Being cute, and young, and blond, and a former cheerleader, meant that Claire had certain assumptions made about her on a daily basis. One of those was that she was completely and utterly shallow. And maybe, once upon a time, Claire had been shallow. However that had all begun to change when her ability had manifested and now, even at the tender age of eighteen, she had far more of an understanding than those three times her age that looks were the least important thing when it came to people. So while her heart skipped a beat at the scarring and stitches, her first thought wasn't to scream, or flee, but rather concern that this man was injured in some way.
He didn't sound injured, though, so she didn't press the issue. Instead she simply took the offered PDA with a smile and nod, flipping through the menu options with the ease of most teenagers of her generation. "You're in room 205B," she stated after a second. "It doesn't look like you have a roommate yet, so you'll get a pick of whichever room you want in the apartment."
Then she glanced back down at the PDA, back to him, and promptly sat down beside him on the stairs. "There's a message board that you can use to contact other people who were brought here. You just go here," she showed him how to access the board with the pressing of a few buttons, "and then when you want to post a new message, post it like this." Showing him a quick example, Claire made sure to include how to capitalize letters, as well as delete anything he might change his mind on writing.
Once she'd finished (and made sure to take the time to delete the 'sample message' she'd typed up) she next showed him how to reply to other messages, as well as filter ones to other individuals. "That's the basics," she stated when she'd finished, handing him back his PDA. "And, um, do you mind if I ask why you don't have a name?"