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.

MV2: Settling The Basics

"This is our dormitory," Mr. Carillo said. "Each student gets their own room, at least to start with. We're on a purely nocturnal schedule, though not everybody needs that."

"I will," said Andy, absently. He was missing Steve and Veronica, and even Rodney -- even though they'd just left. It wasn't quite one change too many, but it was close; they'd been anchors while he was at sea. 

Mr. Carillo nodded. "I know. We get more wights than you might think; we have another one here now."

"How many students?" he asked. There was something dully generic about this place: patterned carpeting, painted walls, panel ceiling, lights and doors at regular intervals. The outer walls were light-colored brick, and the lower floor -- which they were traversing now -- lacked windows, or much of anything in the way of decorations. 

"Fifteen, at present," Mr. Carillo answered. "One wight, two ghosts, two vampires, a demon, two new-risen nature spirits, a zombie, three werewolves, an animate, a ghoul, and one of the black-eyed children. Sixteen, counting you; you're our second wight."

Andy nodded. He didn't exactly care, but he thought he should know. "I suppose we'll have... what? Classes and a schedule?"

Mr. Carillo nodded. "Exactly. You're still finishing high school, and we'll help you get to a diploma; in addition, we'll work more on feeding, and developing some basic powers to align with the sort of monster you wish to become. Frequently, that includes a plan to avoid being any more of a monster than you absolutely have to: ignoring your powers, dealing effectively with restrictions and compulsions -- including feeding -- and finding a job that will allow you to fit in with the mundane world."

That sounded like a lot, but then they'd probably had a long time to study the problem and try things out. Andy couldn't imagine how he was supposed to have a normal life when he needed to drain a certain amount of youth each night, but maybe he could find something. 

The idea that an ordinary relationship was pretty much impossible was depressing, but not unexpected. I'm so sorry, Amy. If you hadn't come over to my house, you wouldn't be dead now. Yeah, it was a dumb accident and not my fault, but still... 

He shook his head and stopped beside Mr. Carillo at one of the doors. 

"This will be your room, for now," Mr. Carillo told him. "Put your things away and rest. We'll resume your education tomorrow night."

MV2: Welcome to the Classroom

Andy waited until Veronica turned off the van before he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out. They'd made some brief stops -- long enough to get him a decent set of very generic clothing and a bag to keep it in. That was fine; fashion was the least of his concerns at this point. 

Veronica stepped out first, approached Mr. Carillo, and offered her hand. He shook it, smiling, then turned to Andy. "So this is our new student?"

Andy nodded. "And hopefully not too much of a problem."

Mr. Carillo huffed a laugh. "I promise you, our entire mission here is to help ease you past your problems."

That sounded encouraging, at least. "...Thank you," Andy said, after an awkward moment. 

"We have a room prepared. If you don't have clothing, we can provide it." 

"We grabbed a few outfits and basic toiletries," Veronica said quietly, "but nothing... personal."

Andy shrugged. "It's fine."

Mr. Carillo took a moment to study him. "You're really new, aren't you? I mean, I knew that -- it's right there in the file -- but we don't usually get new students until they've been changed for several months."

"I imagine most of them aren't being hunted by their makers," Andy observed, keeping his tone neutral.

"No, generally not," Mr. Carillo agreed. "Right, well, let's get you into a comfortable room, a hot bath, and a proper nervous breakdown, shall we?"

Andy considered that. "Yeah, that sounds about right," he admitted.