Open Black Moon Academy - School for the Gifted

Well, her plan had worked - kind of.

Eris couldn't help but stare with open interest as the thing - the Shade, given that's what Nick had called it - slammed back into him, leaving barely a trace of its presence. It was like it was part of him. He had called it forth, and now it sank back into him... what did it feel like, to have something like that, dark fire seething at your heart and bones? Even if he wasn't too enthusiastic about being roommates, she just knew this would be a great idea. And maybe the others would be just as interesting, even if they didn't feel somehow connected to her. She didn't spare the other rings more than a glance, though - because Nick looked a lot less pale now, and she couldn't feel his panic at all. All she had done was just... wiped out.

Was that because of the Shade? Did having it merge with him protect Nick from her? That wasn't fair. She couldn't fight off the Shade, but if he was immune now, she couldn't do anything to him either....

Maybe the Academy would teach her something to get around that, but right now, she was kind of out of ideas. Frowning thoughtfully, she shifted her weight. He'd been just standing there, though taking back the Shade seemed like it hurt a little. And she'd been running around and focusing a lot....

"Doesn't seem like it'll do any good to me," she said slowly. "It's hardly level if I can't do much to you, since you seem so frightened right now." And just to make sure she was right and he was immune, she struck out in the same way she had before - trying to force as much dread onto him as possible -

And then one of the other ring's lights went out, and she felt so much fear that she stopped, looking over at the one that had gone dark. That had been Darth Vader's ring, right? And everyone was suddenly so afraid, but why.... Wait. His suit. Everyone nearby had gotten anxious just looking at him, and there was an acrid smell now, like... gas? Poisonous gas, maybe? Not that she had ever smelled poisonous gas but there was a good chance that Darth Vader was no longer in his suit. That... wasn't a good thing, no matter how great it felt, those little spikes of tension and fear all around them.

"So much for three days," she murmured, trying to mask her own sudden fear. Were they all going to die right now? It seemed like such a stupid question, but... just how dangerous was Vidal? She had thought her powers were amazing, but they weren't any good in a fight, let alone in stopping poison. "Why don't we just have a nice chat instead, Nick? Get to know each other and all that, so you can tell me all about your friend. You know, before we die horribly."

Prior to being interrupted, Vidal had been walking around the outside of the arena in circles. His footprints wearing a hole in whatever substance the floor was made of as every step left behind an acidic imprint. Reaching his left arm out- the one still dripping with caustic vital fluids, he brushed his hand along the outside walls of the ring. Smearing his blood across it. As it dissolved through the material of the arena, it sizzled, letting off more toxic fumes into the air. Assuming the ring was perfectly square? He'd now covered three of the four sides.

As he moved to smear his blood over the last one, and turn the battlefield into a contaminated cage to trap his roommate- he heard the click. It was unmistakable, and familiar. He turned his head slowly after stopping in his tracks. Thoughts raced through his head all at once. He'd been told to fight, and dressed in rubber, that would have been impossible for his sparring partner. Not to mention the fact that if she was using her powers- as the others were- using his own was all but required just to keep the same playing field. He could have argued that point. But bargaining down the barrel of a gun was a bad position. And besides, he had no qualms with putting his suit back on now.

"The second option, sir." Grabbing hold of his bleeding wrist with his right hand, he squeezed hard, trying to staunch and clot the bleeding as best he could as he turned back. Pulling himself back up into the ring by his elbows, every touch causing his acidic secretions to eat away at the arena more, leaving it horribly disfigured and probably in need of quarantine, he waited for Aimee to run like a mouse into a bolt hole before crossing back into the middle. Retracing the steps in which he removed the suit in reverse order.

Kssssssssh... Kooooooooh... Kssssssssh...

Taking his first breaths through the mask again, he walked out of the ring and over to Moriarty. Leaving behind a corner of the room in utter wreckage with barely breathable air. He stood breathing, making no other noise, waiting to be told what to do next. From his perspective, he'd tested the boundaries. Actually quite surprised that he'd been on the verge of causing such devastation with so few preventative measures in place. His previous custodians had been much more thorough. They'd assured him that at the academy they'd have antidotes and masks on hand if his powers were ever let loose like that.

He'd actually expected that there would be containment. A dome of glass. Something to fall down over the arena and keep it contained while he was fighting. It would be a lot of trouble to go to for one student, but he couldn't be the only one with dangerous powers. He just couldn't be.

Either way... at least from now on, they'd be a lot more wary of him, for their own good. Although first there was sure to be punishment to follow. His first day at his first school- and already he was classified as a delinquent. Was that a milestone? Probably not. Punishment was sure to follow, and if he was unlucky, it would be exotic in nature. Feeding the Academy's resident minotaur, perhaps. Well, he deserved it. Punishment was fine. Or Moriarty could shoot him here and now, and he probably deserved that too.

Koooooooooooooooooooooooooh.

(Was he forgetting something? What could it be... what could it- oh yeah. His roommate. An apology was in order, maybe...?)

~Reneé

Reneé sighed in relief as the professor's threat had succeeded. Vidal being back in his suit was bound to make everyone feel safer, even with the gas still lingering about. The lighter in his hand slipped back into his pocket, Reneé feeling slightly stupid for even having kept it out, running the risk of potentially igniting the gas in the air.

"It's a good thing the spectral, spectral? yeah, spectral flame emitting from my eye doesn't react to external substances. Geez, that would be running a risky life if it did." Reneé thought, his attention now wandering. "Oh look, umbrella girl, was her name Priscilla? And her roomy are both out of their respective ring. Something must've worked to someones advantage, but slightly backfired at the last second..."

Moriarty waited patiently while Vidal put the suit back on. The boy came back and did nothing but breathe steadily, awaiting any further instruction. Moriarty never lowered the gun, even when Vidal was right in front of him and the barrel was practically touching his mask. "This lesson is being cut short. Apologies to those who didn't get a chance to try. In any case, you all receive an F. Your rooms are on the third floor, west wing. You're all dismissed. Except for Vidal... And you, too, Aimee. I need to chat with you." He finally dropped the gun back into his jacket, and motioned for the two of them to follow him. "The rest of you, behave yourselves and don't go wandering the estate. You're on lockdown, now. I'll have the doctor come by your rooms and give out medication as necessary."

He went to a back section of the basement, where a door sat in a darkened corner. An airtight door. He turned a wheel in the center, then a smaller one where a doorknob might have been. Pushing it open, his flicked on a switch, and bright florescent light turned on at the same moment a fan whirred to life. The room was completely barren, completely white, and only about the size of a walk-in closet. "Make sure the door closes behind you." He ordered. "So, then, what to do with you?" He pulled off his own mask, taking a deep breath. "You were quick to throw away the lives of everyone here, wouldn't you say? Don't answer that." Moriarty touched a finger to the center of Vidal's mask, pressing it against his face. "Right now, I could kill you. Do you understand? Or I could crush your bones. I don't need to touch you except with this one finger. I didn't get these scars by pussing out, kid. So when I give instructions, you damn well better do as I say. Because by official school policy, I was supposed to kill you." With that said, he removed his finger from Vidal.

"You know why you're here, don't you? You have deadly powers – all 14 of you – and you have to learn to use them properly. Which means you have to use your head. You, probably, more than the rest. Understand? Your punishment..." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I think you’ll be helping Anne-Marie with weeding for a week.” He nodded. “She’d like the company. Do it again, and I’ll have no choice but to shoot, though. Meantime, find a way to compensate for the rubber suit.

“As for you, Aimee. Seeing as you are his roommate, you should be aware of a few things. What to do in case of emergencies. Here,” He handed her a pile of crumpled papers. Vidal’s picture was on the front, and most of the text on the papers was covered in black ink. “I’m not allowed to give you the unabridged version, but there’s the important stuff.” He stood up to his full height and rolled his shoulders. “Now, Aimee, if you could just put this on, take it off at the top of the stairs, and keep it in your room from now on.” He handed her the mask he’d used when he threatened Vidal. “Lovely. Now get to your room.” He said, cranking the wheels until the door opened again. “I’ll stay here until the Janitor says I’m clean. I did, after all, get pretty close to Vidal.”


So now Eris just wanted to “chat?” Nick wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Right. Before we die.” He scratched the back of his ear. “Well, it seems we aren’t needed here, anyway.” He said when Moriarty told them they failed. “I suppose we’re supposed to go to our room. West wing, huh?” He went up the stairs without anything to say. At the top, he had to turn around and think about the road’s direction before he remembered which way west was.

The stairs were pretty easy to find. It almost felt like a hotel for a moment, walking up the stairs the way he was. They kept winding past the third floor, but he figured he could look at the rest of the building later. Just as they were promised, their luggage was brought up, and was resting comfortably in front of their doors. Each door had two removable nameplates beside it, with the names of that room’s residents on it. There was one set of bags with a note sticking to it, reading “had to scrap the dirigible. sorry. –L”

Nick grabbed his duffle bag and entered his room. There wasn’t even a lock on the door. The inside explained it. There were two beds, parallel to one another, with about five feet between them. They each had a desk at the foot of the bed, with a little lamp. Aside from that, they each had three cupboards. There was a sink, but he didn’t see a toilet or shower. Looking out in the hallway revealed a door clearly labeled “toilet” in six different languages. A note left on his desk said that showers were located on the first floor. This is the most inconvenient system I’ve ever seen. To say the least, he was feeling disgruntled.

((But seriously, sorry to those who didn't get to play with their powers. Which is most everybody.))

(OOC: Probably for the best on Reneé's part, no need to make gas explode or pointlessly burn out his stocked souls)

~Reneé

"Pfft, an F, whatever. Next time ensure preparations are made for proper sparring..." Reneé scoffed under his breath as he grabbed his coat and game, and made his way to the stairs. "And seriously, lock-down, is that kids fumes that hazardous to our health even at that range? Shit."

The climb was rather uneventful, Reneé wanted to play with his fire, but running the risk of igniting the air was a rather stupid idea. So the little game was turned on, and Reneé started making preparations for a 2 vs 2 battle against Raisa. Reneé regarded the floor with their rooms with a grimace. There was only one room with a(?) toilet. Reneé found his room and rolled his bags in, and dumped his backpack on the left bed, indicating his claim on it.

"Hope that, what was it? Doctor? That doctor gets here soon, I want to at least show you what I can do with a small flame..." Reneé remarked to Raisa as he began to put his clothes away in one of the cupboards. "I suppose it doesn't seem necessary of me to wear the sports coat for much though. Geez dad, always concerning yourself about first impressions..." Reneé thought as he draped the coat on his chair.

How much danger were we in, Priam wondered as he stepped down from the sparring area, that we're now under lockdown; that a doctor will be appearing just to check on us? The fact that Moriarty had pulled a gun on this Vidal fellow was an indication that any lethal actions would be... dealt with in a swift and efficient manner. So it was just as well that the sparring lessons were cut short; had things dragged out, Priam's hand might very well have made contact with Serena... and Moriarty would almost certainly kill him.

There was something else, of even greater interest, to be gleaned from this: Vidal was an even greater threat to the safety of the public than Priam. Priam only had to cover his hands, as opposed to Vidal and his entire body. Even so, the fact that a defense was needed at all meant that Priam had more in common with Vidal than he did with any other student.

With a slightly drawn-out slithering sound, Priam's claws retracted into his fingers, and Priam donned a fresh pair of gloves as he ascended the stairs. He hadn't bothered to wait for Serena, of course - as far as Priam was concerned, Serena would merely be the person that shared a room with him. Interaction between them would hopefully be... minimal.

Priam soon reached the top of the stairs, and found his bag amongst all of the others; distinguishable by the same white ouroboros mark that adorned his gloves. Spotting his name next to a nearby door, Priam entered it without a word. The room itself seemed simple enough - not as good as his lodgings when the old man was sheltering him, but far and away better than what he tended to live in during his street years.

Wonder if the doctor will give me directions to the health office when he arrives, Priam thought as he started to put away his clothes, if we're under the assumption that said office will be replacing the cafeteria for the test tomorrow, I won't be told. Have to make that assumption; pointless to give me the normal test. I've nothing to gain from it.

An F? Well, at least she wasn't the only one that failed.

Pfft, deadly abilities? Sure if you called breaking into private information deadly. Well, she could do more. She adjusted her laptop on her shoulder, maybe once the AI was finished she might have some sort of edge.

Instead she followed the others up the stairs, her new room mate leading the way. Being the first one in, Reneé claimed his bed first. Raisa took the bed on the right, flopping down on the bed with a sigh.

Reneé had already started unpacking, taking the care to toss his dress coat on a chair. "Hope that, what was it? Doctor? That doctor gets here soon, I want to at least show you what I can do with a small flame..."


"Something tells me that this is gonna be and interesting experience. A few hours in and the entire student body was nearly killed by a terrible Darth Vader impersonator." She looked over at him. "So I was right? Fire huh? And you were right about the technopath thing, by the way." She sat up and reached into her bag, but paused when she felt what seemed like a envelope. Sure enough, a long white envelope, with a huge Greyhaven logo on the front. Raisa stared at it for a second. Damn it Dad, she thought, scowling at the paper. She put in back in her bag, saving that mess for later seemed like the best idea.

Instead she took out her own 3DS, waving it in front of her. "See, told ya. I mean, gotta have something to do with my off time instead of doing... whatever qualifies as homework around this place."

She paused. "So, room mates...uh... you don't have any... drastic stuff you need to warn me about do you? I mean, not like that gas mask kid right?"

~Reneé

"Simple assumption. I could've been wrong. And your half right." Reneé replied as he surveyed his side of the room for a plug-in. "The acceptance letter informed me that I am classified as a parasitic pyrokinetic. Essentially my capabilities with fire stem from how many souls I've absorbed, or the quality of soul I suppose. You know, quality over quantity." Reneé quickly had found the plug-in under his desk, a simple twin grounded socket. 'By the way, plug-in's under your desk. Anyways, my other ability, the one to be concerned about, oh, I can only absorb the souls of the deceased, is the ability to burn out souls to weaken the body, mind, and soul of others. Rather risky ability though, as it weakens my connection with fire in turn."

Reneé had returned to his back-pack and had procured a laptop built for gaming and began setting it up on his desk. "But enough abut my ability, what's the extent of yours. Technopath can have the potential of a number of sub abilities, and I'm curious to know the extent of you know you can do." Reneé said as he booted up his laptop, the familiar jingle replaced by a short melodic riff from some metal band.

Probably, said the rational part of Vidal's brain, he ought to feel mortified for his behavior. Or at least feign such an attitude. Truth be told though, he was a terrible liar. And at the moment he felt nothing but cold apathy for everything that had happened. It was all simply cause and effect- but the longer reaching consequences that would rise from this might even be to his liking. He'd be quite happy if most of the student body kept their distance from him, with the exception of the real freaks and monsters. Was it strange to be choosy about people when he himself was nobody's first choice? Perhaps. But then again, perhaps he was being quite hasty about all this...

After all, Moriarty called for him to follow, and he did as he was told. Maybe they were taking him to be put down like a rabid dog. But... why bring Aimee along? She was like a lame bunny rabbit. If anyone was to terminate her life, the only justification would be to put her out of her misery. Perhaps she'd been infected beyond the point that they could cure?

It was nothing so exciting. Today there would be no splatter of acidic blood on the walls as a bullet shattered his skull and pulped his brains, nor would there be a quiet whimper and the thud of his cowering roommate's corpse hitting the floor. But only just barely. Feeling that finger inches away from his forehead, there was no question of how close he'd brushed with death. It made him feel... a spark of admiration, perhaps? Moriarty implied he could really kill him with no more than his little finger, and Vidal fully believed him. It made him feel strangely comfortable no longer being the most dangerous person in the room and having no doubt about it. Even as he was made an additional death threat, and informed of the nature of his punishment, he nodded with a certain degree of respect for his new tutor.

The papers were barely worth a glance. Let the girl know whatever she wanted. Turning his back, he walked away as soon as he was sure the conversation was over. Going to his room and getting settled would feel like a huge weight off his shoulders, provided that his accommodations were sufficiently proofed against his powers. Retracing his steps to lead the way out of the basement, he collected his meager belongings and headed for the room he was due to call 'home' for a while to come. He knew it instantly on sight. It had two separate warning signs on the front- Biohazard, and electric shock warning.

Stepping inside... it was certainly not normal at all by the standards of most people. The room was divided in half by a clear screen. One half was brilliant white, clean to the point of sterility and could only be accessed through a decontamination chamber; while the other was insulated with rubber. To an excessive degree. It made him stop and reconsider... was Aimee perhaps more dangerous than he'd let on? Maybe there was in fact a very good reason why they'd been put together after all.

Gundam smirked as Sun-D's tackle alone was enough to drive Katie to the edge of the ring. That easy to push, hmmm? Seems like this was going to be easy... Maga-G and Cham-P might not even be needed, if Sun-D could get some practice in. In fact, Jum-P was usually quite passive, and could use a slightly tougher exercise regimen--

Sun-D was jostled, from seemingly nothing, being tossed slightly upwards but then quickly falling down and regaining her perch. Are her powers illusory as well, or did Sun-D jump of her own volition? He wondered, just before an apparition rose up, shouting, in a ghostly and commanding voice:

"How foolish of you to have awoken me from my mortal slumber. Now you shall fully incur my fury! Have at you!"

(... Admittedly, it was quite impressive.)

There was a rushing towards him, and then some sort of blow. Like being hit in the chest, not any worse than a lot of he's gotten from his animals, but... breezier, less definable, still. More mysterious? The woman rose above him (surely that was Katie? Quite an impressive mortal, after all), shining brightly, and he would've countered, engaged in banter, something, except he heard a whooshing, dropping sound--a few rings away, a light was extinguished...

The one in the suit no longer was.

More confused than shocked (the boy didn't wear the suit for style, obviously, but he still didn't know his powers completely), he listened as a gun was pulled and threats were made. The suit came back on, eventually, and they were all ordered to leave. An F for all of them... he scoffed. Quite meaningless, if the all were given one for his transgressions, and even so it's not like he cared immensely. Still, if medication needed to be handed out... did they have some appropriate for the Dark Gods? Worry ran through him, and then anger; if they weren't prepared for this...!

Sensing that the fight was over, Jum-P transformed back without much fanfare. The Dark God continued to rest on Gundam's shoulder as he bent down to pick up Maga-G and Cham-P, both in hamster form once more, while Sun-D rushed forward and began to shrink just while approaching his hand. Gundam let them settle before getting up and moving on, walking slowly and deliberately towards his room. He arrived there slightly late, behind the crowd but seemingly before his roommate. This time he carried - well, pushed - his bag through the door himself (it was easily recognizable; black, with a purple inverted cross just like the one on his shirt), and when it was in the center of the room he stopped. The room was quite simple, actually, despite everything else about the academy; there were two beds, located at opposite sides of the room, a desk by the door, a door to a bathroom on the remaining wall, and not much else... oh, there was a closet by the desk. A single closet, but he didn't anticipate that being a problem.

After appraising the room, he went straight to unpacking. He took out the collapsible rocking chair first, unfolding it and putting his books on top of the seat. He reassembled his hamster cage next; with the stand it was on, it went up to his shoulders in height. He re-checked for the necessities--put in new bedding, a wheel, a water bottle, feeding dish, etc.

Of course, the tubes were the largest space consumer in his suitcase, and possibly a time consumer to put together as well. That simply meant he needed to get to work. There was a lot to do, after all. Linking one vibrant primary-color tube after another together, he easily consumed the about half of the room's floor space, making a wide circle in the center, all for his four Dark Gods. They were his roommates too, after all.

As soon as she realized that Vidal had the suit off, Serena ceased attacking Priam. And as she saw the greenish gas, or whatever you might call it, she threw on her coat and covered her nose and mouth. After all, this was a crisis and everyone was acting so cool and collected... Except the professor. Pointing a gun at a student! This was all so strange... She slipped on one shoe, then moved all the way to the one she had thrown. She was more than happy to oblige Moriarty.

But she felt bad for that girl... Aimee, was it? She certainly didn't seem the type for Vidal. She was probably scared right out of her skin.

Following the others all the way up the stairs, Serena tried to think about her roommate. He seemed so closed off. Certainly not sociable. She'd have to correct that if she was to obey the curfew. She'd go nuts if she had a roommate who never said two words.

She found her bags, and it was lucky that her name was next to a door, because she had totally forgotten her room number. The door was a little open, probably from Priam not closing it. So she did what any sensible girl would do.

She kicked it open and basically shouted, "SO, NO HARD FEELINGS, HUH?" With a wide grin, she slapped Priam on the back as she dragged her bags to the empty side of the room. She didn't bother with unpacking. She figured she'd unpack over time, day by day. So she simply dropped the bags by her bed, and stretched before falling down on the bed. "I mean, I was about to kick your butt. Me and Lefty got the best of you." She waved her left foot, slipping off the shoe so it dangled from her big toe. "But don't worry. I'm kind of a genius like that. Or possibly crazy. I've never been sure which." She shrugged and sat up. "But I must say, if your only power is growing Bag-Lady claws, that's a bit lame. No offense."

While everyone was focused on the commotion between Moriarty and Vidal, Katie felt the toxins in the air and immediately phased through her own body, forcing it from its side to its stomach; this should minimize the air intake, especially since her face had settled so conveniently into the crook of her arm--

And then it was over. Moriarty had (through threat of death, of course what else should she expect from this institution, this was even less inviting than Katie had predicted) stemmed the flow of death, and the lesson was over. Katie was irked that one person had ruined it for everyone else gradewise, but agreed that it should end there; no reason to make everyone else exhaust themselves on top of extreme paranoia that came with going to school with a walking gas chamber--besides she wasn't here to get good grades in the first place, how beneficial to a resume could a top-secret paranormal academy be anyway.

Throughout the three-minute (and six seconds this time, to be exact, but) re-integration process (which wasn't an accurate term for it at all, but "vital bodily function start-up process" was too wordy and not snappy enough), Katie watched/sensed the departure of each other student. She couldn't leave until all of her systems were back online, so to speak--something she knew that the faculty understood, if not by mind-reading then by the fact that Moriarty had left and two orderlies were standing by until she was the last one left in the room. Standing up and shaking her hair out until it fell in some semblance of straight, she sighed and went to grab her bags.

"Excuse me, miss," said on of the orderlies, stepping in front of her, "we've been instructed to keep you here for monitoring. Your astral form was floating around in an all-encompassing viral cloud, and in the case that some of it had perme--"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," interrupted Katie, hardly sorry at all, "but it is not an 'astral form' so much as it is a separated consciousness. It doesn't have bodily functions, so those bodily functions aren't physically vulnerable to attack. By virtue of 'they don't exist.' So I appreciate the concern, and I'd appreciate you telling your superiors that I appreciate their concern, but I can attest to the fact that nobody knows my own powerset quite so well as I do, by virtue of my powerset being knowing things at least as well as most other people. I'll be going now, I am quite tired."

Leaving the baffled orderlies behind her, Katie traversed the rather basic layout of the school to her room. Deadly powers, Moriarty had said, all fourteen of them. But Katie couldn't imagine her powers being used to kill someone, and she could imagine a lot of things. 4C, there it was, and there were five minds behind the door so that must mean--

She entered the room to see Gundam and his hamsters already occupying the space and wow that was an elaborate hamster cage. She tiptoed over it gingerly, placing her clothes-suitcase on the bed and her books-suitcase beside it, swinging her backpack to land next to the clothes-suitcase. Looking around, it shouldn't be that uncomfortable here; Katie had never needed much space to begin with, she could keep most of her clothes in the suitcase to give Gundam most of the closet space, and as long as she had a desk for her laptop/desklight/stack of library books, she'd be alright.

Katie flopped on the bed and sighed, fully aware of the looks she was getting from roommate and hamster alike. She glanced at Gundam. "Get settled in okay?"

Priam had nearly finished unloading all of his clothes when the door to his room was kicked open by Serena. Before he could react to this sudden entrance, Serena seemed to cross the room in one stride, slapping Priam's back with a force much greater than that of her initial attack back in the sparring ring. Priam was slammed into the cupboard headfirst by the impact, but before he could retort in any way, Serena had already plopped down onto her bed.

Rubbing his head in discontent, Priam took a moment to sip from his flask, savoring the flavor of the substance. He briefly frowned as he recalled what he had been told earlier today - that the flask was to only be filled - and filled to the top - once in the morning. Priam would have to ration the substance to his choosing for the remainder of the day. Seems impractical, he thought, swirling the flask, should something happen to the flask, how dangerous would it be for me... I'll have to ask the doctors that whenever they arrive, I suppose. Best to follow advice and conserve in the meantime

All while he'd been pondering the drink keeping him alive, Serena was rambling on about how she would've beaten him if Vidal hadn't cut short the match. She was likely right in that regard, simply because Priam couldn't go all-out with his powers the same way that others could.

He considered correcting her about the full extent of his powers, but decided against it. A remark like that - even if it was as vague as "not everything I can do" - would likely only encourage this girl. Yes... she certainly seemed like the type of person that could be easily encouraged. So to that end, Priam's retort was simply no retort at all. He merely attached his flask back to his belt, and returned to depositing the remaining clothes that were in the duffle. Perhaps an unnecessary move, considering how few pieces of clothing Priam had to begin with, but Priam found some enjoyment in simply knowing where everything of his was, especially the gloves (the boxes of which he planned to stack on top of one another and place under the desk).

Two of his three books were placed on top of the desk, with the intention of stacking them with whatever textbooks he would receive from teachers later down the line. The third book - one he had been reading when he'd first arrived at the Academy - was placed at the foot of his bed. When he was finished with going through the motions of unpacking, Priam intended to reward himself with a relaxed read of this book. At least, that's what he hoped - something told him that Serena would be a rather large wrench in his plans to settle in and enjoy this piece of literature.

Aimee followed the teacher to the room, holding her hands behind her back and listening closely. This Vidal was more dangerous than she thought since they all would need doctors and possibly medication. She didn't know whether or not her life would be better if she stayed home or not now, though maybe this school will prove itself. Right now, she was scared out of her mind, probably going to get stuck with Vidal one way or another, and she already got an F.

She took the mask and papers, so she already had to learn about this guy? Aimee kept an groan to herself and just eyed the mask. Was she going to have to wear this whenever she's around him or just in emergencies? She put the mask over her face, adjusting it comfortably and looking over to Vidal as he left.

Taking the papers she followed him at a distance up the stairs, once she reached the top, she took off the mask and went to her stuff, able to be finally away from the mess that had happened downstairs. Picking up her bags she saw that Vidal had already entered their room. She could only imagine what they would have in there. Perhaps it was a room full of medical supplies and everything was clean and sterile like a hospital? Aimee had seen enough of those already, so hopefully it won't be that. Or maybe it would be split off into two, his room completely different from hers? She finally walked by the doorway and looked inside over Vidal's shoulder.

She was close in what she thought their room would look like. She could only assume that the clean, white side was his and the rubberized room was hers. They were actually well prepared to stop any of their powers from hurting the other. Hers would be almost completely nullified. Did they really expect her abilities to be that powerful?

Despite the inevitability of Katie coming in, Gundam couldn't help but be surprised, jumping a little just as he finished connecting the last hamster tube to the cage. He was just a little bit unnerved by her stepping over it, even though it was the obvious path to take; walking around would be quite awkward. He decided not to say anything about it. The Four Dark Gods weren't in there, even, and she didn't seem clumsy enough to ever step on one of the tubes.

He looked over at Katie briefly, averting his gaze after she asked her question. "... Sufficiently so. I made sure to pack all that was necessary for the Dark Gods' needs. Their castle resisted confinement, dark malevolence refusing to be contained in such a restrictive environment as one that could be shut up and toted around as one pleased... I made sacrifices, and forced closed the portal before I made my journey here. Despite them, I should manage. After all, could anything else truly be expected from the future Ascendant Ruler of Ice?"

He looked down at his bag. It was left with much more sag room now, but it wasn't empty yet. There were more hamster care supplies - unfortunately, when the Dark Gods transformed here, he would not have proper supplies for hawks, elephants, foxes, or dragons on hand; they would have to stay mostly in their more ordinary forms - as well as treats, most notably sunflower and pumpkin seeds that he roasted himself. He could leave most of them in there for now, he supposed. His clothes as well; they were all very similar, anyway. Instead, he took out out a black curtain decorated with a pentagram, and hung it above his bed.

"... For a half-breed such as yourself, your psychic projection was quite... impressive. What sort of magery do you claim to?"

Now that she thought about it, Professor Moriarty dismissal had been rather careless in dismissing them, hadn’t he? After all, if the gases really had been toxic, letting them back into their rooms would mean they’d have to clean up the rooms afterward, too, wouldn’t it? She wasn’t quite sure she understood why only he needed to be cleaned and everyone else in the room only needed medication.

(She was fairly convinced that she didn’t need any. First, because she was fairly confident that the gases hadn’t crossed that far across the room; and second, because she was reasonably convinced of her own competence, and she did, after all, have some degree of control over gas expansion.)

She was also quite, rather disappointed at the janitor: she’d found a note with "had to scrap the dirigible. sorry. —L" on her bags; none of the luggage had been damaged at all, but she would have wanted to keep at least the dirigible scraps for her next dirigible. There would be a next dirigible. She’d have to find the janitor and ask about it.

Right now, though, what she really wanted was the glassware; she needed something … relatively inert, at least, to store the presumably toxic gas she’d smuggled (not that anyone had actually forbidden it, but still) out of the basement, and it probably really wouldn’t do if she lost control of it before she had it contained. One of the Erlenmeyer flasks should do; she’d use one of the glass stoppers in case (and if glass wouldn’t do, well, she probably had a bigger problem anyway).

Thomas wasn’t in the room when she entered, which was surprising, perhaps he’d gone somewhere? To the lav at the end of the hall, perhaps; it probably didn’t really matter, so she went ahead and dealt with the immediate problem, and put the flask in the cupboard—she’d deal with it later. She’d probably want to talk to the biohazard-suit-person-thing’s roommate first; she’d seen Professor Moriarty give that one a stack of paper, after all, probably mostly safety information. To that Gundam Tanaka, the one with the adorable hamsters, just to be sure whether he would be of any help with animal breeding; his roommate, too, the one whose car she’d wrecked. To Thomas, about that abomination of his.

To everyone else, too, actually, it would definitely help to know what was supernatural about them and how it worked and that sort of thing; quite a bit to learn here. And the janitor, about the dirigible scraps. To Professor Moriarty, too, about safety. … in short, for best results, she was going to, at some point, have talk to everyone, wasn’t she?

But first, she was going to unpack, so she dumped her other hundred and seven umbrellas out onto the floor.

Thomas had no idea what had happened.

Obviously he'd calculated his trajectory right. He had collided with Priscilla, and then things got very... weird. A weird fluid had begun to emanate from the gravitational point, but this was irrelevant as the two hit the water with a great force and then passed through the point. Not around but straight through. It was something that Thomas had never experienced before, and as he hit the hard concrete outside of the ring he realized he never wanted to do it again. It felt like a section of his stomach had been sharply tugged on and then released. He noticed that there was a horrible pain in his chest as well, right around the spot where he had been hit three years ago to the day. And it frightened him.

Thomas would have gone through a breakdown had he not been jabbed in the back by an umbrella. Was she.... patronizing him? Really? The pain flew away and Thomas sat up, confused, on the ground.

"Would you mind if I experimented with your, uh, that thing?"

Thomas gave her a look. This one seemed a bit... eccentric. Not mean, no. He supposed he had gotten carried away. And she seemed curious.

"Not now, necessarily, but at some point?"

"Well, uh..."

And then there was a click. It wasn't the happy click of a mouse or a keyboard, but something deeper, sinister. Thomas swore he'd heard something like it on TV before, but he couldn't place it.

He stood up, looked behind him, and there he could see a kid he hadn't noticed there before. He was deathly pale, obviously sick, and something seemed wrong about him. A smell seemed to be coming from his general direction. It smelled like every horrid thing in the world. And in front of him stood Moriarty. Holding the source of the click, a now loaded pistol. There was a yell. Then he noticed the kid's sparring partner. She was cowering in the corner, covering her mouth, trying to get away from the kid that looked as if he was what Schrodinger had seen in his cat- Dead and alive at the same time. He recognized her as the girl that had been paired with gas mask guy. But then where was the....

Oh.

Oh shit.

The realization washed over Thomas like a stray wave in a hurricane. The mask kept this out. And the kid had taken it off. And now the sickness was spreading in this crowded basement.

"Um, did you say something? I was distracted, I think something’s wrong."

Priscilla had asked him a question again. Had their lives not have been in immediate danger, as Thomas feared they were, he would have made an amusing quip. However, he wasn't in the right state. And neither was anyone else. Eventually, the kid (Thomas though he had heard a whisper identifying him as Vidal) put the suit back on, much to everyone's relief. Moriarty, however, was no less stern as he had been before. In fact, he seemed worse. He first gave everyone a failing grade. Then he dismissed them all, with the exception of the two that had caused the mess. Thomas had been right, gas mask's name was Vidal. And the girl was Aimee, apparently. Thomas would keep the names in mind in case he ever needed to talk to them.

With the dismissal issued, he turned to Priscilla to properly answer her from before. Only to find that she had disappeared, apparently to their room. Thomas sighed, a bit exasperated, and tried to find his way to his room. When he eventually did, as he tried the door, he found it only opened a sixth of what it should have. And there seemed to be several umbrellas coming out of the room, as well.

"Eccentric, indeed." he muttered to himself.

"That's, ah, wow," she could think of anything to say. And how exactly did he get these souls? She almost shuddered at the thought. She followed his lead, taking out her laptop and placing it on her own desk, noting the power outlet beneath.

"I honestly haven't done much with my abilities," she admitted. "I see information, and can alter a computer's internal coding. Sort of a super hacker." She pushed the power button on her computer. "Like..." she paused. "I see like, holograms, code, data, files, everything. It took a while to learn to focus enough for it to really do anything.I just, well, see them." She grinned. "So if you see me grabbing for nothing but air, you'll know I'm probably 'talking' to my computer."

~Reneé

Reneé noticed Raisa's little shudder from the corner of his eye and groaned inwardly. He didn't want to start off the school year by freaking out his room-mate, and especially not by introducing her to his home life.

"Oh, and don't worry about the whole weakening of soul thing, I have to voluntarily enable it, and its rather clear if I do." Reneé replied, lifting the lock of hair from over his right eye, revealing the rather dull flame flickering weakly from it. "This eye becomes a rather unnerving nightlight when I do."


"By the by, what you can do with your ability as of yet seems pretty cool. It'd be pretty fun to be able to do that kind of theing, oh! It'd be a lot like Tony Stark from Iron Man, right?" Reneé queried as he plugged in a small USB device to his computer. "I bet your abilities could develop to something cooler, not saying that their current capabilities aren't, such as re-purposing electronic devices, oh that would be something!"

She laughed at his night light joke. "Sorry if I seemed a bit weird, not all the time someone says they can use dead souls to literally fuel their fire. But it sounds pretty cool, just as long as you don't go all pyro on me, or my hair."

Raisa grinned. "Ha, Tony Stark. Well, I am working on something pretty cool. I haven't really finished yet, but... wanna meet our other room mate?" she asked, pulling up to her computer.