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Chapter 1 - Beginning Rotation

Noon, November 10th, 2007 - Miskatonic Valley, NH

Scald-Crow
I thought the trip aboard a train would be without any problems. But, I should already know by now, I was a child who drew the ill-luck of Loki himself to my side. The trip itself had been completely quiet, and all I had to do was make the last few hours from Boston to the Dunwich station. Sure, I'd seen a few things in the last few days, but I had paid them no mind. The shape of a cat shifting around in the shadows as I walked down deserted quiet train cars. The large form of a black dog in others. Each and every time I only saw them in passing. In the corner of my eye and never clear.

Mirrors were the worst. I swore every few times I gazed in one I would catch that black-haired girl watching me. Her hood covering her face as her lips were visible pulled into a tight pained line. The night before I woke today, she'd been there just as I left, and this time I swore I saw a single burning eye from the darkness of her hood. She was mouthing something, and when I turned around to look again she was gone.

"Don't touch me!" the words leaped from my mouth as I bared my teeth at the older teen who dared to touch my ass. Every piece of me felt violated as the gawky teen jumped back. My reflection showed the small fiery glow beating in my eyes as I turned away and covered my face.

"Jeez, calm down, girl," the kid said as he held up both hands.

"Hey, shit brains, back off!" Sophia added as she strolled across the observation car. We were both in the lounge just trying to kill time instead of remaining in our seats. The kid’s heavy Southie accent didn't help as I glared at him.

"Ye touch me gain, ye damn bloody shite, I'll rip off yer face!" I screeched at him. It was at this point he made his retreat and I felt my hands start to shake. Images flashed in my vision as I had the sudden feeling of large hands grasping my own and pushing me down to my knees. A small whine escaped from my lips as my breathing increased and my heart pounded in my ears.

"Please, no," I whimpered as more images came and I found myself pressed up against the wall of the lounge.

"Gráinne, he's gone, breath with me," Sophia's voice broke through the fog of panic.

"Oh me goddess," I shook. Her arms were around me as I closed my eyes.

"I'm here for ye lass. Breathe, he and the others are gone." The ghostly arms of Morgan encircled my body as I felt a few small sobs wrack my body.

Ever since I put distance between me and my family the panic attacks had grown more common. When I had been home I'd been able to rush to my mom or my dad to work me through the worst of it. But being out of my element and the safety of my family home only made things worse. I had to put physical distance between myself and others. Any man or boy who came near me, I immediately backed away if I didn't know them. At least two feet between me and anyone was enough for me to maintain my sanity.

Between this and the weird moving shadows following me I was pretty sure I was losing it. Sophia led me from the observation car and through the shifting doors connecting our car with the lounge. Just before the doors slid shut, something darted out from between the legs of two passengers. I didn't even see it until I was in our car and once again caught a sudden movement seen from the corner of my eye.

"Old things left to sleep are waking up again. My own slumber sealed them, and now they sense me as we draw closer to the school." Morgan's portents were getting more commonplace and at times more confusing. The spirit held a definite level of obfuscation only an ancient entity like herself could. I swore a faerie was dwelling in my skull, and at any moment she was going to appear like Gandolf in The Hobbit and ask me to steal from a dragon.

"Not a bad book, but no, I'm not ready to tell you about dragons just yet. Or what lays before us."

"You've been sayin' that fer the last three days," I said.

"I have not the strength to reveal more yet, my heart, the murder of Sinead drained much of my essence," Morgan had explained the situation more than once. An attack that murdered her previous host left her near oblivion until we had bonded. One reason my changes were so extensive was that she needed a tighter bond to recover. Still, I wish she would drop the Jedi Master trope and just tell me what her plans were.

"When I can, and when we are safe, I will discuss the future with you." I gave a roll of my eyes and shook my head. All I could do was get to Whateley and go to school. RIght?

"Just two more stops..." the train slowed as we reached another station in the line. The last few steps for our seats weren't far away and I returned to find Sophia reading another book. This was one of the assigned reads from the magic class her mother bought beforehand.

"What are you learning today Soph?" I asked her. The native girl looked up, raised her chocolate brown eyes as a smirk came to her lips.

"Not much, just reviewing since I'm behind in class. The message Professor Grimes sent ahead to mom was pretty extensive of what I would need to prepare for the end of term," she told me.

From what I could figure Sophia had already registered for classes. Of the two of us, she had the most experience to fall back upon. Both Corinne and Gerald were assisting my family with my new mutant status, but I could tell mom was struggling in a few places. I mean she's gone from loving the X-Men as a kid to having one as a kid. A real mind break there, am I right?

I let myself go limp in my seat and I closed my eyes. A feeling of being watched from across the car caused me to snap them open a few minutes later to land a glare there. Nothing was watching me, of course, and in response, I gave an angry snort. Sophia eyed me from where she sat and shook her head.

"I keep seeing things!" I grumbled.

"Welcome to having witch senses, I see things too, but I'm not dramatic about it," she replied coolly.
She had me there. I was making a deal out of it to some degree. The anxiety of a change and not being in my comfort zone was definitely turning it all up to eleven.

"I'm only a Wiz 1, how in the world am I seeing things you don't?" I inquired.

"I'm not the one bonded to what might be a war god," Sophia replied.
In the time since my reveal as an Avatar, I'd told Sophia a bit about Morgan. This was done after the spirit gave her explicit approval, of course.

"Dun tell har too much." I noticed that Morgan's accent thickened when she was angry, and for some ungodly reason, I was starting to adopt her soft melody and trill.

"In fer a penny and fer a pound." She snorted as I rolled my eyes once again.

The train started to slow as I stared off into the distance. Were we already in Dunwich? I narrowed my eyes, a sign whisked passed the window. “Now Entering the Miskatonic Valley” it read. Miskatonic? Where in the nine have I seen that?

"Huh, didn't think it was real." Morgan's comments were helping as the spirit was obviously more in the know than me. The train continued deeper into the valley as deciduous trees and greenery-filled my sight. If I wasn't from the Great Northwest I'd likely be awed a little bit by the wilderness of the place, but come on, I grew up in Northwest Washington. To me, Wilderness was a landscape filled with alpine rainforest. Not on an Alaskan level of "nobody is here", but still more than this quaint little valley. If anything it just reminded of another Stephen King novel, and my outright dislike of the man's obsession with Maine.

Yes, I don't like Stephen King, sue me, he's a good writer, but he's not for me.

I leaned back into my seat and tried to forget the scenery. I'd be living in it for the next four years of my life and I didn't want to overdo it in one go. Even as I closed my eyes that annoying little feeling of being watched returned. This time, I canted my head toward the opposite seats and slid my eyes open. As I did I saw four distinct shadowy feet jump off from the seat and tumble under it out of the corner of my eye.
So great, periphery vision rules, fucking hell witch vision!

"Faerie rules lass." Morgan chuckled in the recesses of my head.

If I kept rolling my eyes I was going to make myself dizzy. A small smile graced my lips as I realized I'd finally calmed my anxiety down, for the moment. Letting out a slow exhale I tapped my foot as a few more minutes passed and the scenery changed to a small quaint train platform.

"Now arriving in Dunwich, New Hampshire," came the call over the com. I perked up at our journey ending its latest leg, and I rose immediately as Sophia was already on her feet and gathering her things. As if called by magic Corinne joined us shortly dragging a small bag for herself and the four large suitcases both of us brought for the year. I blushed as she handed mine to me and said, "I know you can handle these."
I'm an Exemplar four, so I can lift a lot, so they tell me.

Getting off was easy, we were pretty much the only passengers in our car. As we reached the platform I breathed in the chilly New England air and stretched. A few cracks were heard from my neck and my knuckles. Okay, I can do this, I can go to a new school across the country. I repeated the small mantra over and over again. The platform was simply a long piece of pavement near a small town main street. A colonnade cover met my gaze as I scanned the outline of the low-hung mountains in the distance. Heh, mountains, unless they can spew fire and ash, they ain't mountains to -me-. Corinne was once again on her phone as Sophia waited beside me her face back in that stupid book.

So I was alone, for now.

I drank in the sight of the small town, and yup it was a small little town just like the annoying towns I knew back in Whatcom County. My eyes dragged across the shop fronts until I spied a young blonde leaning against the divider fence a few feet away. Huh, okay, I'm going to use my spidey senses and assume she's our contact, right? Taking a breath I set myself by Sophia and strolled over to her. Blue-green eyes met mine as I noted the inverted triangular shape of her face. Her blonde hair while well kept was held back in a military issue bun under a nondescript cap. A few quick deductions and it was her military boots that gave her away. My dad counsels Vietnam vets, and I've got army and navy relatives. This woman was a vet or at least had military training to some degree.

"Um, hey," I waved shortly before flushing bright red. Yup, there was old man anxiety right back behind me.

"From your hair and eyes, I take it you are Gráinne O'Callaghan," the woman said. I blinked for just a moment, there was something a tad familiar about how she talked.

"Wow, so yeah, you are someone sent here by the school," I reacted in a typical not -too- surprised fashion.

"Sam Everheart, Whateley Academy Security," she offered me her hand and I did my best strong grip without crushing it.

"Can I ask what service you were with?" I asked out of the blue.

"Navy, how you tell?" she asked casually.

"Your boots, your hair bun, and I grew up with Vietnam vets for cousins," I replied. I mean it wasn't hard! Washington also had a massive military presence just south of where I live so it wasn't at all unusual seeing off duty folks just living life.

"Not bad," she replied before waving to Corinne to get her attention.

"Ah, Everheart nice to finally meet you," Corinne Jameson, a pure professional as the adults met and exchanged the usual handshakes. The two began to talk as Corinne inquired about the current state of Security on Campus and I waited for Sophia to join me. My friend finally stuffed her book into her satchel and gave me one of those "what" looks.

"You're back with the living," I chided her.

"Hey, you get lost in your head, I'm prepping for a magic class, don't judge," she shrugged to me.

Miss Everheart and Corinne finished their initial conversation before I found myself shepherded into a large white van with the words "Whateley Academy" on the side. All our luggage was loaded up with Corinne reminding me that I could lift most of it easily before we all piled in. The drive there was itself, more of the scenery from before. A deep forest seemed to surround a portion of the road as we drove onward. A small sign with the words "Now Entering the Medawhila Tribal Reservation" certainly brought back memories. From the chatter between Corinne and Miss Everheart, the former was in touch with someone in the local tribal government. From my experiences with Sophia's family, many of the first nations in the US had open lines of communication with each other.

Just as we drove up to the buildings I would learn about, the various halls, cottages, and other parts of the Whateley Campus time seem to freeze for me. Two things occurred which etched into my memory. A black shape, the size of a large wolf dash from behind three trees. Four legs, and not much else, but I did spy a pair of red eyes. The last however was a weird feeling of joy, dread, and what I can only describe as an epiphany.

"It's here! The heart of the trees is HERE!" Morgan seemed to sing with rapture at sensing something. Her words drew my gaze back to the trees, and all I could do was wonder.

Mid-Afternoon, November 10th, 2007 - Admin Offices, Schuster Hall

Scald-Crow
"Patience, mo Róis, do not let your fear of the wolf's den make you fear any Ollamh or teacher." Morgan's words were laced with care as she spoke to me. Sophia was gone along with her mother, leaving only myself and my student handbook. 

Earlier that morning before switching trains Soph had walked me through what to wear for the uniform. A collared pure white ruffled blouse with long sleeves. I checked my cuffs and made sure they were buttoned. Sophia fixed my collar and then showed me how to tie the solid black tie I'd been given. She explained that black meant I was assigned to Poe Cottage, and I quirked an eye at her.

"Cottage system, you know Gryffindor and Ravenclaw House?" she said to me. Immediately, I got it. So, my identity was attached to the Cottage and its name was Poe. How did she know that?

"How do you know which house I'm in?" I asked her as she smoothed out her black dress pants while I was stuck in a black pleated skirt which grazed the top of my knees. Gods, I was so pale people would be claiming the Red Arrow of Gondor had been fired to Rohan.

"Mom," she replied and added, "and the Handbook indicates which tie colors to buy based upon your House assignments."
She proceeded to open my book to the page on girl uniform requirements and even pointed it out to me. I, of course, shot a glance toward the dijon yellow and grey striped tie she wore and upon noticing my expression she replied.

"I'm in Whitman, mom and grandpa want me to be in an all-girl Cottage while your parents asked for the one known for mental illness," she said.

"You mean the name of the Raven poet didn't give it away," I smiled, "might as well declare my goth name as Nightpain while I'm at it."

Sophia giggled at my joke. Being a quintessential high school goth and a former social kid, we both ran the gamut of the high school clique memes. I, of course, loved a few of Edgar's works, and while I wasn't surprised by the Cottage's name it did seem a little "on the nose" to me.
This brings us all the way back to where I was before our little trip down memory lane. Sam Everheart remained with me as a chaperone. From what the security officer told me she was there at the request of my parents and Gerald Jameson. The fact I'd indirectly killed a leading Humanity First member back home and possibly had a ghost woman stalking me meant I was a possible 'anomaly' the school didn't want to ignore. I didn't bother asking her why they also kept me away from other students, but it all seemed like I wasn't the first hunted trans girl they'd had. Especially one with connections to a few bad seeds in the MCO!

After the third attempt to strike a further conversation with Miss Everheart I returned to quietly just witness the school grounds. I noted a red flag flying at one point and made a mental note to ask about it. Places like this always had some sort of etiquette which wasn't the most obvious. Plus, I was pretty sure I had seen at least one reference in the school manual when I 'skimmed' it earlier.
"Alright, here we are," Miss Everheart stated, "Schuster Hall."

A quick look at the building and I barely had a hot second before she was opening the door. The actual movement I was undergoing was pretty rushed. The grand doors of the Hall opened up as several students pushed past us just past the entrance. Perhaps this is where the size and 
grandeur of the school slowly started to sink in. Directly across from me was a massive mahogany staircase. Interspersed throughout the hall were a collection of couches, chairs, and small tables. Each cluster was carefully decorated with beautiful potted plants from which a few careful views revealed to be a mixture of flowers and some with colored leaves.

The actual homey massive school lodge feel was completed by the two massive fireplaces on opposite ends of the hall just as I entered. Miss Everheart appeared to give me just enough time to witness the formality bleeding from the room before she whisked me down another hallway. I barely had time to notice the words "Administrative Offices" on the door before I found myself once again in the Faculty Offices of my High School.

Great, I'm barely one day onto school and I was about to see the Principal. The only exception is this one called herself a Headmistress. The big difference here was the size of the secretarial pool. Ferndale Sported one main receptionist as the School Secretary, an entire grouping of cubicles here revealed the size of Whateley's administrative machine.

"Mrs. Carson is busy at the moment," a secretary from the pool stated just as we entered and upon seeing me. Everheart gave a curt nod before quickly conversing with the office worker about which bigwig I was going to be lectured by. Everything just screamed planning and as I stood there all I could do is wait.

"Hmmm. This school is tenser than a meeting of the Daoine Tír." Morgan shifted in my hallow and the feeling of being out of sync with my body returned. The Daoine Tír? I wondered aloud letting the thought shift in place of speech.

"My folk." She replied. The words sound Celtic to me and as I was about to think about it further she said, "Tis what the Gaels call us."

The Gaels? More questions and before I could pressure my spirit further someone spoke to me.

"Miss O'Callaghan," the words were succinct and precise. Another blonde, this one with a much higher air of authority than Sam Everheart was addressing me. She appeared to either be in her twenties or thirties and would definitely count as a knockout to anyone. Her golden blonde hair was worn in a neat French twist braid ending at the base of her neck. A pair of blue eyes watched me behind standard-issue thin, wireframe glasses. Her attire consisted of a violet long-sleeved collared blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt. What caught my eye was the small way her eyes moved over me in a cool methodical accounting. This woman's demeanor screamed code mistress to me.

"Uh, aye, tis me." I winced internally as my words flowed with the burr of Morgan's dream accent. It appeared the longer I was bonded to her the more of her habits I was adopting.

"Please come sit in front of my desk," the blonde speaking to me gestured politely to a large desk located just outside the Headmistress’ office.

Attempting to be a smart young lass I noted the name painted on a small plaque situated on a large expansive desk, Amelia Hartford, Assistant Headmistress. "Watch wha ye say, my heart. This woman be not an enemy ye want."

"Take a seat, Miss O'Callaghan," again those words were precise and ordered. Just enough that anyone with a long enough time with any software nut in Seattle would pick up the coder lurking behind them. When she said sit, I did and placed my hands in my lap.

"Let us begin," she spoke and placed a filed with my name on it on her desk. Miss Hartford didn't even sit but instead leaned over her desk to open the file and turn it around so I could read it.

"These are your room and cottage assignments." Her right index pointed at the emboldened "Poe Cottage, Room 236." She raised her eyes to meet my own and gave me an expression that I understood to me "you following me."

"You will be rooming with a Sophmore, Alexis Dunn, codenamed Shipwright, she will be able to explain the details of what's expect at Poe cottage." She returned her expression and waited this time for me to nod.

"Do you know why you are meeting with me?" she asked after finally taking a seat and closing her hands together.

"I'm a risk for the school," I said bluntly, "I was almost expelled for violence at Ferndale High, and killed someone."
My depression related to past acts bled through my words. I hadn't given into the trauma just waiting to make me break down on the spot, but I was nearing it.

"Well put," she said and adjusted her glasses, "and while Mrs. Carson would see you. She's currently busy at the moment."

"Th-thank you for giving me your time." I stuttered out before clamping my lips shut.

"My time is a rare commodity," she stated before continuing, "and you are right. You are a flight risk and a noted exemplar rager. We aren't taking chances with you, Miss O'Callaghan."

I didn't care how blunt and cold this woman spoke to me. She wasn't fake about it. Miss Hartford didn't give a fake too white smile filled with candied bullshit. She was being real and talking to me as a person and who was expected to understand it. This -bint- was giving me the agency I craved.

"Your family lawyer, Mr. Jameson, sent me over your permanent record from the Ferndale School System.” She paused before laying out my information in front of me and tapped the notes about my former expulsion. “Because of your history, the faculty are still discussing your schedule along with the recommendations forwarded by your parents. Your new schedule will be ready tomorrow morning.”

This meant they weren't giving me a choice. I was the traumatized berserk girl and they were going to tell me my schedule to a 't'. When it was ready that was what I was assigned and all control over what electives I wanted was out of my hands. Closing my eyes I grit my teeth to flush out that annoyance building in my body. I wanted to slam my fist onto the desk and exclaim that no one was going to dictate my schedule to me without consulting me! Remember Grainne, you're the girl who killed someone, you don't get a choice.

Yup, I wasn't going to have a life here, just a happy little robot in the school of wizards and mutants.

"Now, the second most important thing you will need to understand," she began opening a drawer and depositing another packet of information. Ultra Violent Regulations for School Year 2007 - 2008 it read in large red letters. Okay, this was the dramatic ruleset I was going to be put under, good to know. I let the last of my internalized snark fade away as she opened the packet and began laying it out for me. In its entirety, the packet was a secondary ten-page set of precautions I was taking as a rager. It also included a classification of rager and the various warning signs each classification wore on campus. This is where she then held out another sheet and required me to read and sign to make sure I legally understood the rules being set for my stay.

"You are being categorized as a Class Two Rager, and with your past assault experiences we are setting a few ground rules for you," she then told me to hold out my arm as she proceeded to roll a red armband with the word's "Ultra Violent" up on my right arm.

"Miss O'Callaghan, you must wear this at all times when out of your assigned room. As per your triggers, we will be making sure you have access to at least one student volunteer with rape trauma experience in your Cottage," and I let loose a sigh of relief at that. Yeah, it sounds stereotypical, but having one person I can meet and just not having to relive it all to get them to comprehend my emotional pain was - uplifting.

"She's more bureaucratic than a Roman Censor." I blinked at hearing a random comment straight out of history from my spirit.

"Um. So if someone intentionally triggers me, they get in trouble," I asked.

"Yes, and no, we expect you to remove yourself from the situations to mitigate it," she replied. Okay, again, the onus was on me to prevent my episodes. It wasn't at all unrealistic for the lovely level of acceptance women still had to go through as survivors. Inhaling slowly through my nose, I let the slowly growing panic attack rush along with my limbs. The thought of having to always be aware was with me and just heightened my already growing habitual hyperawareness. My fingers dug hard into the armrest of my chair causing the wooden surface to creak from my enhanced strength.

"Miss O'Callaghan, kindly do not break my chair?" her words instantly caught my attention and I ceased squeezing the armrest.

"Yes, Ma'am, sorry, Ma'am," which came out of my mouth sounding like "mum". Ms. Hartford gazed at me for a moment before adjusting her seating. A few moments later she was going through the files as I waited there on the spot.

"You understand it all I take it?" she asked me. I gave a slow pendulous nod as Miss Hartford placed all the information into an envelope for me to keep. Even as I felt my anxiety growing again, I attempted to focus on my breathing, but just as I raised my gaze to spy Miss Hartford again something skittered in front of the door behind her. It appeared as a faint shadow, yet as my eyes focused I could see the change in movement in the originally stationary backdrop behind her desk. 

"Please bring Envy to the office," she said. A bit too busy with tracking moving shadows I nearly let out a squeal as I heard her speak again. My focus was shattered as whatever little shadowy paws I attempted to follow disappeared as Hartford made a command to an idling secretary. The woman from the pool gave a small start as she realized the Assistant Headmistress was talking to her. 

"Right away, ma'am," the young office worker squeaked before turning to her phone to make a quick call to Envy's cottage.

This left me with one burning question. What girl calls herself Envy?

A Few Minutes Later, November 10th, Whateley Academy Campus

Envy
Wandering into Schuster Hall, gliding through the halls with unnatural grace, Envy approached Ms. Hartford’s desk near the apex of the administration. Only a few steps away was Headmistress Carson’s office, her mother’s nemesis. After a moment’s pause, she continued past the rows of desks in the secretarial pool outside the office. It was strange that Ms. Hartford didn’t have her own office, but Envy considered the commanding view that she had amongst the secretaries and understood. This was the hub of administration, every scrap of information passed through here. The Assistant Headmistress was like Julius Ceasar leading from the front.

Envy found the Assistant Headmistress sitting at her desk across from a stunning athletic redhead that was fidgeting, rolling on the balls of her feet impatiently. The girl was wearing a Whateley uniform, like Envy’s only more wrinkled and sloppy. The one difference between her and the pale-skinned redhead was the red ultraviolent armband that graced her upper arm. Her hair was wild, the kind that tangles moments after combing. Seeing a shadow move in the polished metal plaque behind the title ‘Ms. Hartford, Assistant Headmistress’ emblazoned in neat lettering, she felt a chill down her spine.

"Miss Valocco, good timing as always,” Ms. Hartford greeted with a genuine smile. As the school’s Syndicate representative, she and Envy were technically on the same side in the meta-culture of the mutant community. Few students saw the good side of ‘Hardass’. Envy didn’t have to be an empath to read the new girl’s reaction as she glanced over her shoulder at her, then did a double-take. Emerald green eyes, brighter than Envy’s, glanced down her body before she turned away to conceal her blush, legs pressing tight together. A new Poesie then, Envy concluded in the privacy of her mind, though more of a lily. “Thank you, Ms. Hartford,” she said aloud, “I would have been here sooner but it’s a red flag day. How can I help?”

"I would like you to give Miss O’Callaghan here her orientation,” Hartford said, adjusting her glasses before sitting back down. O’Callaghan blushed bright red as she looked from the adult to Envy. “Um,” she stuttered, “I’m Gráinne.”

Smiling, Envy offered her hand. “No codename yet? That’s ok, approval can take a while. I’m Envy, I’ll show you around and get you situated at Poe.” Looking to Ms. Hartford, the Assistant Headmistress gave her a nod. “Thank you, Ma’am, I’ll let her know everything she needs to know.” Quickly pulling the new girl away, Envy breathed easier. A secretary pointed them at an empty meeting room, so Envy led Gráinne inside and closed the door behind them. “I have a codename,” Gráinne stuttered once they were alone. Big green eyes watched Envy intently. “Mine is Scald-Crow,” she finally said.

"Nice to meet you,” Envy said gently, “my real name is Serafina Valocco. I’m in Poe, the same dorm as you, I’m also a frosh so we’ll be on the same floor. I know this is a lot to take in all at once.” Sitting on the edge of the desk, Envy crossed her legs. “For starters, I have to let you in on the big secret. Don’t talk about this anywhere you might be heard, these rooms are soundproof and swept for bugs regularly, so I can tell you here.”

"It is,” she murmured nervously before crossing her arms and shaking a bit, standing five feet away against the wall. “What’s the big secret?”

"You and I have something in common, we both admitted on our enrolment forms that we are part of the LGBTIQ+ community. Poe is for us legbutts, that’s the big secret. Openly, Poe is for weirder folks that don’t have the special needs of those in Hawthorne, that’s the dorm with folk that have dangerous mutations. We’re ‘the crazies’, as it were. It’s a pretty weak excuse considering some of the people in the hetero dorms but it’s worked so far.”

"Oh,” Gráinne said carefully. “I’m a lesbian… That’s good.” She said the words carefully before biting her inner lip.

Envy smirked. “Just a lesbian? I’d assumed that I was assigned to you because I’m trans.”

Gráinne’s eyes went wide as saucers. “I am! I am trans,” she burst out. “This is more common than just me, isn’t it?”

"It’s relatively rare when it comes to the overall population, but surprisingly common amongst the trans community. It seems that more of us manifest than the average, and when we do manifest we become our true sex. At Poe, you’ll be part of two sisterhoods, the lesbians and the transgirls. We’re your people.”

Her eyes were starting to tear up as she wanted to just sit there and cry. “So people will understand me then?” she asked, hugging her sides hard.

Envy nodded slowly. “I’d offer to hug you but I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’m a WIZ 3, PSI 3, EX 3, I changed sex when I manifested. It was a bit of a shock for me because I was in denial, and then I had to re-learn how to live. I was very different, I’d gone from a shlub nobody wanted to talk to to the hottest girl at school. But still, that phantom pain in the back of my head I never really understood is gone, so it’s good.”

"Thank you for asking me,” the redhead said unsurely as she looked down and flexed her hand, “and thank you for sharing.” She looked away as she tried to think about what to say. After a few minutes, she wrung her hands together before glancing at the floor. “I have to see a therapist,” she said slowly. “I’m exemplar 4, avatar 3 and wizard 1.”

"It’s ok, therapy will come. First, my job is to show you around our wonderful campus and get you into your dorm room,” Envy said brightly, smiling as she bounced to her feet. When you’re ready. Do you need a drink or anything? I figure we can swing by Crystal Hall first, it’s pretty impressive and houses the cafeteria.”

"Can you keep guys away from me?” Gráinne asked earnestly as her eyes darted towards the window. “I could use a few Poweraides, I’m pretty thirsty.”

"I’ll keep them away, I promise,” Envy said, opening the door and leading Gráinne out. They walked the hallways, Envy pointing out the facilities as they passed. Emerging from the building, Gráinne gasped at the crystal dome, rainbows dancing in the air around the building. Even for someone as jaded as Envy, it was a beautiful sight. As they walked towards the cafeteria, several students walked around them, avoiding coming too close.

"It’s the armband,” Envy told the new girl. “Most people know not to mess with people with a UV band on. If they do mess with you and you hurt them, it’s their fault. I know you probably don’t want to hurt people but that’s the situation, as long as you remember to wear the armband. Don’t worry, plenty of people will still be your friend.”

Pausing, Envy spots one of the flagpoles and points to it. “See the red flag? Those are all around campus. Keep an eye on them. Red means no powers unless you or someone else is in danger. Orange means be careful. Green means cut loose. It’s based on how many normies are around, technically we’re an ordinary boarding school in the middle of nowhere that doesn’t advertise through normal channels and isn’t on any maps.”

She nodded absently as they walked down the path. Distracted, she jumped when a boy across the quad gave them a catcall. Envy didn’t even look at him as she gave him the finger. “Don’t worry, the cafeteria will be mostly empty at this time of day.”

"Thank you,” she shivered as she walked closer to Envy, resisting reaching to hold onto her. “I don’t trust men much. I was almost raped at my last school.”

Envy’s eyes narrowed for a moment before becoming compassionate. “Preach it, girlfriend. I understand. I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise. The therapists here are some of the best, you’ll get all the support you could ever need.”

As they walked into the cafeteria, they paused to marvel at the strange acoustics of the dome, multiple levels rising above them. Envy took the lead, weaving around to avoid the small groups of students scattered around at the tables. Retrieving several bottles of Powerade for Gráinne and water for herself, she returned and handed the drinks to the redhead. “Here we go, this one’s on me.”

Gráinne ripped the cap off the first drink and downed half of it in a gulp. “Oh, thank you, I needed that.”

"That’s ok. So, yeah, this is the cafeteria, like most, it’s jam-packed at lunch but there are some allowances for ragers who can’t handle crowds. Don’t worry, the faculty won’t put anyone at risk.”

"That’s a relief,” Gráinne said between gulps, finishing her first bottle quickly. “What’s next?”

They walked down into the basement for the mandatory viewing of the trophy room, including the portrait of Lord Paramount and a small pile of gold bars. Climbing to the roof of Shuster Hall, Envy pointed out the dorms and buildings scattered around the campus grounds, including Poe and Hawthorne to the southwest.

"What’s that?” Gráinne asked suddenly pointing at a large stand of trees beyond Poe. “You can feel that?” Envy asked delightedly. “That’s The Grove, it’s an ancient place of power connected to the Sidhe. Only one student I know of is welcome to go in, a Sophmore called Fey. She’s some sort of reincarnated faerie queen.”

Gráinne’s eyes widened. “For real?”

"Yeah, she’s the real deal,” Envy confirmed. “If she survives, she’ll be a contender in mage circles. You’re wizarding one, you’ll see her around magic classes.”

Gráinne suddenly turned her head, like she was listening to someone else, then winced. “Envy, I dun know,” she said, her words slurring a little as her lip trembled, “can I trust this girl?”

"She’s got a rep as a cape,” Envy says, shrugging, “most will tell you that I’m untrustworthy.”

She closed her eyes, listening to a voice that Envy couldn’t hear. “My spirit wants to know which Queen it was?”
"Aunghadhail,” Envy answered, “Mom’s keeping an eye on her.”

After a moment, Gráinne giggled. “Um, she describes Aunghadhail as a pretty unpleasant person.” She smoothed out her skirt as she shivered, fidgeting. “She says to introduce her as Morgan, Raven of the Centre.”

"Must be nice having a friendly voice to guide you sometimes.”

"You could say that,” she replied with a slight smile. “She’s too weak to manifest yet. So where to next?”

"I think you’ve had enough exposure to the masculine element for one day. Let’s show you Poe and get you settled. Your bags should be in your room already. You’re lucky, people with our experience get to help the House Mother set the place up for students. Usually, there’s a bit of extra orientation for us.”

They walked down from the roof and headed south across the grounds. Passing fewer people on this side of campus, away from the mainstream dorms to the north, which was a welcome respite. “I don’t like being away from my family,” Gráinne commented in a mournful tone. Her green eyes glowed as she stayed close to her chaperon while also peering at Envy’s behind.

Envy felt Gráinne’s eyes on her but kept her smiling mask in place. She’d stolen enough glances of her own at female exemplars to understand the instinctive hormone-driven urge. “I understand that family is stability. I might have issues with my Mom but she’s protective. Still, we have a lot to learn about taking care of ourselves and Whateley is the best place for that.”

"I’m not here because of that,” she said quietly as she stared off into space. “I was almost arrested and expelled. Then I killed a Humanity First chapter lead.” Her words were strained as she shrank into herself, anxiety plain as she fidgeted.

Feeling the aura of guilt around her, Envy struggled to process the feeling. “Uh, I’m not very good at this but I’m sorry you had to do it,” she said mechanically, trying to recite what her therapist suggested as a correct response.

"They shot me twice,” she said, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt, her shoulders starting to shake. “I could have just scared them off but I was so mad. I nearly ripped off a car door and caved his skull in.”

"You really should talk to your therapist,” Envy said hesitantly, sighing. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the same reaction to these things as most people. It was a traumatic situation but you were protecting yourself. Of course, I wouldn’t bat an eye if you’d told me you’d killed a Nazi in cold blood, but I’m told that’s the part of me that’s a little broken talking.”

"You aren’t broken,” Gráinne said slowly, “it’s just trauma.” She rubbed her shoulder nonchalantly.

Envy gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you. Sorry, I try to be good but I’m not one of the ‘good guys’.” Looking for a change of subject, she breathed a sigh of relief when Poe came into sight at the end of the path. “So that heritage-looking building is Poe. Don’t be fooled, it’s perfectly modern where it counts.”

"Made some modifications yourself?” Gráinne quipped.

"Only to my room,” Envy answered earnestly, smirking.

As they crossed the threshold, Envy explained where to find the House Mother, showers, bathrooms and the general layout of the building. With the minutiae out of the way, Envy led her down the hall towards her room.

"I’m not really well versed in capes versus villains. I think it’s a stupid black and white system,” she grumbled.

"Historically, it makes sense. Before there were schools, mutants didn’t have a lot of choices. Some used their powers in the service of governments, whether out of a sense of civic duty or coercion. They got the good press and became capes. Heroic mythology sprang up around them and now they’re as many symbols as people. Other mutants had to do what they could to survive and built an anti-establishment philosophy and community around criminal activity. Capes think the Villains are preying upon humanity, Villains think the Capes betrayed their own ideals by ignoring mutant genocide. It’s more complicated, of course, but that’s the summary. It’s still dumb. Personally, I don’t agree with everything my mother does, or what most Villains do, their ideology smacks of doing things to people for their own good. Some Capes are genuinely good but many of them stink of hypocrisy.”

"Makes sense,” Gráinne sighed. “Where is your door located?”

"End of the hall, on the corner,” Envy points as they stop in front of Morgan’s door. “If you need help I’m just down there.”

"I’m sorry I’m such a goober,” she replied carefully as she rubbed the back of her head.

"You’re not,” Envy said, starting to reach out but then stopping herself. “You’re good.”
Gráinne blushed bright red as she wrung her hands together. She drifted a little closer, “I have, like, no self-esteem.”

"I think you’ll surprise yourself once you start therapy and combat training,” Envy says encouragingly, “you’ve been through a lot, and you’ve been isolated, but that ends today.”

"Okay,” she nodded, leaning against the wall before falling silent for a few moments. “Can I,” she began, pausing in hesitation, “talk to you in the future?”

Envy blinked, blushing. She was so damn cute. “I, uh, yes, of course, you can. Knock on my door anytime.”

"Really?” she exclaimed as her green eyes lit up, struggling to hide a smile.

"Of course, you, uh, seem nice and we’ve gotten along well so far and you’re quite, um, beautiful and…” Envy froze, realizing what she just said.

She’d been nodding along with Envy until she said she was beautiful. Large emerald eyes widened, as her mouth opened agape in shock.

“You think that? Really?”

"Ah! Y-yes? I do, I mean, you’re an exemplar so being hot is kinda our thing and I’ve always liked red hair and you’re cute and your eyes are pretty and I’m babbling! Shit! I’m sorry!” Envy blurted out, backing away nervously.

"No! No,” Gráinne waved her hand to try to get Envy to calm down. “Why are you freaking out? I’m a lesbian! I don’t mind the compliments at all.”

Envy froze in place, looking around to make sure the hall was empty as she bit her lower lip. “But we only just met and it sounds like I’m coming on to you.”

"Uh, hello? I’m a girl who has no idea who she is ‘sides the voice in my head,” she scolded, taking a slow sigh to calm herself. “Why are you worried about this?”

"M-my Mom…”

"Who’s your Mom?” she asked, a trill of panic returning to her voice.

Collapsing against the wall opposite Gráinne, Envy hugged herself. “The Strega. She’s a supervillain enchantress.”
Gráinne went still for a moment as she thumbed her chin. “Wait… Wasn’t she the lady who held Paris hostage a while back?”

"Yeah,” Envy sighed, looking away. “She tried to blackmail the French government into helping find me when I was kidnapped by mimes. Long story. But she uses mind control and sex to get what she wants and I-I don’t want to do that.”

"Um,” Gráinne said, trying to buy time to think of something. “I wish I were better at people ‘cause I’d know the right thing to say. Not come off as either terrified of your Mom or gush over you. Uh, so…” She scratched her head, stammering. “I just met you, so your Mom’s reputation doesn’t really tell me who you are. Just that your Mom is super protective and I shouldn’t make her mad if we’re gonna be friends.”

"There’s that, but I don’t want to…” Envy trailed off, trying to organize her racing thoughts into words. “It’s going to seem like I’m doing the same thing to you that Mom does to people. You’re vulnerable right now and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

"Morgan says you’re overthinking it and, while yes, I am actually weak to mental manipulation…” She paused, smacking herself in the forehead. “Please don’t pass that around.”

"We’ll get you some wards; I can help with that under faculty supervision,” Envy offered off-hand. “But I’m used to having to think about everything, to take every possibility into account, to be paranoid. Yeah, I’m in therapy for good reasons.”

"I just killed a guy,” Gráinne tried to say without melodrama, “I can’t throw stones.”

"Sorry, you don’t need to hear my problems,” Envy said, trying to smile.

"Um, you’re fine. I’m just trying to show you that there are no pain Olympics, life sucks equally,” she said, trying to sound sage-like.

"Yeah, I’m just… I don’t want to be my Mom, y’know? So I do think you’re beautiful but, um, goddess how to say this without sounding like a jerk…”

"Morgan says ‘outwit it ye sable-headed lass’,” Gráinne quoted, blushing.

"I would like to be friends,” Envy says very quickly, panic rising. “N-not that anything more isn’t possible later but I just don’t want to rush into anything and now it seems like I expected things to happen but it’s more that because of my mother’s reputation I need to state that, for the record, I’m not trying to get into your pants.”

"I… Uh…” Gráinne garbled as she tried to process the rapid-fire explanation. “I have no reaction to that.

Envy held her face in her hands. “I know, I’m being dumb. I’m so sorry,” she mumbled before backing away down the hall nervously. “I-I’ll get out of your way.”

With that, Envy fled down the hall, slipping into her room with barely the presence of mind not to slam the door.

Evening, November 10th, 2007 - Whitman Cottage
DuskWing
Sophia nervously pulled the tie knot free from around her neck. So far, even after having lunch with a few of her new Whitman mates, she'd been fortunate to avoid meeting her roommate. With the quiet of being uninterrupted on her side, she glided over to the luggage holding more of her clothing and proceeded to unpack it. The room itself was pretty standard dorm shape. Twenty feet by twelve feet, a small area down the middle about four feet wide or so for both occupants to stand side by side. She leaned against her faux maple desk. Her desk was already covered in bits of art she'd been working on over the last few weeks. Mostly traditional Salish art including one of her works of the Lummi Eagle. She was kind of proud of that picture, the pride that came with every artist’s desire to destroy and remake their art.

She glanced at her bed and walked over to it to flop down on her back. Her eyes were heavy at this point and all she could do was slowly drift off to sleep. Who cared if she had class the next morning! The young woman lazily picked up her phone from where she discarded it right by her pillow. As blue light flooded her face she set an alarm for a catnap and curled up to feel her mind lazily drifting away. It felt great to let the heaviness of exhaustion just take hold and let her body go numb from falling asleep. Thirty minutes of rest was what she needed.

A lone scape filled the vision in her mind's eye. Atop a tall Douglas Fir was a lone Raven, black eyes watched her as it tilted its head. The creature let out a loud caw as she walked toward the fir tree. She realized upon getting closer that she was wrong, or the tree itself morphed into a cedar. The evergreen smell permeated her nostrils as she stared straight up through branches. The Raven hopped from place to place down among the branches until it perched ten feet above her head.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Another tilt of the head and the Raven appeared almost amused by her question. Its beady black marble shaped eyes fixated on her for a moment. Lifting its head to the sky the Raven's caw burst forth, "PREPARE!"

"What?" she asked in response.

"PREPARE! PREPARE!" it cawed in response as it jumped from the branch and sailed above her in flight. She watched as the large black bird flew speedily over the horizon.

"NANI DES KA?" barked a voice suddenly and loud enough to shatter her dream. The loud guttural words caused her to sit up with a gasp. Brown eyes searched the room to find the source of the loud boisterous voice. A teenage girl dressed in the black blazer of the school with the Whitman tie hanging loosely around her neck. Blue-black hair cascaded down her head and framed her oval face. A pointed chin angled just below her tight pink lips gave her a steady scowl as she watched the newcomer on the bed. One of the strangest things about the girl was the steel needle hanging from between her lips. Her eyes were brown almost black with the right covered by a black banded eyepatch.

"What you lookin' at?" she retorted further in a gruff coarse voice.

"I don't know, the anime stereotype in front of me," the former cheerleader riposted.

"Ah fine," chirped the girl as she sat down on the bed. She crossed her legs from beneath her skirt and narrowed a singular eye.

"And you are?" Sophia said crossing her arms over her head.

"Tamahagane, Jeweled Steel in English," the girl replied before snarking, "And if I'm an Anime Stereotype then you're a total Himedere."

"I am not a fucking Princess!" she snapped. Brown eyes blazing with fury.

"I'm totally a Tsundere," the girl smiled as her almond-shaped eyes closed as she fell over giggling.

"Okay, I am going to assume you're Japanese since you seem to know this stuff better than most weaboo," Sophia sighed.

"Half-Japanese and Half-Korean on mom's side," the Tamahagane chuckled, "And you're First Nations."

"How do you know that?" Sophia inquired.

"First, few if any girls from the reserve ever lose that slight accent they got. Two, a few of my dad's contacts looked into you as they were pulling you into the office." She laid back and pounded her chest twice before withdrawing a long steel-colored practice sword from it. Shifting her arms Tamahagane wrapped her arms over the bodkin before sitting up lazily.

"How the hell would your father have contacts who can look at my name?" she asked.

"Syndicate," Tamahagane replied with a pout.

"Holy shit! Your dad's Steel Demon isn't he?" Sophia squawked.

"Yosh," she replied and gave a vigorous thumbs up.

"So what's your codename?" Tamahaganed asked.

"DuskWing and my real name is Sophia," Sophia nodded. "You're that kid who got kicked out of the top school in Vancouver right. Haruko Fujiwara?"

"Yeah, dad had to bribe a few school authorities to get me out of lockup," the Asian girl replied.

"Great, my roommate is one of the villain-spawn," Sophia threw her arms up in the air dramatically.

"So I'm a Bad Seed? What about it? Name's Haruko by the way," the more she talked; the more Sophia could pick out her low-brow accent.

"You really go whole hog with the Yakuza tough theme don't you?" Sophia asked. Haruko was busily unbuttoning her blazer to reveal a short sleaved v-necked white blouse beneath. That is most definitely not allowed in the uniform guide. What caught her attention though was she sheen of metal etched on the girl's skin. A silver lotus gleamed in the light of their dorm, and even more, designs scrolled their way down each arm she guessed from seeing the shortness of the sleeves. More metallic tattoos hinted at themselves along the girl's collar bone.

"Nice ink." Sophia leaned up against the wall against her bed and to stare directly at Haruko.

"It's my shell," the girl replied stiffly.

"You're a steel manifestor?" Sophia asked.

"So my steel senbon and pulling the bodkin out of my chest gave me away?" Haruko rolled her eyes.

"You aren't exactly subtle, just like a tsundere," Sophia smirked.

"Well." She let go of the bodkin and it remained solid as it lay just behind her head. Mirroring Sophia, Haruko slowly sat up and upon losing contact the steel bodkin disapparated.

"Well what?" she replied.

"Brass tacks then, I'm a Manifestor Four," Haruko rattled off the information.

"Wizard Three and Exemplar One," Sophia shook her head.

"Good, now that both of us are on an even keel," the Asian girl replied and cracked her knuckles nonchalantly. "We're both proud Rowdies, and we can maintain a little decorum."

"Rowdies?" Sophia asked quirking a brow.

"Something the Dickinson or Dicktwits came up for us a while back, and it stuck. Not a lot of girls use it, but I like being an underdog, it’s my schtick." Haruko crossed her arms and sat up while giving a sagely nod.

"Okay then," was all Sophia could say as she realized one thing. Fucking hell, I'm in a damn CW drama!