Twyla smiled and nodded, her attention deftly fixed, as the Suggestion-er continued to suggest. Excitement was always a good sign. Based on the emotions in his voice and the body language that he used Twyla could tell that Shin really liked the book Neuromancer and that was always a good omen. There would be something for her in a book that inspired talk like that and that something was all she needed to keep herself happy. Feeling that there was no need for her to contribute to Shin’s title advising she simply nodded in the appropriate places and kept her attention fixed in place. It was always interesting to watch someone else talk Book, especially when their dialect was different than yours.

“I was thinking I’d move us to the garden next. All this talk of nature and science fiction has gotten me wanting the smell of flowers over the must of dust. Which reminds me!” He said, turning towards the girl again. Twyla didn’t reply right away because she was distracted by the fact that must and dust rhymed. Must and dust. Must and dust. Must and dust. Focus. Bring it all back in. “Of Vaster Than Empires and More Slow.” Before she replied this time he was already walking out of the library. She followed without thinking about it. After a left turn she asked: “What about must and dust--” Must and dust. “Made you think of ‘Of Vaster Than Empires and More Slow’?” The title was now saved in memory along with about half a dozen interesting sounding titles and authors.

"Less-so the must and dust as the whine of vine. It was the power of flowers," he smirked. "That reminded me of the tale. Vaster than Empires is about this group of deep space explorers who go on an expedition. In their midst, they bring an empath. Eventually, they land on this planet entirely covered in vegetation, and... stuff happens." They hit the stairs, and started descending.

"Just the thought of a planet covered in dense vegetation like the one in that story is impressive." He murmured as he stepped over the last step, into the main hall. Once again, they took their path across the red carpet. "The thing I liked most about that one, though, were the characters. They had their own particular race and social quirks that contributed to the plot. It was just interesting seeing how they interacted with the main character, Osden. Some were more forgiving than others."

He left his last statement vague, so as not to spoil. Forgiving about what?

Twyla almost didn’t notice the stairs as she listened to his description of the story. The synopsis sounded interesting and her imagination was exploring the implications of ‘stuff happens’. The lovely thing about literature was that it was man made and the imagination of man was seemingly infinite. The first step was a bit of surprise and she dropped down and stumbled but didn’t fall. Hoping that the man in front of her didn’t notice her slip up she didn’t say anything but let her cheeks redden in a silent blush. “I’ll definitely have to look up that one.” Her curiosity was perked and she wanted to give it what it wanted, which was the rest of the story.

He murmured something when they had almost reached the bottom of the stairs but Twyla didn’t quite catch it and hoped she wouldn’t be rude for not saying anything in reply. "The thing I liked most about that one, though, were the characters. They had their own particular race and social quirks that contributed to the plot. It was just interesting seeing how they interacted with the main character, Osden. Some were more forgiving than others." More tidbits, which her curiosity quickly devoured and cataloged to be taken out when she actually read the book. She wanted to ask what he meant but there was a small part of her brain that convinced the rest of it to hold off on questions so as not to ruin the story. Twyla would still have probably read it but half the fun of reading is the discovery involved. “I’m sure it’ll be an interesting read.” They walked across the red carpet that she had been so careful about when she had first walked across it. Taking her second look at the foyer she blurted: “So who pays for all of this?” She motioned towards chandelier and all the other swank features of the space with her hands. “I mean, this is a really nice school, it’s got to be expensive to run.” Her voice was simply curious but the question was unedited for content and instantly Twyla regretted the was she just blurted it out.

Luckily for Twyla, this time around Shin completely missed her embarrassing stumble. He didn't catch the trip, or the resulting blush. He most certainly didn't glance back and smirk. All he did was lead. And answer.

>>“So who pays for all of this?” Twyla motioned towards chandelier and all the other swank features of the space with her hands.

"We receive donations from time to time from benefactors who wish the see the school's survival. Old students who've graduated from these walls can be most kind. And the main inspiration for the school occasionally offers aid..." Shin nodded to the portrait of Charles Xavier. "This school is a sister school to his own." Shin paused, and thought a second. "I suppose the headmistress spends a good deal of her time talking with benefactors. That might be why she's so busy." He hadn't thought of that before. It made sense. What better thing would occupy her time than making sure her school stayed strong?

Shin led Twyla down a hallway on the first floor, towards the back doors. As they went down the hallway, they passed some classrooms. Full, currently. It'd explain why so many students weren't running about. In fact. shin nodded to one classroom in particular. "I think that's where the speedster from earlier was rushing... Language classes with Chi Hay. Nice guy. Knows French. I've heard he picks up foreign languages the oddest of ways..." He glanced back at her with the hint of a smile.

Donations, benefactors and sometimes aide from the nice looking man in the portrait. All those reasons sounded so normal private school it was weird for Twyla to apply them to a school for mutants. She wondered if her grandmother had made a donation but managed to filter her thoughts so that that particular question never actually made it past her throat. On the way back down her esophagus it met her next question in passing.“So there are two schools like this?” Maybe there were more safe places in the world if you knew how and where to look. Twyla’s scavenging skills in that particular area were lacking to say the least. The places she had crashed were not suitable places for the creepy crawlies that inhabited them, much less for a naive teenage girl. Although, staying at a homeless shelter for mutants hadn’t been too terrible, even if she was directed there by a wanted criminal. In Twyla’s judgement’s defense she hadn’t known that the metallic woman was a criminal at the time. Altogether this school was probably one of the best places besides home for her at the moment, and Twyla was beginning to realize it.

She followed him down a hallway towards what she assumed was the back of the school. Classrooms flanked the hallway and the halls were empty. Peeking into a few of the rooms full of students Twyla felt suddenly detached, like she didn’t belong in that kind of a setting. She couldn’t imagine herself sitting at a table or in one of the desks and doing lessons all day everyday. Thinking about how behind she was made her stomach clench but it was her punishment, right? She made a bad decision and now she had to face the consequences of running away from home. As they walked by one particular classroom Shin nodded and said: "I think that's where the speedster from earlier was rushing... Language classes with Chi Hay. Nice guy. Knows French. I've heard he picks up foreign languages the oddest of ways..." There was a small smile on his face when he turned around to look at her. Twyla could relate to the idea of rushing to class. Her highschool may not have been very large but talking with your friends for nine minutes can make ten minute passing times seem insanely short. “What do you mean by ‘oddest ways’?” She asked, her curiosity piqued.

>>“So there are two schools like this?”

Shin gestured vaguely with his cast-arm. "Somewhere." He wasn't sure where. Rather than rack his mind over it, he continued the tour.

And then they paused at the language classroom. He turned to answer her question, placing two-fingers to his lips. "With a kiss~"

Then turning quick as a wink, he found the back door. It swung open to reveal an expanse of well-maintained garden. He glanced back at her, holding the door open so she could see. "What do you think?"

As soon as her guide said ‘somewhere’ Judy Garland’s voice began playing in some distant memory of watching ‘The Wizard of Oz’ with her siblings. Images of her darkened living room and staring at the tiny screen of their rabbit eared TV flooded her mind and she forgot that she had just learned that there were two schools like the one she was just in, she was lost in memory. ‘The Wizard of Oz’ had been Twyla’s favorite movie until it became embarrassing to have such a ‘kiddie’, according to her brother Nate, movie as a favorite. That was sometime around seventh grade, by her recollection.

“Huh.” Was all Twyla said when he explained how the language teacher learned languages. She tried not to imagine the implications of discovering that particular talent and instead focused on reading the signs that labeled each room. Normal highschool subjects. She didn’t know why she was so weirded out by the normalcy of it all.

They made it to the back of the school and a door was opened to reveal what could only be the garden. "What do you think?" He asked her. Well, for starters it was very pretty and very neat and orderly. Her rapid glances told her that the plants were healthy and well taken care of. No complaints on her end. “It’s very pretty and very well taken care of.” She replied, still looking. She was searching for something but either she couldn’t see it from their spot or it didn’t exist. “Is there a vegetable garden or anything like that?” Her old highschool had had a plot behind the school where the FFA had grown things like tomatoes and corn that the cafeteria used when they could. Twyla, although she hadn’t been as active as her other siblings, had been a member of FFA and had been a part of the plot project so she wondered if there was anything along the same lines at this school that she could get involved in.

"Not that I know of. But we have a pool." He started walking towards some hoops in the near distance. "And basketball courts. You ever play basketball, Twyla? I'm sort of a big fan..." Shin picked a ball up off the court, and tried to sink it through the hoop from the free throw line. Throwing a ball with a cast is hard, though. The orange sphere bounced off the backboard, and flew back to hit Shin in the head.

"Er..." He rubbed the bruise that was already forming. "Perhaps it'd be a good idea to show you somewhere a bit safer... ow."

“Oh, alright.” Twyla shrugged. She’d survive without a garden so long as she had library like the one they had just visited. The pool would be a good place to hang out, if she had a swimming suit. Basketball courts were a decent option for occupying time as well. When he asked her if she ever played she replied “We had a hoop on the barn. I used to play with my brothers.” By ‘play’ she meant that she and her younger brother Jonathan would chase the older and much taller Nate around their gravel driveway in wild attempts to get the ball from him. When these attempts failed they usually both tackled him at the same time and then basketball would morph into a cross between 3-man keep-away and Lucha Libre. Twyla didn’t mention anything when she noted that the tour guide was about to attempt a basket with one hand in a cast. She didn’t think it would end the way it did.

Shin attempted a shot from the free throw line. From where Twyla was standing it looked like a decent shot and it wasn’t until she heard the thunk that resulted from the basketball hitting the cranium of her guide that she realized something was wrong. She rushed over to where he was standing. "Er..." A head rub. "Perhaps it'd be a good idea to show you somewhere a bit safer... ow." Twyla wasn’t an expert with first aide, that was her mother’s job, but she did understand bruises from her gymnastics training. “Um, how about you show me where the kitchen is so you can get some ice for that bump. Maybe if you ice it you can keep it from turning into a goose egg.”

"Kitchen... right. Infirmary's on the second floor. Not sure why they put it up a flight of stairs, but they do. If someone broke their leg, then--" Shin gave his wobbly reply as he straightened up his walk. More head holding, hobbling, and ows. "Usually, I'm more headstrong than this. I don't even know what..." Trip over the ball, continue walking. Do not bite one's own tongue as you speak. He did all of the above, as casually as he could. Except for the not-biting his tongue. Words were harder to form with a swelled tongue. Well, that was keen.

He led them both back towards the back door, away from the devil's court. He swung back through the back door, and even held it open for her, then back to the unsteady walking. Past classrooms, down one hall, and eventually--

"Lounge area's this way!" He lifted a leg to lead her boldly towards the couch and television, then swiveled at the last moment back towards the kitchen, finger raised to direct the charge. "Ice first!"

Was there a word for the combination of ‘pathetic’ and ‘epic’? Because Shin felt he was living up to both right now. And neither, all at the same time.

Going to the infirmary made more sense, Twyla supposed. Her initial reaction was just bruise=ice and ice=kitchen. It really DIDN’T make sense that they put the infirmary on the second floor, Twyla could about imagine how many scenarios where that would be a very bad thing. She was so focused on that particular situation that she failed to notice the basketball until her guide tripped over it. She winced, and a glance at his casted arm posed the questions: Was his luck always like this? and Did he hurt himself often?

He was hobbling as he led her back through the back door, past classrooms, and into the doorway of what he named as the lounge area. Abruptly he turned on his heels and pointed down the hall."Ice first!" Ice=kitchen. This time she led the way, thankfully it was easy to find since she had the general direction. The kitchen matched the rest of the school. It was spacious and swank. Swank was the word of the day, there was no getting around it. As soon as they walked in Twyla walked to the large refrigerator and opened up the freezer to pull out a tray of ice. “Where are the dish towels?” She asked, only after that realizing that she didn’t ask permission to raid the freezer and that she didn’t even know if she was allowed to touch the fridge. Oh well, sometimes it was easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission.

>>“Where are the dish towels?”

"Cupboard above the sink," Shin pointed to the cabinet door above the double-sink. It spread out professionally, like the kind of sink you'd find in a fancy high rise apartment, or luxury home. The fixtures were polished to a shine. On its right, a rack of dishes sat out drying. Some were blue, some were a pastel green. Katrina's mother took awful good care of her kitchen. Swank, it was.

All the way to the duck-covered paper towels above the sink.

Shin lowered himself down into a chair like it was a nice, hot bath. He rested his cast arm on the rounded kitchen table for a moment, took a deep breath. Let out a sigh. Stress seemed to ebb away. His shoulders went slack.

"The kitchen is staffed by a miss Claire Dumonde," He continued the tour, even in his injured state. "She prepares the food for the students. There's usually something nice and healthy for us in the fridge, or in the freezer. Oh right. Check and see if there's any iced peach tea left, will you?" He smiled weakly. She was being so helpful. And here he was, injured.

Once pointed in the right direction Twyla promptly found a clean white dish towel and walked back over to where the ice cub tray sat patiently waiting. Crack. The ice released its hold on the plastic and four cubes made their way on to the dish towel to be wrapped up and handed to the talking man in the chair with a sympathetic smile to his growing bruise. The tray made its way safely back into the freezer to be used the next time someone got hit in the head with an orange sphere...or until someone got thirsty. Either way, it was always hard to tell with those sorts of things.

Claire Dumonde, that was a name she’d have to remember, it could come in handy. When asked about the beverage she turned on her heel and walked back to the refrigerator. A snoopy glance on the inside of the door told her that there was indeed some iced peach tea. She pulled the pitcher out and turned around to ask: “Glasses?” Twyla didn’t mind the fetching. The ice was instinct, she would have gotten it for anyone, and the tea was because she appreciated the tour she was getting. If she hadn’t she probably would have fetched the pitcher and left him to get a glass on his own or she would have confirmed that there was indeed iced peach tea and then walked away from the fridge. Besides any of that, Twyla was in a good mood and she was always nicer when she was in a good mood.

Cold. For a second, Shin remembered the chill and the grip that had brought his arm to its current cast-status. Icy eyes. Shards, red. Then his fingers closed in around the dish towel and the ice. He brought the handful up to his temple, and nursed the throbbing bruise.

"Thanks. I appreciate it." Shin pressed his forehead into the chill with a half-smile.

>>“Glasses?”

"Cupboard above the oven, on the right by the refrigerator." His index finger arched to point. As he watched Twyla go about his various fetch quests, Shin felt like he should be doing more to help her out. He teetered to his feet, dish cloth still pressed to his face. Maybe he'd grab something from the cupboards too? "What kinds of snacks do you like? I'll snag something." Shin paced over to another cupboard, on the far left of the room. He pulled it open, revealing boxes of goldfish crackers and pretzels, among other goodies. He glanced back over his shoulder at Twyla, waiting for an answer.

“No problem.” Twyla replied when he thanked her. It really wasn’t a problem, or a hassle, or any other similar descriptive words. Again, Twyla promptly found what she was looking for and soon she had two glasses to be filled by the yummy smelling contents of the pitcher. She only spilled a little of the sweet and sticky liquid on the counter when she filled the glasses and that was wiped away by a rag from the large sink.

"What kinds of snacks do you like? I'll snag something." Shin asked her as he stood in front of an open cupboard filled with all kinds of snaky goodies. “Umm...anything’s good.” This noncommital answer stemmed from the fact that Twyla really didn’t care for the most part and not from the fear of offending or making a fuss. She could eat whatever. Her mother often complained about she and her brothers eating habits, she’d say that she had gotten rid of three girls and now she was stuck with three teenage boys. When Twyla and her brothers got hungry nothing in the house was safe, making trips to the grocery stare more frequent than in the past.