(OOC: Open to anyone, so Iris can meet a few people before leaving again. Continued from Getting Patched Up

Timeline - 2 days after Resistance Meeting, just after dawn. Iris currently has short, black hair and grey eyes (she hasn't put in her contacts yet, lol))

Iris attempted to follow the directions she was given, noting along the way how active this place was in the early hours. She wasn’t surprised by any means; it seemed that mainly people who rarely woke or worked early were always amazed that others did so willingly. She managed to find the Canteen without too much trouble, though the latter half of her trek was aided a great deal by her nose. More specifically, the smell of coffee.

Her first stop, without hesitation, was the coffee dispenser where she downed a cup very rapidly, seemingly without noticing the heat or bitterness. The second cupful, by contrast, was mostly milk and sugar with just a bit of coffee flavoring in it. Her mind now balanced by her initial caffeine and sugar quota, she turned to see what she could find to nourish the rest of her body.

While the majority of the fare appealed to breakfast goers, and rightly so considering the hour, Iris bypassed most of it. Instead she made her way to the cooler that housed the sandwiches and salads and, after a quick appraisal, pulled out a Turkey Club. She glanced around and spied a microwave nearby. While the sandwich blasted for fifteen, twenty seconds, she snagged a token breakfast biscuit, drenched it in honey and butter, and munched while she waited. A deep yawn escaped her just as the microwave dinged.

After a long search, Voltaire managed to find the canteen.He was still wearing his long coat with his hood covering his face. He looked around and saw all kinds of people aching for a breakfast. Most of them didn't look like morning people at all. He quickly moved to the waterboiler. Nobody was standing there because most of the people wanted a cup of coffee and not tea. The waterboiler had a few cups of hot water standing in front of it. He took one of the cups for himself and took from his pocket a bag of herbal thee. He started dipping his teabag in the hoshame!er as he took a sandwich from the fridge. He looked for a microwave to heat it up a bit and saw a young lady with short black hair standing in front of the microwave. He moved towards the microwave and stopped right behind the young woman. "Excuse me" Voltaire said. "I am not good with machines, could you heat this up for me?" He asked shyly

"Excuse me."

Iris flinched as a new person came up behind her.

"I am not good with machines, could you heat this up for me?"

"Sure." She nodded and did as asked. She smiled politely, since he seemed friendly enough. But since her first visit to the Labs had not been what it had seemed, she was highly distrustful of anyone she met there now. The hood covering his face didn't help.

The microwave dinged again, and she handed the man his sandwich. "Here you go."

He was quite a few inches shorter than she was, so her first instinct was to make herself shorter, which in this case involved sitting down at a nearby table. She still wasn't sure if Hunter had been telling the truth about organizing the Resistance, nor was she comfortable being in this place on her own. She was shy by nature anyway, and recent events had reinforced that. She didn't want to be rude, but combination of not knowing if this person was a mutant or not, not knowing if he was in Hunter's employ or not, and being in unfamiliar territory, resulted in an awkward silence on Iris's part.

Reflexively she scratched at her shoulder.

((ooc: I'm setting this before the "Cats can't see color, tigers can't purr" thread in Calley's timeline, for anyone concerned.))

So... Burly solider men at that table, burly soldier men at that table, scary looking person sitting all alone and stabbing a steak repeatedly at that table, or black-haired girl talking to inept microwave operator at that table. His choice of seating arrangements practically made itself. That tended to happen a lot, when he came to the canteen. And he did tend to come to the canteen a lot, lately. What with the ravenous appetite and all.

He set his tray down near the woman, full of its greasy hash brown and bacon load. With toast! Buttered toast. A rather large stack of buttered toast, to go with the pile of hash browns and the finely sliced dead pig. She wasn't wearing a uniform, so that made her either a mutant, or a scientist. With his luck: violent mutant scientist. Wouldn’t it be great if she was Doc Jimmy’s estranged daughter?

"Umm, excuse me, ma'am, I don't mean to interrupt or intrude or anything, but would you mind if I sat here? Instead of with the burly soldier people." He nodded his head in agreement with his own decision. He only remembered that the lime green squeaky hedgehog was riding atop his head when it came tumbling down, and rolled across the floor to hit the shoe of the red-haired guy. Correction: not shoes; army boots. Off-duty soldier guy? He didn't look quite as burly as the rest of Hunter's men. And come to think of it, Calley had never seen an off-duty guard around here. It was like Hunter disapproved of them wasting valuable guarding time, or something.

"Ack! Umm, sorry—let me just, ah, get that." He chased the lime green squeaky hedgehog across the floor, and shoved it safely into his pocket. There was no need for his squeaky to be bothering the nice potentially violent people that Calley had never even seen before. Something Calley had realized about himself, recently: he really, really didn't like meeting new people. If Hunter was going to keep dragging in all sorts of strays from the streets, it might be a very good idea for him to spend some quality time as a cat. Funny how most people didn't mind him as a cat.

Anyways, moral of the story: he backed over to his tray, and attempted to look at both the man and the woman without actually making eye contact (it was a sign of aggression in most species, you know). "I'm a quick eater. Calley. Is... my name. Nice to meet you. I'm just going to sit down and stop talking now. Thanks."

"Umm, excuse me, ma'am, I don't mean to interrupt or intrude or anything, but would you mind if I sat here? Instead of with the burly soldier people."

She nodded politely at another's request. Since she was looking down, didn't see the boy approach. In her shyness she didn't even notice the odd wording.

Plus, she was suddenly distracted at the sight of something bright green rolling across the floor and rather offended-sounding SQUEEE!!. Was that a dog toy??

"Ack! Umm, sorry—let me just, ah, get that." The person retrieve the injured noisemaker, and Iris's eyebrows went up in surprise, both at the boy's apparent age and thinness. He didn't look any older than sixteen, maybe, and he was thin as a rail.

"I'm a quick eater. Calley. Is... my name. Nice to meet you. I'm just going to sit down and stop talking now. Thanks."

There was enough food on his plate to feed a body-builder.... Then again, that wasn't unusual. She'd seen a 95 pound girl outeat a 289 man at the State Fair cheesecake eating contest. A person's stomach could stretch just like any other muscle. Still, he was awfully skinny.....

"Um... no worries. I think." She looked up at the hooded man, as if asking confirmation. "I'm Iris." If nothing else, Calley's little squeaker had broken the silence, even if she did still feel a bit awkward.

She took a small bite of her sandwich and ate quietly for a moment. But eventually she couldn't resist.

"Can you really eat all that? And fast? Without getting sick?" <"Especially with all of that grease?"> she wanted to add, but didn't. Some people had iron stomachs after all...

"Sure." She nodded and did as asked. She smiled politely, since he seemed friendly enough. But since her first visit to the Labs had not been what it had seemed, she was highly distrustful of anyone she met there now. The hood covering his face didn't help.

The microwave dinged again, and she handed the man his sandwich. "Here you go."

Voltaire took the sandwich and said" Thanks" with a faint smile. He saw how the young woman sat down at a table. Suddenly a lime green squeaky hedgehog hit his boot. He looked down to see a feline person chasing it. He found it amusing and weird that a feline would be in the canteen. But then again, this place is for mutants. He saw the feline person sit down next to the young woman that helped him earlier. He walked towards the table that they sat down on and said:" Sorry to bother you again." "Mind if i sit there" he asked shyly again.

((ooc: Ah! Quick note, Voltaire--Calley has no visible mutations. If you check his profile, he looks like just a regular boy: brown hair, brown eyes, a little short, very skinny. His power is to change into any animal, and cats are his favorite--but you would have no way of knowing that.))

"Um... no worries. I think. I'm Iris."

Calley attempted to look cute and likeable. “Thank you, Miss Iris.”

Mr. Microwave seemed just as hesitant about joining the black-haired woman’s table as Calley was. Excellent: that meant the two didn’t already know each other. Probably. “Mind if I sit there?” The guy asked. Calley shook his head slightly: nope, he didn’t mind.

"Can you really eat all that? And fast? Without getting sick?" The woman impulsively asked.

Calley couldn’t help giving a little impish grin over at her, after swallowing his current mouthful of hash browns. “Nope! I’m going to be violently ill over both of you.” He wiped the grin off of his face, and tried to look cute and likeable again. “Yeah, actually. I’ll probably be hungry again in about an hour, too.” More like five minutes. “I think it’s something to do with my mutation, but...” He gave a shrug. “Not really sure. Still figuring all that out. What about you? If I may ask. I mean, not what you’re eating, just... are you a mutant? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It’s just that from what I’ve seen, everyone in this building looks like either a solider, a scientist, or a refugee. Or one of Hunter’s little gang. I was from the Mansion, personally. Until... that whole... robots-boom-police-‘Put your hands up!’ thing.” He leaned forward, looking at the red-haired man past Iris. “What about you? What’s your name? Do you work for Hunter? You have army boots. Your hair is a cool color.” He clamped his mouth shut with an effort, and sat back down like a normal, non-hyperactive teenager.

(OOC, i'm sorry about that mistake calley, i was't sure about your appearence so i just posted it as feline person. Thought it would fit you =p)

“What about you? What’s your name? Do you work for Hunter? You have army boots. Your hair is a cool color.” He clamped his mouth shut with an effort, and sat back down like a normal, non-hyperactive teenager."

"Thank you for the complement." said Voltaire. Voltaire took a sip of his tea and took a deep breath. He leaned forward with his head and said:"People call me Voltaire.""I don't work for hunter, i came here to take refuge from the registration and join the resistance." "My ability makes hiding in the open a bit hard." "It's actually my first day here" He said with a faint smile."It's all pretty new to me". He said after he took another sip from his tea. "So what about you two?" he continued. "what are your stories?"

Iris moved over slightly to allow the man to sit. "No bother," she replied quietly, still a bit tense. A small smile did part her lips though when Calley joked about being sick, then remarked about being hungry again in an hour. Maybe the teen was going through a growth spurt? She'd gone through something similar at about fifteen.

“I think it’s something to do with my mutation, but... Not really sure. Still figuring all that out."

Okay. A mutant growth spurt then....

"What about you? If I may ask. I mean, not what you’re eating, just... are you a mutant? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It’s just that from what I’ve seen, everyone in this building looks like either a solider, a scientist, or a refugee. Or one of Hunter’s little gang."

"Mutant, yes. But none of the above categories," she replied with a shrug. Then added, "Well, maybe a refugee, I suppose. If you want to be technical."

"I was from the Mansion, personally. Until... that whole... robots-boom-police-‘Put your hands up!’ thing.”

"You were there?" she asked, a bit sharply without meaning to. Realizing it, she tried to explain away her interest. "I, uh, stayed there for a little while recently. Not long though. I have-had.... things I needed to deal with." Well, so much for covering up the slip. Fortunately Calley moved on to question the man, so she hope she wouldn't have to explain further.

"People call me Voltaire. I don't work for Hunter, I came here to take refuge from the registration and join the resistance. My ability makes hiding in the open a bit hard."

Iris relaxed a bit hearing neither of them worked for Hunter, supposedly anyway. She took a deep breath. Was she ever not going to be paranoid again?

"It's actually my first day here. It's all pretty new to me. So what about you two? What are your stories?"

Now that was a loaded question, or rather, a loaded answer.....

Iris scratched at her shoulder again. "Long and complicated," she replied with a sigh. "It's my first day here, too. Erm, morning, actually. I arrived last night. I think." She checked her watch to be sure of the time. "Yeah, last night. I heard there was a Resistance gathering, and was persuaded to join."

She realized her tone was a tad bitter, and suddenly her appetite was gone as well. She glanced over at the steadily decreasing stack on Calley's place. Pinching off of the end she'd bitten, she held out the sandwich to him. "Want the rest?" she asked with a sigh.

She stood up and picked up another cup of coffee, this one more coffee and less sugar, and then returned to the table.

((ooc: No problem, Voltaire. If you ever have questions about a character’s appearance, remember: most of us link to our profiles from our signatures. In my case, clicking the lime green squeaky hedgehog would take you to Calley’s info. ))

“You were there?" Calley recoiled from her sharp tone, not quite sure what he’d done wrong. Ignorance, he’d learned, was a very poor defense. How fast could he be out the canteen doors if she turned out to be violent? Faster than this lady would expect, he was willing to beat. Especially since his planned escape route included dodging straight over the table. “I, uh, stayed there for a little while recently. Not long though. I have-had.... things I needed to deal with.” Okayyy... he relaxed. Slightly. Something about this girl was bugging him. She looked... familiar, almost. Iris... Iris... Iris, who had lived at the Mansion for awhile...

His thoughts were easily side-tracked when the red-haired guy started to answer.

"People call me Voltaire. I don't work for Hunter, I came here to take refuge from the registration and join the resistance. My ability makes hiding in the open a bit hard. It's actually my first day here. It's all pretty new to me. So what about you two? What are your stories?"

Yay, story time! Iris looked like discomfort embodied: therefore, she probably had a pretty good story.

"Long and complicated. It's my first day here, too. Erm, morning, actually. I arrived last night. I think. Yeah, last night. I heard there was a Resistance gathering, and was persuaded to join."

She sounds funny.

She sounds bitter.

"Want the rest?"

Calley accepted the offered sandwich, a surprised look on his face. She sounds like she’s giving us free food!

...All the food here is free. Additionally, it is probably not a good sign that she is turning over her food to us.

Oh. You might be onto something, there.

Calley swiveled his head to watch her leave the table. While she was gone, he told his own amazing story: “No long and complicated stories for me. I was staying at my apartment when the Mansion got hit. Went for classes the next morning, and got picked up by some of this Hunter guy’s men. Do they look suspicious, or what? They had this big black jeep, too, with black tinted windows. I was pretty sure they were going to sell my kidneys on E-bay. But it was either go with them, or go with the nice police officers who were combing the ruins. So, umm, yeah. Here I am. The food is good, at least. So what’s your power? You said it made it hard for you to hide... I don’t really see anything that would make you stand out, though. Don’t mind me if you don’t want to tell. Just curious.”

He waited until the woman had joined them again, and then he offered her sandwich back (at Slate’s prompting). “Here—you really should eat, even if you don’t feel like it. I mean... a lot of stuff’s happened, but that’s all the more reason to be ready for all the worse stuff that’s probably coming. So you have to have your strength, and... stuff.”

Worst speech ever, Slate.

It would have sounded better if you had let me speak.

Nu-uh. No personality flipping in the middle of conversations. Especially not if you’re going to go all ‘You’re stealing my pancakes—RARGH!’ on people.

There are no pancakes here.

That isn’t the point. You’re staying in the corner until you’ve figured out what you did wrong, Mister.

...Teresa took my pancakes.

Uh-huh.

“Here—you really should eat, even if you don’t feel like it. I mean... a lot of stuff’s happened, but that’s all the more reason to be ready for all the worse stuff that’s probably coming. So you have to have your strength, and... stuff.”

Iris shook her head when he offered the sandwich back. "Thanks, but I'll be all right. I'll make up for it later. Besides," and a small smile tugged at her lips, "You look like you need it more than I do." She drained the coffee rather quickly, again practically ignoring the burn of the heat. Apparently her tongue and throat were scarred to the point that she didn't feel it anymore.....

Leaning her head on her chin, she began to play with her cup. "So," she addressed Voltaire, "Why is it hard for you to hide?" not realizing she was echoing Calley.

The coffee cup was one of those styrofoam to-go types. While she listened, she began taking small notches out of the rim in a symetrical pattern. Eventually she moved on to poking holes in the sides and bottom with the stir straws, unconsciously patterning it after the tattoo on her back.

So what’s your power? You said it made it hard for you to hide... I don’t really see anything that would make you stand out, though. Don’t mind me if you don’t want to tell. Just curious.”

Leaning her head on her chin, she began to play with her cup. "So," she addressed Voltaire, "Why is it hard for you to hide?" not realizing she was echoing Calley.

He took another sip of his tea before he would answer that question.
"Well" He said. "Whatever you do, don't move and don't be scared, i won't hurt you." He slowly moved his hand towards Iris to try and touch her. When he was about 3 inches away, a Small red electric aura appeared from his hand surging over his arm. He quickly redrawn his arm and put it on the table. "I don't have much control over my powers, but the seem to activate when i come close to people."
"It causes small explosions on contact, even if it hits me." He said and he gloomed down, staring into his tea. He held the cup of tea with two hands and took another sip. He didn't touch his sandwich yet because he didn't feel much like eating after a conversation about his abilities.
"Well that where my abilities" He continued. "What are yours if i might ask?" He asked as looked at Calley and Iris.

Calley stared in blatant fascination as Iris began to make Styrofoam cup art. Pretty. Pretty and fun. He munched on her sandwich, quickly polishing it off. The Voltaire guy was speaking, so it would be very rude to run and get a cup of his own, but—

—was Voltaire glowing? Calley hadn’t been paying attention for those ‘Whatever you do, don’t move and don’t be scared’ instructions, and he wouldn’t have been inclined to believe that ‘I won’t hurt you’ even if he’d heard it. The guy was a stranger. Of course he was ready, willing, and able to hurt Calley. Even better: he was a glowing stranger.

“Geh-!” For the second time in as many minutes, Calley recoiled, and began planning escape routes in his head. The only thing keeping him at the table was that the glowy-arm was pointed at Iris, not at his own vulnerable self. As the guy put his power away and started looking gloomy, Calley stopped sitting at a perfect ninety-degree angle and tried to relax again.

"Well that where my abilities," red-haired glow-man continued. "What are yours if I might ask?"

Calley blinked twice. “Umm, nothing as flashy as that, for me. I can just, well, turn into a tiger. Kind of useless. Don’t think I’m going to demonstrate that, if it’s all the same.”

Healing, as well.

“Oh! Oh, and I can heal. Which is a lot more useful. Just my own injuries—can’t help anyone else. Not as useful as it could be, I guess.”

He turned his own attention to Iris, waiting to see how she would answer. Maybe that would help him figure out what was so familiar about her. She had lived at the Mansion, she said—maybe he’d seen her around? It really wasn’t like him to forget someone he’d met, though. Met... met... Had he met her, before? He didn’t think so. Something tickled at the back of Calley’s mind.

Wait. Wait wait wait wait—

Did you remember?

...Nope. Lost it.

"Well, whatever you do, don't move and don't be scared. I won't hurt you." The wary, slightly distrustful expression returned to Iris's face at those words, but quickly switched to surprise when his hand began to glow. Calley's reaction was much the same as hers when Hunter was around. Odd....

"I don't have much control over my powers, but the seem to activate when i come close to people. It causes small explosions on contact, even if it hits me."

No wonder he found it hard to hide. She was less than thrilled with her own lack of control, but to be unable to touch someone else? That would be rough.... He certainly looked gloomy enough, and she sympathized whole-heartedly.

"Well that where my abilities. What are yours if i might ask?"

<"Everyone always wants to know that..."> she thought to herself ruefully. Fortunately Calley jumped in with his story, allowing her time to figure out how to phrase things.

“Umm, nothing as flashy as that, for me. I can just, well, turn into a tiger. Kind of useless. Don’t think I’m going to demonstrate that, if it’s all the same." Too bad; she would have enjoyed seeing that. "Oh! Oh, and I can heal. Which is a lot more useful. Just my own injuries—can’t help anyone else. Not as useful as it could be, I guess.”

Iris chuckled quietly, and her eyes unfocused a bit. "I helpled hand raise a tiger for the zoo once. Biiiiig paws.... And always getting into the paper cabinet. Eb wasn't happy 'bout that."

She took a deep breath and pushed her cup away. "Uh, abilities, huh? Well.... Mine are.... complicated as well. Probably the ones I'm best at, if you want to put it that way, is Ice and Liquid. I can create and mold ice, and manipulate small amounts of liquids, depending on how thick they are. Problem is, they...." Okay, how to put this delicately? "They affect the way I act.... or react....." She sincerely hoped neither of them asked her to demonstrate, or explain what the others were.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this type of show-and-tell. Up until this year I've spent most of my life hiding. It's getting kind of hard to keep it up though, what with those metal monsters out there." She rubbed her side, thankful that the painkillers had begun to kick in, at least enough that she didn't feel like roadkill anymore.

She shrugged her shoulders and fiddled with the stirs. A glance at Voltaire, both made her feel better and worse at the same time. Better, because she wasn't the only gloomy one in the world; worse because she couldn't think of anything to say.

Suddenly she smiled and chuckled. "Well, we're a cheerful trio aren't we? No wonder people think morning people are crazy to be up this early."

She shrugged her shoulders and fiddled with the stirs. A glance at Voltaire, both made her feel better and worse at the same time. Better, because she wasn't the only gloomy one in the world; worse because she couldn't think of anything to say.

Suddenly she smiled and chuckled. "Well, we're a cheerful trio aren't we? No wonder people think morning people are crazy to be up this early."

Voltaire left a faint smile after that statement. He decided it would be ok to take of his hood. He took of his hood to reveal his face and red hair. He took his hair together and tied it with a rubber band so that i wouldn't get in his face.

He looked at Iris and said and said with a smile:" I've always been a morning person so call me crazy." He finished his tea and felt hungry again. It seemed he was among people that understand and there was no reason to be so nervous and protective of himself. As he started to sweat he decided to take his coat of. He took his coat of and hanged it on his seat revealing how he normally looks. His hands and upper arms where tied in bandages with the occasional old blood stain. He started taking them off showing some wounds his powers caused resently. He took a new roll of bandage out of his coat pocket and started rapping himself in it. He took a bite of his sandwich and asked:"So you said you where at "the mansion" when the police came, Might i ask what "the Mansion" was for a place?"