It had been a few weeks since Alma had moved into the Sanctuary, and it was still a peculiar feeling—she had a decent-sized room with an adjoining restroom to herself, with basic amenities. It was almost nostalgic of a hotel, and included the suitcases out of which Alma lived, crisply-pressed and unfamiliar blankets, and the complementary bottles of soap. Alma was still in the mindset of a transient, refusing to unpack her bags and “settle in” lest she decided to hastily move. She stayed in her room a lot, for fear she might run into someone who would know her—they had cafeteria-styled dining, but she usually went to the kitchen a good while before or after the meals, just because she was still trying to live an “invisible” life. It was a haven for mutants, which meant that it was (in theory) a safe place for a mutant to be, but there could always be double-agents, for whom the young woman would have to be conscious of. She could not let her guard down.

Thus was the reason that she was sneaking into the kitchen at such an ungodly hour—it was still dark out, before even the kitchen staff arrived to prepare breakfast. The dark-haired woman didn’t expect to run into anyone, thus she was clothed in her usual sleepwear—pajama shorts, camisole, and frumpy cardigan. For the sake of being sneaky, she’d ditched the flip-flops and was walking around barefoot. An entourage of shadowy figures with glowing eyes bobbed after her, invisible to the typical eye, but very much present to the young lady.

Alma danced over the cool tiles, not bothering to turn on the light as her eyes skirted around the room, before she ambled towards the cabinets. There was some fruit in fridge, which would suffice for the young woman, and she’d get some cereal for the bodachs—after her encounter with Kaitlyn, Alma had learned that not only did the pests eat, but they favored sugary food. Cereal seemed to befit them. Alma slid onto the counter, raising up onto her knees to retrieve two bowls—a large ceramic one, for the bodachs, and a smaller Tupperware one, for herself. The shadowy creatures oozed after her, chattering amongst themselves excitedly, for they knew what was soon to come.

Lydia had lead Aurion to Sanctuary over a year ago, since then it became his home, he thought of the people under its roof as extended family. The real 'Family' there was the little known, rarely talked about, Order. Even if he wasn't such a social person now, he was worse a year ago. He remembered when Jupiter had asked if he wanted to join him for a little city cleanup. He had asked if Aurion would like to join the secretive group, which lead to his first, uncomfortable, family dinner with most of the residents of the Sanctuary, while he had a 'Meet&Greet' with Lori.

Since then he made an appearance at the functions usually every other or every third time. He had become much better with the other residents, even if he was still awkward at times, they seemed to have gotten use to him as well. Even so, he still preferred to eat alone, and the best time to do that was at night. Sure Sanctuary had its night owls, but most of them didn't seem to eat at night, or seemed to grab something and head back to wherever they spent their nights while they snacked.

Aurion on the other hand, as long as he wasn't busy, had the time, and had access to ready food, would eat two to three times a night and at least that many times during the day. And it had started to show about six months ago. Though he hadn't exactly been truly starving before he moved into Sanctuary, he hadn't been eating well, often enough, or eating enough in general. Since then though, the colors of his scales had deepened, the scar on his side had disappeared, he felt stronger, faster, healthier. While he was still lean, he had filled out more, had gained more muscle mass, which made his muscles seem to strain against his skin even more. It took much longer for him to tire out, even during strenuous activity, hours longer. And that was why he was headed for the kitchen well before the sun rose.

As usual Aurion didn't see or hear much activity in the halls, as he climbed alone the ceiling. There didn't really seem to be any need for it, but it had become a little habit of his to 'walk' the halls at least once a night. Sure he did things for the Order from time to time, but this was something he could do every day and feel like he was actively helping out. He felt like a more friendly, helpful type of hall monitor. That thought made him chuckle as he moved into the cafeteria.

While it wasn't unusual to see someone in the kitchens every so often, Aurion couldn't place the woman he saw there. Not that he knew everyone in Sanctuary, no, but at least with most people he got at least a little feeling of, 'Have I seen that person before? Maybe...' Not so this time, though that could be due to her choice of clothing, but if she wore that sort of thing all the time, Aurion would have recognized her. Shrugging mid stride, he continued forward along the ceiling. As he got closer, he was kind of surprised she didn't hear him, seeing as claws weren't the quietest things in the world.

When he got closer he saw her climbing onto the counter to get bowls. He couldn't figure out why she would need two bowls and almost spoke when he saw a number of...things appear. "Lot mouths to feed." Aurion looked from the woman to the black shapes. He couldn't help but reach down and poke one of the taller ones with his claw.

The night did things to peoples’ psyche. What, in daylight, would be labeled as a plant, or a lamp, soon became monsters that dwelt in shadows. Even as she’d made her way to the kitchen, Alma had run from the shadows, and even now she was on-edge. On-edge had been a state of being since she’d left Canada, which wasn’t a good thing to be in a shelter for homeless mutants. What society labeled as “monsters” were merely “the man from up the hall” here, but what Almas’ nightmare-ridden mind didn’t comprehend was that these halls could be swimming with such terrifying neighbors.

Upon seeing the first bowl, the bodachs surged into corporeality, rustling about in anticipation for their coming meal. Dishes meant food, and they wanted food. All at once, their clamor became perceivable to the outer world, and it drowned out any sounds of approaching footsteps as it grew in magnitude.

“Food!” some of the smaller ones chirped, “Food! Food!”

“Un moment,” Alma murmured crossly, setting the bowls down to step off of the counter. This whole time, her back was to her newfound company.

A low voice cut through the silence, and made the rumbling observation that there were a lot of mouths to feed. Alma lost her hold on the counter, taken by momentarily alarm, and an artless French swear escaped her. She managed to cling to the counter for her dear life, the whole of her weight being on her arms, and her legs splayed out uselessly on the tiled floor.

“Lots of mouths,” she grunted, scrambling to her feet. After momentary scrambling, Alma regained her footing, and turned to greet what she expected to be a humanoid form in the doorway, on the ground-plane. She saw none such thing. Alma’s squinted her eyes, which were weakened by the darkness, but she saw a congealed part of the darkness reaching towards one of the taller bodachs, and her gaze went up. There was something enormous on the ceiling. And, as Alma’s sleep-deprived mind told her, it was obviously a monster.

The panic hit her fast—adrenaline shot through her system, and the girl jumped, a gasp (more like, a squeak) of alarm escaped her. The fright that hit her was enough to send a ripple of motion through the ranks of bodachs—their mistress needed to be protected from this newfound threat. Their plan of attack, fasten onto whatever they could and throw it. First, went the Tupperware bowl, then, the ceramic bowl, each of which had been abandoned on the counter.

The little bodachs clambered onto the counter, popping open drawers and grabbing what they could, while, the larger bodachs (having thrown the bowls) now went for the decorative bowl of fruit upon the counter. As the bowl was heavy, they began with the fruit within it to lighten the load. The young women who was (partially) at-fault for this shrank to the floor, her breath stopping in her throat. How were the bodachs doing this? Or rather, why? The terror was subsiding, but only moments too late.

“Guys,” Alma said, realizing that she was in-control of this (hypothetically), “Guys! Guys, stop! I’m okay! He just gave me a start!”

The attack grew less fevered, but a few projectiles were still hurled.

“Throw one more thing, and no more cereal for you!”

The attack ceased. It had spanned only a few moments, but the kitchen, Alma had a feeling, probably looked like a small tornado had hit it. She held a hand to her chest, as if trying to stop her heart from hammering so hardly with a simple touch.

'Well crap. Here we go again.' Aurion thought to himself as the woman finally saw him. On the ceiling. He barely had time to think that maybe it would be a good idea to not be on the ceiling all the time before a bowl was thrown at him. The expression on his face was bemused and slightly confused as the bowl hit him on the top of his head and bounced off harmlessly to the floor somewhere. The second bowl followed the first, and was aimed better.

The ceramic bowl hit him square in the face, just below his nose, which meant it hit him in the mouth. His lips pressed against his teeth from the impact. "Owmph!" He coughed as some 'small' fruit slipped through his open mouth and into his throat. He dropped to the floor, twisting on the way down. One clawed hand reached for the closest shadowy thing and tried to crush it, coughing the whole while. He missed of course, but whatever had gotten into his throat was coughed up and headed for the thing he had reached for.

Aurion tucked his chin close to his chest so that anything else that was thrown at him would bounce off of at least not hit him in the face. He heard the girl try to get the black, inky...things...to calm down. And they did, after she threatened to not give them cereal? 'What?' He was all sorts of confused, more-so when he felt something in his mouth. Touching it with his tongue he let out an annoyed sigh. He moved the object around in his mouth until he could spit it out, at the woman.

Her damned pets, or whatever they were, broke the tip of one of his teeth.He'd have to rip the broken tooth out now, something he was not going to look forward to doing. Annoyed and irritated, "Thanks. Broken tooth." Aurion lazily lifted his arm and flicked his hand, quite hard, at one of the smaller big, headed things.

One of his eyes was halfways open and the other one was downright closed. He pretty much was doing this using only sound as a stream of water hit a small body of it, but the moment the sound changed a little and it seemed like he was about to start hitting on ceramic, he'd redirect his aim until he heard only sprinkling water again. He'd gotten good at it too. You just had to when you lived with a mother and a sister who'd complain, moan and wonder why you didn't just sit down to do your business if you couldn't see diddly squat, but Miles refused to do that. It was a macho thing really. Guys just didn't sit to do number one.

As soon as he was finished, he stumbled haphazardly towards his bed in complete darkness but now that his bladder was empty it demanded some refilling. Great. Going back to bed thirsty was bound to give him dreams of dying in a desert or something like the one he had where he kept putting coins inside a soda vending machine but the machine kept dishing out lettuce instead.

The teenager opened the door to his room with just one eye still in working order and shuffled down the hallway towards the kitchen for a glass of water. Tinaker followed, more prone to prowling than Astor was while the larger dog just stayed in the room, guarding over his things. The boy was wearing nothing but rubber sandals and large boxers that covered half his thighs but they weren't exactly the serious, sober, one plain color type of boxers. They were more the electric blue type, with big, bright yellow smilies printed all over them with a "don't worry, be happy" slogan underneath each smiley face.

Who cares? It was late and the chances of bumping into anyone were minimal.

As he approached the kitchen however, the chances of bumping into people turned to maximum as he heard voices. Then the voices changed into dishes and kitchen utensils being thrown about and something that sounded like a person falling to the floor. Even in his sleepy stupor, he had managed to hear a woman's voice cry out "Guys! Guys! Stop!" and his mind immediately thought he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Curiosity was too much for him to just turn around a leave however, so he approached the doorway and leaned his head to catch a glimpse of what was going on inside, expecting maybe a couple of drunk residents fighting. The lights were out, but his sight was already adjusted to the darkness.

There was a woman in the kitchen. A gorgeous, beautifully shaped dark haired woman wearing these very short, pajama pants showing so much leg they would make Bikini Barbie jealous.

Both of Miles eyes opened wiiiide.

Then he saw other things in the darkness, nowhere NEAR as beautiful as the woman. One of them was moving... talking...

The boys eyes opened much, much wider as did his mouth.

There was a frenzy of action around Alma, and the attitude of the bodachs were most certainly not helping. The bowls collided with the shadowy figure, as did some of the… what was that, fruit?... that the bodachs had picked up. The thing that had clung to the ceiling now dropped to the ground, coughing hoarsely. Almas’ eyes wheeled about the darkened kitchen blindly, and sensing that whatever-it-was was now on the floor with her, she pressed up against the cabinet more, her eyes wide. She should have never left her room that night—sure, she was bound to get caught eventually, but she didn’t think it’d trigger an attack.

All the while, the monster swiped at one of the bodachs, which seemed to go fluid just before the claws connected. The shadowy-thing giggled as it dodged. This was turning out to be a lot of fun, and the monster was getting so mad. Alma finally managed to call them off, and the kitchen fell into a relative calm. Something small and hard hit her forearm.

The rumbling voice addressed her again, announcing that its tooth had been broken. That finalized the idea that, in Alma’s mind, it wasn’t actually a monster. She’d just attacked another mutant.

“I-I-I am very s-sorry, sir,” Alma stuttered. The adrenaline was still running through her, thus her tone still quivered, as her limbs were also still shaking, and her heart was hammering in her chest, “You caused me… a… fright, and I didn’t know that… that they would d-do that... or that you'd be on the ceiling. I can find a way to pay for a dentist. A good dentist. I just… I just became… a-a mutant a month ago, they do not listen to me yet. They are all… Ce sont des créatures impulsives. Impulsive things.”

Alma was got carefully to her feet, and spied another figure in the doorway. This one, human, and standing on the ground.

“Please, c-could you turn the light on?” Alma implored, “And walk with caution. Something is probably broken on the floor. Or it’s slippery from fruit. I don’t know what the little monsters threw.”

Aurion looked at the giggling thing in annoyance. Slipping into a crouch he rested his hands on his knees, draping his tail around him lazily. He could see the girl easily in the dim light, she looked...terrified? Shocked? Shaken? Ashamed? Aurion shrugged lightly, it could be any or all of those, he thought to himself. He was going to say something when she started stuttering and called him 'Sir'. Looking down at himself, he snorted, "I not 'Sir'." He said lightly, almost a chuckle in his tone.

Aurion fought to suppress a real laugh as she continued to ramble. 'So it's the library and Kaitlyn situation again...basically.' He was about to say as much when she got up. Following her gaze he turned his head and saw a kid and a dog...with glowing red eyes. Aurion's own glowing, with reflected light, looked at them both and blinked. He tried to remember if he had seen the kid around before or not, or a dog with glowing red eyes. No, he hadn't, he would definitely remember a dog like that. Two new, to him, people in one night... 'I wonder if Sanctuary is advertising or something. 'Come one, come all! Calling all mutants, we've room for you all! Join us, rooms going fast!' ' He did laugh, lightheartedly, at that, a bit loudly too.

He looked back to the girl, "It okay. Kind'a my fault." He made a show of shrugging it away. "I no 'Sir'. Names Aurion. I no need dentist, tooth grow back when I take out." Aurion rubbed his face a bit, "So, what are they?" He made a slow swipe at another one. "How throw stuff if not solid? Or you not know yet?"

Okey, so they weren't exactly drunk residents fighting but what they were was... downright scary. Miles was actually glad he had relieved himself earlier.

There were shadows in the darkness, like... straight out of a horror film and they were moving without anyone projecting them. They were outside of the walls and standing or hovering somewhere in the kitchen floor, which by the way, was also occupied by a scary looking... guy... person... creature... mutant? It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but this being Sanctuary, it was most likely a mutant and any shred of doubt was removed when he talked. He was big, brawny and his claws and tail made Miles swallow hard. The whole group was dimly illuminated in a faint red tint by Tinaker's eyes, who stood next to his master but took no action whatsoever.

The whole scene was surreal, even by Sanctuary standards. She was apologizing to the big guy, apparently on behalf of the shadowy things. He glanced at Miles and Tinaker and the boy stood rooted to his spot, specially after hearing him laugh. It wasn't a mmwaaAAHAHAHAAH! evil sort of laughter, which gave the boy some measure of comfort but still... it's difficult to not judge a book by it's cover when the cover looks so freaking scary. The woman addressed Miles, asking him to turn on the lights and be careful about the mess.

Did he really want to see this Alien-looking guy and those shadowy creatures in full detail under the light? Miles hesitated as part of him thought ignorance was bliss and he was better off returning to his bedroom thirsty, but then he remembered she was in her skimpy pajamas, so his hand swiftly flipped on the light switch, disregarding any danger from stepping over broken bowls to reach it.

GAAH! PURPLE SPOTS!

The entire kitchen was illuminated under the bright glow of several fluorescent light tubes on the ceiling. The teenager instinctively covered his eyes with one hand, trying to adjust his sight to the brightness as all the broken bowl pieces and thrown fruit on the floor revealed themselves. What a mess.

The big guy had asked the girl how the shadows had managed to throw things at him. Miles had another thought in mind.

"If they can throw stuff around, I hope they can pick up after themselves?"

The creature corrected her—it wasn’t a sir.

“You’re a woman?” Alma inquired, an incredulous lilt in her tone, “Madame… mademoiselle… I’m so sorry. It’s really dark.” And you sound like a man, honest to God. Ooooh, this is not my night.

Alma got to her feet, carefully feeling the floor with light, hesitant steps in search of shard of anything that might be awaiting the poor soles of her feet. The thing laughed, perhaps not at Alma’s inquiry, so the woman ignored it, focusing on standing upright without miss-stepping or slipping on anything.

Whatever it was, its name was Aurion, and it deflected her apology by shouldering some of the blame, and explaining his angle of the situation. He wouldn’t need a dentist, the tooth would grow back. Right around that time, the boy in the doorway flicked the lights on, illuming the kitchen, and revealing that the red-eyed creature that accompanied him was actually a dog.

Alma blinked at the brightness a few times, and made note of the destruction around her. This was going to take some work to clean up. The reptilian creature—which, in the light, was still quite terrifying to behold, went about asking questions about bodachs, and his inquiries were added-onto by the boy in the doorway.

“I will clean it up,” Alma sighed, rubbing her face, “They are not smart enough.”

It was really too early to deal with this kind of thing, but as her mutation was the fault of the mess, it only made sense that she be the one to pick up after it. She knew little of the creatures, but knew enough that if she tried to command them, unless it was something that they were inclined to do anyways, they probably wouldn’t listen.

Alma swallowed her nerves, and in response to Aurion’s brief introduction, the woman offered one of her own. American customs held that handshakes were customary, rather than cheek-kissing (which, beyond which, was reserved for only friends in Alma’s old group), so Alma shuffled closer to Aurion, extending a hand.

“My name is Alma,” she introduced, extending a hand, “Sorry for this Hell of a first impression.”

Introduction having been given, Alma looked about for the plastic bowl—it’d be better to feed the bodachs and distract them while she cleaned this disaster zone up. Her food would have to wait until after the mess was taken care of, before she ate.

“I don’t know what they are,” Alma murmured, “Maybe ghost-like things. My abuela speaks with the dead, and says that these are awfully similar to them, but not the same… so I do not really know, I suppose is the short answer. They just showed up one day, and now they don’t leave me alone.”

Alma picked-up the plastic bowl, having spotted it on a counter across the room (as she picked over the mess that her pawns had created), and began to pick her way back towards the pantry.

“I’m Alma,” she introduced herself to the boy, extending a hand towards him and stopping before him, momentarily, to give him a fair introduction, “Nice to meet you.”

That introduction was exchanged, and she walked the rest of the way towards the pantry. The bodachs, all the while, shuffled closer, chirping “Food!” as they followed.

“They are mischievous creatures,” Alma reiterated, answering the reptile’s second portion of the question, “Like… water. One moment, they’re solid, like an ice cube, but then they can become like… snow? But then they can also be like water itself, or water vapor. It changes. They only touch things when they need to, or want to. Otherwise, they squish, or they aren’t even there.”

Alma popped open the pantry cabinet, and began to clamber onto the bottom shelf in an attempt to reach the top. As a means of specification, she added on, “Well, for you, anyways. They’re always there, for me.”

"You're a woman?" 'What?! Do I look like a woman?' He thought to himself sharply, at the same time he imagined himself with breasts. Then the girls started calling him words he had never hear before, but he figured they were other ways of calling or addressing a woman. Shaking his head sharp and fast. "No!" His voice wasn't loud, but it was very stern. "Do I look like woman? I not old! So not 'Sir'."

When he saw her moving, apparently to pick things up, even thought the light was still off, "Wait for li-." And then the light came one thanks to the kid with the dog, who he noticed had wiped the slack-jawed look from his face. Shrugging, "Nevermind." He said as he got up. The change in light levels didn't affect Aurion like it had the other two, he just squinted a little bit as his eyes adjusted.

He liked the kid's suggestion that the weird shadowy things should clean up after themselves since they did make the mess. Aurion found himself smirking thinking to see the things do just that. Instead the girl started to do it, claiming that they were too stupid, he thought it was probably a lack of control on her part. Instead of voicing that he moved to where he knew the brooms and such would be kept, and pulled out two, a normal one and one with thick foam pads, and a dustpan.

When he set the normal one against the wall for the girl to use, he found her coming closer to him, hand extended. Aurion extended a finger which was large enough to work in the same fashion as a person's hand. "Yeah. More common than think." He said with a slight sigh.

When she moved off to do whatever she was doing, he grabbed his broom, adjusted the foam pads so he could hold and use it easier, and started to sweep. He focused on clearing a walk way to the kitchen and fridge just in case that's what the boy had come to the kitchen for. Alma introduced herself to the boy and moved back to the cabinets. Aurion tried to sweep one of the small things away when it was near the work end of the broom. Their incessant 'Food' was annoying.

Alma explained about the creatures and he was starting to think the things would give him a headache that wouldn't go away, ever, if he had to be around them all the time. Looking towards the boy, "If hungry, floor clear to fridge." He said and twitched his head towards the fridge. 'If they want food so much, I can make them into food.' Aurion was becoming more keenly aware that he had been hungry before he taken a bowl to the face, and Alma's tag-alongs constant 'food' was making him hungrier. "They'd make me crazy. Never stop talking."

When he noticed that she seemed to be going for what he assumed was more food, he looked at the things with annoyance and spoke sharply, "Waste food, no get food." While he had directed it at them, he was also trying to tell Alma not to give them any. While that wasn't really a rule in Sanctuary, from what he knew that is, it should be. It made him a little ornery thinking of the wasted food, even if it hadn't been much, because he knew what it was like not to get enough food.

While the two of them were talking, Miles just stared.

She was the epitome of hotness. Smooth skin, toned body, curves weren't too big or too small, kind of wavy hair, she let out a couple of foreign words as well, french and... hey! Spanish! Miles could speak spanish! They had something in common! Yay!

Aurion however was... the total opposite of the epitome of hotness. He was big when crouched on the floor but when he stood up, he towered over the boy so much Miles felt like a four year old. He had scales, a fin, strange eyes and his teeth were the largest he had seen so far, even sharper looking than Guglin's or Gina's. Just when you'd expect a mutant who looked like him to roar or do something badass after being called a mademoiselle, Aurion demonstrated a lot of civility by opening a broom closet and helping Alma clean up. Apparently her shadows were hopeless in that department.

The hazel eyed goddess approached him now and Miles blushed without her even saying a word yet. She told him her name, said how nice it was to meet him and AAAH! Skin contact! Her hand was soft and oh so warm. The boy managed to reply with: "I'm Miles. Nice to meet you... both" adding Aurion to his introduction.

She had explained how the shadows just followed her around and how her grandmother thought them dead, which was another similarity Miles thought they had, him being followed by dead things as well, if only far more obedient than hers. Aurion had cleaned the way to the fridge for Miles, telling him he could eat if he wanted and was getting annoyed at Alma's ghosts chanting for food and trailing behind her, like Inky, Pinky, Blinky and Clyde chasing after Pac Man.

The teen decided to help the reptilian mutant clean up before getting his water even though none of this had been his fault. He did it mostly because he was a well bred young man who had been taught to be polite and make himself helpful like a true gentleman when a lady needed his help and oh my god she's got her back to us and those pants leave so little to the imagination.

Miles tried to pretend this whole situation was all par for the course to him. Even though he was fifteen and hormones had a big say on his behavior, he tried to keep his cool and not drool like an idiot, so he distracted his mind by adding in to their conversation.

"He's right" Miles said, trying to validate the giant's opinion regarding Alma's ghosty companions. "They'll never learn and they'll stay mischievous if you keep indulging them. You need to teach them some discipline."

He had no idea whatsoever how you could discipline a creature that could go intangible at will, but just to give her a little confidence, he decided to tell her a little white lie. "Look at my dog. He's well behaved and well trained through rigorous discipline (Pfft! Haha!) and you'll never see him making a mess or disobeying my commands. Some day, with some practice, your ghosts might learn to do what you tell them to."

Alma smirked as the monster-man took hasty offense at Almas’ inquiries, insisting that he was in-fact a man, just not old enough to be a sir. The light was flicked on, and Alma blinked, surveying Aurion. Okay, maybe he was a guy after all. While Alma went to get the pacifiers for her little stalker-pet-children shadows, Aurion retrieved a broom, and started to help in the clean-up. Alma retrieved the cereal, and hopped back down, finally beholding this with her own eyes.

“Ah, S— Mr. Aurion!” Alma interjected, dancing closer (and paying careful attention the floor so as not to step on broken bowl or squished fruit or anything else that had been thrown). Alma seemed about to snatch the broom from the reptilian, before the claws seemed to make her think twice.

“Mr. Aurion, you don’t have to help me clean,” Alma insisted, “I’ll handle the mess. It is the fault of my mutation, anyways. It is just… uh… right for me to.”

Miles, too, was starting to help tidy-up, and Alma realized that it’d be difficult to shake them, “Miles, you don’t need to help either. I am inconveniencing you two. Please.”

Aurion grumbled about how annoying the bodachs were (which were becoming more adamant, now that Alma bore the box of cereal), before telling the creatures that they couldn’t get food if they threw it and wasted it. She popped open the box, poured in an average human-sized serving, before closing the box, as lectures from the more-experienced mutants chased her into the hall. As discernible by Miles own, small speech, his spooky-looking canine was apparently the epitome of discipline, which Almas’ bodachs obviously lacked. Alma just needed to be firm with them to get better results.

Alma bit her lip, carrying the bowl into the hall and setting it on the ground, a mass of bodachs spilling out of the kitchen. This would make cleaning much easier for her.

What wasn’t making it easier was getting lectures from the two boys that were helping her—this is your mutation, and here’s how you control it, they were saying—at two, or perhaps three, in the morning. Alma hadn’t slept a decent wink since that night in Quebec. She’d had nightmares to keep her up, and that made her patience rather thin. Alma reminded herself not to take it out on the “more experienced” mutants, but it was hard not to. Especially in the wee hours of the morning. She murmured under her breath in fluid French, something about the willingness of individuals to give opinions freely, even if undesired.

“Perhaps someday,” Alma echoed flatly, “But it has not been a priority yet. I have been more focused on getting out of the bad situation that my mutation brought-on, and have been on-the-move since the day that I left my home. ‘Training through rigorous discpline’ will come once I’m-“ Alma paused, yay-close to saying, “Once she wasn’t running for her life in search of a safe place to where her murderous friends couldn’t find her,” but that was too much to tell total strangers. They couldn’t yet be trusted, “-settled. For now, I will give them food so that they are out of the kitchen while I clean.”

Alma ran a hand through her hair in mild embarrassment, grabbing the mop that Aurion had pulled out and beginning to clean. If they didn’t leave, though Alma asked them to, she would converse with them instead, if they were up to talking.

Aurion wasn't really sure what to make of the boy, Miles. The boy didn't really seem to be able to keep his eyes off of Alma. He wondered if Miles felt awkward talking to people, or just girls. Aurion had a feeling it leaned more towards females than everyone. He was surprised when Miles started cleaning up the mess he had no part of. Knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, Aurion kept his mouth shut and didn't ask why.

When Miles started talking about how well behaved his dog was, Aurion took a good look at it, mostly because he didn't believe a word of it. Dogs can be trained and well behaved, but they're not perfect, and the description Miles gave of his pet was too good to be true. And everyone knows that when something seems too good to be true, it is. The more Aurion looked at it, the more of an odd feeling he got from it.

Even breathing shallowly, its chest should have been moving a little same with its nose. No blinking. The dog didn't blink, at all. And it was way too still, unnaturally still, at least very, very still, which was unnerving. Aurion took his eyes off the strange canine to watch Alma as she got her creatures to leave the kitchen so they could clean easier.

He watched her as she spoke, and paused to collect her thoughts before continuing. Aurion got the distinct impression the woman was pointedly avoiding whatever she was about to say. Moving towards the dog a little at a time, "Sanc good home. Lot us run from past. We keep Sanc safe. Good place settle, relax." With that he took his eyes from Alma, gripped the broom near the bristles, and brought the other end down toward the dog's head. He wasn't trying to hit it hard, but he wanted to see what would happen if did something, the think was like a statue.

She got a cereal bowl out for her ghosts to eat. The teenager wondered if the creatures could actually digest the food or if it simply phased through and spilled all over the floor again. He also wondered, oh look, she's crouching to put the bowl down on the floor.

Miles didn't know how apparent it was to Aurion that he was ogling more than he was helping. She bit her lip in a way he found sexy and even her upset face looked kinda hot. Apparently what he said annoyed her, because she riposted in a way that seemed defensive, trying to justify her lack of control over her shadows. Stupid Miles! Don't piss her off!

She did reveal she was in a bad situation due to her mutation that forced her to move around. Miles could relate to that, since staying with his parents became unbearable as well the moment he started dragging around two zombie dogs. Oh man, another similarity! She then ran her fingers through her hair in a way that Miles swore it happened in slow motion. He couldn't help but hear this specific song inside his head as she did that, but snapped back to reality when she started cleaning, mop in hand.

Aurion told her Sanctuary was a good place to stay and Miles agreed.

"I know what it is to leave home because of your mutation. All the things you cared about and made sense in your life are suddenly gone and you're left improvising and wondering what to do... it's not easy at all" he said, trying to empathize and letting the words sink in. "I haven't been here that long, but so far everyone has been helpful and protective of each oth..."

Thwack!

It came out of nowhere! One second the boy was talking about mutants being there for each other and the next Aurion was whacking Tinaker's head! He didn't hit him that hard but the guy was big and musclebound to boot and it's not like his dog was going to roll with the blow or even saw it coming! His dogs were highly obedient and always followed orders, but that didn't mean they would stand still when someone attacked them and the canine's answer was immediate. He bared his teeth and attacked right back...

Luckily, he did so against the broom's stick instead of Aurion's legs. Tinaker growled and clamped the broom with his teeth, trying to shake it off the giant's hand.

"STOP! What are you doing!?" he demanded, mostly at Aurion, but the verbal command had also been mental and the dog quickly followed it, letting go of the broom and getting back to his original position as if nothing had happened. No ordinary dog would ever behave that way in the same situation, which pretty much revealed the animal was more Miles' slave than a creature with free will. The boy approached the dog to check on his head.

"Why did you hit him!? He wasn't doing anything to you!" he complained, trying to make sense of Aurion's sudden, inexplicable reaction. He then blurted out: "Was it because the ghosts are annoying and you can't hit them back, so you take it on my poor dog!? Not cool, man!"

>> "Sanc good home. Lot us run from past. We keep Sanc safe. Good place settle, relax."

Alma was born and raised to be skeptical of words. She inclined her head as the lizard-monster spoke, folding her arms. Apparently, if you were running from your past, this was a good place to be. A safe place, the lizard asserted, but Alma took that sentiment with a grain of salt. Everyone was running from different people and things. Some bad pasts were easier to get away from than others.

If her friends ever found out that she was alive, Alma would be killed for sure. She was silent in her disagreement, and intent upon watching whatever-it-was that Aurion was about to do… just about as intent as Miles was upon her. He was chattering excitedly about how he left home because of his mutation.

>> "I know what it is to leave home because of your mutation. All the things you cared about and made sense in your life are suddenly gone and you're left improvising and wondering what to do... it's not easy at all. I haven't been here that long, but so far everyone has been helpful and protective of each oth... STOP! What are you doing!?"

Alma laughed as the dog reacted at the light blow of the broom, attacking it ferociously and attempting to shake it free. What was it Miles was saying about discipline? Her chuckles quieted enough for a dry French sentiment--

“Donc, beaucoup d'être bien sage et bien formé et grâce à une discipline rigoureuse,” Alma murmured drolly, resting an elbow upon the counter and her head upon her hand as she watched the scene unfold—

Before a few final chuckles squeaked their way out—they were almost entirely silenced by the time Miles began to chastise Aurion.

>> "Why did you hit him!? He wasn't doing anything to you! Was it because the ghosts are annoying and you can't hit them back, so you take it on my poor dog!? Not cool, man!"

“Your dog is slightly eerie,” Alma said, in Aurion’s defense, getting to her feet again. She meandered over, and lightly took the slightly mangled broom, before going to sweep the floor.

“My life had very little sense to it, even before I left—and home was already more of a thing of legend than something to be missed, by that point in time,” Alma countered casually, sweeping at the debris on the floor, and gathering it into a pile, “The only option was to leave, and there was never any ambiguity over that matter. That was simple. The problem arose from the where, and from the means.”

By now, she’d made a pretty good pile of shards, and had weeded out the unbroken goods and set them on the counter. She’d wash the dishes by hand later. Alma migrated to a different area, and began sweeping again. She said nothing in regards to Aurion’s “attack” on the dog in place of her little specters. Even if that were true, there wasn’t anything that she could say in her own defense.