My name is an erased hieroglyph,
My clothes are mended by the winds;
What I carry in my clenched palms,
No one will ask, and I will not answer.
--Hieroglyph, Picnic.

The sun had reached the horizon by the time Jeremy Williams reached the school grounds, its last rays forming an orange halo around the city‘s roofs. Mustela’s suitcase and backpack weighted down mercilessly from a day of travel, and his scarf trailed behind him, dragging along on the path. Briefly, Jeremy imagined what lay just ahead, over the wall, and his exhaustion squashed any thought of heroics, replacing the images of the training rooms and fights with the grand mirage of a bed.

“A great hero, indeed. Defeated by distance and time.” Mustela leaned against the iron gate, dropping his suitcase. Though he couldn’t quite see across the Mansion grounds, he could smell the scents of several people out there, and judging by the colored blobs bouncing around, one of them was coming his way.

Jeremy decided not to ring in, but instead to greet whoever it was.
“Hello there!” Mustela yelled, trying to sound as friendly as he could manage. He could smell something different about the person coming towards him, even if he could not yet see it, and it was a bit unnerving, especially in this new place. “New a-around here! I’m expected!”

There was a label on Mustela’s suitcase, lying where he dropped it at the gate. On it were several words, smudged and covered in spots of food and dirt. The label seemed much older than the suitcase… “Zen Blade Watches You”, it read in bold brushstrokes of a marker. Crowded in, a symbol, kanji written by inexperienced hands, spoke “Zen”.

To all questions, I will laugh softly,
To all questions, there is no answer,
For my name is a hieroglyph,
My clothes are fixed by the winds.
--Hieroglyph, Picnic.

Meld's present mission was to make her way to exit of the Mansion and find herself something to eat. While it was not a particularly grand mission, it was a rather important one. Classes were in session at that particular moment in time and thus the halls were at least a little less crowded than usual which had a lot to do with the reason she had decided to come down now as opposed to some other time. The kitchen, of course, was always busy, except in the small hours of the morning, but that was something that simply couldn't be avoided living in a school full of teenage mutants so she had long ago resigned herself to that fact. Usually she avoided eating at the Mansion itself unless it was during that beautiful, solitary, nocturnal time and thus her present decision to find somewhere else nearby to eat.

“Hello there!”

Meld was just approaching the door with the intent of letting herself out when she spotted a rather furry male a little shorter than she was. Her immediate thought was that he must be Anthony's brother, the mongoose mutant she had encountered a couple of times, but there were some definite differences between them. For one thing, this one had brown fur instead of white and his features just didn't seem to be very mongoosey, for lack of a better description, though she wasn't certain what they did remind her of.

“New a-around here! I’m expected!”

"No need to be nervous," Meld assured the newcomer with a smile that she was hoping would be nonthreatening. Unfortunately nonthreatening was not exactly one of her specialties since it was a little difficult given the fact that she was literally bristling with metal blades. Something about being a walking weapon just tended to put people on edge.

"I'm not really in charge here but I'm sure I can help you find someone who is, if you would like to come in?" She gestured with her hand that he should enter. "The name's Meld." She extended her more normal looking hand, although normal was a matter of comparision given that the hand extended had glowing blue veins, in invitation of a handshake.

“Um…Hi, Meld. Nice to meet you.” There is an original source of the strange smell! Jeremy enthusiastically pumped Meld’s hand up and down, sniffing in her direction curiously, ignoring the odd glow. His own fur-covered, clawed paw was far from normal, and besides, what could she do? Infect him, like the Borg?

“Jeremy Williams.” She smelled interesting, if to say the least, though Mustela managed to contain himself and not lick her hand or sniff it up close. That’d be a bad first impression, he told himself firmly.

“So, um…where do I go to tell them I made it here safely?” Jeremy walked in through the gate, before remembering his suitcase. He ran back outside, grabbed it, and slithered back into the Mansion grounds, quick as a flash.

“Sorry about that. Couldn’t just leave the only autograph of Zen Blade I got! Say, what are you in for?…Err, what is your, you know, gift?” Mustela knew he was crossing a line, but like most weasels, his curiosity always got the best of him, and Meld did sound and smell friendly enough, once one got past the metal parts.

“I’m pretty much like some kind of ferret thing.” he said helpfully, smiling as innocently as possible when one’s mouth was full of sharp fangs.
(OOC: Here's hoping I don't get Mustela killed or thrown across the grounds!)

"A pleasure to meet you Jeremy," Meld answered, keeping her voice nice and polite. For once she wasn't getting dubious looks due to her bladed metal limbs and she took that as a good sign. Even in a mutant filled place like the Mansion she was still something of an anomaly and an outcast but perhaps she woudln't have it any other way. It was difficult to respect those who didn't fight the battle for their people, and so few of those in the Mansion did, and those she didn't respect she didn't really care about one way or another.

“So, um…where do I go to tell them I made it here safely?”

Meld made a vague gesture in front of her. "Oh, I'm sure they're around somewhere. We'll just have to go seek them out and while we do I can point out the important areas of the Mansion if you'd like." She so rarely got the opportunity to help mutants in a non-violent way that she intended to take full advantage of this one. Befriending potential allies was always a good idea.

“Sorry about that. Couldn’t just leave the only autograph of Zen Blade I got! Say, what are you in for?…Err, what is your, you know, gift?”

Meld waited patiently as Jeremy ran out to grab his suitcase and then ran back inside, feeling just a little amused. "I replace my body parts with custom made flesh melds," Meld answered, always proud of speaking about her mutation. By way of example, she brought her metal tail around and blinked her ruby red tail eye at the newcomer.

“I’m pretty much like some kind of ferret thing.”

Meld nodded. That certainly explained it and why he looked a little like Anthony. Were ferrets and mongooses even related? "So what does being a ferret thing entail anyway? Besides being furry of course."

“Somewhere around here, eh? Well, might as well see the place and eat something. Being a weasel, I have a diet to keep to. Where‘s your chickens?” Jeremy said, perfect calm never leaving his voice. Then he grinned from ear to ear.

“Being me is, well, being me. I‘m not sure what‘s my own, and what’s Darwin’s. I can smell you better than I can see you…I guess I am quite a bit more flexible than most people, and I have claws. Not much of a mutation, unless I wanted to be a rock-climbing bloodhound for a living.” Mustela laughed.

“Oh, and I DO like meat, but I’d like to imagine that’s a preference, not a necessity of mutation.”

He followed Meld confidently wherever she was going--not every day that he heard someone speak about their mutation with such pride, or took any interest in what a weasel-morph could do. Besides, her tail looked beautiful, in a deadly sort of way. He

“Your tail is amazing. Did you build it yourself, or someone help? What can it do?”
Better not have been the profs that built that, thought Jeremy to himself. Or, it might be better if they did…Mustela couldn’t decide. He loved the thought of becoming a hero, and if the profs were that dedicated, then he might have made the right choice in trying to learn at a mutant school. Then again, those WERE weapons on school grounds, greeting him, with no teachers around.

“Somewhere around here, eh? Well, might as well see the place and eat something. Being a weasel, I have a diet to keep to. Where‘s your chickens?”

Meld blinked in confusion for a moment before she saw Jeremy's grin and she smiled in return. Humour was always something that she struggled with. "No chickens I'm afraid, but if you're lucky there might be some left over chicken in the fridge." She began leading him in the direction of the kitchen. One thing about living in a house full of teenagers is one never knew what one might find hidden in the fridge.

“Being me is, well, being me. I‘m not sure what‘s my own, and what’s Darwin’s. I can smell you better than I can see you…I guess I am quite a bit more flexible than most people, and I have claws. Not much of a mutation, unless I wanted to be a rock-climbing bloodhound for a living.”

Meld grinned, a sinister edge in the expression. "Oh, I wouldn't underestimate the value of having a pair of claws. There are many things you can do with them beyond climbing walls and mountains." Many things that normally included causing pain and death to enemies. If anyone would know the value of claws, Meld would though she had to admit her clawed metal arm and clawed feet were probably a little bit more lethal than the smaller claws that Jeremy appeared to have.

“Your tail is amazing. Did you build it yourself, or someone help? What can it do?”

"Built it myself," Meld answered, pride in her voice. "It was inspired by a large red mutant friend of mine with a rather impressive tail himself. I kind of improved on the concept and added some blades and an eye on the end." The pair of them reached the kitchen and Meld gestured that he should feel free to enter and find himself something to eat.