"...Where... am I?" Confused, she turned around in a full circle again. She hadn't been able to track down anyone she was comfortable asking directions from... and while she was stuck within the walls of the school, she certainly didn't want to be stuck in her room the whole time. 

Hence why Shelby was standing in the middle of a hallway, her fold-up easel tucked under one arm and a bag slung over the other shoulder, attempting to make sense of where exactly she'd ended up lost. She knew there was a garden around the school somewhere, and had intended to go find herself a private corner close to the school where she could paint and get some fresh air at the same time. With how sunny it had looked outside, she was starting to regret the frumpy black sweat shirt she had on, and the dark sweat pants... but alas, she was also in dire need of being pointed in the direction of the laundry wing.

She glanced down at her wrist watch. She'd been wandering for a good ten minutes now. 

The pink haired girl sighed heavily, turning around to look the way she had come. Was it a left, a right, and a left again? Had she gone up stairs at some point? Down even? She couldn't recall. 

Shifting her bag to help alleviate some of the ache in her shoulder, she turned back around and continued on her way. Maybe if she just kept going she would loop back around, or run into someone she cold ask for directions.

She glanced behind her once again, squinting back into the hall with suspicion settled in her expression. She was still reeling from the possibility that she was being followed, by a cockroach of all things... though she hadn't physically seen a manifestation of one with her own eyes. It was still creepy though... like he was always watching her, and could just Poof! appear at any given moment. 

Her bag smacked into a clear vase filled with garden flowers as she passed, sending the glass shooting off the side table it live on and onto the floor. The resounding echo of shattering glass, and muffled cursing filled the hallway around her. She stopped, gingerly attempting to start picking up the broken shards while avoiding the spilled water and crumpled flowers.

Jack was on hall duty today. Typically, she preferred to be outside (either amongst the kids or on the perimeter) because it was more exciting out there. She could duck-in on any games the students had going-on or simply drink-in the scenery. Inside, your responsibilities were essentially babysitting. Make sure kids didn't run in the halls, make sure they destroy the living room in some form or fashion, and for God's sakes don't let the older ones break into Sam's private reserves of alcohol... so, boring.

The prawn shuffled along though, occasionally stopping to ruffle someone's hair or give a light fist bump. Maybe she would even stop to deride a student for staying inside on such a nice day.

Then, the sound of breaking glass reached her, and Jack's antennae perked. Not an unusal sound, in a mansion full of bumbling adolescents. God knew why the Headmaster insisted on having breakable things when there were a couple dozen superpowered teens cavorting about. It was a recipe for disaster. Jack trotted in the direction of the noise, despite her cross attitude. Had to be sure no one was hurt, after all. It was her job, as security, to make sure that students were safe.

Around the corner came Jack, lavender gaze befalling a pasty-faced, pink-haired young woman, and what probably once was a vase.

"Trying to take u' a career in hone decorating, kid?" Jack teased, running a large hand over her antennae, "You hurt?"

"Trying to take u' a career in hone decorating, kid? You hurt?"

She laughed, and had a retort primed and ready on the tip of her tongue for whoever the wise cracker was. Shelby picked up a large, pointy piece of glass and set it in one palm, as she turned to cast at glance at the speaker.

"AHHHH!!!"

She bolted. All she had seen was a Roach-shaped-person standing there before her, albeit with an entirely different paint job, to make the snap decision to run for it. The woman practically scrambled on all fours away, jolted to her feet and went sprinting down the hallway away from the figure.

In her flight, she hadn't even noticed that she'd squeezed her hand around the broken glass reflectively and given herself a decent cut, which trailed little droplets behind her as she ran in a frenzy.

The kid laughed, turned, and... Jack's antennae flattened and she squinted her eyes disapprovingly, shrinking back from the yell. What the f---? She expected that kind of reception out on the streets, but people in Xavier's usually gave a warmer reception than that.

And off like a shot, the pink-haired one went, up the hall and around the corner.

"Kid, wait!" Jack called-out, "You aren't in any trou'le. Chill!"

Jack walked with haste but didn't run. The last thing she needed was to be thundering down the hall after someone who was already obviously startled. Despite the benefit of long strides, however, the sound of retreating footsteps was hastily fading. The prawn groaned, rolling her eyes. She was inclined to just leave the twit and let them come around on their own. If they were well enough to turn tail, then they were fine, she assured herself.

She happened to glance towards the floor and saw a glimmer on the tile... tiny droplets of blood. It led from where Jack had come, the prawn noticed as she looked back, and proceeded ahead of her. Okay, so, maybe the kid was hurt. Sh--. That meant she really should go check on her.

With a huff the prawn set off up the hall, gaze trained on the floor. Occaisonally, she glanced up to look aroud and holler something to the kid.

"Are you new here?" she sang, "I'n Jack... I kee' duh nan-sion sase srom... well, whate'er..."

The blood droplets led around the corner.

"Kid?" Jack inquired, "You're getting 'lood all o'er e'eryt'ing... I can hel' you out... iss you stah- 'eing such a nut."

With a huff, Jack trudged onward.

"I work security, I ain't gonna gizz you any trou'le unless you are trou'le. Kid?"

Pain was what brought her back from panic. Well, mostly anyway. She had a small shallow cut in the Web of her hand between thumb and pointer finger. It also helped that she dropped her easel, and momentarily stopped to turn and look at it.

Then she heard the voice. Which caused her pause to linger as she really listened. That was not Roaches voice. Not the gleeful, accented atrocity that she was subjected to whenever she let her mind wander in that direction. Of course, she wasn't aware that the bug of her nightmares was entirely able to change his voice at will...but that was beside the point.

When jack rounded the corner, there Shelby stood. Hand gripped tightly in the other to stop the bleeding, wide eyes fully locked on her.

Shelby, though still quite terrified, took that precious moment to pick apart jack with her eyes, down to the finest detail. Sure... there were some very great similarities... but there were a lot of obvious differences too. Color aside.

"... y-you're really not him, are you?"

Jack surely didn't
understand what the he'll she was talking about. Shelby sounded crazy even to her own ears of the late. But it didn't stop a sudden overwhelming relief from washing through her, and she staggered onto her knees.

"... thank the gods.."

The kid was frozen like a deer in the headlights, her eyes roving over the prawn's face. Even with her surgical mask on, she was still quite the sight to behold. Jack wore a loose pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with the "Mansion Security" badge clipped to her shirt.

>> "... y-you're really not him, are you? ... thank the gods.."

"Not e-zen a "hin"," Jack confirmed lightly, sinking on her haunches as the young woman crumpled. She kept her distance, not knowing what the kid's powers were-- but gave the young woman the courtesy of sinking to eye-level with her. People tended to not be as cagey when the prawn made herself smaller, "Jack is short sore Jacquelyn. Not to nanny solks know dat, 'ut it's true."

Her voice had a low lilt to it, with the same baritone timber of a cello. The prawn's mandibles clenched. Someone had done a number on this one, Jack could only wager. She'd probably seen some sh--.

"I kee' duh Nan-sion say-s," Jack reiterated, "Nee and a whole lot o' uzzer solks do. So whoe'er 'he' is, he can't get you here."

The prawn would personally see to it. She would personally fight anyone who threatened a student of Xavier's. It didn't matter who they were, kids deserved better lives than she'd had.

But that was a topic for another day. Jack extended a primary hand, and waved the kid closer, "You're a hot s-reaking ness, kid. Where'd you cut yoursell-s? Cut dee'? Need to see DocPro-ss?"

The more she looked, the more different they became. Especially when it became clear that he was really a she. Awkwardness started to set in. "Jack?" She swallowed, glancing at her hand again. 

Then newly named Jack started to talk about how safe she was, and that there were a whole lot of other people watching over the mansion. She echoed Saph's words. Safe Why did she never feel safe, then?
Particularly now that she was sure that she was being followed. How often she didn't know.. but whatever the case it didn't help her mental standing. 

"You're a hot s-reaking ness, kid. Where'd you cut yoursell-s? Cut dee'? Need to see DocPro-ss?"

Really, she didn't understand half of that, but she got the message. She turned big, watery eyes back to Jack, bottom lip trembling despite her best efforts. "...I'm fine."

It came out like a squeak. She was ashamed. But, on the plus side, she also did't seem to be that injured. It was a good nick, but not nearly as bad as the blood would make it out to be. She shoved the injured area into her mouth on habit and sobbed.

>> "Jack?"

"Yeah," the prawn confirmed.

>> "...I'm fine."

As if to drive the point home, she stuck her hand in her mouth and promptly began bawling. Yeah. Right. "Fine". Jack shifted on her haunches, casting a glance around. While she thoroughly enjoyed her job at Xavier's, she still wasn't sure how to handle crying people, especially people she interpretted to be crying children or adolescents. When people cried, they got all snotty, and wet, and their faces got puffy, and they... just always seemed to want hugs or something. It was just... so... unsanitary?

First, Jack reached for her walkie, and quietly reported, "Could we get naintenance to duh East Hall near duh lied-rary? Dere's a 'roken... uh... urn-" "Vase" was a hard word. After a quiet confirmation, "-I'n wiss duh student right now..."

Jack clipped the walkie back onto her waistband, reached into her pocket, and fished out a travel-pack of tissues. She held the package out to the young woman before her, and said, "Sore your hand... or your say-ce... or whate'er..."

Whether the young lad's priority was to mop up her tears or stop the bleeding was up to her.

"What's your nay-n?" Jack said gently.

To her credit, she quietly attempted to gain control back over herself while Jack was contacting someone else. When the tissues were offered, she gladly accepted.

When Jack asked her for her name, she stumbled. "She-" She coughed. "Shy... I'm really shy." She paused, attempting to school her expression into a not-nervous-normal mask. "...i'm Heidi."

She'd almost blown the cover that Saph had given her! Cursing herself silently, she packed the tissue onto the small wound and averted her eyes. Her cover up had been bad. Cringe worthy. She really sucked at scrabble.

"T-thank you for the tissues."

>> "She- Shy... I'm really shy...i'm Heidi."

Thankfully for "Heidi", Jack was a "at face value" kind of gal. She found the stammering endearing, in a way, as if "Heidi" was trying to make excuses for why she'd previously run. Which, you know, showed that she might actually give a f--- about the prawn as a person with feelings.

"Is okay," Jack reassured her, "Hat-ens nor than you know? I was just really sur'rised."

>> "T-thank you for the tissues."

"No worries," Jack assured the young woman, finally rising off of her haunches, "You can kee' dem. In case you, like, take-out any nor... urns." The prawn made a light punch at the air, for emphasis.

And, with a casual salute, turned and began to shuffle off.

She was sure she had heard a 'happens more than you know' in there, and paled. Oh god, had she just become one of them? She felt the overwhelming need to clarify things, and struggled to her feet. "Jack, wait!"

Smuggling her easel under one arm, she hurried after the larger woman. "I-i wasn't screaming at you!" She started, and then immediately wondered if she was backing herself into a corner with her explanation. "There's this guy, uh... not that you are at all manly, and," Sh*t! She was totally backing herself into a corner. She shrugged her bag back up onto her shoulder awkwardly. "Well anyway, this guy is a total psychopath." Cringe "Not that you look like a psychopath either."

She sighed, giving up on the bag as it kept slipping back down. "Look, I got attacked by some creep not too long ago and he looked kinda like you. When I saw you, not even all of you.. just parts... I thought it was him. I freaked out." Her cheeks reddened and she swallowed. "I apologize for that... I most definitely not would have screamed at you like that had I not already been.." She struggled for a word to describe how she felt,scrunching her eyebrows above her glasses. "Damaged by some monster out in the city."

Jack wasn't the guilt-tripping/pity-party sort, to be honest. She had simply meant that having people react to her with fear or alarm happened so frequently, it'd become commonplace. It was sort-of like being a chubby woman mistaken as pregnant-- sure, the first few times, it hurt, but after Instance #6 of being asked "When you're due", all semblance of offence or hurt dissipated, and what was left was a fairly realistic self-perception and lighthearted self-deprecation. The same went for Jack and her seven-foot-tall iridescence. Loud, screechy receptions was just part and parcel for the course.

>> Jack, wait!"

"I can get duh kleenexes s-run you later," Jack reassured her, turning on her heel, "I really don't nine'd."

Sometimes the prawn was stupid-dense.

>> "I-i wasn't screaming at you! There's this guy, uh... not that you are at all manly, and, well anyway, this guy is a total psychopath. Not that you look like a psychopath either."

The prawn let Heidi stammer through her explanation, tucking her thumbs in her pants pockets as she listened. What a nice kid. She genuinely cared about Jack's feelings, although really, there was no hurt there. Even if Heidi wasn't screaming "at her", she'd still screamed at her nonetheless. And that was fine. It was natural.

>> "Look, I got attacked by some creep not too long ago and he looked kinda like you. When I saw you, not even all of you.. just parts... I thought it was him. I freaked out. I apologize for that... I most definitely not would have screamed at you like that had I not already been.. Damaged by some monster out in the city."

"Shanks," Jack chirred, rocking on her heels, "No oss-ense taken. Es'ecially iss I look like sun-one who hurt you 'e-sore. I nean, to dis day, I still has trou'le wiss... cots. You know, law en-source-nent? Dey scare nee e'en doh I has stayed outta trou'le sore a long tine."

It was a part of survival. Avoid dangerous things by making snap-judgements about them, and consequently live to see another day. That's how the streets were. And those lessons came with you when you went into buildings. If anyone could understand that, it was Jack.

"I was in a gang," Jack told Heidi, nodding her head, "Cuz ny solks kicked nee out when I was in junior high, and I needed sun-one to look as-ter nee. I learned to nake snat judge-nents. Dat's how I... well, didn't die."

So the kid should be afraid of the world, right. Jack grimaced, and placed a reassuring hand on Heidi's shoulder, "I'n not saying to 'e scared uzz e'erysing. I'n just saying that 'eing scared is sun-tines good and you shouldn't 'e sorry sore it."

Then the prawn realized that she was getting soapbox-y, and maybe all up in Heidi's personal space, and pocketed her thumbs again, offering an awkward smile.

"Shanks, No oss-ense taken. Es'ecially iss I look like sun-one who hurt you 'e-sore. I nean, to dis day, I still has trou'le wiss... cots. You know, law en-source-nent? Dey scare nee e'en doh I has stayed outta trou'le sore a long tine."

She smiled, and let out a tired chuckle. It looked liked she truly hadn't offended the woman. That was good, she generally tried her best not to be a jerk without reason. Then jack started to fill her in on why she was used to it, a little bit of back story for her. Shelby listened quietly, her eyes focused on Jack. Considering her own background, she couldn't necessarily identify with most of the story. She did understand it, though. It was startlingly common for parents to kick out children who suddenly developed mutations one day. So much so that many orphanages around the states were over full of them vs kids who lacked the gene. Her gaze softened, but she tried not to let her empathy show to much. Many misidentified it as pity... herself included.

She also noticed how there were similarities between Jack's story and Saph. Mostly terminology. The whole 'had to do it so I wouldn't die' thing. That was what Shelby struggled to understand. It was foreign to her. She had been raised by pretty well off parents, and even after a messy divorce it was unheard of for her or her siblings to really want for anything. She had never been forced to scavenge for food (well, aside from her first year in college while she was still figuring things out) and had never had to worry about having someone to look out for her until... well, until very recently.

"I suppose your right, but... at the same time it's who I am as a person. I hate feeling like i've judged someone before I really get to know them." She paused, adjusting her bag strap once and for all. "Heck, one of my best friends wasn't the easiest person to get along with as a "human"," She used air quotes, since she hardly ever used that word to define the differences between mutants and non-mutants. A quirky smile appeared on her face, "Back where I come from there's a girl who strikingly resembles a parrot. The first time I ever met her I just could not stop staring, and she got fed up with me and got up in my face about it."

It had been intimidating, sure. Having a very ticked off girl with feathers all standing on end literally scream in your face wasn't the easiest thing to deal with for anyone, let alone a school hermit who didn't have many friends.

"She wanted to know what was wrong with me, called me a buncha names... and I told her that I thought she was really beautiful. I'm an art junkie, so she looked like someone I really wanted to paint." She patted her easel, "You should have seen her deflate. I just took the wind right out of her sails. We were really good friends after that." Ahem...Friends.

.... She couldn't remember why she'd gotten into the story. What had been her point? Blushing, she pushed on. "Anyway... yeah, I agree with you. But it still would have felt wrong to me if I hadn't have clarified it."

Fears assuaged, the girl opened up like a fount of words unspoken rattling on about some parrot-girl and getting to know people for who they really are, and appreciating differences, yadda yadda. Jack nodded with the attentiveness of a teen in their weakest subject. The lights were on, but no one was home. But she managed to keep-up with appropriate emotional responses, so that was good! She reflected the smile with a noncommital chuckle and smile of her own.

Finally, Heidi dropped-off of from her description, and the prawn pocketed her hands. She supposed now would be the time to verbally respond. Jack rocked on her feet, "I'n glad dat you did. And I'n sure dat your sss-riend was sur'rised and delighted dat you weren't staring in an unkind way."

Dating Zinnia, the prawn was steadily growing familiar with kind stares. Not only "kind" stares, but loving ones. Most times the prawn would tilt a grin her girlfriend's way and go, "What?"

Sometimes there would be laughter, maybe a shrug, but it was always the same-- it was always a game of catching glances and conversing with their eyes.

Jack gestured to Heidi, and started to meander up the hall, beckoning her to follow, "Don't wanna 'lock duh hall."

"Dat's really cool, dat you do art," Jack commented, seeing an avenue of conversation she could actually engage in. She dug into her pocket, fishing-out some of her tiny wood sculptures. None of them were larger than a few inches, most were a little rough around the edges and rather unfinished looking, "I do woodcar-zing and such like dat. Which I guess is really diss-erent, 'esides duh naking sings."

She held the sculptures in an outstretched palm, casually. She wasn't one to exactly go around showing her projects to everyone, but she kept some small trinkets or works-in-progress in her pockets should she ever need them.

She followed after, head tilted slightly as she pieced together what the woman was saying.

Olivia sure had been surprised by it, and with the developments that came after Shelby felt safe assuming she was delighted by it as well. The blush refused to budge.

She honestly waiting for Jack to tell her to get lost already... but instead she brought up art. The artist watched as she fished around and eventually withdrew a few little carvings. Immediately her curious side emerged and she reached for them as they were offered.

"I do woodcar-zing and such like dat. Which I guess is really diss-erent, 'esides duh naking sings."

She shook her head, not bothering to look as Jack as she studied the figures. ".. It's not really all that different." She started, turning one of them over in her hand. "It all comes from the same place, we just use different implements in order to achieve our visions."

The carvings were fairly detailed, if a little unfinished. She could see the talent in them though, and marveled at how Jack had managed to get some of the intricate parts done. Personally, she could paint pretty dang well. She had a pretty good grasp of proportions and shades. She had dabbled in other forms of art, but tended to do a lot better with things she could mold and push around. Wood, stone... heck, even photography tended to be her weaknesses. She just couldn't get them to look like she wanted them too.

"What do you use to carve them? There are a lot of fine details."