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This wasn’t a school. This was a palace.
Upon her arrival in New York, Alani Ryan had seen some big buildings. This was definitely one of them. She was going to live here, this school for mutants. Among people like her who had gone through all the things she had gone through, or worse, upon learning their skills. The prospect should frighten her, but instead it just made her bite her bottom lip in a show of nervousness and excitement. This was supposed to be a good thing. She would be safe, her family would no longer be shunned, and all would be well.
Alani hiked her surfboard higher up under her arm and began the trek inside of the mansion. Mother had asked her not to bring the thing, but she had refused to leave it. The chances of her using the instrument during her stay in New York were, sad to say, incredibly minimal to none. But the surf board reminded her of home and she was not about to abandon it. She also brought with her about a million seashells for her to wheedle her time out with, strings and wires, tinkers, and plenty of polished stones. Everything she would need in order to make jewelry or chimes or to just decorate her new room with. It was all in her backpack which was slung over her shoulders. She refused to mind the extra weight her activities were costing her. Surely she would not end up regretting it since she would need something to do around here.
Alani made her way easily through the crowd of people and tried not to stare. Some looked completely normal, as if they did not belong here at all. Others had scars. And some of the inhabitants here were a completely different color. She should feel a little more at home from seeing the spectacle, but she knew people were staring at the markings along her face and arms. They were probably wondering if she had been tattooed. As if she would choose a full body art of this caliber. No, if it were her choice she would have chosen something a lot more tasteful. The funny thing was that her markings were so new that it was easy for her to forget they were even there until she passed her reflection. Alani lowered her eyes and followed her predecessor. It would take some getting used to. But then, all of this would. Her simple, free wheeling life in Hawaii was forever gone. This mutation would become who she was. How wouldn’t it?
Alani noticed some of the stares were going to her surfboard. Well, so be it. As long as they weren’t looking at her. Sure it was odd to see such an instrument on this end of the country but it couldn’t be the first one they’ve seen. This was the token of her play back home, her very first toy. She hiked it up higher when she felt like she was being judged and decided that staring at her predecessor’s back was most likely the best way to go. It was inevitable that she would meet all of these students later. Or at least some of them.
Following Ms. Moonstar, she picked up her steps quickly and kept her gaze straight ahead. There was a lot of unpacking to do. Then she would focus on all of this later.
Upon her arrival in New York, Alani Ryan had seen some big buildings. This was definitely one of them. She was going to live here, this school for mutants. Among people like her who had gone through all the things she had gone through, or worse, upon learning their skills. The prospect should frighten her, but instead it just made her bite her bottom lip in a show of nervousness and excitement. This was supposed to be a good thing. She would be safe, her family would no longer be shunned, and all would be well.
Alani hiked her surfboard higher up under her arm and began the trek inside of the mansion. Mother had asked her not to bring the thing, but she had refused to leave it. The chances of her using the instrument during her stay in New York were, sad to say, incredibly minimal to none. But the surf board reminded her of home and she was not about to abandon it. She also brought with her about a million seashells for her to wheedle her time out with, strings and wires, tinkers, and plenty of polished stones. Everything she would need in order to make jewelry or chimes or to just decorate her new room with. It was all in her backpack which was slung over her shoulders. She refused to mind the extra weight her activities were costing her. Surely she would not end up regretting it since she would need something to do around here.
Alani made her way easily through the crowd of people and tried not to stare. Some looked completely normal, as if they did not belong here at all. Others had scars. And some of the inhabitants here were a completely different color. She should feel a little more at home from seeing the spectacle, but she knew people were staring at the markings along her face and arms. They were probably wondering if she had been tattooed. As if she would choose a full body art of this caliber. No, if it were her choice she would have chosen something a lot more tasteful. The funny thing was that her markings were so new that it was easy for her to forget they were even there until she passed her reflection. Alani lowered her eyes and followed her predecessor. It would take some getting used to. But then, all of this would. Her simple, free wheeling life in Hawaii was forever gone. This mutation would become who she was. How wouldn’t it?
Alani noticed some of the stares were going to her surfboard. Well, so be it. As long as they weren’t looking at her. Sure it was odd to see such an instrument on this end of the country but it couldn’t be the first one they’ve seen. This was the token of her play back home, her very first toy. She hiked it up higher when she felt like she was being judged and decided that staring at her predecessor’s back was most likely the best way to go. It was inevitable that she would meet all of these students later. Or at least some of them.
Following Ms. Moonstar, she picked up her steps quickly and kept her gaze straight ahead. There was a lot of unpacking to do. Then she would focus on all of this later.