Owner	Pose
Dead Girl	It has only been a day. A day since she was discovered inside a Los Angeles mausoleum; a day since the voices and visions stopped haunting her; a full day that she was able to concentrate. The people who brought her to the mansion were nice enough to give Moonbeam her own quarters. She was able to shower and clean up, but she knew things were different. She felt different. She looked different. Moonbeam didn't like different, she wanted to go back to being herself. Looking at herself in the mirror, Moonbeam knows that she wouldn't be able to go back to her normal life. If she could cry, she would have, but her body wouldn't allow her to. Her body didn't do a lot of things that it used to. The paleness to her skin, for example, was one of those things. Her eyes, the dark spots around them, her hair -- what had she become? A monster, that's what she became. Striking the mirror, glass pierces her hand and it crumbles on the countertop. She feels no pain; there is no blood, just the action scarring her memory. Pulling a thick piece of glass from the palm of her hand, Moonbeam watches as her body heals itself before her eyes. In seconds, it is as if nothing happened, leaving only the glass in front of her. Shocked by this, she decides to leave her room, covering herself in a hoodie and sweat pants that were laying out for her. She didn't put on socks or shoes, Moonbeam just left the room and heads downstairs. Walking cautiously down the stairs and through the hallways, Moonbeam makes her way to the Rec Room. With no one inside, she enters and immediately turns on the television. News feeds of an Asguardian ship is the current focus, even on other channels that she flips to. Moonbeam sits on the couch and continues to flip the channels, almost expectantly, hoping to find something out about her disappearance. Alas, nothing.
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir comes wandering in. Dark curly hair with low bangs halfway over her eyes, brown flannel shirt left open, red band T-shirt (Paramore), black pants, black Converse and neon laces. And of course, black leather gloves. She slips in and goes in search of beverage refreshment, acquiring some diet soda, fruit, and crackers; then she glances around the room for new developments. She waves at the only other person in the room. "Hey. I don't think I have met you yet." She wanders over that way and hrms. "Are you doing okay?"
Dead Girl	The newcomer's wave and greeting are met with more caution. Moonbeam tenses slightly, pulling the hood further over her face, and she turns slightly in her position on the couch. She doesn't want Erika to see her hideous face. "I- I'm fine!" Moonbeam replies hastily. "I- I'm new here. Where are we?" she asks, looking forward and upward towards the television in front of them.
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir hmmm, how to answer that. "We're in a school for mutants, so we don't accidentally kill people or anything Including ourselves. It's kind of hush hush." She flops into a seat and pops the top on the soda, needing a keychain widget because no fingernails on gloves. "I'm Erika, and I am a psychometrist. You don't have to hide your face. There's people here who look all sorts of weirdness. It's kind of cool."
Dead Girl	A school for mutants? Is that what she has become? "Impossible," Moonbeam fires back. "Mutation triggers at adolescence. There's no way that I could be one of those /freaks/. I'm too old." Her voice is cold on the outside, but on the inside it holds a fear that she does not allow to escape. She continues to watch the news segment, flipping to three other channels before her red eyes peak to the side of the hoodie, taking in Erika's form. "Cool?" Moonbeam repeats, "Looking weird isn't my definition of cool."
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir raises an eyebrow. "I didn't get anything until a bunch of rapists were chasing me through an alley while I was carrying a roofied friend. Sometimes it takes a lot of stress too. And seriously, can we skip the F word? I'm normal, I'm just not a stable." She looks at the TV. "If you've got it, you've kinda gotta rock it. What are you looking for? The TV only covers the huge stuff and the silly stuff."
Dead Girl	Moonbeam scoffs, shaking her head. She finally turns towards Erika and gives her once-over. "You're like twelve," she says, turning back towards the television. "If you are a part of this school, you are far from normal." She tenses again when asked what she is looking for. The honest answer is that Moonbeam doesn't know, but she replies, "I'm looking for my life!"
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir sighs. "I'm fifteen, it's not my fault the girls are underachievers. Josh is in college and he found out like, not long before I did? And turned gold. It's a thing. And like.. seriously. I'm really ordinary. I go to school. I fight with my mom and dad. I listen to music. What kind of music do you like? I'm kind of good at math. I go dancing sometimes." She sighs at your outburst. "Okay, well, the TV sucks for that. Did you try Google? Because like, most of the stories about stuff like that are just in some feed somewhere." Slightly bristling at the ironic insults.
Dead Girl	Moonbeam rolls her eyes at the correction, not that the student could see the act because of the school branded hoodie she is wearing. As Erika gave her spiel of her life and the life of another student, Moonbeam continues to flip through the channels. She stops once the student gives the suggestion to use Google. "Of course," she whispers to herself, looking around the room to find a computer. Standing to her full height, Moonbeam walks barefoot to the desktop and presses a few keys to activate the machine. A log in screen appears. "Hey, little girl-- Erika. I need your help," Moonbeam says, motioning for Erika to come to the desk where she is standing. "It is asking for a username and password to log on."
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir rolls her eyes so hard. "Didn't you get one? Do 'guest guest' and log in with a webcam picture." She gulps some soda and rises, taking her sweet time because she's a bit annoyed at this sort of treatment. "God. Do you need me to fetch your walker while I'm at it? Seriously, I get that you're having a bad day, but you don't have to be a total bitch about it." She wanders over to see if you are going to get confused about how the mouse works next or something.
Dead Girl	While Erika vents, Moonbeam's expression is cold and blank. "I prefer not take any /webcam pictures/ looking like this," she replies. "Will you help me or not? I just need to get to a browser and don't have time to sign up for a free mutant school account, okay?"
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir fumes. "Whatever." and logs in on a guest account with her own picture, holding up a gloved hand and pointing off the side at you. She pushes the keyboard at you. "Here, go look yourself up. Jeezus." She stands back and gulps some soda. "So who ARE you, anyways?"
Dead Girl	Moonbeam wastes little time retrieving the keyboard, opening an internet browser with the mouse, and going to a notable website regarding celebrities. She enters her name in the search bar and several articles appear. "Missing...Possibly dead...New season cancelled because of missing star..." For a moment, Moonbeam stands in front of the computer in silence. Normally, her tear ducts would have swollen up and she would cried, but she is no longer normal. This realization causes her to return to the couch and slump over. The website is still open for Erika to click through.
Tyler Grant	Bored with studying, Tyler needs to find himself some relief. The rec room calls. Finding his way there the young mutant wanders inside and takes a look around to see what might be happening. When he spots Erika with a new face he heads in that direction, lifting a hand to wave at them, "Hey guys." As he gets closer he notes the distress on the new girl's face and frowns, "You need me to leave you guys alone?" Almost immediately after saying that he starts to back off to find something else to occupy him. He heads for the bar to grab himself a soda and a snack, putzing around there for a while longer than might be strictly necessary.
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir looks over the stuff on the screen a bit. "Huh. Okay, that blows. A lot. Maybe Andrea will have some ideas. She knows all kinds of stuff like that. Do you need a hug? Because like, you really look like a mess. Hey Ty! New chick over there. She's having a crazy bad day."
Dead Girl	Moonbeam moans audibly as she lays on the couch. She places a pillow over her face in a horrible attempt to suffocate herself. Not that doing so would be effective, considering she is already dead. No food, no water, no air... and apparently no life to return to. "Just kill me! Please, if there is a God, kill me now!"
Tyler Grant	Carrying his stuff back over towards the other two, Tyler stops dead in his tracks when the new girl covers her face with a pillow and wishes for death into it. He looks wide eyed at Erika. Then he moves to a seat opposite the couch and sits down, setting his stuff on the table. Frowning deeply he watches the woman on the couch, then eventually asks rather lamely, "Is there anything we can do to help you?"
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir sighs and wanders over. She shrugs helplessly. "I totally don't know the story here, but like, she's apparently supposed to be dead, and she looks totally different than her other pictures. And.. um.." She decides not to go into detail about how much of an insert_unflattering_derogatory_term_here she's being. Wouldn't really help. "Well, she's kind of a mess.
Dead Girl	Lifting the pillow just enough to where her red eyes can see Tyler, she replies, "One hundred thousand dollars an episode would be nice. Do you have that laying around, kid?" She places the pillow back over her face still trying to cry. But, nothing. And then, she got an idea, leaning up against the couch. "You know what you could do?" she asks, a devilish grin forming. "Break my neck. Put me out of my misery, PLEASE! I can't live like this any longer." "Little girl, you think I'm a bitch. Do it. Dooo iitttt!"
Tyler Grant	Nodding to Erika, Tyler says, "If I was supposed to be dead I'd probably be pretty upset, too." Then he looks back at the crying chick, shaking his head slowly at her. "I'm not going to hurt you. I don't really know what you're going through, but killing yourself isn't going to help you." He leans forward in his seat, forgetting completely about his snacks. "I'm sorry you have to go through this stuff, though."
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir throws her hands up in exasperation. "You already called me a 'little girl' and a 'freak'. Don't you have some other stuff to call me? You haven't even tried 'mutie scum' yet. Besides, I already saw somebody get killed this week. She got better. I've already totally met my quota." She sighs. "I'm sorry, she hasn't gone off on you yet."
Dead Girl	Moonbeam rolls her eyes /hard/ when neither student is able to follow through with her request. She couldn't blame them, they were just kids, and asking them to kill her - not even knowing her, she realizes - is a bit much on the drama radar. She settles into the couch, lifting her legs Indian style. "It's not your fault, kid," Moonbeam says to Tyler. "That's show business." "You work hard all your life for a dream you've wanted more than anything, finally get there, and someone murders you." She finally removes the hood, revealing black hair, red eyes with dark circles around her eyelids, and pale skin. "And then wake up looking like this. A second chance, but as a monster."
Tyler Grant	"If she goes off on me, she goes off on me," Tyler tells his friend with a shrug. "Worst that happens is I get upset and have to leave." Then Moonbeam is acting a lot calmer and Tyler seems to visibly relax. He watches as she unveils herself and finds himself staring a little bit at her appearance. The young man takes a deep breath and a moment to think, "You were murdered? Have you thought about going to the police?" He continues to watch her, "And don't call yourself a monster. The worst monsters I've ever met don't look any different from the people on the street."
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir looks. "...Well, you look like you need some sleep I guess.." Being a girl with near-black hair and pale skin herself. She sighs. "I'm sorry you're having such a shitty time." She looks over at Tyler, "Did they put something in the water in LA or something? First Andrea and, you know, and now this. I don't know if I can deal with much more dramatic show business types. Can't we get, like, some more normal people?"
Dead Girl	"And tell them what? 'Hi. I was murdered by my co-star who I was banging, was dumped in a cemetery, and now I'm back like Jesus. Who do I speak with?'" "There's nothing I can do," Moonbeam admits, slumping just slightly and turning to Erika. "The thing is, I don't think I can sleep - or maybe I don't need it? I don't know. I've been up for days now and haven't had the urge to sleep, eat, or drink anything. And I'm still hyped up. It is weird." Moonbeam pauses for a second, adding, "What's even weirder... I held my breath for an hour last night." She is not one to give up so easily, but she doesn't have a clue what to do. "I don't even know where we are. Are we still in California? I just remember passing out after getting in some fancy plane with some other weird kids."
Tyler Grant	Finally remembering his drink, Tyler has a sip as he looks at Erika, "You might be right. There's a lot of drama here, more than at my old school, that's for sure." His attention swings back over to the older girl and he shrugs, "I guess you're right. It's not like the cops are going to know how to handle that one. If you want I can try to get a detective to speak with you, though. My brother knows a few, he's a dispatcher for them." Then he shakes his head, "No. You're not in California any more. We're in New York state."
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir uhhhhms.... "... Yes? I mean, he tried to kill you. He thought he did. That's still illegal as hell. You're not off the hook for stabbing people if the hospital saves them type thing. Oh, and you're in New York now. That's where the school and all is."
Dead Girl	"New York?!" Moonbeam replies, her voice echoing through the room. She wonders to herself if she slept that long on the plane ride. Popping out of her thoughts quickly, she continues, "I can't be in New York! I have puppies and plants and-- I need to get out of here and go home." But with no money, no identification, and looking like a Walking Dead cosplayer, there are no choices. "Take me to your leader," Moonbeam says, sitting up straight. "Or, point me in the direction of your leader so we can have a chat."
Tyler Grant	"You'll get a chance to speak with the professor or one of the other other senior faculty soon, I'm sure," Tyler says to the woman. "We'll make sure your pets and your plants are taken care of." He quickly finishes off his drink and says, "I can go try to find someone for you if you want me to. See who is around." The snack he grabbed comes with him as he starts off towards the door, "Just sit tight."
Erika Kristasdottir	Erika Kristasdottir umms, "I'm sure you are on their schedule. Unless you trip over them in the hall, but that almost never happens. I don't know, I mean, messed up stuff happens here all the time. It's got to be hard keeping up."
Dead Girl	"I'm not good at sitting tight, unfortunately," Moonbeam says, tossing the pillow on the other side of the couch. Her legs free themselves from the Indian style position she sits in, touching the wooden flooring as she rises to her feet. "Thanks for the pep talks, kids. I think I need to do a little exploring." As Tyler heads out of the door, Moonbeam follows suit. Before she leaves the Rec Room, though, she turns around to face Erika. "Sorry for being a bitch, Erika. My life has been turned upside down over night, and I'm pissed and don't know what to do." This is her version of an apology. "See you around, little girl." Moonbeam smiles a bit and then heads out into the hallway.