Walking down the sidewalk at a brisk pace, no one would be able to spot Trent Ward as a mutant at first glance. Dressed in a full suit and pulling a wheeled metallic suitcase behind him, Trent could pass himself off for an overworked corporate-type on a business trip any day of the week; hell, he'd done it time and time again... and that was just the way the young man wanted it at the moment. Thankfully, passersby failed to notice that the briefcase(full of the man's few belongings: three suits and an assortment of ties) wasn't actually touching his hand. Because of the mutation causing this effect, the practical laundry list of others that came along with his 'curse', and the recent attention it had garnered him, Mr. Ward was at a high level of frustration; Trent's latest troubles within New York City had culminated in the loss of his previous residence on an almost ironically bad note. Just as luck would have it, he had acquired directions to a mutant safe house within the sprawling metropolis, a location to place his affairs in order before making other arrangements. And, if his directions were correct, this 'Sanctuary' wouldn't be much farther ahead.

Should the flyers he'd seen be any indication, the Sanctuary would be a place where mutants were welcome just as much if not more than humans. Yet, from his own experiences, Ward was uncertain if that would actually be the case.Oh, sure, there were supposedly many people who were just fine with the existence, and even the presence, of mutants. Or at least, that's what they'd tell you. Shame that it wasn't always the truth. Imbalanced emotions and suppressed resentment never were quite the best of bed partners.

Several blocks and half a dozen mental tirades later, Trent came into view of an odd site. A massive building with a small multitude of people loitering near its...its golden doors? Ward had certainly heard that the building he was looking for would have gold doors, but the mutant thought it was simply the color, not the material. Though, this was New York... should anything surprise him by now?With nothing but several hundred yards and an intersection between him and the possibility of a free place to stay, the mutant picked up his pace..

. o O (Murphy's Law, #14: Should anyone ever be in a hurry, all traffic lights between current and desired locations will block access indefinitely.)

Waiting at the intersection's crosswalk with his goal directly in front of him, Ward couldn't help but tap his foot impatiently. Seconds drug on into hours, and the silence of his 'prison' become almost deafening. Traffic be damned, Trent wasn't going to wait on a light all day... this place probably had a wait to get in. Much to the bewilderment of onlookers, the young man stepped out into the street, picking up his brisk stride across the intersection; through the incoming traffic. Pulling his suitcase behind him, Ward caught a bright flash of light out of the corner of his eye, causing him to turn reflexively towards it; after all, sight was the only sense he always had to rely on. Stopping momentarily, Trent tilted his head curiously as a sedan slammed into him. The car's front right quarter panel caved in around him, causing a flurry of various materials to spray across the intersection; the event was mildly entertaining from a first person perspective, actually. Ward's position did not shift in the slightest, as the field surrounding his body countered and absorbed the impact of the vehicle reflexively. And to top it all off, he'd just obtained enough energy to satiate his 'fix' for the next day..

Stifling a light snicker, the mutant realized only a few seconds too late that the flash he'd seen must've been sun reflecting off of this poor fellow's windshield. With a quick glance to make sure the driver was still alive (though he was in a state of shock at the sight), Trent turned his attention to the clothes covering his kinetic shell. Of course, there were a few threads lose to be expected, but nothing major, and he was certainly lucky not to ruin his suit with motor oil. Readjusting his tie before brushing a turn signal off of his shoulder, Ward turned and once again began walking in the direction of the interesting golden doors with no regard for the small crowd of pedestrians and the backed up traffic. Whether it was a side effect of the overflow of energy coursing through his body now, or real excitement at the possibility of finally meeting other mutants like him, Trent was excited to the point that all other surroundings seemed to fade away from the Sanctuary. Perhaps he was simply happy to feel liberated from his old lifestyle of 'laying low'...after all, he'd already been exposed as a mutant, so why should he be worried whether or not his power was seen? No matter, though; it would have been rude if he went into the safe house and involuntarily discharged energy. Dispersing the kinetic energy of the car crash out of his shell, Ward created a gust-like shock wave that blew across the intersection towards the group of onlookers from almost a hundred yards away, but the surge was lacking enough force to actually harm any of them.

As Ward approached the golden doors of the Sanctuary with his (now-wobbling) suitcase in tow, his lips curled into a broad, almost devilish smile. Millions of thoughts and curious inquiries were running through his mind, and at the moment most of them were positive. Yet, above the multitude rose a single question: ”How do I get in?”

Paperwork. Isabel hated paperwork. True, she had voluntarily taken up her current task, but she'd underestimated her level of dislike for it. It was also true that in doing her paperwork, she wasn't actually filling out papers, but in her mind it might as well have been the same. Currently she was sitting in the Foyer, leafing through the small stack of papers she'd brought with her. She had decided that she wanted to help Lisa out a little by going around and gathering up any loose residential forms that hadn't been turned in yet, whether that hadn't been filled out at all by that point, or if they had been filled out but were forgotten and tucked away somewhere for later retrieval. The reasons why she wanted to help Lisa out were about as muddled as all the papers in her lap. Part of her really did want to help the Secretary out, since she was stuck behind her desk all day doing whatever it was she did. The rest of her was probably doing it for more selfish reasons. Everyone liked being in Lisa's good graces. It was still largely unknown if she had a mutation of some sort, but she did handle most of the workload for the Sanctuary and helped to keep things running smoothly. Maybe with a little helpful persuasion, it would also get her to stop using Isabel's last name.

She was nearly done alphabetizing the forms when she heard a loud screech and crash coming from outside. It didn't take a genius to figure out that noises were created by a car accident. Grinning widely in her gratitude for the distraction, she quickly gathered up the papers and moved to place them neatly on Lisa's desk where the Receptionist would do with them whatever it was she did with the forms. Filing most likely. Possibly mutant filing. While a car wreck wasn't as fun as going out and causing damage herself, she still couldn't help but be interested in the after effects of a crash. Usually the casualties were human. She'd noticed that most mutants tended to walk or take a cab to their destinations, for whatever reasons they had. She hadn't met too many that drove themselves. Human casualties she tended to enjoy. She was perhaps one of the more violent members of the Order and strongly believed that the fewer humans there were crawling around, the closer they'd be to reaching their goals. She just couldn't understand why the combination of mutant killings and self injuries hadn't wiped them out yet.

"Sorry, I nearly finished the papers, but not quite. Sounds like there's a crash on our street. I have to go make us look good. You know, make a phone call, get an ambulance, comfort whoever," she offered as an explanation to Lisa, completely making it up as she went. The skeptical look from the Receptionist clearly showing that they both knew it was complete nonsense. She simply grinned and made her way over to the large golden doors. Pulling open one of the large doors and moving to step out onto the street, she nearly barreled into an individual standing on their front steps. Quickly taking a few steps back, she placed herself just inside the now open doorway. Letting her gaze flicker from the young man before her down to the smoking mass of twisted metal in the street, across the onlookers and back, she proceeded to cross her arms and lean a shoulder against one side of the entrance. "That's some crash out there," she commented, grinning up at the young man. "Either these people all think you're particularly weird looking, or you've had something to do with that accident. Might I ask what brings you to our lovely home in such style?"

Trent certainly hadn't expected a quick response. The set of massive doors not only swung open, but gave way to a young woman who seemed to be in her late teens or early twenties, not unlike himself. The presence of the woman caught him off guard almost as much as her appearance: due to the amount of frills, ribbons, and bows on her person, Ward couldn't help as he related her outfit to some sort of gift-wrapping. Though, it might not have even been safe just thinking something like that.. for all he knew this woman could turn his brain into play-doh. Catching himself as she was backing away to a comfortable distance, Ward set his focus onto manipulating the shell around his body enough to actually hear what was going on. Taking a slow breath, the mutant tried to hide his concentration from the young woman. Whether or not he was successful in his endeavor, he'd hardly know.... yet as always, the flood of noise that came through when trying to rein in his power was always such a bittersweet, savory moment; teetering delicately on the line between over stimulation and ecstasy at the return of his only other functioning sense, the echoing sounds of the city's bustle and his recently caused event reached his ears only a split second before the woman greeted him with a grin similar to the one still strewn across his face.

Replying back to the stranger with a mixture of amusement and feigned ignorance as he looked over his shoulder to the intersection, the mutant's baritone voice was blended with a peculiar echo, ”Strange, isn't it? You'd think that New Yorkers see traffic accidents all the time...maybe I just have that affect on people?” Turning his gaze back to the woman resting casually against the gold door frame, Trent continued on in a (slightly) more straightforward manner. ” I've heard that this lovely home of yours provides shelter to mutants who seek it. If that's really the case, I'm looking to sign up for a few reasons. Though...concerning the style of my arrival, you wouldn't happen to have a problem with property damage, would you?”

Ward still couldn't figure it out. Was it excitement or just an energy high? This was the first time since he'd been in New York (hell, since he could remember) that he was actually enjoying talking instead of limiting himself... and he had no intentions of losing access to this feeling now that he'd gotten a taste of it. Regardless, Trent couldn't be rude to his hostess; the young man introduced himself, bowing his head lightly in recognition after a moment's pause with a mild grin still accenting his pleasant expression. ”Trent Ward. Pleasure to meet you, miss. I hope I'm not being too much of a bother.”

Again Isabel cast a glance down at the crowd as the young man before her did the same. She could hear sirens sounding off from somewhere in the distance, perhaps a few blocks away. She was sure the police would just love catching her out on the street. They'd probably love it even more if they were able to take a few shots at her. To them, she was sure she'd look quite ravishing with a bullet in her forehead. They never had taken too kindly to her after the Sanctuary Massacre. It was a shame really. They were her favorite play mates, after all. And as much as she'd love to meet them down at the scene of the accident after she'd poked through the scraps, she had company she had to attend to. Not that she particularly minded. She had promised a certain Orderling that she'd try to stay out of trouble with the police anyways.

Letting her attention drift back to the newcomer as he spoke, she couldn't help noting the peculiar tone that echoed the words. It was almost as if there were two of him speaking. Since he was also at the Sanctuary's doorsteps, she figured it was safe to assume he was a mutant as well. "It seems to be a general rule that people in a large group have to become mentally deficient, especially in such circumstances. It's a shame they never rewrote that rule," she commented, shifting her weight slightly to change the main area of pressure set against her shoulder. "You've heard correctly, my good man. We'd be glad to have you aboard," she replied, briefly glancing back at Lisa, knowing this would mean more paperwork for the woman, though since she'd done her good deed for the day she didn't feel nearly as bad about it. Turning back to the young man, she simply smirked as his last inquiry concerning damaged property. "This is a home for mutants, some of them quite hazardous to their surroundings. Property damage is hardly unexpected." She most certainly did her own fair share of damage, though she tried not to harm anything within the Sanctuary, with the exception of whatever was in her own room. Her brand of trouble tended to take place elsewhere in the city.

"A pleasure to meet you, Trent. My name's Isabel, and you're not bothering anyone. Well, with the exception of that driver perhaps," she responded. Straightening her posture and turning to take a few steps inside the Foyer, she motioned for her newest acquaintance to enter as well. There was no need for him to continue waiting on their doorstep. "If you plan on living here, there's a few residential forms you'll have to fill out. Nothing major, just the basics. We like to keep a record of everyone who has spent time here. You don't have to fill any out right away, but they do have to be done at some point," she explained, giving a smile to Lisa in the process. By now the papers that had been placed on her desk were long gone and put in their proper places while the Secretary went about typing on her computer. "And what exactly is your mutation, if you don't mind my asking. The car crash has me curious."

Trent acknowledged Isabel's replies with a pleased nod, optimistic as he thought of the possibilities at a location such as this. Welcoming of mutants, and whatever hazards may come along with them? It was almost as if it was too good to be true! As the woman stepped away from the door and welcomed him in, the mutant's mind couldn't help wandering to her responses; while she seemed to have an outwardly pleasant demeanor and an interesting sense of humor, the two qualities didn't quite mesh up. Her grinning references to a car crash that he caused and the mental deficiencies of a herd mentality? Ward doubted that an official rep would make comments such as that. It was obvious that there were more layers to this woman than the outwardly polite hostess facade, and the more the better. The mutant had been socially isolated for so long that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

The young man stepped into the foyer as per Isabel's invitation, his battered suitcase squeaking as he pulled it wobbling along in tow. Its noise was apparent after suppressing his shell, and it took all he had not to snicker at the dilapidated item. Casting a sidelong glance with an impish smirk towards his hostess, Trent interjected with more amused banter, ”Well Isabel, it's a very good thing I'm not asking that driver for a place to stay, eh?” As the woman mentioned a signup process, Trent absently scanned over the rest of the foyer. Were it not for the sheer astonishment which the mutant had at the sight of a set of golden doors, he may have been impressed by the decorations. Noting the receptionist and the veritable mound of paperwork surrounding her, the young man smiled towards the woman and lifted his hand in a curt wave. Ward was certain that he'd be spending his time trying to fill out the paperwork later, after he lost control of the shell again and was stuck in 'time out' for the rest of the day as a deaf-mute...

As the conversation changed to the topic of his own mutation, Trent's attention turned fully to Isabel. Simply asking the question made the young man realize that he'd never actually said what his mutation was, and he had to spend a split second quelling the flood of thoughts that poured into his mind. Looking intently at Isabel, Ward chuckled quietly under his breath, as if trying to hold back full-blown laughter. Yet, despite the ridiculous feeling of what he was going to say, he was interested to see the woman's reaction... did he want hints about her true nature, or was he simply curious to see the expression on someone's face? ”Funny you should ask. Among other things, I'm untouchable.” After a brief moment's pause, the man heaved his shoulders into a casual shrug, ”Now, if you don't mind some prying on my end, what exactly goes on here? Is this place some sort of Club Med mutant style? And what do you do? 'Hope you'll excuse me, but you don't quite strike me as the PR type..”

"To think the two of you could have been such great friends," Isabel replied, infusing her tone with a hint of faux regret, though her expression hardly matched, her wide grin still decorating her features. Passively she kept track of Trent as he took in his surroundings and gave a small wave to Lisa. She could still remember her first day in the Sanctuary. Everything had been so much more lush and decadent than she had ever been used to. She'd practically made a b-line for Lisa's desk, she was so eager to sign up for whatever it was Mister King had been offering. The prospect of getting to live in such a place was almost impossible to believe. It hadn't been too much later that she'd learned the real reason behind the man's generous offer to allow anyone, mutants especially, to live in such a place. Not that she ever complained about his reasons. She was one of the very first to join in, and she hadn't yet strayed.

The small chuckle at her question concerning what Trent's powers were certainly caught her attention, causing her to raise an eyebrow in curiosity. Not many people laughed, or prevented themselves from laughing, while explaining what it was they could do. On the contrary, a large number of mutants seemed almost sullen when it came to discussing what made them stand out from what was considered to be normal society. The offer he provided only raised more questions. Her lower lip stuck out a little at the lack of a clear answer, a small pout replacing her former grin. She was used to getting what she wanted. It was no fair when people didn't cooperate. Well, two could certainly play at that game.

"Around here, we attend to the needs of those that seek shelter here. Mutants, mostly. There's been some bad publicity surrounding this place, so humans tend to be a little iffy about coming to live here. I guess it is kind of like a hotel, but that doesn't make it any less of a home," she replied, deciding that it would be one of the fewer more straight forward answers she'd be giving. "As for me," she continued, returning his small shrug, "I do a little of this, a little of that. Among other things, I'm just about indestructible. Because of that, I don't waste too much time making flowery speeches or playing nice with people. It may very well be why the public doesn't exactly care for me. But I have fun."

Well, that certainly wasn't what he had expected. Of all the possible responses the mutant had considered to his statement, he hadn't actually considered a pouting expression as one of them. Was he not clear enough? Did his sort of power have some sort of negative connotation within the mutant world, or was the woman simply expecting it to be something more specialized, like the ability to cause random traffic accidents? Quirking a brow in confusion at the gesture, Ward remained silent as he mulled over his own thoughts during the brief moment before Isabel spoke up. Perhaps he would simply be better off giving a demonstrative 'crash course' to his fellow mutant as an explanation instead of using words. Lord knew that it had taken him far too long to piece together all the nuances of his 'gift' and come up with some logical explanations for it outside of “I've lost my damned mind.”

As Isabel began responding to his inquiries Ward took the opportunity to pace about the room, leaving his broken suitcase in position and walking the the perimeter of the foyer with a drawn out gait. The mutant basked in the luxurious ambiance of the room, and smiled pleasantly to himself as the woman's words echoed through the shell surrounding his body at a lower volume. It never ceased to amaze Trent how thoroughly he enjoyed the small nuances in sounds now that he was so often deprived them. Despite his movement, the young man made a point to keep Isabel within his field of vision as she spoke, which was fairly easy to do; sight being his only constantly active sense, Ward's peripheral awareness was sharper than most humans and he made use of it frequently.

Yet again, the woman's words had piqued Trent's interests. While her explanation concerning what actually happened in the Sanctuary wasn't much different than her introduction, there were a few more pieces to add to the overall puzzle. Bad publicity? Being indestructible? Public not caring for her much? Was that Isabel's reason for pouting at his mention of being untouchable, because he might be similar to her in some way? This was one of those times Ward wished that he could have actually stayed current with news; until now, however, it was too much of a pain to find a good way to keep updated just to listen to depressing stories about negative mutant events all over the world... wait, was THAT what she was talking about? Regardless, the only way Trent would get any answers was to ask questions, and it certainly wasn't as if he could keep up the conversation all day... even if he wanted to.

Still pacing about the foyer's edge, the mutant's reverberating voice carried across the room as he glanced towards Isabel.”For someone who doesn't play nice, you seem good enough at it. But you must have one crazy brand of fun, if the public doesn't care for you and the Sanctuary gets a bad name because of it.” Coming to a halt, Trent shifted casually on his heel, walking across the center of the foyer back towards his host while continuing to talk, ”By the way, that face really doesn't suit you Miss Isabel. Is it because of what I said about my power? If you don't like it, that would just about make two of us. From what I can see, your indestructibility doesn't seem like it gets in your way too much... does it? Because mine sure as hell does. Would you be happier seeing for yourself? I show you mine if you show me yours, eh?” Ward's lips once again curled into a devilish smirk as he came to a stop on the opposite side of his busted suitcase. If the woman's brand of fun was anything like what he assumed, perhaps the offer would change her sulking expression.

Lazily Isabel followed her newest acquaintance with her eyes as he moved away from her and went about pacing around the room. This must have been what it was like for a mouse to be circled by a cat, with one large difference. Unlike a mouse, she was unafraid of Trent Ward, the brief description of his mutation merely catching her interest, rather than intimidating her. She was sure it wasn't his intention to do so, anyhow. It was just strange to be the one circled, rather than being the one that was playing the role of the predator.

She gave a pleasant smile as Trent began speaking again, nearly laughing at his very first set of comments. "I'm very good at what I do, Mister Ward. If I want to seem like a good little girl, then I most certainly can play the part. It's just about always worked in the past. My innocent act even got me out of a minor conviction." She was quite the actress when a situation called for it. There had been plenty of time afforded to her for practice, though once she was well enough known by people, like her friends at the Sanctuary, it was a bit easier to see when an act was being played. They knew her too well to believe that she was the gentle little lamb she pretended to be.

As her guest crossed the room in order to move toward his previous position nearer to her, she quietly watched and quirked a brow as he spoke again. "It isn't that I don't like your mutation. It sounds like it might be very interesting. There's just so much to be desired from a description like 'untouchable'. I usually get a lot more detail than that. It's not nice to leave someone guessing like that," she replied, replacing her pout once more as if in spite of his opinion on how it suited her. "My mutation doesn't hinder me at all, no. At least, not physically. My reputation is rather well known, mostly because of what I can do and have done with my abilities." She was curious to see what Ward meant in saying he was hindered by his mutation. With the exception of a slight echo in his voice, he didn't seem like he was very hindered. And she certainly couldn't pass up the offer of a demonstration. Likewise she couldn't bring herself to refuse the opportunity to show off a little at the same time. "A demonstration sounds like fun. After you, my dear Ward."

Leaning over enough to press his weight against his suitcase's handle with the kinetic field around his body acting as a buffer, Trent tilted his head to one side as Isabel explained her own sense of 'mutation explanation etiquette'. The young man even had to bite back a snicker at the thought, before mulling over her sparse hints of a background. Ward couldn't say he was surprised that her behavior was just an act she could switch on and off like a light bulb; hell, most women had that sort of 'super power'... although, he was certainly wondering what the conviction may've been for. While Trent's expression still showed interest the woman answered his question, his mind and body were strangely restless for the same reason that he had found himself pacing around the foyer: he simply couldn't sit still for the time being. Ward was at the maximum amount of energy his shell could store without release, and unfortunately his attitude and behavior were affected in turn. He'd only experienced this sort of residual effect two times since his mutation manifested, both in early attempts to commit suicide(first with a gun, later when jumping off of a building). Looking back, Trent couldn't figure out why it had taken him so long to come around to the fact that he was a mutant. Was it the realization that he had already lost it all, or coming across another mutant who freely used his powers in the open that had pushed him out of his paranoia?

Rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands still 'resting' atop the suitcase, Ward darted his eyes towards the item as a glimpse at what he had meant by untouchable. Despite never making contact, the handle was shifting in time with his motion, as if he was actually holding it. Rolling his head to the opposite angle, the mutant mimicked Isabel's second pout as he spoke up in his reverberating voice, ”I hope you'll forgive me, that was my first time actually saying anything about my mutation. I'll make a memo to come up with something more detailed for next time...though, I do like a bit of mystery.” The pout disappeared from his face only to be replaced by the day's trademark grin just as Trent continued on, ”And, sorry for living underneath a rock, but what exactly have you done with your abilities that you keep referring to?

Having already asked everything he could've desired at the time, and even receiving the okay for a demonstration session with Isabel, Ward wheeled around quickly towards the nearest door with a literal bounce in his step. The burden pressed on him for allowing echoes to pass through the barrier was beginning to edge at Trent, and his desire for a brief reprieve from the process was growing. The mutant was looking forward to the walk around the Sanctuary compound to give himself time to ease the burden on his mind, though he wouldn't have bothered mentioning it out loud. Tugging his suitcase quickly to rest against a wall, Trent left the item standing in place as he stepped with one foot forward through one of the foyer's doors to the rest of the compound...or was it? Looking back over his shoulder towards Isabel, Ward's brow lifted in mock embarrassment.

”Eh, after me to where? First timer here, remember?

"I suppose mystery can be fun," she replied, smirking a little at the imitation pout the young man wore. "I'm just more used to getting what I ask for. I guess I'm a little spoiled that way, but you can't really blame someone for pampering themselves sometimes." Or maybe a little more than sometimes. She tended to make sure she was well taken care of, though it didn't exactly hurt that she not only lived in a place like the Sanctuary, but was also a member of a faction that had no problem with knocking down a bank or two every now and again. She never really needed anything, she just liked to prove that she could have mostly whatever she wanted. There were few people that could get in her way to stop her. Well, perhaps with the exception of her friends. She tended to behave better for them than she did for anyone else.

The second question posed simply gained a knowing smirk from the bow wearing young woman. He really had been under a rock if he hadn't heard a few rumors about her at least. Though, not everyone watched the news. She hardly ever even opened a newspaper herself. It was all just so boring, and there was never anything good about mutants in their pages. The business of humans hardly interested her unless it would result in producing a bit of fun for the Order. "Like I said, minor convictions. Like wiping out half of New York's police force, if not more. A murder charge didn't stick for very long, though. I got off as Innocent," she finally answered, grinning widely at the memory of it. After the few news crews had leaked out footage of her and the Giant, rumors of her murderous tendencies had become a little more than rumors, though since the first Trial she hadn't so much as been charged a second time. Briefly she watched as he started moving again, wondering just how long he'd sat still throughout the conversation thus far. "How about checking out the Training Room? If we want to give demonstrations of our abilities, that's probably the best place to go. No one'll care if we bust up a few bots while we're down there."

Shaking his head lightly from side to side as he backstepped out of the doorway and moved to the side, Trent looked back in Isabel's direction. If what she had said was true, then that explained another level of her personality. Slaughtering half a police force... and New York's police force at that... but if she wasn't convicted of murder, either she had friends who could change someone's mind or she was provoked. Either way, he'd end up believing it wasn't her fault, wouldn't he? But, what exactly could cause someone to go off the deep end that badly? She seemed to have some semblance of composure, so it wasn't likely that the woman was completely mental. Something came to mind that he had heard during his travels, while staying in London...

With a deep sigh, Trent's expression became solemn and his shoulders slumped momentarily from their previous posture. Looking Isabel directly in the eyes, the mutant spoke up in a lower tone, ”By living under a rock, I meant I've been in Europe for almost the past two years. I remember something about the registration business that went on here... if you were mixed up in those camps I'm surprised the other half's still alive.” Falling quiet as he looked down to the tiled floor, Ward shook his head before looking back across the room to his fellow mutant with a renewed vigor. ”Now, let's go take a look at that training room. Miss Priss needs to see a demonstration, and I've got to see how tough you people can build 'bots...wait... I'm calling bullshit on robots. But still, ladies first.” In his best impression of a butler, Trent bit back a grin as brought his legs together in a rigid posture, leaning slightly over and sweeping a hand across his torso towards the door.

Isabel's grin quickly faded as the conversation took a brief turn into a more morbid subject matter. The Camps tended to be something she avoided talking about as much as was possible. Ignoring the memories didn't make it seem like it hadn't happened, and it never would. She knew this. It was just a way to keep from consciously having to relive those experiences in her mind. "Believe it or not, but I was playing with cops long before that Act was passed," she replied, giving a half hearted smile as she spoke. "I think I would have gone after more during the Break Out, but I was occupied with one individual in particular. He's the one that threw me in jail and testified at my Trial. Pleading self defense can go a long way if you play your cards right." Having a friend with the power of persuasion didn't exactly hurt, either.

Grateful for the conversational switch back to the Training Room, she recovered her full force smile as she watched her companion step aside and give a deep bow. "Alright then, Car Wreck, follow me this way," she instructed, brushing past him as she headed through the doorway and down the corridor, passing a number of connecting hallways and rooms before reaching an elevator. "Most of our facilities are on the lower level here," she explained, waiting until they were both inside the elevator before punching in the code that would bring them down to the next floor.

Once on the bottom floor and out of the elevator, she again lead him down a few hallways before they reached their destination. The structure was larger than one might imagine would be housed in the building, providing plenty of room for those inside to move about with a good level of comfort. On an upper platform was the control room, jam packed full of buttons, switches and monitors. Though, of course, there was no need to run between separating areas of the room, as the controls could be activated through spoken command. "Now," she started, turning toward Trent as she shut the door of the room behind them, overhead lights flickering to life as she did so, "What level of difficulty would you like to test out?"

'Muting' himself after Isabel walked through the doorway, the mutant let out an unheard chuckle at the nickname tossed his way. Hopefully, the woman wouldn't be going explanations about every room they passed as it would simply be a waste of breath. As much as he was thoroughly enjoying the back and forth banter, Trent could feel his control was wavering; there was no sense in him wasting the little amount of time that he actually had capable for normal communication on a guided tour, especially when there were so many other possibilities for the day. Glancing around as he absently followed behind the bouncing bow in front of him, Ward's mind wandered back to the brief exchange before leaving the foyer. It looked like he had actually hit a nerve through the facade there for a second. Really though, it wasn't surprising... Ward had never really considered how fortunate he turned out to be when he had left America for travel abroad; not to mention no one ever thought anything of a foreigner who didn't seem to understand what they were saying.

Waiting momentarily in front of an elevator Ward watched with a polite smile as Isabel turned to him and began speaking. While he couldn't make out what she was saying, more than likely it was simply idle chatter. What else do people do when they're waiting for something? Still, the young man was certainly wishing that he'd increased his proficiency in lip-reading by now; it was the little moments like this that such an ability really came in handy. Ward nodded along curtly regardless, appearing as if he had taken the words in and simply been more interested in observing the elevator's surroundings, before shadowing the woman as the doors slid open and she stepped inside. But instead of going up, they were heading down?

More halls, more turns, and still they went onwards. Fitting, since it seemed almost as if the building held just as many interesting layers of secrets as the people who lived in it. Following his acquaintance into another room, Trent had to catch himself to prevent his jaw from dropping to the floor. They had to be several stories underground, and there was still an area this massive in the facility. Maybe the woman wasn't just kidding around when she mentioned robots.. What kind of world was Ward stepping into? Taking several steps past Isabel towards the center of the room as he unmuted his surroundings, and looked over his shoulder in her direction as she prompted him with a question. Grinning as he spoke, the young man's reverberating voice echoed throughout the facility. ”Difficulty? If this thing has a one to ten dial, crank it up to twenty. Maybe we can have a real show.”

Isabel simply gave a smug little smile at Ward's initial reaction upon entering the Training Room. It took up a large chunk of space on one of the lower levels of the Sanctuary, and may very well have been the largest room in the building. Plenty of space was given for the trainees to run around and maneuver in. Certain settings also activated holograms and could cause the floor to move like a giant treadmill, making it seem all that much bigger. She was pretty sure just about everything in this particular room moved. The bots were usually released by an opening somewhere along the walls, though others were capable of climbing or gliding and could be let out through the ceiling. She'd even seen a few come through the floor once.

Her smug smile turned into an approving grin at the reply she was given concerning the training level. "Tough guy, huh? Makes sense, I suppose, after seeing what you did to that car," she commented, turning her attention over to the command center of the room. "Computer," she called, only needing to wait a moment before a synthetic voice answered her call, asking what it was the two wanted. "We'd like to start a training simulation. We'll start out at level nine and work our way up. Be sure to monitor vitals and listen for further requests." It wasn't the level that had been asked for, but she figured it was a good place to start. Even a level in the single digits could prove challenging, especially for those not used to playing with the room.

A few beeps and a brief buzz were the only reply she got before the hologram generators kicked into action, transforming the room into a city landscape, complete with pedestrians milling around and traffic clogging the streets. Even though they weren't actually what they were made to appear as, they were still solid and could get in the way or be used to one's advantage with a little imagination. "There's bots mixed in with those people, kid," she spoke, moving out of the way of a passing business man. "Lasers, explosives, blades. They've got all kinds of goodies. We just have to kill them before they do it to us first."

[OOC]Sorry for the poor form or massive post size... both the writer and the character got carried away. [/OOC]

Moving his gaze back and forth quickly about the room as Isabel spoke to the machine, Trent's eyes widened when the scene unfolded out of thin air right before him. What was a massive, bare room only a few moments ago was now a bustling city street, right down to the crappy Manhattan traffic and a hot dog vendor across the corner. He'd heard of a lot of things, but it seemed almost like the technology here could be nearly as advanced as mutants. With that train of thought, Ward's mind couldn't help but wander for a brief moment whether or not there was any technology that could replicate his power. Despite never actually testing the limits of his mutation, if nothing else he felt more than safe trapped within his kinetic shield. Let this box throw its worst at him, he'd take it head on... but, would he do it because he had confidence in his abilities as a mutant, or because he wanted something to find something that could break it? Either way, he was grinning from ear to ear as Isabel began speaking of the opponent's arsenal. The mutant didn't turn back to make a witty remark towards the woman about killing a machine or even bother correcting her about being called a kid, because his emotions at the time were filled with the same sort of elation that a nine year old might display. Ward ran forward like a kid in a candy store, directly into the middle of the street. It was playtime.

As the young man waited for something to attack him, he glanced over to Isabel with a light, preoccupied smile. ”I know I said ladies first earlier, but I'm a bit spoiled and impatient now myself. Lemme' play with this round by myself, so you can get a good look at what I meant.” Releasing his control over the barrier's sound, Trent made an impish winking gesture towards Isabel before trying to find the opponents.

Spinning about in a circle for some sign of a hiding robot, Trent failed to notice the hot dog stand rise up on two legs and straighten itself into a more humanoid form. If he would've seen that, there would no doubt have been a flurry of amazed expletives, pointing fingers, and references to 'Transformos'. But alas, all Ward saw as he turned around was an anti-personnel grenade flying his way from a projectile launcher. Trent couldn't help involuntarily wincing a split second before the explosive made 'contact', discharging in a massive plume of combusted flames, smoke, and shrapnel debris. Death by 'dog, smoked by smokies, there were countless amounts of horrendous puns that could have described Trent Ward's fate at the hands of the training robot...were he not a mutant. Instead, the man walked forward out of the smoke cloud, waving his hand in front of his face to clear his vision. Snickering in silence, Ward spotted the assailant and began walking towards it with a grin.

Not only could his shell negate the explosive burst from the grenade, but it absorbed the energy discharged. The more this robot tried to hurt him, the more Trent could lay into it. Good thing he didn't have to share all his little secrets before playing along, right? Oddly enough, the system AI didn't seem to like Trent's slow pace. Whether this setting was more the aggressor or was running multiple scenario outcomes, the robot continued discharging the grenade launcher indiscriminately into the illusionary street towards the mutant. This sort of encounter was strangely similar to the one that led him to finding the Sanctuary, where a teenage mutant randomly started throwing explosive marbles at him for pure amusement. Yet, this was even better. The robot didn't try anything else. Was it trying to smoke him out, cloud his vision, or simply blow him up? Shame none of those would really work.

Still, Ward found his answer soon enough. A brilliant surge of energy poured in through the back of the mutant's kinetic shield, enough to give him a brief shiver of pleasure. That HAD to be a laser.. it would be a while before Trent would forget that pure 'taste'. Closing his eyes as another grenade round struck into his shield in unison with a laser strike strike from the unseen robot, the mutant could feel a part of him yearning to bask in the flow of the energy. Sure, he needed energy to survive, but this much would just discharge after a few minutes, right? A third barrage shook him out of the brief reverie, and Ward looked over his shoulder to see a faint tracer light beaded onto him through the smoke. By now, Ward felt like he could tear the toys to shreds, as much energy as he had gained within the last few moments. And that was just what he planned to do...

Turning his attention back to the grenadier, Ward took a few more steps towards forward with a much more frightening expression covering his visage. No sense using quick movements; the thing might try to run anyway. Absorbing another explosion point-blank towards the face, the mutant simply curled his lips into a sadistic smile, before surging some of the stolen energy –almost four grenades worth-- into his arm. Using a discharge of kinetic energy to propel his arm forward at an alarming velocity, the mutant punched through the robot's chest. Savoring the moment as the construct's limbs twitched violently, another beam fired from the laser-toting toy was soaked up by his shell, this time in the back of his head. Ward wanted more of that... Looking back over his shoulder and licking his lips, Trent discharged the remained the alloted energy in his arms in an outward burst in all directions; with his hand in the middle of the robot's torso, the result was ..messy. As the area's smoke blew away from the force, broken parts of scrap metal and shrapnel skidded across the floor, and a misty spray of oil hit the field in front of Trent's face before sliding down, pulled by gravity.

Now Ward was fully consumed in the moment. Despite his jacket, shirt, and tie having been blown to mere ribbons through his stunt, he had not even noticed. If Isabel was saying something, he couldn't hear her and he probably wouldn't have listened anyway. Leveling his eyes towards the sniper, he saw the humanoid form that appeared to have a guitar flicker momentarily before appearing as a robot. Though the unit was smaller than the other one, it certainly had precision fireworks...but no matter. Bursting forward with the remaining energy built up from the grenade barrage, Ward darted forward at a speed he could have never imagined moving in his entire life; but he wasn't imagining, nor even thinking. He had practically given into the moment and entered a 'bloodlust'. While moving, something flashed out of the corner of his eye, and slammed into Trent's shell. While the mutant's body was moved off course, the shell almost reflexively corrected itself by countering the motion with a light discharge of kinetic energy against the ground. Sending his body into a brief spin from the action, Trent whirled towards the direction of the attack. Before him stood another robot that apparently had been disguised as a motorcycle, which each of its arms ending in a violently spinning bladed wheel. That wasn't the toy Ward wanted.

As it went to lunge at him with both blade-arms swinging in wide arcing movements, the mutant's lips curled into a scowl as he swung his right hand upwards from his side, outstretched as if it were a knife. With a portion of the energy absorbed by the laser fire and all of the energy from the melee robot's tackle, the mutant discharged a thin stream of kinetic energy from the tip of his 'bladed' hand as it swung; and watched as the robot fell in half, straight down the center. Now, only the prize left; wheeling away from the newly created wreck towards the laser-toting robot, the mutant's grin returned in full force, though with a malevolent spark glistening in his eyes. Yet, his new plaything wasn't firing at him like the other had. Must've been recharging... but Ward didn't feel like waiting.

The mutant loomed over the mechanoid ominously, and his robotic prey attempted to rise from its crouching position and break into escape. Ward, however, had no intentions of allowing that to happen. As the unit went into motion, Trent opened his hand, palm pointed towards the robot as he discharged all of the kinetic energy he had built up throughout the fight (and even some that was stored for day-to-day activity) with a massive blunt force. The robot was crushed as flat as a sheet, and even the floor it self gave way slightly, creating a quarter inch deep imprint of a hand... a six foot long, five foot wide imprint of a hand. Snarling within his shell, Trent's voice came across almost an octave lower as he uttered, “Next.”

Yet, it was his very own voice that snapped the mutant out of his intoxicated 'bloodlust'. Shaking his hands and looking down at the tattered rags barely covering his kinetic shell, Ward shook his head heavily to himself. What had he done? Was this sort of behavior truly a part of him? Manipulating the flux of sound coming in through the shell, Ward found that at the moment it was more of a strain than it should have been. Right now, Ward didn't have the willpower to keep up his upbeat behavior, and his expression showed it. Paying no heed to the dissipating illusion, Trent walked back towards his spectating guide and forced a polite smile, before hanging his head downward. ”Sorry Isabel, I.. I don't know what got into me. You can go for yourself if you'd like, but I think that might just be my only round of the day.” Nodding lightly to himself, as if he was contemplating something else, a faint smile crept up at the corners of his lips as the young man continued. ”But, thanks anyway. I've never seen real robots like those before.”