Persi hated bad paper. Well, technically, it wasn't bad, exactly; printer paper worked well, for what it was meant for. Printing from a computer. But it was terrible for drawing, especially when all he could find were basic school pencils; not different weights of pencil, much less charcoal or pastels or anything at all fun to draw with. He'd even take kids' crayons at this point, but there weren't any of those either.

So instead he'd found the library (who ever needed a three story library?) and found computers and printers in it, and grabbed paper from one of the printers when no one was around. (Who knew if someone would object; librarians were weirdly obsessive, and while computers and printers weren't books, Persi wouldn't be shocked if they obsessed about them, too.) And he'd found a pencil, too. (A mechanical pencil--if any of his art teachers could see, they'd kill him. Well, they would anyway, but the mechanical pencil would make it personal.) As obnoxious as both were, he couldn't not draw.

So that no one could object, he'd snuck out of the library and to the living room, and settled there to draw whatever he could see. Persi didn't quite feel like dealing with his roommate (or anyone, really), so he'd hidden in a corner, let his legs dangle over the side of a chair, and used a DVD case he'd found to draw on. Which required folding the paper in half, but really, at this point he wasn't capable of being more annoyed than he already was. It was just as well; his sketches of tables and shelves had fairly quickly developed tiny dragons, zombie fairies and leering imps perched on and crawling over them. He liked the concept, and having to keep the sketches small meant he could only get so frustrated by the ways the bad pencil and paper messed his drawings up. It was far too small a silver lining to keep him from scowling.

Evelyn had been at the mansion a few days so far. Well, that was only sort of true. She had been here most of the time, other than a few adventures outdoors that may or may not have resulted in running for her life and further bad memories to store into her mind. Today, she didn't feel like running much, so she was just satisfying herself with the school art supplies she finally managed to locate. The art room was stocked well enough, and she had a decent sketchbook and some color pencils she wanted to try out. Wandering through the hallway, she made her way towards the living room to find a place to draw.

Unfortunately, someone was already there spreading the artistic joy.

Then again, finding another artist was always refreshing, especially when the last week most people just wanted to destroy art...

Approaching quietly, she peered at the drawings. They weren't half bad, but the paper he was using was familiar. Printer paper. She had gone through a ream of the stuff in one sitting her first night here, and she momentarily lamented over the memory. "You know, while that paper is more abundant, you look like the sort who would prefer something nicer." She quietly said, the echoes announcing to slowly the risk of startling him.

Social situations were surprisingly never her forte. "I should know, I spent my first day here doing the same thing. Have you gone to the art room?" She held out the fresh sketch book she had acquired as a sample of what he could find, and watched for his response.

Along with bad pencils and bad paper, Persi did not like interruptions. Especially when he was already in a distinctly anti-human mood. Well, anti-person; anti-interaction. Anti-human was a bit too specific. Regardless, he was scowling as he looked up.

The scowl faded as he realized what the interrupter (she, apparently) had said, and he blinked. "There's something nicer?" He... actually couldn't think of many down sides to the implication. Sure, it was possible she just didn't know what was or was not nicer, but really, someone who didn't know what was nicer than printer paper generally didn't know there was anything wrong with printer paper either. So that probably wasn't the case. "There's an art room?" Actually, now that he thought of it, he had been told this was technically a school; that it had an art room probably shouldn't be a surprise. That they were allowed (or able, Persi really wasn't feeling picky on that detail right now) to take supplies from it was less predictable, though.

The sketchbook she held out was an indication that they were, though. Persi eyed it for a moment; it looked new, and while it wasn't the best sketchbook he'd ever seen (as if that wasn't entirely subjective anyway), it certainly wasn't bad. And wasn't printer paper; the worst sketchbook in existence would be better than that. So it only took a second to convince him to drop twist out of his chair, and as a second thought collect the paper he'd already drawn on. He liked the ideas, anyway; may as well keep them. "There are pencils too?" Either way, the mechanical pencil and the sheets he hadn't drawn on yet were abandoned.

Clearly, her fellow artist did not appreciate interruption, and the scowl said 'leave me alone' loud enough she could have heard it without her echoes. Then he seemed to understand what she was saying, and realization dawned. A flicker of understanding, a bit of hope. And then the all important question:

"There's something nicer?"

Evelyn smiled slightly, and gave a little nod. "Nicer, not the best quality I've ever seen, the weights a little light and it doesn't hold charcoal well, but I did find it holds color pencils rather well. I prefer paper without a heavy grit for colors, it makes them easier to blend..." She commented, gazing down at the sketchbook thoughtfully.

"But yes, the art room isn't too far. I could show you if you'd like... It's a bit elementary as far as variety goes, but when lacking ones own supplies, it'll suffice." She decided. After all, her last adventure to rescue her surprise left her dealing with a mutant with a goddess complex.

"The pencils are decent. A few different weights, nothing expensive, as I would expect with younger children running a-muck. But better than the mechanical one you've been using." She had already turned away, but a glance had been all that was necessary to tell her his situation.

Well, that was a little disappointing; Persi liked rough textures. Texture was fun to play with in prettymuch every form. But it wasn't like everything he drew had to be on rough paper; it'd be good for him to learn how to create the same effects on different papers anyway. And, well... printer paper. Anything would be awesome compared to that. "That would be nice... thank you." It was still a bit odd to tack that on, and it felt tacked on. Most of the time Persi either didn't speak to people he liked, or didn't have anything to thank them for, or both. Christmas, Easter and his birthday were about the only exceptions, and it felt tacked on and awkward then too. But he didn't hate this girl and she was helping him, so it got tacked on.

"Anything's better than nothing." Of course, technically speaking, the computer paper was 'anything,' so perhaps this was more of something is better than anything. Or, printer paper was just horrible enough to count as nothing anyway. Whatever. "That's a relief. I don't think... I can't remember the last time I had to use a mechanical pencil to draw." The length of time he'd been spared that torture was not the cause of the disgust in his voice.

Following the girl was easy enough; she wasn't sprinting off or climbing up the walls or anything. Technically, Persi hadn't yet seen anyone climbing up the walls or on the ceiling, but then again, he hadn't been looking much; it was entirely possible he'd walked under someone and just not looked up. Either way, he was sure someone here probably did that. "How did you find it?"

The boy was quiet, but made the attempt to be polite so that was a start. Not that Evelyn was known for her dazzling manners. Sure, her upbringing taught her posture, her pleasantries, yes ma'am's and no ma'am's, but that didn't matter much once her echoes started piecing things together. It was like having someone gossiping in your ear all the time. Sometimes, things just repeated themselves.

"My first night, I had a pencil that looked like someone chewed on it, dull as could be, no sharpener. I had to pick at the point to get more lead. Could always be worse. Mechanical pencils are nice for detailed lines, but they certainly don't give much as far as shading or values..." She mused allowed.

"How'd I find the art room?" She grinned slightly, chuckling to herself. "I tried to sneak out and Mirror caught me. They told me where to find it. I was a little shy about exploring at first, but I figure if I'm stuck here for awhile I needed some form of art to keep my sanity. I was ready to color on walls when I finally got my hands on a canvas." A few more halls, and then they reached the room. It was dark, but her hand navigated by memory to the light without issue. There was no hesitation in her movements and her sense of direction was impeccable. One of the advantages of having the memory she did.

"Pencils, paper, cardstock. Some of the nicer supplies are in that back cabinet tucked in the back." She said, pointing out the different locations. She wandered to one of the desks and hopped onto the tabletop, opening her sketchbook and doodling idly. A picture of the mechanical pencil he had been tinkering with started to take shape, like she was photocopying the image in her head.

"Ew." Admittedly, sharpening a pencil with a knife, Persi was fine with; it made many more interesting points than a sharpener could. That was definitely not what 'picking' meant, though. If it had been him, he might have been able to use scissors to cut it, he'd done that a few times... but then, he hadn't seen scissors around anywhere, either. Just how small were the kids around here, anyway?

"I don't know. They're too light, for me, even for details. I guess it could maybe be a sort of practice for ink, but that's normally a lot more varied too." If nothing else, there were quite a wide variety of pens, both in size and color, to play with. Mechanical pencils... were prettymuch all the same.

"Who's Mirror?" If Mirror was someone who'd turned into a mirror and could talk and spy on people, Persi was leaving. Or at least, never going near wherever Mirror was hung. He refused to live in a Disney cartoon. For one thing, mutants were prettymuch guaranteed to be the villains. He'd rather go to hell later, thanks.

...It might be a bit rude to immediately go to where she'd pointed out the nicer supplies were. So Persi skipped toward them; examining the basic and more interesting things on the way. Sketchbooks were examined, and a few picked up, then one set down as he decided the second was better. Cardstock was skipped, pencils were sorted through and a variety chosen (they were not, as she had said, the most expensive, but they were good, and Persi had never really found a difference between 'good' and 'most expensive' that mattered in pencils). Watercolors were skipped; they were the old, elementary school kind, and a lot of them looked messy and half used. If watercolors were Persi's favorite media maybe he'd have spent the time to find a clean batch, but they weren't, so he didn't. If he felt the need to paint... hopefully their acrylics were better.

It took longer than he'd thought to reach the cabinet of superior supplies, but then, that had been the point. And Persi had at least collected the most basic supplies; he'd actually be perfectly happy (for a while) with what he already had. Knowing there were more interesting supplies, though, there was no way he wasn't going to look.

>> Who's Mirror?

"A pain in the butt." She remarked lightheartedly, then gave a small smile to show she wasn't serious. At least, not entirely. "Nah, they're one of the leaders here. They can walk through Mirrors, thus the name. They rescued me from a few bad situations, and took me here. Not sure I've really settled in much but I'm making the most of it." She remarked. She avoided the topic of Mirror's gender shifting for the moment. That seemed like the sort of thing that would freak this kid out.

"I'm Evelyn, by the way," she added, and watched him navigate the room. He avoided the cabinet at first, which was noteworthy considering how eager he had been to get supplies. She smiled to herself and continued sketching, listening to the motions and letting the echoes fill in the rest. In the cabinet there were a few higher quality color pencil sets, some good quality sketch paper, a few packages of pencils and her favorite, paints. Good quality acrylic that had yet to get mixed and mingled by younger hands, and brushes that hadn't been smashed.

"Oh." It took a minute for Persi to process all the information he'd just been given. He managed, though, without too much of a pause. "So... what you're telling me is, we live in scifi Hogwarts. And also, I should never trust a mirror again." ...And should figure out some way to cover all mirrors when he was in the bathroom. Being watched by people he knew existed was unnerving enough.

"Blake." Persi had reached the cabinet, and so was not really paying attention when he answered. It did contain much nicer supplies, though still not the nicest he'd ever seen. Persi supposed that made sense. It was technically a school, after all.

...Oh. Right. School. All that... stuff. "Um. Persi. Not Blake." He grabbed a set of colored pencils--the quality of those did make a difference he'd noticed--and a sketchbook, then closed the cabinet and headed a bit too quickly to put back the colored pencils he'd picked up earlier. And on second thought, picked up a few more pencils; it wasn't like he wouldn't use them, after all. And then tried really hard not to look as uncomfortable as he suddenly felt.

Sci-fi Hogwarts... well that was certainly a way to put it, yes.

"I think this place could get a bit more complicated than Hogwarts... At least you know what to expect if you're dealing with a school of witches and wizards. Here, everyone has their own special brand of ... talent." That seemed to be an acceptable term for it. She finished up the sketch of the pencil and flipped the page, starting on a drawing of a salt shaker with no real thought to what she was doing. She looked up long enough to see the flicker of emotions pass the teen's face.

The echoes started chirping in her head. [Discomfort at the mention of school. Dislikes the idea of school? Or perhaps, this particular school."] He had called it a Sci-Fi Hogwarts. Maybe he wasn't jumping up and down with joy at getting his wand. Maybe for him, he was more in line with the Dursleys... She bit her lip slightly, reminding herself most people didn't appreciate her input.

"You're not exactly a fan of mutants, are you Blake? Don't worry, I'm not going to tattle on you. You know just because someone can do something doesn't mean they will. Someone may be able to walk through any Mirror but trying to control abilities and live together is kinda their brochure headline." She flipped the page again, starting to draw a picture of a lion mutant snarling in battle. Perhaps that wasn't the best image to put in his head... Clean sheet of paper, and the wispy outline of Ghost's baby started taking form, little fist full of hair in his gleeful hand.

"Yeah, but there you just expect everything." Really, the conversation should have reminded him where he was and why, but Hogwarts was (and even more so had been) a common enough conversation topic that it didn't seem nearly so unusual. Just another hypothetical fantasy to debate. Only, it wasn't hypothetical or a fantasy this time. Maybe a horror story....

Even shrugging felt awkward. I don't... I don't dislike mutants." That was true, unless you counted disliking being a mutant. He didn't want to actually lie, though, even if Evelyn wasn't suddenly seeming like a mind reader. "But, people don't always do only what they mean to." And if Persi accidentally got something stuck in someone's head, that probably wouldn't matter. If Kaitlyn accidentally exploded someone, that was a bigger problem. "And, having a whole school dedicated to trying to control them kind of implies a lot of people can't...."

Also, that whole sinning thing. Persi wasn't very fond of that, either, even if it hadn't had any... well, hadn't had too many tangibly bad effects on his life yet. Just because God was being merciful to him now didn't mean it was okay to sin. Like online TOS's, really; failure to immediately enforce our rules does not mean they are not rules... though Persi suspected the internet companies just failed because they didn't notice, instead of because they were merciful.

Whatever. The room suddenly felt far too small to be in, at least with another person. Persi moved toward the door. "So. Um. You read minds or something?" He supposed he could get used to that, eventually. It didn't really matter anyway.

Evelyn paused her drawing to look up and watch Persi's echoes. They were... confused, to say the least. There was a level of doubt, confusion, some fear mingled with a subtle angel of guilt or disgust, really. Something in his past, perhaps, lurked under the surface and was still shaping him. She only recognized those echoes because she's seen them in her own reflection.

"Valid point. Having a room full of super humans trying to learn to control their ability to destroy the world as we know it could be a little unnerving, to say the least. Especially if you grow up with people telling you being a mutant was something wrong. Am I right?" She took the risk and spoke her assumption aloud. She set down her pencil and studied him for a good moment. Not like a scientist would study a lab rat or something freaky like that. More of a gentle curiosity.

"I don't read minds, but I am unusually aware of people and surroundings. Body language, facial expression, all of that matters and can tell you things about a person. My parents used to think it was something the right doctor could 'cure'. You don't cure what we are though. I guess whether good or bad we're stuck this way." She remarked thoughtfully.

Persi stopped on his way to the door and ducked his head. There might have been a few involuntary twitches in there too. Seriously, why was everyone here managing to pick at exactly the things he didn't want to talk about? "Everybody grows up with that." Granted, he'd heard a lot more of it than most, and not a lot of other opinions, but still. Everyone heard it. The people who knew it mostly made very, very sure that everyone else heard, even if they couldn't make everyone else listen. "Anyway, whether it's wrong or not it's... a lot of them are still dangerous." He probably shouldn't include Evelyn's, even if hers was unnerving. And his wasn't dangerous either, at least, and he'd probably better get used to considering that. Ignoring that he was a mutant before had been necessary; he was here in the first place because he hadn't ignored it well enough. But he couldn't undo that, so he had to adapt, and this place seemed significantly more likely to be annoyed if he didn't remember.

"So basically, you read minds without reading minds." Persi was not going to think about the being stuck thing. Sure he might know that, but he still didn't want to think about it. And seeing as there was a convenient distraction to focus on.... "Seems like it works out about the same, anyway."

"A lot of humans are dangerous as well. There was a point they rounded up mutants and threw us into camps. Even now, with the riots, it's not only mutants that are causing damage." Evelyn said. She didn't sound upset, rather, conversational. Part of being a know it all was there were times you just kept talking with little concern of the consequences.

"You give the wrong person a gun, they are gonna kill someone. You give the wrong person a knife, they can stab you. You give the wrong person powers, they can destroy things. Doesn't matter if mutants are good or bad as a whole. There are always the rare few that can define the actions of the many. I doubt your powers are dangerous, considering you didn't seem to include yourself in the statement about dangerous mutants. Passive mutations can slip under the radar, but we still share the same label. The main thing is figuring out what side you stand on I think. Are you the wrong person to hold the gun?" She mused it thoughtfully. Back to sketching.

"I think my powers end up being more complicated than mind reading, in a way. When you read minds, you hear thoughts and you know what people are actively thinking. Sometimes, my powers tell me things they aren't. A person may not know they're afraid of heights, but their hands will shake and their body will respond with anxiety. I can read that. I can read more than people too. Ironed pants can reveal attention to detail, concern for appearance. Faded make-up shows an attempt to look good but someone who has become too preoccupied to touch it up. A tendency to dislike mechanical pencils could show a desire for control, and a frustration with something that doesn't offer it..." She clipped her sentence short again, looked more intently at her paper.

Persi's toes were absolutely fascinating. He was barefoot right now, because he only had the one pair of socks and there was no reason to wear shoes inside anyway. So every time he shifted his weight of twisted one of his feet, his toes shifted too. It was fascinating.

...Well, no, not really. Persi could only study toes for so long, especially if he wasn't drawing them. That wasn't very long. And even as long as he could, he still wasn't succeeding in blocking out what Evelyn said.

He knew she was wrong. Not stupid, he could see why she thought that, but she was still wrong. And if she'd been saying he was wrong, arguing with him, confronting him at all, it still wouldn't be easy to deal with, but at least he'd have a start. If she argued, he could argue back, but instead she was just... doing something. Talking to herself, almost, only it was to him. "But humans need a gun. Mutants are designed to kill. I wouldn't be dangerous accidentally, I think, but I probably could be on purpose." Definitely could be, now that he thought of it.

He stared as she listed examples of her mutation's insights. "...You're making that up. Wouldn't a mechanical pencil give more control anyway? Pens don't erase and other pencils get dull."