[IC] Horror High - Freshman Year

High school - most of them are relatively similar. The bustle of teenagers moving through the halls, chatting. The occasional bit of laughter or a teacher's voice filtering through the noise.

Today is the first day of a new school year and the Freshman are being herded into the school's gym/auditorium for an assembly. The usual speech from the principle welcoming the class of 2020 to Belmont High.

Except...

Most of the newcomers have heard the rumors. From older siblings, from their parents, from friends - Belmont High has another name - Horror High. Mysterious things happen there. Disappearances, unexplained events, even a couple of murders.

Among the fresh faces sitting in the pull-out bleachers are Tasha, her nose in a book; Francis, who had been through all of this the year before; Owen, standing a bit taller than the rest of the students; and Juno, who noticed something odd as she took her seat - a pair of uniformed police officers one of the whom was her sister, Janice.

Janice had been informed that morning that she was being assigned to a new detail by Captain Glivinski, known at the precinct as Captain Ski. Thus, she found herself at the high school, catching Juno's eye as her sister sat in the pull-out bleachers. Seated behind the two officers were the school counselor, vice principal, librarian, and a couple of teachers. Banners proudly displaying the school's maroon and blue colors and the mascot, a hat wearing pirate-like face meant to represent "Marauders."

Principal Belladonna Jameson, a tall, starkly thin woman with wispy gray-streaked black hair tied back in a bun, wearing a modest business suit, takes the podium, adjusting the microphone up a bit as she begins her speech.

"First of all, welcome to Belmont High. I am Principal Jameson. Before I get to the introductions of the staff and telling you about the school's academic and athletic opportunities, I wanted to address another matter.

I will be blunt. This school has a reputation that I am sure you are all aware of on some level. In order to combat this unfortunate trend of violence, Belmont High, in conjunction with the Belmont Police Department, is introducing a new program. A police officer will be on school grounds at all times during school hours and after school activities. This officer will act as liaison first and foremost and will be our first point of contact if a security issue should arise. To explain further, allow me to introduce Captain Darren Glivisnki."

The captain rises from his chair, shaking the principal's hand as he takes the podium. He is a jovial sort, nearly always smiling, with carefully combed brown hair and a bit of a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Thank you, Principal Jameson and thank you, class of 2020. So, how y'all doing? Good? Good. I know having a cop around is a little nerve-wracking but Officer Reyes here is one of our best and brightest. She'll be taking good care of you. Now, as part of this new program, Officer Reyes will be also be coordinating an after school program for those of you the school deems to be at risk. Yeah, I know, I know that's a loaded phrase, but bear with me, here. At risk just means that maybe your home situation isn't great. Or you've had a run in or two with detention or even the law. The goal for the group will be not just be to keep you out of trouble but help equip you to face your future ready for whatever comes your way."

At that point, Captain Glivinski retakes his seat and Principal Jameson begins talking about the school's academic programs and begins introducing the various faculty behind her.

[sblock= EARLIER]

"This is it, Mom- the big day. I'm sure it is going to be great!" Tasha's voice was little more than a whisper, but it didn't matter that much- she was alone in her room and, in fact, alone in the house, even at such an early hour. Her mother was already waiting for the Red Line train at Alewife Station, headed into Boston for work. Tasha had taken to getting up really early the last few days, just so she and her mom had a few minutes of what her therapist called "Quality Connection Time"- but she had hit the snooze button one time too many today... Of course it would be the first day at the new school.

She stood in front of her mirror for a few more minutes, trying to make little adjustments to her look. You never got a second chance to make a first impression, they said, and Tasha knew she was going to make LOT of 'first impressions' today. She had been to the school a few times to meet various administrators and straighten out the tangled maze of paperwork for enrollment- and she had seen a few other kids her age wandering around town over the last week or so, when she had gone exploring to take a break from all the unpacking for the latest move. Her room was still half-full of boxes- but now it was time to get back out into the world for real, at a new school (again) with actual kids her own age. It wouldn't be a disaster again, right? Dr. Caldwell said she was ready, and Tasha herself even felt ready this time. Mostly ready, anyway. She hadn't heard any voices in weeks... With one last look in the mirror, Tasha decided that her clothes, at least, were ready- she had gone for a pretty simple look, though she would probably be dressed more heavily than anyone else in her class. A slightly over-sized grey polo shirt over a black turtleneck (which matched the foam-and-plastic brace on her left wrist, which she had sprained in a fall down the front stairs last week), a soft black skirt that fell to her ankles, and calf-high black boots all conspired to give a flowing sort of look that hid just how thin she was. She knew that everybody was going to be looking at her today, both as the "New Girl" and as an obvious weirdo, but at least when she was dressed like this people didn't look at her that way, the way that made her feel oily and gross... Finally satisfied, she tugged on the shapeless cloth hat she had chosen and headed for the door, snagging her bookbag from the chair in the kitchen on the way out. The school bus, and the whole bright new world, would be waiting...

She didn't even notice, as she trooped down the front steps of the triple-decker that she in her mom were renting a floor of, that she had left the front door open just a bit (it tended to not latch the first time)- and she didn't notice, as she was walking down the street to the bus stop, that the door slammed closed- all on its own. That sort of thing didn't happen anymore, not with the new meds...
[/sblock]

(At the Assembly)

Tasha had been one of the first kids into the room. Her homeroom teacher seemed rather eager to send her students off to the (mandatory) assembly and most of the other kids had quickly coalesced into tight little knots, friends reconnecting after the summer. Tasha, with no one to 'reconnect' with, had spent a minute or so of indecision and then headed off to the assembly. At least she had been able to stow most of her books and stuff in her locker- her bookbag was crushingly heavy when it was fully loaded, but now it was down to a managable weight, for now. She stepped into the mostly empty room, staring up at the fold-out bleachers with a momentary flash of dismay. Just how many kids were they going to stuff in here, anyway? Crowds were so very much NOT her thing...

By that point, some of the other freshthings were beginning to filter into the room. Tasha gave a brief shy smile to some of the kids that had been in her homeroom, but then she moved up into the seats by herself. The soft brace of her left arm made juggling the bookbag and climbing through the seats a bit of a pain, so she didn't bother going all the way up- she just went to the far end of the third row, in a big patch of empty seats. She slung the bookbag down beside her, preserving a small section of protective empty space, then hauled out her water bottle and a paperback book. She had read it before, but she knew that being obviously engrossed in reading kept at least some potential conversations at bay- she could watch what was going on while pretending to read...

And so, she watched as the other kids filtered in and began to take their places. Most of them were small groups, far more interested in talking among themselves than in anything the assembly could provide. There were a few other loners, some of whom looked about as lost or confused as Tasha was feeling. One or two of them even glanced in her direction- natural enough, as she was pretty obviously new here, an unknown quantity. As the seats began to fill, Tasha paid a bit less interest to her book- she began, instead, to look over the other students more closely. Bouncing from town to town, school to school (or to institution) had honed some of her social senses, and now she was able to get some sense of who was who, what groups or cliques were in place (or forming, in a new level of school and socialization- this was high school now, not middle school). If she was going to make a go of this, she was going to have to fit in- somehow...

She put her book away as the doors were closed, and the various administrators, faculty, and guests began to form up on stage. Oy, was that a police officer? Two of them? What the... Tasha knew that many schools had a so-called 'Resource Officer', but this kind of suburban town hardly seemed likely to need it. Police, and especially guns, made her nervous. The door to the auditorium banged open, admitting a spill of a half-dozen late students- almost all jocks, talking loudly together as they climbed up the bleachers to sit on the very top row; they pushed roughly past Tasha as they made their climb, looking at her hardly at all and forcing her to grab for her bookbag before they could knock in to the floor in passing. As the last of the group scrambled by, Tasha felt the oily sensation of being watched- and for the first time in weeks a soft flash of a whispering wordless VOICE in her head... She twitched, almost dropping her bag, and forced her eyes closed- and the sibilant whisper was gone again, as quickly as it had arrived. Tasha avoided the urge to look around, and instead moved just a little bit further down the row of seats...

She was paying close attention as the principal started her spiel. Of course there had been rumors- even some odd stuff on the internet, if you knew where to look. That was fine- Tasha knew that she was a little odd, and a school with some strangeness seemed like a better fit than some hidebound, uptight school, but... Well, it did explain the police presence, didn't it? But as the police captain stepped up to the podium and made his pitch, Tasha felt a flash of fear. She thought that he was looking right at her when he said the words "at risk"- the twinkle in his eyes seemed menacing, and his smile filled her with dread. She sat back quickly- a bit too quickly, and her water bottle tipped over. "Hey watch it!" There was a brief flurry of aggrieved voices and sudden movement as the students in front of her shifted away from the (thankfully small) spill- it was enough to draw the eye and attention, but not enough to interrupt the activities on stage. Tasha blushed, mortified, and tried to sink into her seat under the glares of those closest to her. Blotting the little bit of water with the trailing edge of her long skirt, she tried to focus back in on what was being said up at the podium...

[sblock="-- August 19 --"]The morning of a late-summer day in New England. Lush green trees, twittering with anticipation of their autumn transformation, surround a lonely road near central Massachusetts. One car - the only car to travel this road today - sits on the shoulder of a curve in the road. It's a dark blue compact without ornamentation, the kind that wouldn't be out of place anywhere but here; the kind that would be hard to describe for the police. Its driver is a middle-aged man in workman's clothes, greying early, his beard just reaching his collar. He scans the tree line, listens to the birds, and gets out of the car to smoke, passing the hours patiently.

After noon, a figure emerges from the woods down the road. Despite the nice weather, she wears a large red waterproof coat and cargo pants, with a small camping bag slung over one shoulder. Her clothes are fairly clean, though her hair and face look to have been out here for a week. She takes a look around and spots the car, then stares at the ground the rest of the way as she walks toward it. The man puts out his cigarette and gets back in the car, driving to meet her. Both are silent as she gets in, and for several minutes of their drive back, him watching the road and her staring out the window.

<You were later than usual> the man starts in their native Romanian.

<I ended up far away.>

<Did you find your way back okay?>

<Obviously...>

<Excuse me?>

<Yes, I did.>

They drive a few more minutes.

<I have work with your cousin, I probably won't be home this weekend. I need you to tell your mother.>

No response.

<We've, uh, got sort of a big project coming up. I may not be home much next month either. You'll need to do some extra things around the house.>

She rolls her eyes. "Project" and "work" are weasel words he uses to pretend the gun in the glove box isn't part of this "work."

<And...I can't pick you up next time.>

<It's fine. I got my permit.>

<You can borrow the car. I don't want you using that thing you've been tinkering with.>

<It's not tinkering. I know what I'm doing.>

<Don't talk back. Use the car until I can check that bike out. If I trust it, maybe you can drive it to school.>

<Mom won't let me drive it anyway.>

<You're right. She hates fun.> A moment passes before the girl's stony mask breaks in a smirk. The man leans forward to peak at her face and laughs, partly because he cracked her and partly at how hard she's trying to hide it. <If she starts giving you guff, I'll talk to her. I'm not too old to hold her back while you escape.

<Hey, you want to see the new school? We can swing by on the way back.>

<...I just want to take a shower. I have four years to see that place.>

<If you're careful.>

She shrinks in her seat. <Yeah, I know...> If she doesn't watch it, she'll either graduate in her 20's or be a dropout. Hard to say which would be worse. At least her first scheduled absence won't be until the second week of class.[/sblock]
-- First day of school --

This school is a lot nicer than the last. Everything is too new and too different and sucks, but, it's nice. Francis is wearing tennis shoes, blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and the green jacket she wears most days. Most of her clothes were bought a few years ago with space to grow into, and don't have much life left in them now. Last year that would put her in the middle of the pack socially, but here she's somewhere in "troublemaker" territory. That works for her. The chatter around her seems even shallower than last year.

She arrives at the gym with most of the other students, just alone. A quick scan tells her that picking a seat here follows basically the same rules as before. "Good kids" sit in the front. Good kids who don't want to suck up sit just behind them. Popular kids in the center, spread into their cliques, with their entourage and hangers-on filling the buffer zones between them. In the back are the "bad kids," that is, a different species of popular kid using "badness" as their sales pitch; it's heavy with seniors. The really bad ones are in the back corners, which always seem darker than the rest of the room despite the even lighting. The kids who want to avoid any of those groups sit in the wastes of the middle to front of either far end. Anyone who doesn't rank in these categories goes anywhere they and their friends can fit, with distance to center correlating with how much they care about the appearance of listening.

It's always the same. This more or less works for buses, too, and classrooms with free seating, and dances, and cafeterias, after compensating for the lack of teachers to impress; anywhere with a high concentration of teenagers, and probably even adults. Like monkeys in a zoo.

And Francis is no different. Except for being not entirely monkey. She sits a few rows up the near side of the bleachers; the only kid who's staked a claim there is engrossed in their big flashing "Do Not Disturb" sign, which suits her just fine.

The assembly proper soon starts. Francis scarcely has time to ignore the principal before getting caught off guard by the two cops on stage. She shifts in her spot, looking to one side to avoid facing them head-on. Great. Cops. Because she didn't yet hate everything here, and it would be a shame for them to leave the job unfinished. If "at-risk program" is such a loaded term, why not "proactive detention?" It would be more honest. At least she knows where her afternoons will be spent.

She notices that the cop isn't talking anymore, and she's already missed a couple teacher introductions. With a sigh, she tries to wipe away her previous train of thought. Learning names impresses teachers, and she'll need every advantage she can get.

Juno showed up for the assembly with her sunglasses and earbuds on, took a seat in the back and commandeered the chair in front of her before anyone nabbed it so she could put her feet up. She'd chosen to come here instead of heading around back behind the lab building with some other kids she knew to wait the assembly out, so she could have a chance to relax and chill. There was some heavy stuff going on for her, and it was nice to have a minute to close her eyes, put some music on, and just let it all wash over her.

She was just starting to do that when someone say beside her and nudged her. "Hey," Juno dimly heard over the sound in her headphones.

Annoyed, she plucked her left earbud out, pushed her shades down her nose a bit so she could glare over their rims, and looked to her left.

Malia was sitting there, giving her that wry grin she had...white teeth looking even brighter contrasted with her dark skin. "Hey," she repeated. "What are you doing here instead of out there with the rest of the bangers?"

Juno managed to hold onto her frown, but only just. It'd been awhile since she'd seen Malia. They'd been friends since the last year of elementary...but things changed in middle school. No big fuss or drama. Just different circles, different directions. It was a little weird to think about now. "I'm not a banger," she replied irritably.

"No? I seen you hanging around with them," said Malia with that infuriating sort of teasing dubiousness that Juno remembered so well. Malia always did that...always left herself that 'hey, I was only joking' as an out. Some things didn't change after all.

She shrugged. "Whatever. I can hang out with people. Doesn't mean I'm into everything they are." Her sunglasses got pushed back up her nose, making a sort of wall across her eyes. If there was one thing she didn't want to talk to Malia about, it was this.

"Hey, no arguments from me," said her old friend. "I'm just wondering what...your sister?"

Juno looked over at her angrily. "Who cares what my sister thinks? She can think whatever she wants to think, she's..."

Malia was pointing at the stage and somehow managed to interrupt Juno by blurting, "Right up there."

"What?"

"Look!"

Unwillingly, Juno turned her head to look up at the stage thing they'd set up at the far end of the gym. Her head felt heavy, like someone had hung training weights around her scalp. The principal was up there, gibbering blahblahblahschoolspiritblaheveryonedogoodonyourtestsblahblah or whatever like he always did, but...there was a police officer up there with him this time. And behind them, a little to one side...

Her mouth fell open, and she rounded back on Malia, furious. "What were they saying? What's she doing up there?!"

Amusement was stamped clearly on Malia's face. "I was busy talking to you. I think they said something about having cops on campus to make sure terrorists don't get us or something."

Juno's feet fell onto the polished hardwood floor of the gym and she sat up straighter as her stomach plunged. "Jesus Christ," she muttered.

"I know, right?" A new voice, from some guy sitting behind and to Juno's left. Kind of reedy...dressed dark, not goth though, just not much fashion sense. "This is how it begins. The slow whirlpool into fascism. First you got your 'protectors' on every corner...but who are they watching? Criminals? Or everyone else?" He grinned and glanced around, as if worried he was being overheard. "Next'll be cameras. Then? Martial law. Game over."

Juno stared at him, dumbfounded. Meanwhile Malia rolled her eyes. "Not everything is political, Patrick."

"Maybe. But that just makes perfect cover for when it is."

"Uh huh, and maybe you haven't been keeping up with all the shootings going on in schools? This isn't a totally bad idea."

Patrick jabbed a finger at Malia and took a breath, but Juno had had enough. "Both of you just...just shut up for a second. I want to hear this."

From all the way in back, she tried to shoot lasers out of her eyes to blast Janice off the stage. Not HURT her...because you don't hurt family...but just like blast her somewhere else. School was the only place she could get AWAY from her older sister. She couldn't be here too!

Tasha's head began to hurt...a familiar pain...an unwanted pain. Suddenly the gym melted around her. She was standing in a dark hallway with a doorway at the end of it, strangely lit around the edges of the door. She felt herself moving forward toward the door and opening it. Beyond was a science lab. The young woman cop was standing with a gun in her hand, pointing it at something in the corner of the room. Other students were there, behind her. The thing in the corner of the room suddenly leaped...it was a wolf, though it seemed somewhat human in shape.

And then it was gone. She was laying on the bench, an unfamiliar teacher holding her head, other students gathered around nervously watching.

Juno and Francis note a disturbance in the bleachers - another student seems to be having a convulsion of some sort. The principle and the teachers rush up to the convulsing girl while Captain Glivinski talks in to his radio. The vice principle starts ushering students out of the gym hurriedly, instructing them to return to class.

As the squad car rolled into the parking lot of Belmont High, a wash of nostalgia overtook Janice, a combination of elation and melancholy. To think that she had successfully 'gotten out' of this tiny berg, only to return again...

Most kids dreamed of leaving for the Big City. They all talked about how they were tired of the same-old, that they'd make something of themselves, that life was so much better anywhere else but 'here'. Janice was one of the few who actually enjoyed growing up in Belmont, and why wouldn't she? She was one of the 'cool kids'. She worked hard at her studies, had a very successful championship run as point guard for the basketball team, and managed to keep her household from falling apart after her father's return from the Afghanistan War... all before she turned 18.

Going to college seemed like it would have been a vacation, by comparison. And for a while, it was. Her basketball reputation got her into the varsity spotlight, which in turn got her into a sorority, which of course led to the sorority parties. Wild parties.

In fact, one party got so wild, they had to move it outside. And out of town. Someone had stolen a bus and had taken the party to a secluded orchard outside Boston, Janice included. No one was certain what had happened that night - some say wild dogs, some say monsters - but three lettermen and two of Janice's sorority girls lost their lives in some kind of freak attack.

The shame was too much for Janice to bear; her whole purpose in life seemed to be to help others and she couldn't help her friends when they needed her most. She quit the basketball team and, the very next semester, transferred to Boston College's police department. There, she trained to become a police officer and swore that she would never let down her friends again.

Around the same time that Janice graduated, she got word of some kind of mysterious deaths that were happening back in Belmont. Her mother was also worried that Janice's sister, Juno, might be getting involved with one of the local gangs. Janice took these as a sign and arranged for her first posting to be in Belmont. She took the summer to get her affairs in order, then met her commanding officer in Belmont: one Captain Glivinski.

Captain Glivinski came up with the brilliant idea of stationing Janice at the school. Janice looked young and 'green' enough that her presence wouldn't disturb the students too much, and Janice would have eyes-on intel on any possible gang activity on school grounds. Plus, having someone in an official capacity to wield a gun would be helpful should anything... unusual... happen.

The Captain's voice snapped Janice from her reverie. She scanned the throng of students, spotted Juno glaring daggers at her. She was about to give her the "I'm watching you" hand gesture when, suddenly, someone in the bleachers started going into convulsions. Janice leapt to the podium, shouted, "Clear a path!" into the microphone, then darted across the gym towards the fallen student.

Owen walked into the assembly with the the thoughts of going back to class. He never really like these things,especially since he was new to this school.He instantly noticed the kids had already grouped into there small groups so he just found an empty bleacher seat and sat down look at the podium where what looked like the principal and two police officers where standing. Oh great first day of school and we cops here Owen thought to himself.

As the Principal walked to the stand and starting giving her speech,Owen took a scan of the crowd again he notices a girl tip over water bottle and he chuckles to himself at the aftermath of what happened.Then he realizes that the principal is done talking and now one of the cops is up there now. Owen halfheartedly listens to him hmm "new program"sounds like a babysitting thing to me.
Just as the cop seems to be finishing up the girl that spilled the water bottle started shaking and convulsing on the bleacher three rows down. Owen jumped up and went down to see what was happening.

[sblock= Once Upon A Time, In LA]

That was the first time that she remembered it really happening, the first time it was clear that something strange was really going on, that something was WRONG... She was seven, up on the set for the 'Family Room'- they were filming on the 'Kitchen' set at that point, and Tasha (or really, 'Natalie', then) was just flopped on the oversized couch, playing with some of the flash cards one of her tutors had assigned. Her stage mom, basically a Production Assistant who had drawn the babysitter assignment, was perched on a nearby chair, doing her own reading for one of her film school classes. In her mind's eye, Tasha remembered the brief bright flash of light, like a TV set winking on- and suddenly she wasn't seeing the couch, or the flash cards, anymore. She was in the other room, watching them set up, like a camera was beaming things right into her brain. She could see her two TV dads, Donny and Marco, perched in their chairs as they waited for the take- they were idly chatting over some audition Donny was going to, and a party they had both been at last weekend; "Natalie' hadn't understood half of the words they were using, but she got the basic ideas very clearly. Tasha knew most of those words, and some of them made her rather uncomfortable, even in a years-old memory. There was another flickering flash ("Changing channels"), and she could see her real mom and dad- which was weird, because at this time of day they were usually miles apart at their various jobs; even stranger, they were arguing, loudly and viciously, something they never did when Tasha was around... She couldn't help it, she was seven... She screamed, the piercing clarion only a child can produce- and instantly she was back on the set, back on the couch, amidst a blizzard of still-airborne flash cards... [/sblock]


AT THE ASSEMBLY

Tasha had only a brief moment of regret, as she recognized the flickering flash that preceded her "episodes". 'Mom is going to be p..." It had been nearly a year since she had one this clear, this bad- the therapy really had been helping, but Dr. Caldwell had warned her that emotional overload (like trying to get through the first day at a new school) might bring on another flare. It would have been nice if it had waited, instead of totally destroying her social life forever by happening in front of everybody, but... Tasha retained just enough control to flop sideways onto the bleachers, instead of toppling right to the floor- but then the vision took her.

She tried to focus, using the techniques she had been learning- and it worked, sort of. She wasn't sure if the scene was supposed to be here- she hadn't seen the labs yet. But Dr. Caldwell had discussed 'subconscious recognition' and 'image substitution' and so on, using some dream therapy ideas to compare the visions to. Just as quickly as it had happened, the vision passed. Tasha was looking up, blinking against the harsh overhead lights of the gym- she thought she heard the whispered word "Wolf", but wasn't sure if she had really heard it, or if it was her own voice whispering... One hand reached out, in a gentle waving motion instead of the harsh jerkiness of a normal seizure- and she didn't feel the harsh burr in her throat that accompanied a screaming fit, so that was probably good. She managed to get her vision to focus- there was a teacher leaning over her, and behind him she could see the principal and the female cop. Tasha took a deep steadying breath. "Sorry, I'm sorry... No nurse. I think I'm okay" she managed in a weak voice, then her gaze shifted directly to the cop. "I think we're going to be glad to have you here, Janice, I mean Officer Reyes..." (which was a little odd, as Tasha was pretty sure she hadn't know the woman's first name a moment ago). She managed a weak smile, and fought down the urge to look around the room, to see if she 'recognized' anyone else.





[sblock= OOC] Concentration 1d20+3= 13, trying to focus on remembering the vision (just using the roll to give me some direction, more than anything else); roll http://www.coyotecode.net/roll/lookup.php?rollid=112916 [/sblock]

(Thank you...)

Absorbed in alternately practicing mnemonics for the teachers names and beating herself into stretching her attention span to its breaking point, Francis was instantly distracted by the activity and grateful for it. This feeling soon dissolved as she recognized the source to be a girl down in front of her having some kind of fit, shifting to the kind of uneasy curiosity that only appears when the question "are they dying?" is on the table.

Luckily, they weren't. The episode was over quick enough and the teachers (and police) had it under control. She was probably bad for thinking it, but Francis couldn't help the happy feeling that that student's misfortune had bought an end to the droning and some extra time to fill before class.

A few seats away, some kids were already giggling and twitching in an ironic attempt to ridicule to mentally handicapped. Something about that irked Francis. Maybe the distant yet bleeding-fresh memory of being laughed at for poor speech. It took a special kind of mean to mock someone for what they were, especially when they'd probably give anything to change.

She made a point to rudely elbow by them on the way across the aisle. Not the most mature, but satisfying.

It was easy enough to spot Juno toward the back of the gym. She was...well, a presence. An angel's baby sister who wanted keys to the underworld, and Francis had to play gatekeeper. Why anyone with a choice wanted in was hard to say, but not her business. Francis waved to her, trying to peel her away from the others.

"I talked to my dad's company," she began quickly and quietly, in a smooth, nearly undefinable accent. "You're...hired. Probably errands at first, intern stuff. Tell me if you have trouble. I can help."

When the commotion erupted, Malia naturally stood up to get a better look. "Hey," she said, "some girl's having a fit over there or something."

Juno shrugged, but her face darkened when Janice, of course, decided to play superhero and run over. She got to her feet, not sure if she was going to walk out, or walk over and razz her sister for being such a...such a...she didn't even know the word!

But then Francis made up her mind for her.

"Hey, Mal...Pat...you guys take it easy. I'll talk to you later okay?" She let Francis lead her away.

Once they were a little ways over, and all attention was away from them and on the hero of the hour, Juno gave Fran a wry grin and asked, "What's with the spy stuff? Do I get like, one of those little wristwatch lasers too? C'mon."

Grinning, she shook her head, but got a bit more serious and asked, "So what do they want me to do? Or do I gotta see someone else now? You're just a recruiter or something?"