--Daycare--

T.Mor:

"The government..." I said, adding floor tiles to the hallway I was drawing.

Mr.Face:

"Me neither...They're wierd." I agreed.

Sarah

"Why are you talking about that?" I asked. "That stuff's boring!"


Nike

It seemed like we'd run out of things to say. I was also pretty much done constructing my tower.

"Um...you wanna go outside or something?" I suggested. Then I might be able to find the source of the power...

Cricket
I felt a little electric shock run through me at the word 'fire.' Or, I was pretty sure it had been fire. "Fire?"

T.Mor:

"I work for the government at home...That's what got this all started..." I explained.
Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.
Don't think about work. Don't think about home. Don't think about the fire. Don't think about the parents.
I hated my brain.

Mr.Face:

Outside. Oh dear. I don't like outside. "Uhm. Outside. It's kind of...There's no ceiling outside." I responded uneasily. "You know..." I pointed toward where my eyes should have been. This was the first hand movement I had made the whole conversation. I wasn't good with gestures. At all.

Tickety
"Aye, you should talk about interesting stuff like...music. That's fun." I continued to add feathers to the bluebird I was drawing. "You a'right, mate?"

Sarah

Yeah...this kid didn't look so good. But he worked for the government? That was interesting... Music was a fine topic too, though.


Nike

"Oh," I said. "I understand. That's a pity though... Someone out there is using powers, and I wanted to investigate."


Peter

"Y...yeah..." I mumbled, still keeping my eyes shut tightly. I balled my hands into fists, clenching the fabric of my shorts in a death grip.

T.Mor:

I was shaken out of my terrible thought process by... one of the new girls. "Erm. Yeah...I'm fine." I lied. "Music...uhm. Yeah." That was a good topic to switch to. Safe topic.

Mr.Face:

"I mean...I don't want to keep you here...It's just...kind of...scary. the sky. The sounds don't come back." I explained. "And what do you mean 'powers'?"

Nike

"I mean that somebody is using powers out there," I said. "I don't know what kind of powers, though. They could be fire, water, earth, wind, or light, but I wouldn't be able to tell until I saw them in use."

Cricket
Heat, flames...I caught myself with my hand touching the side of my neck, and forced it down again. " 'ey, snap out of it!" As much to him as to me.

Mr.Face:

I did not want to go outside. I hated outside. But...That sounded neat. I didn't understand what it meant exactly, but it sounded interesting. "Erm...I guess...possibly...We could go outside." I said somewhat nervously.

Peter

"Um..." I looked up at him again, but I didn't relax my hands. My knuckles were white.


Nike

"As long as you're sure," I said. "Is there anything I could do to help you when we're out there?"

Mr.Face:

"Talk. Talk a lot...I can see better when there's noise. And...Invisimort normally holds my hand...But...That's not compulsory...I understand that they are...quite cold. And...If you could provide numerical approximations regarding locations of things...That's really useful." I said. I had never actually shared that information with anyone before. Except Invisimort. This...This was odd.

Nike

"Okay," I said. "And it's fine if you hold my hand; I don't mind." I started getting up. "You said you can see better when there's noise... Do you use echolocation or something?"

Cricket
"You sure you're gonna be a'right?" I asked gently. Note to self. Don't let Finn ask strangers about personal things.

Peter

"...N-no," I answered honestly. And there was that sick feeling again... "I h-hate...hate my..."

Mr.Face:

"Yes. Echolocation." I unfolded myself from the floor. I was quite a bit taller than her. As I was with most people my age. "This is why it gets worse outside. There's not as many things to hear. Do not be alarmed if I start clicking." I added. "And...Thank you...about the whole...hand holding thing."

"By older I mean that you are the younger version of Leslie. I've met Leslie, who looks like she's sixteen but she's really five hundred something. See that boy over there?" asked Andrew, pointing to Ezra. "That's a younger version of a idoit I know. The older version of you is just as convinced as you are that I need protection from Aria and her friends or "cloudies"." said Andrew, crouching down to her level. "And I swear...I am not lying."

Leslie

"Are you...from the future or something?" I asked, tipping my head to the side. "And I don't know who Aria is, but cloudies are angels..."

That actually...kinda proved it. Sorta. "Cloudy" was a derogatory demon nickname for an angel. So he must've known demons...and, apparently, he knew me.


Nike

"That's fascinating," I said. "And no problem." I took his hand (which, as he'd said, was rather cold). "The door outside is this way."

Mr.Face:

"I know that. I'm not deaf..." I told her, grinning. "Actually...If the door wasn't made of different materials than the walls I wouldn't have noticed...So..." I corrected myself. I let myself be led to the door. The door had a slightly different acoustic quality to it than the walls, which allowed itself to be more easily identified. "What's it made of?" I asked Nike.

"I'm not from the future. More so the past." said Andrew, laughing softly. His blue eyes met Leslie's. "Do you believe me?" he asked her.

Leslie

"But...if you know an older me," I began, "then you'd have to be from the future! Because I'm younger in the past."


Nike

"It's made of metal and glass," I said, opening it with my free hand. "So you can even tell different materials with your echolocation? That's cool!"

Cricket
You know what'll cheer you up? A good subject change. That always makes me feel better. Even though I was horrible at casual conversation changes...or any conversation, for that matter. Especially conversations like this..."Oh bother. 'ard times come and go...believe me." So far they'd just seemed to come for me...perhaps bringing a few good times sprinkled on top. But maybe the old saying was right. Or maybe it was just a useless bit of words used as comfort in hard times.

Mr.Face:

"Yeah...They're acoustically different. Drywall is really irritating. Stone is wonderful...You can hear it for ever. Glass and metal are also kinda reflective of sound...so you can hear them really well." I explained. The door opened and I kind of...Stiffened. The sound of my own voice just kinda...went on indefinitely, and never came back. I could hear the room...and I could hear the void of outdoors. It was freaky. And huge.

Tickety
"Soooo...." I asked, adding clouds around the bird. "What do you like to sing?"

Peter

"Seems like the hard times just keep coming," I commented quietly.

I wondered what had happened to him. Seemed like he had a history, too. But had he ever...?