Chase stared at the older girl as the words she’d uttered set in.

>> "You mean to tell me that your detective friend, your mother's boyfriend never resolve a case important enough to became an eminent citizen?"

Chase stared, and stared, and stared. By the way she’d said it, she’d probably meant it as an insult, but Chase was just confused. He still didn’t wholly understand what “eminent” meant.

“Of course he has!” Chase protested, after momentary contemplation, “Don’t be stupid. Jorge solves all sorts of important cases every single day. He’s an… an M&M citizen a thousand times over.”

So there. Chase kept his arms folded, and fixed Celeste with a stare that said, ‘Well, duh,’ without a single word even being uttered. Jorge’s job was very important. He put bad guys away, and kept the city safe. Which meant that everyday Jorge was resolving cases, cases that were important enough to become an eminent citizen—even if he’d never gotten a reward before.

Yes, Chase held the detective in high esteem, and would defend his honor, when mean blonde girls tried to stamp on it.

“So, let’s start looking,” Chase said simply, walking towards the stairs.

His words were not strong enough to intimidate her, so she was about to yell the boy to stop him from shouting her when he continued with his blasphemies. The girl, who was clearly not stupid, achieved to contain her anger in the form of two lines of blood that appeared under her eyes. Her cheeks were blushed by the shame of defeat but that feeling did not last long since the boy confessed an interesting secret.
Jorge, did not seem to have been named "eminent" citizen of New York city, but M&M citizen. Like the chocolates. Was it a pronunciation error or was the boy clearly keeping that secret for himself? After a few seconds of silent meditation, the girl came to the conclusion that the malevolent mutant wanted to hide his stepfather contact with those delicious chocolates. Of course, to avoid sharing.

Well if he was a M&M citizen, Celeste had no doubt where came its charm. Maybe that was the reason why the boy loved him so much and defended it with all his might, even when he did not know what he really do at work. Celeste knew it, all the modern detectives spent their days behind desks filling reports about what they were doing. Reports about completing reports.
But back to what matters the most, back to her, even with her contacts and money, sometimes it was difficult to get all the candy she wanted... An M&M citizenship probably gave some benefits such as unlimited cargo of these small candy with different colors.
Perhaps he saved the owner of the company... She would have to find out how to become one too.

With a renewed interest in the small mutant, the girl followed him closely, completely unsure of where to go. Since she did not know the mansion well enough to decide the path for herself. This situation of dependence was hurting her pride with ease. Later she would need some bandages for her wounded pride, or even better, a map of the mansion for avoid getting lost as she already did a couple of times on previous visits.
"Exactly where are we going?" Asked the girl as she followed. Not knowing where they were going.

Chase nodded abruptly at his apparent success—yes, he had mistaken the word “eminent” for “M&M” do to an unfortunate confusion of phonetics, but Celeste was silenced nonetheless. Chase’s own mispronounced protest had unwittingly set Celeste on her own, misinformed train of thoughts, but as Chase didn’t not know of this, he said nothing on the matter.

Celeste followed Chase closely as he ascended the stairs, asking of where they were headed.

“Headmistress’ office,” Chase said simply, shrugging a shoulder, “Headmistress knows a lot. Probably knows who’s supposed to be here and who isn’t.”

Unless she was also turned into a child. In which case, there’d have to be more digging. Hopefully Celeste would be more effective there—Chase wouldn’t know where to start, in the way of snooping, but maybe someone who was older and taller would. The two walked with a purpose down the halls, avoiding the cacophony of cries coming from the other children. Chase opened the door to the Headmistress’ secretary’s office, and bee-lined for the Headmistress’ office. It was empty.

“This is it,” Chase murmured, “She isn’t here.”

Of course she wasn’t, but Chase felt inclined to announce that.

Now that she knew where they were going, her feet began to lead her with grace and style, instead of the previous "worried and fearful" kind of pace. She even changed her posture, now she was fully upright to show all her glory. Of course, now that she did not expect a monstrous mutant to jump from every shadow or corner, it was easy to move as if she knew the place, even when she did not.
And although she knew it was just an obsession, perhaps a product of her ego. Able to put a name to the place where they were going, made her felt independent. There was a clear feeling in her; She had no need of his guidance. Sadly it was just a feeling that would make her get lost in the mansion again if something happened to Chase.

When they finally reached the office, Chase discovered that there was no one inside. Surely the person responsible of the administration was slowly but surely trying to help the strange children who appeared out of nowhere. Judging by the many children they crossed in their path, there were more of them than the headmistress could handle.
Despite the obvious failure, the little girl did not let that to stop them. "Perfect." Her tone was more than optimistic. "So we can look for in peace without being disturbed." That said, her feet moved her to the desktop, where she began to stir the papers that appeared to have been left in no particular order. After a minute of reading without finding anything useful she began to tidy the desk that was in complete chaos. Once she finished she let out a long sigh of defeat. "We will not find it in all this mess."

While Celeste seemed unfazed by the absence of the headmistress, Chase seemed blatantly uncertain. Without her there, Chase saw no point in being there. He was ready to go, hadn’t an inkling to do something as rebellious as scouring the place in her absence. Celeste, however, had other ideas.

“What are we looking for?” Chase mumbled, clambering onto the headmistress’s chair and spinning absently. As he swung back around towards the desk, facing Celeste, Chase would look to see her rummaging through papers, before she’d slip out of view once again. But, when she didn’t find anything, she began to clean.

“So you want to clean the office?” Chase mused, arching his eyebrows. If that was the case, he was going to leave Celeste be, let her clean on her own. Chase hated cleaning.

Without dwelling from the little very important task of bringing some order to all that mess, she answered to the boy. With a tone of weariness and discontent. "I already told you." She almost shouted the first phrase, but then lower her voice again to a tone somewhat more acceptable but not quite friendly. "We look for a list of names to compare students and children. A record." If they could find that file, she could question all the children. They did not need to know more than their name for them to compare to those that were registered. When they found the intruder, they would find their living fountain of youth.

"And I'm not cleaning..." Her reply was a little absent since she continued arranging the papers on the desk in a logical way hoping to calm her anxieties so she would actually start reading something from what she was moving. So far she was able to create three flat towers. The old reports were in one pile while the ones of the current month were in another, and a third column was designed for the papers she could not find a specific date. "I'm giving some order to these papers." She said as she placed the last page in the corresponding stack. Then her eyes jumped to another place, trying to find another place where logic was needed. But she did not move from her place. Of course she was not cleaning. That was clear. But she had to admit she was making a superhuman effort to not jump into the nearest drawer to check if it was covered with dust or not.

Perhaps there was what she needed, perhaps in that huge drawer she would find the list she needed. Staring at her lifeless opponent, she moved toward it. Cautious.
Once she was there, she took the little handle, and pull hard, praying for it to not be locked. It was not. The drawer opened its mouth, and a heavy tongue full of paper slipped toward her. There were hundreds of folders and each had a name. In irregular intervals she could also see an empty folders pointing the letter of the names in that section. At least there was some order in that chaotic place.
Her sweet eyes showed her what she feared from the first moment. The "file" was too large and they could not take it. How many people study there? Must have been more than five hundred folders there.
"Here it is. But we cant take all the files..."

Chase nodded as Celeste reminded him of their purpose for being there. He migrated towards a pair of file cabinets that were backed-up against the wall. They loomed over Chase, but… his mom kept important papers in such cabinets, so it only made sense that the headmistress would do the same. Celeste retorted that she wasn’t cleaning, which earned a smile from the little boy. She was just giving the papers “order”.

“That’s cleaning,” Chase retorted with a matter-of-fact humor. He tried to open one of the drawers, and found it locked. The next drawer was locked, too, as well as the third. Chase hummed, putting his hands on his hips. Chase looked towards Celeste, to see what sort of progress she was making.

Celeste found the files, but they wouldn’t be able to carry them all.

“There has to be a… a… summary thing,” Chase murmured, “Like roll sheets! …somewhere.”

The boy gave her a smile, probably he was amused by her different concepts of order and cleanliness. To order meant moving things from one place to another, and cleaning means to remove the dust and dirt. To clean did mean ordering, but to order did not mean cleaning. The girl had it very clear, but Chase seemed not interested in the subtle difference of which she was highly aware.

With great sorrow, she turned away from her latest discovery. There was too much files in it, and they did not have time to take them all, neither enough force...
The boy was trying to open a couple of cabinets, without success. Surely the one she had tried was left opened by an oversight, since it seemed that every other drawer was locked.
If something was locked, it had to be important, and what they wanted was very important.

Without thinking a lot about the idea, she approached one of the drawers that Chase had tried to open, and then dig into her own pockets until she produced a lock-pick. "Exactly." The girl said triumphantly, while introducing the pair of metal picks in the tight space where the key was suppose to go. Once both were inside, she began to move them in disarray, waiting for the magic to activate and the click that would report that she managed open it. As they did in movies.
"Anything with names in it would help us." She said, still trying to create that precious "click" sound.

Celeste fished a lock pick out her pocket, procuring it for Chase to see. Chase had never seen such an object before, therefore knew not what it did, which sparked his interest. Chase watches as the pick was wedged into the keyhole, wiggled around, and the two of them waited.

“Anything with names,” Chase reiterated distractedly, watching intently. Something was supposed to happen—Chase presumed that Celeste was trying to open the drawer, but without avail. When waiting grew too tedious, Chase ultimately gave-in and begged the question that he’d been holding-in thus far.

“What are you doing?” Chase dared to ask, blatantly confused as he drew closer to the older girl for a peek.

In the movies each characters always did it with such ease, Celeste was finding it great difficult to open the drawer with those two little metal sticks. First it was difficult to get both inside at the same time, second the girl did not know which one came first or which functions fulfilled each one, and third but not least... she had not the slightest idea what she was doing. She just moved the sticks in a erratic way.
She had been hoping that maybe Chase would ignore her and them she could pretend that she had never tried to open it, but now that his eyes were staring her, she had no more options than to open the drawer. Because someone of her class could not admit to be wrong.

The lock picks were driving her crazy, but still she hide her anger and impatience as best as she could. "I am trying to open the drawer, we can find something useful here." And then she went back to look into the dark hole that concealed the movements of the metal chopsticks, as much that she did not know what she was doing, but at least the darkness helped her to avoid the embarrassment of the child noticing she was not getting anywhere.

While still struggling to open the drawer, a very comical picture appeared on her mind. Chase using his finger as a key. As she had seen him changing shapes, maybe he could emulate the shape of the key. The idea was so silly she had to smile, but even so, she just asked the little mutant. "Do not you have any power that can help us?" She hoped for his response to be positive, but it surely was going to disappoint her. People always disappointed her with their inability to perform almost any task that she ordered them.

Chase nodded as the older girl made her first observation, to which Chase only nodded. He could see that she was trying to open the drawer, but in his infinite, childlike wisdom, he also noted that the drawer wasn’t opening. Which meant that Celeste was doing it wrong. He folded his arms and waited, when Celeste turned her attention to him.

Celeste was suggesting that he use his power to help open the drawer. The nine-year-old quirked an eyebrow at her, scratching his head in confusion.

“All I do is turn into people,” Chase mumbled absently, “I don’t unlock things.”

Obviously, Celeste was the brains in this endeavor. Chase was stumped.

Knowing she was not going to manage to open the cabinet, she simply placed the lock picks again in her spacious pockets, but first she spend a few glances of hatred to the small black hole.

Now all her attention was on the child who perhaps could have a ability that could help despite his initial denial. Celeste did not know a lot about his power so far, but now she was sure they could become useful. "Then transform yourself into someone strong and break the lock, or better yet, switch to a professional thief and use your skills." If Chase have not those skills, then they had nothing else to do there.
Unfortunately, her expensive phone did not have any application that will help her to open that monstrous thing. Still, there was a small possibility that what they were looking for was not there, so to stop trying did not transform her into a loser. She had not abandoned the search, but conveniently changed her focus to another place.

Celeste continued to command Chase in how to utilize his power to open the drawer—if he was super strong, he could open it. Or he could turn into a professional thief instead. Chase blushed and shook his head, staring at his feet.

“I would need something that belongs to them to turn into them,” Chase mumbled, “I can’t do it just… willy-nilly.”

Chase looked towards the Headmistresses desk, shifting uncomfortably. At the front of the desk, a pair of reading glasses sat, folded up and upon a glasses holder. He hesitated to do an object-based shift again, seeing as the last time had turned out so disastrous, but how scary could the Headmistress be? Particularly when using reading spectacles. Chase wandered over to the desk and picked-up the spectacles, his fingers tingling with the presence of a singular residue.

“I’ll, uh, be right back,” Chase explained, “I don’t like people watching me.”

Chase ducked through the doorway, and put the glasses on. Instantly, the tendrils that composed his flesh responded, loosening and stretching upwards, reforming into a tall, slender ebony-skinned woman. The Headmistress. The Doppelganger gingerly meandered back into the room, casting Celeste an authoritative glance. Chase was younger than her, weaker, and therefore treated her with respect because Celeste was his elder. The Headmistress was senior to Celeste, however, and taller than her, too. The Doppelganger fussed with the skirt awkwardly, a discontent expression tugging at its lips.

“Filing cabinet,” the thing murmured, pulling its chair out and sitting gracefully. As it murmured those words, memories flooded into its mind—going into the second drawer on the desk, underneath the piles of papers, the key to all of the cabinets was hidden. The Doppelganger leaned forward, opening said drawer and lifting the papers up, removing the key from the bottom, “School roster?” a memory of going to the far cabinet, top drawer simmered to the top of Doppelganger’s mind. Even if Celeste had broken into that drawer, what they wanted wouldn’t have been in there.

The Doppelganger handed the key to the younger lady, and a polite smile touched its face, “The roster is in the far cabinet, top drawer. You’re welcome.”

And it leaned back in the chair, looking smug.