Persi had no reason to have nightmares.

Well, actually, maybe he did. Seeing Isabel, in real life and everything, was probably a decent justification. She certainly gave plenty of other people nightmares, from the sound of it.

Of course, the nightmare hadn't been about Isabel. She hadn't appeared in it once, and neither had bones. It hadn't even been a nightmare, just a memory that froze.

"How could you? How could you?"

Persi couldn't, he didn't know, he couldn't not--

(He couldn't speak, either, which was wrong, but it didn't matter.)

"Get out! Get out! My children obey God!"

But he'd tried. He didn't know what he'd done wrong.

(He couldn't move, either. That was right.)

"If I see you again-- If I see you again, I'll shoot you! I will!"

He knew that. He was lucky they hadn't actually been anywhere; he'd always known why his father had a gun.

(He couldn't stop running, but he wasn't getting anywhere.)

"I'll look for you!"

He hadn't known that. He supposed he should have; his mother always took things personally.

It wasn't a nightmare. It was just a memory. It felt like one.

He hadn't woken up screaming, or thrashing; he'd just woken up, without even opening his eyes, and he could hear breathing that took a moment to realize was Aiden and not Irri. He didn't stop to think about that, just crept out of his bed and his room and started walking.

By the time he found himself in the kitchen--which had lights on, that made him squint, but that was fine--a clock there was pointing to 4:20 AM. He didn't particularly care, except to note that it was later (earlier?) than it felt. He stared blankly at the kitchen for a moment before wandering over to the table, collapsing in a chair, and slumping over so his head was in his arms. He wasn't actually crying, or sleeping, but it was reminiscent enough of both to feel a little bit like a break.

("I'll shoot you!")

She'd woken up screaming. There were phantom hands around her throat, demon fangs hovering ever nearer. She thrashed so hard that she tumbled straight out of the bed, landing on the floor in a pile of blankets and pillows.

Saph wasn't home. He wasn't in bed with her to chase the nightmares away. Blindly, wide, tear-filled eyes darted from dark corner to dark corner. The room was closing in on her.

..Then, a soft snoring broke the waking dream. She blinked, her breath hitching in her throat, and glanced over to where her pet was sleeping, feet sticking straight up in the air.

Another dream... nothing more... but without Saphirus present to calm her down she couldn't be bothered to go back to sleep. Instead she climbed up, clad in one of Saph's t-shirts and a pair of fuzzy pants, Andrea stuffed her glasses on and left her bedroom. Bee-lining for the only other place she truly felt safe while alone.

The kitchen.

Only... she wasn't the only one up, it seemed. Another slumped form was present, hunkered over onto his arms at the table. Maybe he was sleeping? She couldn't tell. As quietly as she could, she tip-toed to the cupboards and searched for something to fill her stomach. Something to take her mind off of gnashing teeth and slashing claws.

The table was noticeably hard against Persi's forehead and arms. Which wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as it sounded, really; it was actually kind of nice. The whole rest of the world felt like it was melting and waving; having something solid was a relief.

Waves would be nice to draw, actually. Simple, repetitive; the sort of repeated cresting wave that marched across kids' puppet theaters. Simple, repeated, flowing; flowing sounded good. Waves and spirals and other things that flowed, so Persi could just let his hands draw without having to pay attention. Or think. Thinking was good to avoid.

...Were those footsteps?

It took Persi another moment to determine that he did, in fact, care enough to use the energy it took to force his head partway up, and then reangle it so that his hair was out of his eyes. Well, eye; only one could actually see the woman that was searching through the cupboards. He wasn't sure why she hadn't said anything, but then he was also kind of grateful not to be... um.

"...Snakes?" The tone that came out in was a mix of surprise and confusion; Persi's expression would have matched it if it was visible behind his hair. It took a second for everything to click. When it did he sat up, exhaustion and nightmare temporarily pushed aside. "Oh, hey! Didn't I meet you?"

The Greek jumped, a poptart shoved un-elegantly in her mouth, and turned to face the owner of the voice with a baffled, guilty expression. She may have also had her arm jammed up to the elbow in a box of sugary cereal. Shh... don't tell anyone.

To her surprise (and mild panic) she knew the face the voice belonged too. It was that kid she'd thoroughly embarrassed herself in front of at the mall. "Uph... yuhphs.."

Okay, chew before you speak, genius! Flushing brown, she turned her back on him long enough that she could lamely devour her food, then wiped her face on her sleeve and turned back. "...Um... Blake, was it not?" A fraction of a second later, she realized she was crushing the cereal box to her chest. It was swiftly abandoned on the counter, while her stomach growled in annoyance.

"We... met at the mall. I did not realize you lived here also." Or... did he?

That... was a ridiculous reaction. The sort of thing a child would do, and be adorable for. Complete with attempting to hide the fact that she was eating. Persi blinked and waited.

...That was less amusing. Persi sunk in his seat. It hadn't occurred to him she'd remember his name. It hadn't even occurred to him that she knew his name; he wasn't used to having to think about that sort of thing. "Um. Yeah. But... Persi. Now." That was incredibly broken and possibly incomprehensible, but as long as she figured out what to call him now, he wasn't inclined to clarify why.

And then Persi cringed more, and was now officially staring at the floor. "I didn't. Live here, I mean. Then." And he would prefer not to have to think about the fact that he lived here now.

Persi. She committed it to memory, and plucked crumbs from her shirt. Andrea didn't catch the strange way he'd said it at first, given that on a daily basis strange things left her mouth more often than normal ones. But, she did happen to catch the sullen way he went about informing her of his not-living-here-then but yes-living-here-now status.

She was (probably) justifiably confused.

"Oh... well.. I um.. didn't mean to, you know..." Pry... assume. Make an ass out of herself. All of the above. "Are...are you hungry? I can cook."

Man, she was getting nowhere fast. Shaking herself in an attempt to wake up and be coherent at least, she turned toward the fridge. "I mean I could cook us something to share. I am always waking up around this time in the morning with a raging hunger. I must waste an awful lot of energy on dreaming, because I am always sure to eat dinner before going to sleep."

It dawned on her as she was dragging out a frying pan, that she was more or less rambling, and he probably didn't have a clue as to why.

"...S-sorry... I... I tend to talk a lot when I am nervous." She shot him a sheepish glance, and fiddled with the pan in her hands. Why had she even gotten it out? She hadn't a clue what she was making yet.

"It's okay." No, it really wasn't, but it wasn't her fault. "It's not like you would have known."

"What?" That was a confusingly abrupt topic change. Once Persi did catch up with it, he blinked, blinked again, looked down and poked his stomach. It squished. That gave him absolutely no relevant information, but while he wasn't starving, thinking about it did make him feel sort of hungry. "Um, sure." Persi didn't think he'd spent that much energy on dreaming, really, but that could work as well as any other excuse. "Thanks."

The rambling, actually, was kind of nice. It gave him something to listen to that did not consist of echoing thoughts. "It's fine, I kind of do the opposite and don't talk, so... we fit, I guess?"

Their ways of dealing with awkwardness might fit together well, but trying to look at someone behind him was not working so well. Persi turned the chair slightly, and mostly himself, so that he could see her without adding to the pain that was starting to develop in his neck.

She smiled, setting the pan down, and set about collecting things to whip into something tasty and edible. Hopefully.

"I used to be like that, too. When I first came here, in fact." How many years ago has that been? Two? Three? "I spent a great deal of time at home by myself, so when I came here to the states, to this school, I had a very hard time opening up to everyone. I still do, truthfully." She swatted sloth away as he lazily reached for a block of cheese in the fridge, before grabbing it herself.

"... not that anyone here is unfriendly, mind you. I just was not prepared for dealing with my..erm... predicament and people at the same time."

Maybe... maybe she was saying a bit too much. Persi didn't exactly seem like someone who could ever really put himself in her shoes; she didn't think many people could. Or wanted too, for that matter. He seemed to be a perfectly normal boy, if a little shy.

She half-turned to flash a smile at him, while mixing together ingredients into a thick batter in a bowl she'd collected.

"When was that?" Persi wasn't overly fascinated with other peoples' lives, but conversation was conversation. If she felt like talking about that, he had no objection. "I didn't spend much time home, I guess, but...." Well, now that he'd started, why not; it'd come out eventually anyway. She was at least being nicer than a lot of people had been. "I mostly got along with my twin. It's weird not to be around him." Which was, really, how it had worked; they might look the same, but if they did something that didn't involve art in some way, it was either motivated by Irri, or by Persi trying to do something for Irri. Which they'd both been perfectly happy with.

"...I think some people might like you better." Not that there hadn't been nice, friendly people too. But there were also some distinctly unfriendly ones. And some confusing ones.... Well, it wasn't like Persi could blame them. Andrea (he thought? He hadn't put that much effort into remembering the name) was being nice and energetic and friendly and all that sort of stuff that made you popular. Persi... was not.

...He really didn't care enough to change it, though. Especially if bullies got explosions thrown in their face here. He smiled back as well as he could, though whether it was in time for her to see he wasn't sure.

"It was..." She counted months off with her fingers, staring at the ceiling while thinking. "four years ago?" Three years.. one and a half of which she'd spent living at the sanctuary. Fighting back a small frown, she poured some of her batter into the pan to test if it was hot enough.

"You have a twin?" Half-turning again, she peered back at him. "He did not come with you? Is he older?" It didn't occur to her that she quite possibly was prying a little too deeply. Considering the fact that she didn't have any siblings... er, well.. that she hadn't grown up with any siblings, she was usually rather interested in peoples sisters and brothers.

Honestly, it was something she rather envied. "What is it like, having siblings?"

That was less than Persi expected. Only four years? How old had she been when she got here? Wasn't this a school? Mostly, anyway? "How old are you? ...Sorry." He remembered a bit too late that he wasn't supposed to ask girls that sort of thing.

"Yes... no.... I have a twin. He's not older, he's my twin, we're the same age." Persi's eyes wandered to the side as he answered, but he wasn't aware of it. Talking about Irri hurt, but stopping didn't seem to be happening. "He didn't... he was sick when we went to the protest, so they don't know he's a mutant, so... he didn't get kicked out." And those last two words hurt almost as much as missing Irri did.

That was a safer topic. Slightly, but still safer. "It depends on the siblings, I guess. Ace--my older brother--was horrible. Like... you know if you watch movies, the dumb football player who picks on everyone else? He's like that, only he's actually smart too, so that's just another way for him to pick on everyone." Including Persi and Irri, but they were the little brothers; no one saw anything wrong with them being picked on. "Irri's awesome, though. He plays drums, and makes electronic music--composes, I guess. And we got along." Well enough that Persi had never really needed to make other friends.

With a small laugh, she shrugged her shoulders. "It is alright, I do not mind. I am twenty five."

She listened to him, catering to the food she was preparing, but stopped when he mentioned mutants and a protest. Then, he had her full, undivided attention. Kicked out? She was inclined to question further, but bit back the words. Stealing a look at him, she could see the subject hurt.

Instead, for the moment, she let his information about what it was like to have brothers sink in.

"I... I have one sibling." She started, unsure of whether telling him was a good idea. "But I--" She paused, unable to continue, and shook her head. It was hard for her to even wrap her mind around it still, let alone explain it.

"... You were kicked out for being a mutant?" She felt like she was testing unknown waters. And she was also burning her food. While she dealt with that, she tried to think of something else to say. Something that maybe wasn't as horribly personal.

So four years ago would be twenty one. That was... not normally high school age. "This is... someone told me this was a school? Mostly?" And that twenty one and twenty five are not ages that someone is normally in school?

"Do you get along with them?" Not at all the most common first question to ask about siblings, but Persi thought it was the most important one. If nothing else, it could keep you from screwing up the second.

"Well technically we were already outside." And technically that was a terrible joke, and since when did Persi even try to make those jokes anyway? "Um. Yeah." He couldn't see his feet, but he was still barefoot, so he could feel his toes spread and try to grip onto the floor. "Isn't that... mostly why everyone's here?" He didn't know why else anyone would be.

"It is." She nodded. "Mostly. Not everyone here takes classes, however. I was home schooled, so I technically graduated before everyone else my age." That had been year ago, however. Even before she'd come up with her plan to flee Greece.

She squirmed at the second question, not really knowing what to say. "I- well, I do not really know my sibling. I only recently found out I have one, so I do not know if we would get along. He is also only three, so... there is that, too." Technically a half-brother... and one she probably would never have anything to do with if fate has its way.

She was rather happy momentary shift in topics, even if it still led in a rather difficult to explain direction. "Not everyone is here for that reason, no... I came here to, well... to find out what I was. Before I left Greece all I had to go on was what my parents has told me, and what information I could find on the internet."

Which was a hard hard thing to do, when you had permanent safety filters on your computer that didn't like any version of the words 'Green skinned women'.

"Others are here for the same reason as I; to find answers and maybe help."

"Oh. That would make getting along harder. At least you can't really fight with a sibling that much younger." Persi assumed, at least. He hadn't had any younger siblings, much less one that much younger, but it seemed logical. Little kids could be annoying, but they couldn't hate you the way kids the same age could.

"Oh." Frankly, Persi was perfectly happy with the information he already had; he really didn't need more. He supposed he could see that some people would need it, though, if they were really sheltered. He supposed a school would be a logical source of other information, too. "That makes sense, I guess. The internet's not very reliable for information." Among other reasons, most of it was ruled by liberals. Persi wasn't sure how that had happened, exactly, and most of the time it didn't matter, but it was still a bad source of information. "And then you just stayed here?"

And on that note, a less serious topic might be nice to have. Persi didn't even need to look around to find a distraction this time. "What are you making? ...It smells good." He hadn't thought about it until he spoke, actually, but it did.

...And apparently his stomach agreed. Hopefully she didn't hear that. Now that he thought of it, had he even eaten dinner last night? Oh well, he would now.