MV2: Feeding at School

"This way," Mr. Carillo said, then paused as they reached the hallway. "Ms. Jiménez."

Stepping our behind him, Andy found himself facing a black-haired, dark-skinned woman in her... late twenties or early thirties? He wasn't sure. Definitely a grownup, regardless.  "You were looking for me," she said easily. "And this must be the young Mr. McFall."

Andy nodded and remembered his manners. "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

She chuckled gently as she studied him. "We agreed I should be the first one for you feed on here," she said.

"Oh?" asked Andy. "All right."

"Would you like some privacy, or...?"

Andy looked to  Ms. Jiménez, who offered a small shrug. "Here is fine," he said. "It's not like I've had a lot of privacy so far."

"All right," she said. "We'll have some other options for you later on, but for right now..."

He nodded and reached out. She wasn't a tall woman, but there was something about her... Maybe it was just self-assurance. She wasn't afraid of either of them; she wasn't even nervous. 

He put his palm to her forehead, and felt a sudden and unexpected surge of power; he choked it back immediately, even as the beast tried to rise up inside him. He was not going to mess this up, and he was not going to hurt anybody who was trying to help him...

He yanked his hand back. He felt better, fresher, his thoughts sharper; likely he looked better as well. He already knew that without feeding, his body would wither into something even more corpse-like, and he didn't want that at all. His appearance was bad enough as it was.

Ms. Jiménez sucked in a breath, then smiled. "Very good," she said.

"What just happened?" Andy demanded. "That was... that was a lot."

"Claws," said Mr. Carillo. 

Andy looked down at his hands, then realized the full length of his claws were out. That had been the beast, and he hadn't realized it... but at least he hadn't done any harm with them. "Sorry," he said, and resorbed them into his fingers. 

"You passed a test," Ms. Jiménez told him. "I promise you, most times we'll warn you in advance. But feeding -- draining -- is a touchy issue, and one of the main sources of friction between monsters and the human world. So we needed to make sure you could handle yourself in unexpected circumstances."

Why would you risk that??? His expression must have been obvious, because Ms. Jiménez chuckled again. "I'm a sorceress," she said. "Also a witch, but that's less important here. I can set a working to break the connection if it passes a certain point, and I did -- only you didn't get there."

"I'm a little worried about the claws," Mr. Carillo said. "Veronica told me you could call them out, but wights don't usually extend them during feeding."

Andy considered that, but only for a moment. "There's... something in my mind. I'm not sure how to describe. It's like a second self, but it's... feral. Bestial. Feeding is tricky for me because it, uh... takes an interest when I do."

Mr. Carillo exchanged a glance with Ms. Jiménez. "That isn't usual either."

Andy shrugged. "The person who first tried to help me control my feeding was a psychic, I think. She touched it, it woke up, and she pulled back out -- fast."

Ms. Jiménez frowned. "That sounds more like a were than a wight," she said.

Andy nodded. "Steve -- he was one of the hunters who brought me here -- said that too. Then he smelled me and said I was definitely a wight, though." 

Ms. Jiménez grunted thoughtfully. "We'll just have to keep an eye on that, I guess."

MV2: Negotiated Planning

"We're probably going to have to set you up with classes online," Mr. Carillo said, as the other monsters filed out. "Feeding won't be an issue -- we have a decent staff of human donors, who rotate feedings so nobody gives too much. You can feed safely, can't you?"

"So far," Andy told the ghost. 

"That's a relief. What I'd like is to get you the rest of the way to your diploma in the earlier hours of the evening, and then work with you on abilities and anything else you're interested in afterwards."

That didn't sound bad. "All right," Andy said cautiously.

Mr. Carillo smiled reassuringly. "I feel like I should remind you that you aren't trapped here," he said gently. "We're trying to help you so you can go back into the larger world when you feel ready. You could walk out the gates right now, and nobody would stop you."

Andy nodded. "Except for the bit where my maker is out there somewhere, hunting for me."

"Except for that," Mr. Carillo admitted. "Still, it's your choice."

Andy sighed. "You're right, it's just... Look, I like going to school. I'm good at it. Online classes will be fine, and I do want to graduate. But this thing with Titus Anthropicus... I've done some fencing, some wrestling, and a little karate -- plus gymnastics and track. None of that leaves me feeling like I could defend myself against him, let alone all three of them."

The ghost took a long moment to consider that, then said: "First, let me emphasize that you're safe here. The wards around this campus have been built up over decades. Your maker and his friends would have a very difficult time trying to come for you here. Second... we don't normally train people to fight, but we can. I'd prefer if you also trained in things that might offer you some sort of reputable career, but there are those of us who make their living through violence. The Hunters are among them. So if you want combat training, we can provide that. Just be aware that it's likely to set you apart from a lot of your fellow students."

Andy shook his head. "I don't know about careers," he said. "I mean, I really have no idea. I just... right now, if they drove a van through the gate, I've got nothing going for me but claws. So sure, let's look at other things for a career -- Rodney suggested something along the lines of Accountant By Night -- but also I need to be able to defend myself."

Mr. Carillo nodded thoughtfully. "All right. I can pull some strings for that." 

MV2: Classmates

Distracted as he was, Andy hadn't gotten a good look at the inside of the building; but the room he followed Maria and the black-eyed child into had the very distinct look of a group therapy setup -- not that he'd ever been in that sort of therapy himself, but he couldn't imagine any other reason for a circle of chairs in the middle of a room with essentially no other furniture. 

Mr. Carillo was seated opposite the door, and Andy could see what Veronica had meant: he was misty, half-transparent, and hard to see even in the brightness of the fluorescent lights overhead. The chairs were cheap and basic: molded plastic seats and backs, with metal legs underneath. One of them creaked as a smooth-faced, androgynous figure settled into it. 

Y.T. squeezed his shoulder, but went and sat on the far side of the circle when Andy followed Maria and Tom and took a seat beside the boy. 

Once everyone was seated, Mr. Carillo stood. "Some of you have already met our newest student, Andrew McFall -- he goes by Andy. Andy, would you say a few words? You'll get the chance to meet your fellow students over the next few days, but for now I'll be getting you oriented and setting up your schedule."

Andy sighed and stood up, then looked around the circle of chairs. It was every bit as diverse as Mr. Carillo had described it; aside from Y.T. and the ghosts, he couldn't even remotely identify what sort of monsters his fellow students were. "Hi," he said. "I'm Andy. I'm a wight, obviously, newly turned and still kind of in shock about that." He sighed, then raised a hand a made a vague circling gesture. "Can we just assume I said the usual platitudes about being glad to meet you and looking forward to getting to know you? I'm not trying to be an asshole, and if you aren't either we'll probably get along just fine, but this kind of speech isn't really my thing."

Tom reached out and touched his hand, and a low rumble of laughter circled the room.

"Well said," chuckled a brown-haired man in dark slacks, a tan trench coat, and a fedora. He was misty and half-visible, just as Mr. Carillo was; one of the ghosts, then.

Mr. Carillo nodded. "Welcome to the Rocky Mountain Introductory Academy."

MV2: Names and Appellations

The other wight shrugged. "It's kind of a rite of passage. New name, new life."

And shrugged back at her. "You know I've only been a wight for like a week, right?"

"Seriously?" she asked. "And you can already make claws?"

Andy sighed, but decided not to answer. He didn't know what the other wight was looking for here, and nothing he said seemed to be the right sort of answer. After a moment he said, "Fine. What's your new name?"

"I'm thinking about using Y.T.," she told him. "Yours Truly. Whitey. It's a reference to--" 

"Snow Crash," Andy broke in.

Y.T. paused, then closed her mouth. "Yeah."

"I read it. Liked it, too. The character association is a little weird, but the name is clever."

"Um. Thank you? Maybe?"

He held up a hand uncertainly, dropped it. "I mean, she's... what? Fifteen? Sixteen? ...in the book. I'm guessing you're a little older. That's all."

"Twenty-five," she told him. "I don't know, maybe I'll decide on something else instead."

"I'm fine with calling you Y.T. for now," Andy said as they reached the main building and stepped inside. 

"Thanks, Andy. How old were you?"

He hesitated, then thought, What the hell. "Seventeen."

Y.T. gasped. "Seriously?" 

MV2: Getting Along

Maria and the boy rose immediately, and Andy followed a moment later. It was dark outside now, dark enough for them to move without fear of sunlight. 

Others were emerging from their rooms, falling into line cheerfully or reluctantly as they drifted along the corridor and out the front door. "Stay with us," said Maria, and the boy nodded. 

Andy nodded back. He had questions -- so many questions -- but this didn't seem the time to ask. He didn't want to be rude, and he'd accept whatever small kindnesses his fellow monsters cared to offer. This whole experience was dreamy, surreal; it wouldn't surprise him at all to wake up and find out that he was never really here...

But that was too much to hope for. 

"So you're him," said a voice in his ear. 

She'd come up beside him without his noticing, but he managed not to start. Instead, he turned his head and regarded a face like a corpse, white skin with bluish undertones, pale blue eyes, white hair...

A heartbeat of panic and dismay rolled through him, before he realized that this couldn't possibly be his mentor. This wight presented female, and was just as new-turned as he was... and most importantly, he had no sense of his maker's proximity at all.

"And you're her," he returned after a long, long moment. 

She nodded. "Word is you're something special," she said. 

Andy frowned. The hell? "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Bypassed the usual training, assisted the hunters, things like that."

Andy huffed and shook his head. "No. My maker was hunting me, and the hunters got me away from him. That's it."

"So you can't do anything?" she asked.

Andy shrugged. "I can feel when my maker gets close. I can have claws, if I want." He could all but feel Maria and the Black-Eyed Child listening in.

"That's still more than most of us arrive with," the other wight said. "Usually when we come here we just know how to feed safely."

"Yeah, well... that was the plan. But we kind of did a speed-run of that part. I'm Andy."

"...Andy." The wight studied him for a long moment as they neared the central building. "Seriously? Just Andy?"

He shrugged. "You want something more theatrical?" 

My Subconscious Is Having Issues

Had a solid night's sleep with really, really weird dreams: 

It started with the return journey on some sort of trip. Usually I spend these sort of dreams trying find things and/or get everyone together, but this time no: there were some challenges, but we all got back. "We", in this case, was "me and the people I was traveling with" so also it wasn't a family trip (as these dreams usually are).

No, the family element picked up once I was back home -- in my childhood home, in considerable and accurate detail -- when I discovered that my parents (both dead now IRL, my mom for a decade and my father just under a year) were going through my stuff -- unpacking my bags, washing and sorting clothes. For some reason, this infuriated me.  I think maybe there were some things in there I didn't want them to find? I don't know. But it was a full-on yelling, breaking-things-in-the-Activity-Room, throwing-furniture-around session. On top of the which there a couple of unfamiliar kids there, playing on our computers, who didn't want to go away. I remember shouting at them to get out.

I really have no idea what set this off. 

Brains are weird. 

MV2: Unwillingly Awake

Andy shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He'd slept, dreaming again of that horrid, blasted landscape; at least the beast had kept him company in his dreams. He still had the phoenix feather in its glass case, and the pistol that Steve had issued to him; he'd returned the shotgun, but Steve had advised him to keep the pistol and its ammunition locked away in his room. Since that likely involved breaking -- or at least bending -- a few rules for both of them, Andy had simply nodded and said nothing else about it. A showdown with his maker would have been nice, a way to tie things off one way or another, but apparently he didn't get that. 

No surprise. He stirred, rose, and brushed his teeth -- whether that was even needed anymore was an open question, but he'd rather smell of fresh cleaning than not. Then he dressed himself. 

He'd always had a good sense of time, and while it wasn't dark outside yet it would be soon. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a decent set of sandals... he had a pair of hiking boots, but if he used his claws he'd tear right through them. No, he wanted to keep those for when he felt safe. He could probably call out claws on his fingers without extending them from his toes as well, but he had no practice at that and didn't trust himself to manage it in the moment. If a moment comes up. It might not.

He couldn't step outdoors, but he could certainly leave his room; the hallway was empty, but he could hear voices from off to his left. He turned that way, followed it down, and found a sort of communal living room with a large, flat-screen television playing on one wall. Couches and chairs were scattered around, along with a few side-tables. A woman and a child were sitting on one of the couches; both turned to look at him as he stepped into the room.

The child reached forward, picked up a remote, and paused the baking contest that was showing on the screen. Looking back, he said: "Take me with you, mister?"

Andy blinked at him. "I don't think any of us are going anywhere until we're ready."

The pale-skinned child blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. Sorry. Reflex. You're new."

Andy nodded at that. "Very new." 

The woman smiled. "Maria," she said. "Ghoul. And you must be the new wight we were expecting."

Andy nodded uncomfortably. The woman was what he would generally have classified as adult, without any idea of a specific age. "Andy," he said. "Don't let me interrupt you. I just couldn't sleep any longer."

"Yeah, it's a challenge," Maria said. "I can't sleep through the entire day, but I can't go outside in daylight yet. Tom, here, is the same. I'm hoping it'll be easier in the winter -- shorter days, longer nights."

The boy nodded. "You're another wight?"

"Entirely against my will, but yes," Andy said, forcing himself to meet those black eyes. "It's okay if you want to put your show back on."

The child-seeming boy nodded. "It's okay if you want to come sit with us."

Andy nodded and came forward, settling into a chair as the baking show began again. He had no particular interest in cooking, but the show was charming and he didn't mind the quiet company. It was a full half an hour later before a bell sounded over the speakers that he hadn't even noticed in the room.