Persi hadn't been doing much more drawing recently than he had before being kicked out, but it sometimes felt like it. Maybe it was because he hadn't gotten to draw at all for most of a week, or maybe he was just more conscious of it. Maybe he was more conscious of drawing because he hadn't been able to for most of a week.

He certainly was more conscious of what he drew, at least, after talking to Evelyn. He'd tried drawing good things, just to see. It was... boring. They looked shallow and fake. Pretty, but plastic; like a postcard-perfect beach scene pasted on a window with a thunderstorm outside. He might not see the thunderstorm, but he knew it was there, and it made looking at the cut and paste beach glaringly fake, confusing, even irritating.

So he tried combining them. Starting with something dark, turning into something good; redemption. That... didn't look fake. It felt cruel, though; Persi drew them, and hated them, and it only took a day for him to paperclip the pages those drawings were on together, and decide not to look at them again. They were just... no. He resented them too much.

So he was back to drawing dark things. Imps, demons, dragons; a vase of flowers, tipped on its side, the spilled water turned to blood, and petal edges glinting, pearl razors. That was what he was working on now; normally he'd have painted the petal edges and blood, to get brighter colors (and metallic paint), but he'd forgotten there was paint for a bit, and started with pencils. He could cover the pencil with paint, he supposed, but it was a good exercise to do. Maybe he'd add paint just for a few details, if he could find the right paint and a small enough brush. Later, though. Right now he was busy making the blood look like blood.

With the riots going on downtown, the school seemed to experience a sudden influx of new people. To say that the staff was overworked was a severe understatement; Mirror could not even remember when she had last slept through the night.

Gawain walked down the hallway accompanied by Angua, who seemed to be taking her guard dog duties quite seriously. Holding a clipboard and a handful of files, Gawain as the X-greeter on duty had been tasked by Miss Taylor to check up on all the newcomers in the Mansion, and make sure they were safe, provided for, and not causing trouble.

Stopping at a door in the boys' wing of the dorms the young X-man knocked.

"Hello? Anybody home?"

Persi was home. Aiden was not, which was fortunate for Persi considering how awkward interacting with him was, though less fortunate for whoever was (Persi assumed) looking for him, especially since Persi had no clue where he was.

Of course, that might not be an issue either; who knew what mutation they had. Either way, they didn't seem to already know where he was, so Persi had better tell them that wherever Aiden was, it wasn't here. Bleh; he'd been enjoying napping... partly because he didn't have much else to do, even Persi couldn't draw all the time, but still. He didn't put much effort into wandering over to the door and opening it.

Nope, Persi had no clue who that was. Or why... well, mutants. Persi would just blame the dog in a school on mutants. That worked. "Aiden's not here, I don't know where he is."

The face of teenage angst greeted Gawain as the room's newest resident opened the door.

>>"Aiden's not here, I don't know where he is."

"I'm not looking for Aiden." Gawain shrugged. He had met Aiden before, he was the one who checked the kid in. So he was sharing a room with this fine specimen now. Great.

"My name is Gawain Morris, I work for the school. I am just checking up on every newcomer. We had so many people come in since the riots started our files are kind of..." he glanced at the files he held under his arm "...incomplete."

That was... weird. And a bit unnerving. People knowing Aiden made sense; someone looking for Persi... made less sense.

Oh. Except for that. He'd kind of forgotten about that. Persi shifted and let the door open wider. "Oh. Hi. Um... what do you need? I don't really have like... birth certificates, or anything...." Or any clue what it took to register for a school. Or for a... whatever this was. He had his driver's license, luckily, but that was it, and he wasn't really very inclined to show that to anyone, anyway.

And on a side note... what kind of name was 'Gawain,' and why did someone working for a school look like a teenager? Persi had the sense to keep those comments to himself, though.

>>"Oh. Hi. Um... what do you need? I don't really have like... birth certificates, or anything...."

"That's fine, it's not really what we need to know anyway" Gawain shrugged, leaning against the door frame since it seemed like the guy was not going to invite him in, and did not show interest in leaving the room either. "Look, to be honest, we have had so many people come in since the riots that I don't even know half of the kids in the school. But someone needs to make sure we at least have a vague idea of what you all can do, for our sake and yours. I'm not gonna ask for your papers, but I'll trust you with the fact that this school needs to stay a safe place for everyone. So, let's try this again. My name is Gawain, code name Mirror, I'm a team leader for the X-men and I can walk through mirrors. Your turn."

"Oh! Hey!" Persi blinked, straightened up, and eyed Gawain--Mirror--again. He... still looked not very impressive. "Evelyn mentioned you. Sort of." And the fact that Mirror was this unimpressive... really made Persi not the least bit less paranoid of mirrors now. Though he supposed he didn't need to be worried about them while he could see Mirror wasn't in a mirror.

Answering... was not as easy. Persi was looking away again. He was fairly sure he managed not to blush, mostly. "I'm Persi. I can't... really do anything... just get things stuck. In peoples' heads, like songs." Or other things, but songs were what made the most sense, and what worked best anyway.

>>"Oh! Hey! Evelyn mentioned you. Sort of."

For a split second, Gawain's eyes narrowed. Then he pulled out a pen and flipped one of the files open. Suddenly he had a whole new series of questions he needed to ask from this kid.

>>"I'm Persi. I can't... really do anything... just get things stuck. In peoples' heads, like songs."

"So... you make people remember things? Things that happened? Or can you put things in their heads that you make up?"

And what do you use it for? To make girls think things? Girls that can't forget things to begin with?

How did this dude know Evelyn anyway?...

"Er...." Persi had no idea where that glare came from, but he didn't like it. Gawain was eyed again, this time with much more worry than curiosity. Persi mostly resisted the urge to back away, and only edged backwards a few inches.

"Uh... sort of? Not... I can't do that." Apparently his answer was not sufficient. This would be less of a problem if Persi wasn't having trouble sorting through the questions, and also if he actually knew the answers. "It only sticks like... songs, mostly. Poetry, I guess phrases... stuff that gets stuck easy anyway. I don't know, it might work on other things. Just whatever someone is already thinking of. I can't put anything in their head, that's--I can't do that." And he was not telling anyone here about Irri, creepy angry mirror-spy or not. "I could say something right before I make something stick, cause people normally think about what they're hearing right then, so that way I'd know what gets stuck, but otherwise it's just... whatever they're thinking gets more memorable. Um, for a little bit. Like an hour, maybe." Which was annoying, there were plenty of people Persi would've liked to annoy a lot longer than that, but being even weaker seemed like the better idea with angry mirror spies interrogating him. "I don't really know anything else.... It took like a year and a half to figure out it was real, it's not really noticeable...."

And Persi really hoped that was enough for Gawain, because Persi had to guess half of that much detail, and definitely didn't know even enough to guess more. And apparently he'd ended up hunching his shoulders defensively sometime during trying to come up with all that. Making them stop and go back to normal was... mostly successful. Hopefully enough for the rest not to be noticed. It was probably way too late for that anyway, though.

>>"Er.... Uh... sort of? Not... I can't do that. It only sticks like... songs, mostly. Poetry, I guess phrases... stuff that gets stuck easy anyway. I don't know, it might work on other things. Just whatever someone is already thinking of. I can't put anything in their head, that's--I can't do that... I don't really know anything else.... It took like a year and a half to figure out it was real, it's not really noticeable...."

The guy backed away as he started to explain his powers (or lack thereof). Gawain took some notes in the file, but kept an eye on him in case he decided to bolt. He looked like he would do that. A little dark part of Gawain's brain was satisfied that he could intimidate him. That's what being grown up is all about.

"All right" he nodded once the guy had finished rattling off details of his abilities "So, what brings you to the Mansion?"

Loaded question much? The guy pass for human. Easy. Actually, he was not entirely sure he was not human. So why seek shelter at the Mansion? What brought him here? Or, better yet, who brought him here?...

"Do you know any of the students other than Eve... Evelyn?"

"...I hate your questions," was the first thing Persi managed to say. Really? First his (incredibly pathetic) mutation, now this? It still took a bit longer to sort out something he could stand to say. In the meantime, he played with the door handle. "Why do you need to know?" Can you please, please say you don't?

"Um... I met Dahlia..." and he was beginning to really wish he hadn't, if he had to be questioned by someone who clearly didn't like him, about things he really didn't want to talk about. "Not other students.... Um, I met Miss Jackson a while ago...."

>>"...I hate your questions,"

Gawain did not care for the attitude. Sure, took one to know one, but still, he was here as an official Mansion greeter, and the kid was not making his job any easier. One would have expected someone who just came off the streets in the middle of the mutant riots for free room and board would show a little bit more gratitude.

>>"Um... I met Dahlia... Not other students.... Um, I met Miss Jackson a while ago...."

That did not tell a lot to Gawain. He sighed and closed the file.

"Look I'm not trying to make this difficult. I just have a bunch of questions to ask since it looks like you have been staying in here, and we need to know who all is in the building. Frankly, for everything that's available here, that's not a high price to pay."

"Well I don't know what you want." Frustration, fed by stress, was beginning to slip past the caution. Not enough to make Persi glare at Mirror, but he was frowning; just at some point to the side of Mirror's shoulder instead. He stopped playing with the doorknob, but managed not to cross his arms; they were stuck awkwardly by his side. Instead he started playing with the hem of his shirt. "Why do you need to know why I'm here? It doesn't matter."

And no, it wasn't a high price. That was beside the point, since Persi wasn't refusing to answer. He just wanted to know why, and what Mirror actually needed to know, so that he could answer faster and better and not have to think about stuff he still wasn't sure he could without crying. Which was something he was definitely not going to do in front of Gawain. Or at all, preferably. But definitely not where he could be seen.

>>"Well I don't know what you want. Why do you need to know why I'm here? It doesn't matter."

"You're wrong there, kid" Gawain sighed, looking at the boy that looked like he was either gonna start yelling or weeping. All he wanted to be left alone, as most teens do, but Gawain also knew he could not do that. Not now. Not this week.

"It does matter. I am not telling you to give me your entire life story. Whatever you have done, believe me, some of us have done worse. I am not trying to a background check or anything. But I do need to know a few things. For your sake."

Well, now he was starting to sound like Miss T. Splendid.

"Look, we're got a guidance counselor for all the emotional stuff. All I need to know is if someone's gonna come looking for you, and whether we should let them in, call the lawyers, or fry their ass. We have had all three, and everything in-between, but you get the idea. Throw me a bone here."

Okay, so Mirror no longer looked like he was going to hit Persi. Or... whatever mirror-people did. Probably stab, going by the name. Or challenge to some sort of honor duel, and then stab. Anyway, Persi still wasn't totally sure that was an improvement, considering what Mirror was saying. Anger was predictable, he could deal with being hit and yelled at pretty well. It was annoying, but not really a problem. But instead now Mirror was being all emotional and... and whatever. Like he was trying to give a movie everything-is-happily-ever-after-we're-all-friends speech, but was really bad at it. "I haven't done anything," was muttered, probably loud enough for Mirror to hear.

And it was true; Persi hadn't done anything. Except draw, go to school, stick pencils in the ceiling, get a few detentions when he slept through class, and sometimes pretend he was sick so he could sleep in instead of going to church.

...It was probably that last one that was the problem. Persi felt kind of guilty about it. And kind of angry, because that was a really stupid, tiny thing to damn him for. And then guilty again, because it wasn't God's fault that Persi was bad.

Leaving emotional stuff for the guidance counselor sounded good. Persi wouldn't ever go, but then, that was why it sounded good.

...Until Mirror said that. Sure, technically it was easy; Persi knew that answer years ago. Or, well, every part of it that didn't involve himself; if he'd bothered guessing his own actions, he could've figured it out. So he'd known. It still took a minute of staring at anywhere that wasn't Mirror to make himself say it. "...If they knew where I was they'd've shot me before I got here. They don't know this place exists." If they did, they'd have either burned it down, or died trying already. "I don't think they'll find me." He was certainly doing everything he could to make sure they didn't.