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. 

MV2: First Impressions

Andy looked around as they turned off the farm road and onto a wide, cobbled driveway. They were well away from the highway now, traveling on farm roads and byways; the terrain had gone irregular and hilly, and he could see mountains in the distance. There were trees, but not many; those mostly followed the course of creeks and streams. 

The stone wall with its wrought-iron gates seemed out of place, out here in the relative middle of nowhere, but Veronica drove the van up to it and stopped. In the back, Steve stirred as she rolled down the window, then leaned out a pressed a button on some kind of speaker arrangement. After a long moment, a voice asked, "Veronica? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Got the new student for you."

The voice was male, and sounded older. "Ah. Right. We weren't expecting you until tomorrow."

Veronica shrugged. "We decided to move quickly. And since ambush failed, Eleni wants to get back to the hunt." 

"Come on up. I'll meet you out front."

The gates swung open, and Veronica guided the van under the stone arch and into the school. 

The central building had the look of an old stone factory, with rough, heavy blocks forming the outer walls and narrow windows scattered around. A more modern building, two-storied but still smaller, sat off to their left, and a handful of other buildings were scattered around as well. What caught Andy's attention were the obstacle course -- what else could it be? -- and the climbing tower, both of which made his palms itch for a try at them. 

It was still an hour or two before dawn -- he'd lost track --  but his vision had adjusted almost on its own and the figure on the porch of one of the smaller buildings was clearly visible: a grey-haired man in a rumpled suit, standing at the top of the wooden steps. Despite the hour, he looked awake and alert, his posture almost military.

"Alejandro Carillo," Veronica said quietly. "Mister Carillo, to you. You can trust him. He's an old friend -- my mentor, after I turned." 

Andy nodded. "Werewolf?"

Veronica shook her head. "Ghost. He's making a special effort to be solid for you; normally he's harder to see."

Andy took a moment to think about that, but the thought that came to him first was just... It had never occurred to him that he might have woken up as a ghost instead of a wight. But given his sudden, violent death... he could easily picture himself hanging around to protect his little sister Judith. God, that would have been a mess. "Sorry," he said after a long moment. "I mean, we all know stories, but it never occurred to me that I might actually meet a ghost. Socially, I mean." 

MV2: More Travel

They drove north and west, heading out of Oklahoma and towards... Andy didn't know, and didn't care enough to ask. One of their schools, which were supposed to teach him to use and control powers once he knew enough to feed safely.. That was enough for him. As the van made its way along the highway -- moving at night, since Rodney couldn't keep up otherwise and nobody wanted to try shoving his motorcycle into the van itself -- Andy thought through the questions he did want answered. 

"Any more information on Titus?" he asked, glancing over at Steve. 

Steve shrugged. 

Andy said, "Come on, I know you get information that you aren't sharing with me."

This time Steve sniffed, looking amused. "All right. He's a revolutionary. Calls himself Titus Anthropicus. Origin uncertain, but he's been active in the U.S. for at least a century. Violently opposed to the Settlements -- Reservations, they're usually called. He refers to them as concentration camps, and that's..." Steve sighed. "Not entirely right, but not entirely wrong either. 'Reservations' is better. He's got a long history of sabotage, organizing, and at least two deliberate assassinations. The werewolf calls himself Lycan't, and he's... generally been more of a mercenary than anything else. The nightbringer's new, though -- we don't know much of anything about her."

Andy nodded as he took that in. "All right. That helps. So he was... doing his thing, wound up chased by the police, broke into my house and murdered me while his friend ate my girlfriend, and then managed to escape despite looking like a badly-reanimated corpse. And one way or another, he realized -- or expected -- that I'd wake up like this, so he came looking to... recruit me? I guess?"

Steve shrugged. "Maybe. He definitely wants you for something." Which meant maybe the phoenix feather or maybe something else entirely.

Andy nodded slowly. "What about Lorraine, and... was it John?"

Steve chuckled, then fell silent. "I heard how you handled John," he said quietly. "And.. it wasn't subtle, or discreet. You weren't wrong, exactly -- that guy was going to be a problem, one way or another, any way he could find -- but you made yourself look like a threat to civilians, too."

"Sorry." Andy looked away, out the window. "He just... I don't know. Something about that guy really pissed me off." 

Steve nodded, then paused for a long moment. "Lorraine was... mauled. Not fed on, not infected -- deliberately, it seems -- but murdered with claws. John was taken, and we haven't seen any sign of him since. We assume he's traveling with Titus, and probably being trained by him -- possibly as a replacement for you. After you drained him, it would have been easy to tip him over the edge; you might even be able to sense him if he gets close to you, since you contributed to his turning."

Andy shuddered. "Dear God, I hope not." He didn't want that weight on his conscience. 

Steve shook his head. "Not your fault. He would have lived if Titus hadn't intervened. And whatever the faults in our current system, Lorraine wasn't doing anybody any harm. Titus chose to murder her anyway."

"I'm going to kill him," Andy said. "Permanently."

"You're not--"

"Quiet," Andy told the werewolf. "I'm manifesting over here." 

"Yeah." Steve sighed. "Just remember, if you're manifesting then Titus likely is too." He hesitated, again. "So manifest hard."