish I had brought some pen and paper. Then I could write all of these meaningless thoughts down. It was a hobby of Emilia to yell at her own self, for she discovered perfection to be something of her own nature. Perfectionism was just another trait that had created her to be the opposite of a goal she shall never succeed in her own lifetime; normalcy, for to achieve normalcy would be the very few steps of a descent into insanity.

A smile was plastered across her face. It was almost as if it was painted on and the owner of the mouth was so accustomed to it that she hardly realized it was there. Her legs were crossed, a short mini skirt pulled over her bare legs, and she leaned casually against the arm rest of the sofa, her fingers rhythmically tapping the side. To a stranger she appeared at ease, even bored. This was not the case.

Jessica was scared, more so than she had been when her little teenage temper tantrum occurred. Ever since junior high the blonde had gotten used to her life being fundamentally the same. Awaken, school, sleep, and repeat. Then the cycle had been thrown into turmoil. This room had not been foreseen in her carefully planned future. The blonde’s Barbie doll smile faltered for a moment as she thought about the events that had led her to this “school.” Who would have thought the girl who seemed to have it all would be crazy? Jessica could almost hear the gossip now. She’s a freak. She’s insane. I never liked her anyway. Perhaps it had been a good decision on her mother’s part to bring her here. Then again, her mother had only done such a thing to benefit herself. She could not help it if she happened to help others profit in the process.

The girl physically waved her hand, as if that would erase the thoughts from her mind. It was likely she would never see her “friends” again. She regained her fake smile, although it was slightly dimmed this time, before surveying her surroundings. Supposedly they were waiting for the headmaster to enter but he had yet to make his appearance known. Some of her fellow peers in the room were attempting to strike up conversations, while others appeared to prefer to bask in the silence. Still others were visibly scared and sulked in the corners. Jessica couldn’t help but notice that not many seemed to sit as she was doing. They did not see the need to attempt to look cool and composed. But Jessica had insight. She knew it was crucial how other’s viewed a person. She had always been one to worry how others thought of her. She couldn’t help it. To make matters worse, she always knew what people thought of her, no matter how hard she tried not to. She was unable to fool herself into believing that someone liked her when they didn’t.

A large bang of doors being slammed open cause several heads to swivel towards the noise, including Jessica’s. A male was being forcibly pushed into the room and making quite the scene. It felt odd for such a loud interruption to be taking place in the once quiet environment. If Jessica had been a more poetic type she might have said that it was a metaphor for her current situation in life; a crashing wave in a normally calm river when there had only ever been ripples before.

The commotion had stopped and the overall attention that had been diverted had now returned to its original unease. The boy hesitated before walking over to a girl who was blatantly separated from the others. Perhaps, Jessica thought to herself vaguely, I should follow in suit. It would be useful, after all, to gain acquaintances in this newfound world. That’s right. It’d be the same as before. She’d have her little posse again who only liked her because she was popular. It would end up the same cycle, the same repetition as before. Did she really want to live that way? Shut up. She told her conscious. She had to live that way. It’s only rational, she reasoned with herself. That’s how one survives in this world. I’m a freak. I don’t belong here. That’s why I need to survive. Jessica constantly reminded herself of this whenever her mind began to slip into the gullible and wishful way of thinking. It was foolish to believe that she would ever go back to the way she viewed the world before she had turned eight. She realized now the harsh reality that was deemed life.

Once again she scanned the room with a nonchalant glance. She selected her target with careful eyes that surveyed the whole room while still seeming like she had no care. She chose a male who was pacing back and forth murmuring inaudible ramblings. He was an odd one, or so it seemed from a glance. He certainly looked crazy the way he talked to himself, but was anyone in the room any saner then him? It didn’t matter anyway. She had already chosen him.

Jessica got up and dusted off her skirt though it was already clean. She made a show of walking deliberately towards the man, passing a female- no male who seemed to be in distress as tears were forming in the corner of his eyes. The blonde couldn’t blame him; this whole situation was definitely not to be taken lightly.

When she reached the pacing boy she ducked a little to get his attention which was currently directed at the ground. Though she deliberately averted her gaze from his own and avoided contact, she thought she did a relatively good job in catching his attention. Jessica straightened before speaking, “Hi,” Her voice betrayed her nervous composure by trembling. She mentally berated herself, pausing in order to conceal her true emotions. “I’m Jessica!”

Tucking a stray lock behind her ear, Jessica bit her lower lip. It was a nervous habit of hers but she was confident that in every other aspect she looked cheery and bubbly. She hadn’t been practicing for all these years in order for her to look as she felt. And right now? She felt scared out of her mind.

Alexis

I started to feel a little uncomfortable, like someone's eyes were on me, and then my plan of not interacting with anyone became kind of impossible when another girl started to approach me. Great... I tried to make myself look disinterested and made sure to look away from her, but that apparently didn't ward her off.

"Hey. I'm Pamella."

I held in a sigh as I glanced at the girl in front of me. Her eyes were the first thing I saw. For a second, I held my breath, and released it when nothing happened. Quickly, I cut my eyes away from hers, both relieved and a little disappointed that I hadn't heard anything. I looked at the girl's face again, not looking her in the eye, and gave a bit of my own nervous, semi-forced smile. If she made the effort to talk to me in this kind of situation, then I guess I could make the effort to reply...

"Alexis."

Yeah. Because it takes SO much effort to say my name. Not. Somehow I'd gotten separated from the others I'd been searching for this place with, and hadn't seen any of them yet since I'd gotten here. That, combined with the unfamiliar surroundings, the crowd of strangers, and my lack of information really didn't help my mood. I didn't feel like talking to anyone, but...

I shook my head and sighed, realizing that I probably wasn't giving off a very nice vibe right now. Especially with my curt tone. I pulled on the sleeves of my jacket before stuffing my hands down into my pockets, and ignored the little scene that played out as another guy entered the room. "Sorry," I said with a slight apologetic smile, "I'm Alexis. Alex or Lexi is fine, too."

I couldn't keep my eyes from wandering as I finished my last sentence, and witnessed what looked like a disagreement between two Asian guys. They weren't loud, so I didn't hear anything they said, but one looked pissed and the other appeared crushed. Curious, I was tempted to actually try listening in on their thoughts, but quickly discarded the idea with a shake of my head. Not happening. I didn't want to know, and they sure as hell wouldn't want some random person to know.

I brought my attention back to the girl in front of me. "You said your name's Pamella, right?"

Carter Denz

Carter looked the Emilia, then around the room again. He wasn’t talking to anyone specifically but if anyone wanted to answer he wouldn’t be opposed.

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The straws of minimal hope had been lost to the depths of her mind, for she had to include herself into speaking. Once more; a hobby she could not overcome with ease. He was a stranger, wanting conversation with her, the lonesome girl who has stuck herself in the corner for the purposes of having been avoided, a plan which had gone unsuccessful. Her eyes were over his shoulder, staring at the grand, mahogany doors, with golden handles and a lion bust intricately carved, sitting plainly next to it. Emilia had been tensing herself, awaiting for someone to come barreling through the doors, shouting and screaming, arming themselves with guns or their own fists. One might have a disadvantage when fighting government officials, for they had the likeliness of being trained in fighting, while they didn't—Emilia needed to calm herself. Her thoughts were a spiraling madness, induced by fear which she happened to hide with a mask, a mask of plainness and blandness, a face which she could mimic ever so easily.

"I am a Whisperer. I put thoughts into people's heads." He could be her friend, but she shan't accept that, couldn't accept happiness or laughter, or even friendship. Emilia had lived her life, shrouded with people converted into normalcy and all these beliefs and politics and faithful recommendations. She was not like them, for they hadn't the capability of such odd abilities. But, here she was, in a room full of them. Emilia could make friends, or she could just let someone peer through her mask, figure out what makes her tick, or just to take a glimpse of her past self; of what she had been before her mother had passed.

Their was a thing called emotions, which she ever so disliked, for if she were to prove herself to be happy and laughing, that would clearly be a disappointment to her own self, for she was being happy without her mother. Carter spoke again, a question, something that none could answer, but Emilia had an opinionated answer.

"I haven't an idea, but I have a rather quaint feeling about this area, whether it be a trap or just some disguised joke—it just doesn't seem right." Emilia stated blatantly, before settling herself in a chair, finding little comfort in the plush pillows that overcrowded the seat, and the cloth fabric which was clearly sewn improperly. The stitching was overlapping in some certain places, while other pieces of fabric hung out, swinging in any breath or breeze. For being such a formal place, they didn't have the greatest furniture.

I noted the shorter girl's movements, tone, expressions as she replied to everything I'd said, thinking her kind of amusing. She seems like someone I could possibly get along with.

”Yup, Pamella. Some call me Norrie, or Pam. I don't care which one, either is fine.”

I smiled, feeling a little bit more relaxed than I had earlier, "Norrie, then."

As she shifted her weight, Norrie asked, ”What do you think about all this?” And the relaxed feeling faded.

"I think it's strange, like maybe I shouldn't have come. Though, that's probably just my nerves talking." I sighed, taking a hand out of my pocket to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, "But really, I hate not knowing what's going on..." I almost laughed. I've always hated not knowing things, yet I refused to purposefully listen in on someone's thoughts. A clash of interests there, huh?

Just about that time, a door opened on the other end of the room, and for some reason, my attention was drawn to whoever was stepping through it. A man who appeared older than the rest of us, though I couldn't really place an age (maybe in his mid-thirties or something?), stepped through. His expression, posture, and well, everything about him appeared relaxed, unaffected by the prospect of walking into a room filled with a bunch of freaks. It kind of made me uneasy seeing just how perfectly composed he was. Then I noticed that I wasn't the only one who felt it, because the room was suddenly quiet.

He walked to the center of the far wall before stopping and glancing around the room at a leisurely pace. It was like he was making sure he made eye contact with every kid in the room, me included, because before I could look away, our eyes met. I went rigid, feeling a slight tingle at the base of my skull. My breath caught and my eyes widened. I'd heard thoughts, but had never slipped into someone's memories without touching them before, and the tingles were the sign that I was about to be swept up in this guy's memory lane... But nothing happened. As soon as his eyes moved on, away from mine, the tingles stopped, and I was beyond confused.

"Wha... What just happened?" I breathed out, more uncomfortable than when I first walked into this place. I took both hand out of my pockets and crossed my arms and picking at the fabric of my jacket.

When the man had done a full sweep of the room, a small but welcoming smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. When he spoke, his voice was smooth, fluctuating in a way that matched his relaxed appearance. "I'm sure you all have a lot of questions you'd like to ask, but let's try to make this part brief. I'm Dr. James Mason, and every one of you gathered here has obtained a special ability, though yours may be different from others."

That's comforting. I really wasn't sure what to think, but then again, the two I'd been traveling with had been different from me... I glanced at Pamella, wondering what she could do.

"To make things easy on you, I've sort of summed things up, dividing the abilities into five categories: Erasers, Illusionists, Manipulators, Whisperers, and Listeners. Just by the names, you're probably able to tell which group you belong to, am I right? Well, if not..." He started to pace, putting one arm behind his back and motioning with the other as he talked. "Erasers erase memories. Illusionists control the senses. Manipulators sense and manipulate the emotions. Whisperers can put thoughts or ideas into your head. Listeners can hear your thoughts and see memories."

He stopped pacing. "Like you, I have an ability. Unlike you, I know how to control and use it. Learning to control your abilities is one of the reasons your here, and to learn to control them, you'll have to train them." He paused before continuing, scanning the room again, "That means, if you want to control your abilities, you can't be afraid of them."

What was with this guy's short way of talking? It was a little bit annoying to me, but also somehow intimidating. I guess it was because of how nonchalant his voice was that it unnerved me. Did he think we were all idiots? My stomach flipped as he talked. How could we NOT be afraid of them?

He was silent for a moment, as if he were letting whatever he'd said sink in before continuing.

The boy did not answer right away. It was almost as if he were stalling, waiting for an interruption to occur. And so it did, coming in the form of a man who seemed calm and relaxed as he entered the room. He ambled into the crowd of freaks with a gait that spoke reassurance and gave a placating aura. He contrasted with the overall mood of the room which was one of apprehension and unease. His ease was superior to even the façade that Jessica had spent years fine tuning. It was as if this older man was oblivious and, rather than would not, could not see the fearful looks he was getting from his crowd.

But at the same time he was carrying the burden of a powerful responsibility that weighed down upon his shoulders. This was much like the others in the room, encumbered by the abilities that they all had. Rather than being “powers” they were more of curses put upon each of them. Contrary, however, to his younger peers, the man seemed to have not quite given up yet. The invisible weight was still upon his shoulders but it was as if he had learned to lift it in the proper way.

He gave off an intimidating feel the way a teacher would when berating a child. Instinctively the room seemed to cower before the power the man possessed as if they were being harshly excoriated simply by his presence. He felt familiar yet unknown. Intimate yet inscrutable. It was odd how enticing his presence was. How Jessica, if she let herself, could become relaxed. But she had to be alert. There was definitely an intimidating presence around him.

He met eyes with each and every one of the many people in the room and the tingling at the nape of her neck began, signaling that he was somehow using his powers on her. Jessica stiffened losing her cool composure in that terrifying moment. She took a sharp intake of a breath and the world seemed to spin at the same speed her mind was whirling with all the horrors he could be pressing upon her. But in a split second it was gone and he broke the contact with her widened orbs to move on to yet another pair of eyes.

Jessica let her breath out with a sigh and then took several deep inhales and exhales in order to steady her rapidly beating heart and wild pulse. She then attempted to look as if she had not been afflicted by the encounter of the eyes. It had been a fierce intense battle and she had lost, unable to shut him out or do much of anything.

The blonde finally had a description for the man. Queer. Strange. Intense. Three simple words that held neither a negative connotation, nor a positive one. Though the former two could be taken as an insult, Jessica simply intended to name the man’s main attributes that stood out to her at first glance.

After he had made sure that all attention was focused towards him he smiled. It was as smooth and easy as his entrance had been but it still seemed, not forced, but as if another was controlling his facial expressions. Jessica supposed this was his idea of a welcoming grin.

When he at last spoke, the girl found that the pitch made contact with her ears in a rather nice way, for his tone was soft spoken but powerful, managing to reach every ear in the room in which his audience stood in. It was loud enough to echo, Jessica noted, and quiet enough that he didn’t come off as overbearing.

“I'm sure you all have a lot of questions you'd like to ask, but let's try to make this part brief. I'm Dr. James Mason, and every one of you gathered here has obtained a special ability, though yours may be different from others. To make things easy on you, I've sort of summed things up, dividing the abilities into five categories: Erasers, Illusionists, Manipulators, Whisperers, and Listeners. Just by the names, you're probably able to tell which group you belong to, am I right? Well, if not...”

As he spoke, he began to pace gesturing slightly with one hand while putting the other behind his back, giving the appearance of a well-educated professor. Indeed the man was knowledgeable on the subject and Jessica couldn’t help wonder if he had studied it before or conducted experiments. It did seem odd that his title was that of a Doctor and that he knew so much about the subject. Putting these two pieces of evidence together, it seemed quite plausible that he had, perhaps in that past, been involved in studies connected to these special abilities.

“Erasers erase memories. Illusionists control the senses. Manipulators sense and manipulate the emotions. Whisperers can put thoughts or ideas into your head. Listeners can hear your thoughts and see memories.”

‘Listeners can hear your thoughts and see memories.’ So she was a Listener. She almost wanted to laugh for joy that she was not insane or to try the title aloud tasting it on her tongue. But she did not, for fear of breaking the intent silence that was no longer awkward but instead eager and curious.

“Like you, I have an ability. Unlike you, I know how to control and use it. Learning to control your abilities is one of the reasons your here, and to learn to control them, you'll have to train them. That means if you want to control your abilities, you can't be afraid of them.”

At the last sentence, Jessica audibly snorted. How was it possible to not live in fear? She would love to see the day when she wasn’t conscious of coming in physical contact with others, didn’t mind eye contact, and even embraced her power. Though she usually cleverly concealed her emotions, this time around she allowed the disbelief to show upon her face. And here she had actually begun to believe in, even respect this “Doctor.”

Ian


Carter

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Emilia shifted, the chair underneath her creaking with age, worn, although the exterior proved otherwise. She discovered Carter to have suddenly left without haste, and she had almost sighed with reassurance, if it weren't for the fact that she had the decency to not expose her conscience thoughts. Her thoughts were immersed in judgmental statements and rudeness. How peevish of her. Emilia stared to her right, clearly not wanting to occupy her time with the sudden arrival of a loud-talking doctor, claiming to be a man with the name of Mason, and an oration had followed. The ideal source of powers were to come form the knowledge of courage, rather than fear; it was all too obvious, but she hadn't the time to accept courage, for she was too busy fearing a reality which may overcome her senses. Punish her for being the unwary, ignorant fool she always liked to hide in the shadowed depths of her mind. Carter didn't seem very fearful, for he were to be the one wanting to leave, although having the persistence to force his way through a murmuring, uneasy crowd, to only get shoved back into the masses of people. She envied his courage, wishing that she shan't be the one to hide in a shell, cornering herself in the very own chair she sat among—scratchy and itchy, deprived of comfort and a mere torture to her skin. Perhaps the torture was necessary, for she were to be the one torturing others via verbal confrontation.

Enough with the low-life thoughts. Depression tends to overcome her at times where she happens to lose any interest in anything, such as a time of this man entering the room, the time where boys are not bothering her, and itchy chairs itch her no more. It is the blank state of mind, where she is able to brood and think, to remember how stupid and hilariously pitiful she is. Rather than continue her madness, she stands upright, although her posture quickly retreats to the slouching, arm-crossed position. A posture she tends to favor. The posture lacking confidence, while others show their pride, through grim faces and watchful eyes, they stand tall, they stand at a full height, and Emilia is the one who is surrounded by the giants with proper egos, while her own recedes to an improper demeanor she has forever gained. Due respect to the death of her mother, and the leaving of her childhood home; where most memories were born and flourished, until becoming a monochromatic loop of horror when things spiraled in a consecutive turmoil.

One normal being who weren't to spend their days, typing away at keys or scrawling their own thoughts in journals may call that losing their own mind, but she likes to call it the void of blankness. It has a better name— menacing and showing weakness in all of the sides, for losing their minds gains a respect from others, where others come to comfort you and say everything is alright. The void of blankness just allows one to get lost, such as Emilia has, and others cannot comfort the being. They watch them break apart, a shattering china vase or the mere silence of tears streaming down one's face. It is enough to know that the being has been broken, and cannot be repaired with tape nor love.

I really do wish I had brought my pen and paper.

Alexis

"Right. Well... Tell me, Dr. Mason. Why the hell is this place open? What good is it bringing you to get a whole bunch of kids in what might as well be a fucking concentration camp just so that we can learn to 'control' our abilities? Quite honestly, I've had enough of these stupid powers and I Just want to know where the hell the customer service desk is because I want to return this shit."

My eyes darted towards the boy who'd spoken, surprised and a bit unsure if it was very wise of him, but at the same time was relieved that he had said something. He'd broken the silence that, though only lasting for a second, had seemed to stretch on forever. Why would silence bother me though? I was usually extremely comfortable with silence. Well, maybe it was because of the tense atmosphere that had been forming around them and held an almost physical pressure. It seemed to lift, but my relief was short lived as the tension actually seemed to spike. My heart was pounding. But, wait... what good was it doing me to get excited? Stay calm. Stay calm and watch, and then I can come up with my best course of action. That's how I'd survived until now.

"I'll just see myself out."

I crossed my arms as the boy made for the door, and leaned back against the wall when he was forced back in by two guys. I watched as the boy made eye contact with Dr. Mason with a not-so-friendly expression. I scanned the room, looking for possible ways to escape if things went South, only finding the door Dr. Mason had come through and the one the boy had tried to leave through. That makes for a bit of a pinch. I shook my head to clear it before looking back at the man who I was seriously starting to question.

Dr. Mason ((3rd person objective POV))

He held eye contact with Carter, raising an eyebrow, but otherwise, the assertions didn't seem to phase him. "First off, I didn't make you come here, you searched for Arzura yourself," Dr. Mason gave a hard stare to the two men who had forced the boy back into the room, and they backed off immediately, as if they were children who had been caught doing something wrong, "so if you want to leave, then go ahead. I, myself, and no one in Arzura will force you to stay." He put more emphasis on "no one", his voice on that word colder than ice, and the two men flinched. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before crossing his arms and taking on a bored expression.

Dr. Mason's voice matched his expression with a bored tone as he met Carter's eyes again, yet his voice also took on a more serious note, though it was barely detectable. "To answer your questions... First," He uncrossed his arms, motioning around him, "this place is open because the government and its cronies can't find it," and he crossed his arms back. "Right now, it's the only place that Tracers can't get to. Also, it's the only place where it's safe to use and master your abilities without destroying the lives of the people around you. Second, as for what good it will bring me? The answer to that, is that I gain absolutely nothing. I mentioned before that I'm like all of you. I know what it's like to feel scared, lost, frustrated, and out of control. I know what can happen if you don't get control of your ability..." He trailed off as if remembering something before continuing.

Then, Dr. Mason, using the same words and mocking tone as Carter had, said, "And, quite honestly, whether you've had enough of these powers or not, they're yours for life, kid."

The bored tone returned, and he shrugged. "If without knowing anything about Arzura, you compare it to a concentration camp, then, please, I beg you, show yourself out. If you don't want to learn how to control your abilities... Or learn how to protect your mind from others... Or learn how to live a normal life by containing your abilities and not fearing them... And if you want to run from Tracers for the rest of your life, then feel free to do so. After all, it's your life. You leaving won't affect me at all."

Alexis
(OOC: alright, I'm just gonna post to get things moving a bit. I know it's not the best post, but, hey. catch up when you can)

After hearing the Mason guy respond, I knew I needed to stay. Everything he said dropped heavily onto my mind. Just I as was beginning to sink into my own thoughts, I was jolted back to reality by a now-familiar voice:

"Dr. Mason Sir, I-... I am not afraid of my gift but I want to stay here and learn!"

The spontaneously excited outburst caused all my negative thoughts, well, in fact all thoughts I had to disappear as I stared, shocked and dumbfounded at the girl whose company I'd come to enjoy. I watched Norrie fold her hands in front of her with a cough at the hanging silence.

"Sorry if I spoke out of turn, Sir."

My eyes went back to Mason. An amused and somewhat lopsided smile seemed to change this man's appearance, along with the feel he gave off. The small chuckle that escaped him changed the image even more. Where did the curt, bored and intimidating guy go?

Without thinking, I stepped closer to Norrie, placing my right hand onto her left shoulder, feeling a little confused. I must be overanalyzing him...

Dr. Mason shook his head and brought his hands up in a light shrug, that new appearance of his sticking. A fleeting thougt came to me that he might have multiple personalities... No... The same dangerous feeling was still there, muted, but present.

"Out of turn? I'm not that formal of a guy." His voice was pleasant compared to his previously dull and curt tone, causing me to tilt my head a bit at the change. "I'm glad you're eager to learn. Not fearing your power just means you're one step ahead. There's plenty more to take, yet."

The tension in the room has faded to a dull buzz rather than a crackling roar. Was this the same guy who infused the very tension he was now defusing?

I watched, kindly captivated by the strangeness of it all as Mason knitted his fingers together and stretched his arms out in front of him, knuckles cracking in the process. He looked around at everyone as he relaxed his hands into his pockets, his smile relaxing as well.

"Well, if you're staying, I guess that means I'll have to give you a room, huh?"

My hand slid down from Norrie's shoulder quickly, in a panic as I felt a prickle and a pull at the back of my mind. The feeling disappeared, and I sighed with relief. That was close. Way too close. I didn't want to get pulled into a tidal wave of memories right now. I didn't know if I pulled away fast enough to not listen in on my friend's thoughts. I could never notice if that particular link was made, but I would know soon enough. Either I'd hear her or I wouldn't, and I was hoping for the latter.

"Grab another person to room with, girls with girls, guys with guys, and I'll give you each a room key. For now, feel free to explore and hand out. The information about how this place works will be on your beds."

Without saying anything else, he left through the door he'd come in by. A few people at a time started to follow him out, and soon, everyone who stayed had a key. The place was amazing. Definitely not as strange as the room we'd been in only moments before, though it was still a little out of the ordinary from my point of view. Big and amazing. Honestly, I would probably need a map. "A map would be good..."

Some people decided to go exploring right off the bat, while others headed for their rooms on the second and third floors.