He was going to jump out of his skin at this rate. Shed it like he shed his fur when noise pounded through his skull, only instead of a point of noise it was everything, all around him, this entire situation and the inescapability of it.

He hadn't put himself in this situation. Not the whole of it, not the core of it. He'd put himself into the local situation in order to avoid a worse overall situation, and now he was second-guessing it.

Lying in the dark didn't help.  He got that.  But he couldn't bring himself to pretend he was like the people on the other side of the door.  He didn't act like them and he definitely didn't think like them.  Maybe he had more in common with the hybrid than he'd thought.  He hadn't really given Tyson much thought at all.  Not really.  He was too busy with his own situation.

Adder's senses weren't new, but the sheer amount of society surrounding him was, and he didn't want to drown.

That left him with two options.  Stay in the closet forever, and go even more hungry than when he had to scrounge for everything that went into his mouth.  Or go out again, and try to get a little more used to this place.

Used to it... hah.

A chance was better than a negative guarantee.  He'd tell himself that as much as he needed to in order to keep on going.  He'd done it before, and survived as a result.  It was all he had to do now, right?  Just keep reminding himself that there was a chance of survival here.  A better chance than he had on the streets.  He wasn't here forever.  He didn't do forever.

But for now, he had a better chance here than out there, if only because people like Aura would have to wade through a sea of rich teenagers to get to him, and might well be distracted by them all on their own.  A better chance was the chance he had to take.

Adder kept telling himself that, lips moving slightly with each mental repetition, as he crept down the hallway.  Being out here for a multiple of a time didn't ease the tension.  Instead, it seemed to make it worse.  He was more aware now that a horde could race towards him at any moment, or any sort of unpredicted phenomenon.  There was no control here, and skirting around the edges of control danger was risky enough.

Was this really a better chance?

Adder's expression changed abruptly as a single familiar scent drifted past on the quiet air currents of a ventilated building.  One familiar thing, if only briefly.  He wasn't looking for protection from Cafas or anything, and he definitely wasn't trying to not be alone.  Alone was safer, and far more familiar than the metal-tang exhaust-tainted X-Man.

He just needed something more familiar than his current surroundings, so he followed the scent with all the stealth of a wolf down a mansion hallway.  Even if he weren't currently wearing fur and a tail.

The worst part of waking up was getting out of bed. It used to be easy, when she was alone. She'd gotten used to popping out of the covers like she was being ejected from a TV toaster, spring-loaded. Now? Her snuggle buddy Cafas was a black hole. She would never have gotten up this late a year ago.

Mmm. Toast actually sounded good. Toast and cinnamon sugar. Maybe pan fry some spinach and an egg... tea. Food was really just about the sum of all her thoughts at the moment. She could probably fry up a half dozen for Cafas, too. That guy ate like a monster.

Maya steered herself straight to the kitchen and went straight for the walk-in pantry.

The Mansion never disappointed in the pantry department.

She rummaged for her ingredients, some would be in the fridge, but the majority of what she wanted was in here.

Slinking along, weight so low that he was crouching through every step and his belly would have been on the floor if he were creeping on four feet, Adder edged down the hallway. Stairs were faster: they were more exposed, and after a long pause at the first step he darted across the entire flight like it was ice splashed with oil and alcohol.

Alcohol made ice slippery, okay. Spend enough winters in a city and it was going to come up eventually. Cold drunk rich people were clumsy.

He paused at the doorway to the kitchen, nostrils flaring and ears spread at the memory of running into someone here before. There was always someone here when he happened past it. Normally he just kept going like it was completely intentional, that he had somewhere else to be.

His tired stomach called out for the food that radiated from that room, and his nose assured him that it was Cafas inside, so he took a step in -

and froze, because that was definitely not Cafas, but she smelled like Cafas except maybe diluted if he were trying really, really hard to make it make sense? His heart pounded at his nose's betrayal, at the sensory failure, and he tried to convince his stomach that bolting was the best plan.

Who put the bread up that high? Really. Maya clipped it with the tips of her fingers and juuuust managed to tip it into her waiting arms. Perfect. She felt someone move into the door, but that was no big deal. It wasn't like there'd be a threat inside the Mansion.

"I'll be out of your hair in a second." He might not have made much noise, but he did have mass and that displaced the air. This close? Nobody could sneak up on her. Oooh! Was that peppermint tea? She juggled all the things in order to grab the box.

"Are you hungry?" She turned and noticed several things immediately. They were nearly the same height and his eyes, while seemingly more yellow than hers, were strikingly similar in shade. It gave her pause. "Ah. Excuse me." She turned to her side and made motions so that he would let her and her armful through. Her bounty spilled across the kitchen counter and, surprisingly, only the sesame seeds spilled. Somebody didn't put the lid back on right.

"I'm cooking eggs and toast and spinach. I won't force greens on you, though... let's be honest, everyone could stand to eat a few more vegetables amiright?" She moved about the space with complete confidence and familiarity. It was more than being at home in a kitchen, it was being at home in this kitchen.

Steel pan, a bit of oil, gas range on medium. The flames licked out from under the silver and leaned toward her, but just didn't have the legs to reach her. She went for the eggs, grabbed one carton, peeked out from behind the fridge door at the kid and then grabbed a second. Any time someone started cooking, hungry mouths soon followed.

"I'm Maya, but a lot of people know me by my team name: Ghost." She kept her hands busy, back and forth between the fridge, the trash can, and the sink. "Oh plates. Could you grab a few?"

While the initial crush of shock faded, the shock itself did not. Adder remained precisely where he stood and tried to hear through the sound of blood coursing through the bases of his ears.

Not only one sense failing him in some way, but the two he depended on most. He fought to regain some sort of stability, but then the woman-who-smelled-mostly-of-Cafas started talking to him, and he edged back before he could catch himself.

Might as well have every nerve strung up like street lights in December, for all that he had any amount of buffer left on them. Too much, too much, too much. He wanted something to not be too much, but here was a stranger who smelled of someone he vaguely knew and acted like people he'd nearly forgotten.

He'd remember them for as long as he remembered fire, though, even if the unwilling association still unsettled him.

Who was he trying to kid? There was nothing left that was settled enough to unsettle.

He moved backwards, more hesitant than usual with the recent reason to suspect his primary senses, and left more than enough space for the woman to pass. He still had no words, nothing of any sort to say. Even his stomach held quiet for now, even at the blunt offer of food.

Adder wasn't going to really turn down food, but right now hunger really wasn't the biggest thing pounding inside his head.

As she passed by, Adder was at least able to get a better fix on her scent, and pick out that the metallic wisps were just going for a ride rather than emanating from her. She was... sharp, like a collection of electrical sparks, but the subtler scents binding it together were much softer.

He shook his head and tried to stop thinking about it. Scent-headaches perched right between his eyes and took so long to go away, probably because there was no real way to stop smelling. He stepped a bit closer to the food instead, since it was at least something specific to do, but immediately moved back when the woman threw a request at him.

How the hell was he supposed to know where plates were?

She'd been sure that the kid would bolt, but in the end her inane babbling did as it usually did. The tractor beam engaged.

To his amusingly bewildered expression Maya motioned with her head over her shoulder. "These cabinets behind me. Third to the left from the fridge. Top row. It's fine to poke around 'till you find them." She flipped the knob to light the oven. The plates wouldn't be too heavy if she handled them one at a time.

He hadn't said a word yet. Maya stirred and seasoned, flipped and toasted. Managing quite a few pans all at once wasn't as worrisome as a teen who looked like a kid who'd been kicked one too many times. She'd seen that look before at orphanages or on the faces of the kids who'd lived on the street.

Time. Well, time and space. That was what generally worked for her before in these situations.

She hummed, having mostly run out of words by now. No point in not having fun with it and there really was a rhythm to cooking. Mansion kids were going to flip out when they woke up to real, actual, already cooked, non-cereal breakfast.

She'd given him directions, so now the question was simply if he would get the plates.

When was the last time he'd even used a plate? A real plate too, not a paper one that in all likelihood he'd pulled out of the trash. This wasn't the sort of place to use paper plates. They'd at least be like his parents had. Possibly more fireproof, given the rate of mutant kids.

Somehow still too soon.

Adder waited until she'd turned her attention back to her cooking, and then padded over to the indicated cabinets. Third to the left from the fridge... He pulled it open, was momentarily distracted by the smoothness of the knob, and let his ears swivel with success when he saw the plates. Was it really 'letting' them? He felt too stretched to have enough slack to 'let' anything do anything.

Food. Food always helped, except when his stomach was way more wrung out than it was now. Food would help.

He pulled a couple of plates out of the cupboard and nearly made himself bolt at the click they made against the counter. And then had to make himself take a few careful moments to relax again.

This was all... it was all weird. So weird. So incredibly weird.

Okay so scrambled eggs went onto one plate nearly as soon as the boy had set them down. "Thanks." Maya smiled without guile, more focused on not dropping the pan than watching the guy. The open flame of the range, now freed from its pan oppression waggled and reached for Maya. Fire liked her. She did not like it. So she shut the burner off as soon as possible.

"There's cheese in one of the plastic organizers in the refrigerator, if you like scrambled eggs grab some. I'll put the rest in the oven to keep warm when you've got your fill."

She pulled a plate for the wilted spinach and tossed the few remaining sesame seeds on top. Toast? Well, she'd only pan-fried a couple pieces between everything else so she cut what she had into triangles so it'd go further. It was probably better fresh for everyone else so she'd leave the bread out next to the slotted toaster on the counter-top.

She nudged a glass shaker of cinnamon sugar toward the toast plate. It wasn't her thing, but kids loved it.

Maya busied herself with making a plate for Cafas and arranging the other leftovers in a way that let everyone know the food was up for grabs. She would have to wash the pans in a bit, for now Maya gathered up the rest of the spices and pantry sundry. The kid could come or go, talk or not talk. Maya wasn't bothered in the least.

Adder eyed the freed flame with the guarded suspicion of someone who had literally been burned before, but at least managed to keep from compulsively rubbing his scars. Time eased some things, at least, and he only hesitated for a few more heartbeats after the woman killed the fire.

After that, he kind of just warily eyed the food. He wasn't stupid; he knew that simply eating as he normally did was going to be just as out of place here as he was. Things that were out of place got noticed, they got focus and usually efforts to remove them. He wanted to stay in the background and be unnoticed. It was safer.

He gradually moved closer to the food, and on his way actually opened his mouth. "Why do you smell like Cafas?" he asked, bluntly. It was probably just close, recent contact, but he guessed he was looking more for information on the metal guy. Always information. Information let him be safe.

His question didn't bother or even surprise Maya. She had a 3 year old with no shame and surprising nasal acuity. She'd already been grilled on this point.

"At this point, I mostly live at his house. Sometimes we stay here, sometimes there." She smiled and lifted the plate. "I'll be back. Seriously, you'll want to grab some before the other guys wake up." Maya lifted the plate she'd put together in a sort of salute and went to the stairs behind the pantry. She disappeared up them two at a time, carefully balancing the plate the entire time.

It didn't take long. Just a quick jog across the gallery on light feet and she was into the adult hall. She left the plate on the bed-side table and scooted right back out the door.

Maya dropped down the stairs 3 at a time. She was out of breath by the time she picked out a mug for her tea. "Thirsty?" She stepped aside leaving the cupboard open to display the cups, tumblers, and mugs and went to fetch the kettle. She should have started it before she left!

Oh. Girlfriend or whatever it was. Adder accepted that and marked the mixed scents as logical, and lapsed into wary silence again.

And then casually ate more than his fair share of the food within sight while she was gone, plus a few stealthy handfuls of assorted things in the fridge. He didn't have time to make it into the pantry, not with an aborted detour to the sink; he was aiming for a drink, but caught the sound and scent of Maya coming back down the stairs.

When she reentered, he was more or less exactly where he had been, although now he was leaning a tiny bit against the counter he'd been near. It was actually a mark of some degree of relaxation for him; leaning against things left scent there, scent that was easier to detect and track than anything on the air, and it was something subconsciously done with either intent - declaring that yes, he had been there - or without concern. Without worrying that he was a little more involved in the world he skirted around.

Part of that was the relative calm of having just one person around, especially a person with a familiar connection and the sort of mood that didn't force or shy away from others. Part of it was the amount of food he'd just consumed, even if made no visible impact on his excessive leanness and the clear lines of his bones.

Another part of it was that yes, he was thirsty, and quietly curious about drinking something other than just water of debateable cleanliness. Or coffee and random other things that people left behind. He avoided the alcohol people occasionally forgot about, but nearly everything else was fair game.

He hesitated a while more, and then stepped forward to take down a mug with a distinctly forced level of stubbornness.

Maya fussed with the kettle and primed her mug with its tea bag. She offered the box to the kid in case he wanted some before she tidied it away. "There are other flavors in the pantry if you want. This is herbal so that means no caffeine." Caffeine was something people were worried about in the morning, right?

She noticed a pretty hefty dent had been made in the eggs while she was away. She... hadn't taken that long. The boy didn't seem to chewing. He must have gobbled them down, a mental image that was amusing until she started to think about the root of why someone might do such a thing. Maya overturned a plate to top the egg plate and closed the plate-container into the oven.

"Do you know Cafas very well?" Maya glanced around for her book, had she brought it down? Maybe she could wander over to the sitting area and nab one so that her friend wouldn't feel obligated to answer.

The kettle clicked. Maya poured some for herself and left the handle turned out toward the guy.

He hadn't shared his name either, but then when she was first a mutant on the lam, neither did she.

Adder peered at the tea bag. He'd seen people drinking tea before. He knew what it was, he just... couldn't remember if he'd ever had fresh tea before. Maybe when he was a kid? If so, it was uncommon enough not to be automatically accepted but common enough not to stand out in his memories. More likely, he just hadn't had fresh tea before.

At any rate, how was he supposed to pick a flavour? Time for the easy route; he moved over to take a tea bag, both looking and feeling bolder than before, and then kind of squished it between his fingertips while he watched Maya. Not hard, just to feel what was inside, and absently so.

He also carefully marked where the eggs were going, entirely so he could see about raiding the rest the next time he was alone. He wasn't hungry anymore, not in his usual terms, but he wasn't falling asleep from satiation. That was really the only overeating marker he ever made it to. He'd over-gorged once in his life, that he knew of, but a lot of rare coincidences and luck went into that particular situation.

Oh, more talking. "Not well," he answered, and then continued after a brief hesitation while Maya looked around. "He helped me out a bit." He would have survived without the help, but objectively speaking he had come out of the crowd better with Cafas' help than he would have purely on his own. Enough time had passed for him to be more objective about it, and not just be bothered by running into Cafas.

He was still a bit bothered by it. He just wasn't only bothered by it.

Oh, tea! Adder copied Maya from memory on the bag, and when she was well out of the way he hesitantly and carefully poured hot water into the mug as well. How much? He hadn't seen, and so he settled for maybe three-quarters full; full enough to be substantial-ish, but not so full that he'd knock steaming water on himself just by existing. He wasn't interested in scalding himself.

...how was he supposed to drink it if he was worried about it hurting his skin? His mouth was way more sensitive than his hand.

Of course Cafas helped the kid. Maya expected no less than that. She stole an abandoned copy of a fiction novel while the guy got his tea. Something about a blind man and a maze. It looked interesting. She found herself a seat by the window that overlooked the garden and, since no one else was up, Maya set her bare feet up in one of the empty chairs around the table.

It was a perfect lazy morning. She cracked the book open and took a sip of her tea oblivious to how hot it was. Her temperature sensitivity was not what it used to be. It wasn't until she'd actually cracked the book open that she realized that Maya hadn't gotten any breakfast for herself. Hmm.

She abandoned the book and cup and grabbed herself a plate. Maya wasn't the type to need constant chatter, if he wanted to talk, he'd talk. If not, they'd still have a nice breakfast.

Cradling the threateningly hot mug between his hands, shifting the pressure from one side to the other to let his skin cool before overheating, Adder trailed after Maya. He wasn't quite sure what she was doing now, and honestly he got even more lost when she just sat down and put her feet up.

This was what rich people did? Just sat around?

It was bewildering, but felt like it kind of made sense. They weren't working every moment to find food and stay warm - or cool, depending on the season. They just had it all around. What were they supposed to do with the rest of the time?

On the occasions he'd mused about it before, Adder had always quickly answered the corollary, what would he do with that time, with sleep. Except now he couldn't sleep.

Oops, he'd held onto the mug with one hand for too long. He shifted to hold it with just the other hand, and pressed the warm skin of the lightly abused hand to his cheek. Warm...

He stood around awkwardly for a little bit longer, and when he couldn't feel any more stray warmth from his hand he glanced around the mostly-empty room. Should he sit down too? What else was he going to do? After some consideration, he gingerly perched in one of the upholstered chairs kinda-sorta near Maya. He sat on his feet, knees neatly folding his bony legs beneath him, and faced into the room so that he could see all of the entrances, even if it meant not really being able to see Maya. He could hear her, and smell her individually now. Besides, if she were talking then it would be even easier to keep track of her.

When she returned from collecting her own food, he wrestled with words for a bit and then spoke quietly. "Do you like it here?"