There can be nothing in the world more amazing than instant macaroni and cheese. Twyla thought to herself as she scooped another mouthful of noodles into her mouth. Twyla was sitting on a counter in the, to use her word, ‘swank’ kitchen of the Sanctuary. It was a little past midnight and Twyla couldn’t sleep. She had spent her first day in the new and strange building finding a laundry room, getting herself clean, avoiding as many of the other residents as possible, and sleeping. She had done a lot of sleeping.

The sleeping earlier was what was keeping Twyla up now. Maybe a HUGE nap in the middle of the afternoon wasn’t such a good idea. Twyla decided as she looked at the digital clock blinking at her from the stove. Sleeping in a real bed was too tempting, besides it’s kinda nice to be the only one in here. Twyla had found her trek to a laundry very informational. This was definitely, like Meld had told her, a place for mutants. Twyla wasn’t uncomfortable with that; since she had discovered her own mutated genes she had crashed almost always with mutant only groups. It was the lack of mutants her own age that made Twyla uncomfortable. They had all looked like adults to her, at least all of the ones that were in the hallways Twyla had walked through. So Twyla had made the executive decision to avoid social situations while she was still new to this ‘ritzy’(another of her words) homeless shelter.

Twyla had left her room in search of food around eleven thirty after brushing her wavy brown hair that was still slightly damp from her earlier shower. She had crept quietly around the building barefoot, wearing a pair of Soffe shorts with the word “DANCE” written across the seat and a blue tee-shirt that proclaimed that her highschool’s dance team was State bound. Her outfit was reminiscent of a carefree highschool girl that Twyla wasn’t sure she was anymore. She had brushed that thought aside and found the kitchen after only getting lost once. Once she had seen the boxes of macaroni and cheese in the cupboard her stomach had growled and she had set herself to work preparing the orangey , noodley mess in front of her.

I haven’t had mac and cheese in...She paused to rack her brains for her most recent memory of eating her midnight meal. I don’t know how long. She finished her inner statement. I’m not going to be able to finish all of this. She noted after taking a few more bites and looking at the half-full pot still sitting on the stove top. No, I think eating meals this late is totally fine. I get this room to myself and it’s almost quiet. I can’t hear much past the appliance noises anyway...These cities are never really quiet though. A wave of homesickness suddenly washed over Twyla as she thought about the lack of noise at night on her family’s farm. She jumped down from the counter and noisily scrapped her plate off in a garbage can as if to drown her own thinking out. Keep yourself busy. She reminded herself. It was a technique she had perfected that first night away from home those months ago. If she kept herself busy for long enough she could suppress any unsettling thoughts or feelings, so Twyla started the water in the sink and set herself to the task of cleaning up the dishes she had dirtied in order to make the best food she had had in a long time.

There weren’t very many dishes to clean up and Twyla made a quick task of them. She searched around the cupboards until she found some Tupperware to put her leftovers in–her mother always taught her never to waste food and this doctrine was instilled into her even deeper after she had run away from home when basic commodities, like food, weren’t always available to Twyla. Before she pulled the plug in the sink, Twyla wet down the washcloth she had been using and proceeded to wipe down the counter she had used to prepare her late night meal and then the rest of the counters. It was more out of habit than anything, after her older sisters had left for college kitchen duty was usually the household chore that Twyla was assigned.

As she walked with the dishrag around the bright kitchen Twyla let her concentration wander. It was relatively easy at this point to match the gleaming counter. Reflective surfaces still gave Twyla some trouble but the counter was doable for her. It took her a moment to realize that she had stopped walking and that her arm and the dishrag were the same color as the counter she had been wiping down. It would be very easy to stay like this. Twyla thought. I could just pick a spot somewhere and never leave it. No one would ever see me and I’d never be bothered. Sometimes it was harder for Twyla to look like she was supposed to than it was for her to match her surroundings. Tonight was one of those instances where it was hard for her to concentrate on herself and it took her almost two minutes to get her arm back in order. I guess some practice wouldn’t be totally inappropriate. She decided. What else have I got to do? Besides, I need to work on matching stainless steel, I think my shine is off sometimes. Twyla dropped the rag in the sink and stood in front of the large refrigerator.

Taking in the way the light hit the stainless steel Twyla took a deep breath and let herself go. It was easier for the girl to use her powers if she thought of them as herself, just in a relaxed state. It took her a lot less concentration to let go than to become something. She had never explained the way her powers worked to anyone besides the small explanation she had given Meld and Dead during their run-in with the police earlier that day so she really didn't have words for the things she did. Twyla looked down at the rest of her body a moment later and was disappointed with what she saw. I think I need to be touching the desired result. She pressed her back against the side of the refrigerator that wasn’t flanked by cupboards and relaxed again. This time when Twyla opened her eyes she smiled. Perfect. I’m getting better at this. She couldn’t make out what was hers and what belonged to the appliance and only knew the position of her limbs because they were, of course, attached to her. If someone saw that they would be very confused...Well, maybe not here. Maybe they’d be impressed, or maybe I’m nothing special. Twyla’s normal reaction would have been to shrug off her thoughts but she tried to move as little as possible when she was in ‘camo mode’, as she had began to call her moments when she was using her powers. If I was the one watching someone like me I’D think it was cool. She consoled herself.

Twyla stifled a yawn. Maybe a huge nap wasn’t enough. She took one last look around the kitchen to make sure that she hadn’t left anything out and when it passed her inspection she walked away from the refrigerator and towards the door. The girl didn’t realize that she hadn’t changed her coloring back until she walked past the reflective microwave. “Oops.” She muttered. I don’t really feel like putting in the effort right now, it’s easier to stay like this. Twyla didn’t go back to ‘normal’, instead she relaxed so that her body changed with the scenery she was standing near. It was easier than keeping one tone but she wasn’t as fast to react to a change in backdrop as she was when she was focused. Twyla wasn’t particularly worried about being stealthy, so this didn’t bother her as she turned off the kitchen light and sprinted into the soft glow of the hallway. Maybe I’ll go back to bed. It’s nice to actually be sleeping IN a bed, it’s best not to waste a good thing. She decided before she walked back into her room, changing camouflage the whole way.