Full Moon Sways {open}

[Stella Pinyin]

Plane trips were not Stella’s specialty. The crowds were bad enough, but people looked so shamelessly at the Chinese girl with white hair. She had just thanked the spirits of her parents quickly that it was still light outside as she had slipped on a pair of oversized dark sunglasses and a brimmed hat and slid into the waiting car.

Her living arrangements had still to be finalized. While her uncle had been more than ready to rent out a house for her, there was the question of getting to and from school. Stella stood out. There was a reason albinos in other species of animals never lasted long in the wild; they were easy to spot, easy to track… A dorm might be safer. Stella meant to ask one of the office administrators about it.

But first she had to find where to go. The girl sat neatly, her feet tucked under the chair she perched on, her bags sitting with her. It was getting dark out, and Stella nervously twisted her pendent as violet eyes flicked this way and that. She could make out the basic setout of the room, dark colours and shapes, but she was relying more on her ears.

Footsteps, voices, something….

White teeth chewed her bottom lip as Stella hummed softly to herself, flicking white hair out of her face as the sun slipped over the horizon.

[Stephen Gage]

Stephen Gage's hands clapped and rubbed themselves together as he came in from the slight autumn chill, the slightest bit of cold enough to make him wait with an aching heart for spring. Only October and he was already acting like this. February would not be fun, that much was certain. However, the nip of the day was not the foremost thing on his mind, an impressive feat to be sure, for today was one day of many in which Mr. Gage would get to do what he did best: talk. Or, more accurately, guide. A recruiter, Stephen Gage took care of students just before they arrived at Hammel and shortly after their integration into the school at large. Most things are that fell to the counselors, but the recruiter himself was certainly not averse to offering any of his recruits a helping hand or a listening ear.

It was a grey day. Not in the weather, nor the mood, but in the style Stephen had chosen. Working in a professional capacity, however casually he spoke and act, Stephen was required to at the very least appear proper. And so he'd donned a suit, thankful for the extra layers as autumn's wind nipped gently at his flesh. A grey blazer rested above the black shirt he wore on his chest, the top button of it unclasped to allow him the privilege of breathing. Similarly grey pants covered his legs and the soles of his dark shoes thumped softly along the floor as he walked. Sunset was coming, and if he was to show a recruit around the school, he'd certainly have to fetch his coat from the staff lounge at some point.

But that would come at one point or another, and that point was most certainly not now. The main office was just ahead and within it, a girl who was far from her family and from familiarity. Stephen was no stranger to such a state, having attended Hammel while the rest of his own family remained in Scotland. It was his duty to offer her a tour, though he'd do what he could to make sure she felt as at home as he did.

Stephen had almost forgotten how white she was. The man had seen stranger things in his time, to be sure, such as a boy who had tentacles for ears, but her almost ghostlike form was at the very least noteworthy. His face betrayed none of this as he drew nearer to her, the whispered words of a song escaping his lips as his hand gripped the knob of the door to the office. One chipper swing, and Stephen Gage entered the room with all the warmth the sun was attempting to take from the world. Beaming, as he was wont to do, Stephen extended a welcoming hand to the girl. She certainly looked like she could use it. "Ms. Pinyin! Stephen Gage, always a pleasure. Sorry for the late hour, but I'll try to make it up to you, hmm?"

[Stella Pinyin]

Thud thud thud

creeeeaak

Footsteps and the ghost of a song alerted Stella to Mr Gage’s approach much sooner then her eyes could make him out. Still, she had to lean slightly closer to see exactly where his hand was. Her hand was cool and dry, and dwarfed utterly by the man’s larger, warmer hand.

She grasped it lightly, alabaster on tan, before dropping it quickly.
Rudeness? Oh no. But contact was not something Stella consciously or unconsciously encouraged. A throwback, perhaps, to the childhood belief she had held that her whiteness may be contagious, and a touch from her would strip anyone of their colors. Still, her lips tugged up in a small smile, attempting to mimic the grin she could see on his face.

"Ms. Pinyin! Stephen Gage, always a pleasure. Sorry for the late hour, but I'll try to make it up to you, hmm?”

“Good evening, Mr Gage,” Stella replied, her eyes skiting over his face, violet irises and dark pink pupils straining to make his features clearer. Only a trace of the Orient remained in her voice, thanks to her uncle’s tutorage. This man’s voice was warm, and very friendly. Her smile widened. “It’s no matter. I’m,” a pause, uncertainty flicking over her face briefly, “I’m glad to be here.”

Slowly, one hand firmly on the arm rest, Stella rose to her feet. Her free hand grasped her faithful white cane; it was a new area, a new space, and would require mapping out before she would feel comfortable leaving her metal aid behind.

“I’m still not sure what my living arrangements are, I apologies to say,” she said, a slight slip in her usually excellent English. “Is there somewhere I could put my bags, please?” Unbidden, a small, white, furry head poked up from the satchel bag slung over Stella’s shoulder, a second pair of violet eyes fixing on Stephen as the cat meowed pitifully. Stella blushed; she had not wanted to mention the cat until she was settled. “And, ah, this is Celeste. She is bad mannered, not waiting for her introduction,” she scolded, though her hand found comfort in the cat’s white fur.

[Stephen Gage]

Had he not seen her hand touch his own, Stephen would have failed to notice she'd made contact with him at all. Stella's touch was faint, hardly anything more substantial than a breath of air. Come quickly, quietly, and gone just fast. She was a small thing, this Ms. Pinyin, rather akin to a leaf that had dried and crumpled in the sun. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stephen was curious as to whether she'd make sound when she moved, or if she made sound at all. If her voice was anything like her touch, he'd have to strain to hear it indeed. But for all her apparent frailty, Stella smiled. Small, controlled, but present. And a smile was always welcomed in Stephen's world.

Ah, so she did speak. Perhaps a shade more loudly than he'd thought, but still soft in its timbres. Stella stuck with the formal titles which, judging by her tone of voice, posture, and meek expression, had likely been taught to her from a young age. Possessing an ability that gives one control over the bodies of others requires one to form a working knowledge of body language. And Stephen's observations were telling him that this young lady was a shy one indeed. She offered her own greetings in return, marred by a hesitation in her speech. It was hardly surprising. A girl such as her in a new place was bound to feel some reservations about the situation. It was Stephen's job, and pleasure, to dispel those negative feelings. A happy student at Hammel was a well-adjusted meta later in life. He kept his tone reassuring, softening the tone ever so slightly in response to her own muted words. "We're certainly happy to have you. And please, you can call me Stephen. Save the 'Misters' and "Misses' for your teachers."

Stephen took half a step backwards, allowing her space to rise from her seated position. The cane now grasped in her hand had escaped his vision earlier. She wasn't blind, at least not entirely. She had, after all, found his hand. However, white hair, white skin, violet-red eyes... light was most likely not this girl's best friend. Albinism, from the looks of it, not merely a choice of fashion.

Stephen's eyebrows rose slightly as she explained the situations, his hands clasped patiently in front of him. A flaw in her speech, miniscule, but noticeable. English was possibly not her first language, though she seemed fluent enough in it. He waved off her concerns, smiling warmly. "Aye, it's no bother. We'll find you a place to stay; have no worries. As for the bags, I imagine I could carry a few. Certainly don't want you spending your first night here without your things, do we?" Stephen looked down at her bags briefly, and looked up to be met by a feline head with eyes that matched Stella's own. He jumped slightly at the sudden sight, his surprise quickly overcome by the automatic adoration of small, cute things that was a part of him. It was a cat, and cats remained far from his favorite animal. But it had yet to scratch him, and thus was acceptable in his eyes. Celeste, apparently. A pretty name. "That's a lovely wee name she's got. Must be a curious little thing."

Stephen's eyes strayed from the girl and her cat to the desk at which the secretary sat during the day. The computer on it would have access to the files of all students if the user had the proper credentials. And Stephen, as a recruiter, was certainly quite capable of viewing student records. "Give me just a moment to find out where we're meant to put you, yeah?"

He tossed her another smile and a nod, and stepped past her, lowering himself into the seat and punching in his username and password. As the settings loaded, Stephen rested his elbows on the desk, casting a gentle gaze upon her. "So how was the flight? Are you tired much?"

[Stella Pinyin]

It was no revelation that Stella Pinyin was introverted. What may have been surprising was that it was not all due to shyness. Oh, the girl was shy, as Stephen had no doubt picked up. The combination of her eye catching appearance and the stories her uncle had told her about what could happen to her if she was taken in by the government had resulted in a hearty dislike for attention being paid to her. But the ridged formality, from the ruler straight set of her spine to the slight curve of her neck to acknowledge higher rank, could be attributed to the etiquette training her uncle had insisted on, when it became apparent Yǒufú de rén, the meta school in China, was beginning to attempt to locate Stella. A military school would have strict discipline, after all, and respect to your elders was of the highest importance.

With this in mind, it was understandable that Stella was confused by an encouragement of informality. Her head tilted quizzically to the left as she nodded slowly. Stephen then. ”So, you are not a teacher?” Stella paused, then tried out the name, ”Stephen?. It was true, the kind and jovial tones in Stephen’s voice, as well as the smile she could still perceive on his face were not what Stella had imagined when she had thought of the teachers she would meet. Though, her opinion was perhaps a little off; she’d never had anyone teach her but her uncle after all!

On her feet, Stella could not miss the slight tilt of Stephen’s head towards her cane. That, combined with her current, homeless dilemma... Would they think her unorganized? Rude? It was not Stephen’s fault the girl was so awkward. Far from it! Even Stella’s eyes could see he was kind, and trying to help. She blushed again, ”It’s just about getting to the school, you see. My uncle’s worried, I stand out and I won’t need it all the time,” she tapped the round rubber ball a the end of the cane against the ground to show just what she would not need all the time, ”it’s just... A new place, it’s easier you see...” her voice trailed off as she struggled to get a hold of her thoughts. This display was unsightly! ”It would perhaps be easier if I stayed on campus,” she managed to say finally.


It was a blessing then when Celeste broke the girl’s attempts at compossure. If anything could convince Stella to let her guard down, it was a fellow person appreciating her cat. A true smile broke across her face, showing a glimmer of front teeth. ”It means celestial, or heavenly,” Stella explained, her free hand still scratching her companion’s ears. A flicker of doubt crossed her face. ”We are allowed pets here, are we not?” Her voice was quaintly earnest, a break from her formal tone, violet eyes wide.

Remaining on her feet as Stephen moved back behind a desk, Stella shook her head at his inquiry. ”No, not tired. I had a day flight, so I could just listen to music and start looking at my text books,” Stella replied. Her uncle had had to have her books specially ordered, the pages and font several times larger then normal so Stella could read them. The girl frowned slightly at the remembered issues at the airport. ”If you don’t mind my asking,” the girl begun, hoping Stephen would not take offence to her curiousness, ”Have you worked here long? You do not teach, so your position is something else?”

[Stephen Gage]

For all his worry and care for where this young woman was going, both in her life and in the next twenty minutes, Stephen found himself quite curious as to where she'd been. More precisely, where she'd come from. She spoke formally, very decisively so, with largely perfect English that suggested it had been taught to her. She had distinctly Asian features, though what her actual place of birth was remained beyond Stephen's ability to discern. With luck, her file would let him know. If not, he might have to squeeze it out of her somehow. Maybe play the authority card? No, that'd be almost like forcing her, and if there was one thing Stephen loathed to do, it was force anyone to do anything.

Her question came as a bit of a surprise, and it took Stephen just a small moment to comprehend it. Surely she knew he was a recruiter? Or perhaps not? The at-times labrynthine workings of Hammel could be lost sometimes upon those new to the Institute, a fact Stephen sometimes forgot. He smiled again, diverting his eyes from the computer screen. "I've been at Hammel since I was a student. Came here when I was 14 and I'm, well, old enough now." He said those last few words with a quiet chuckle, jabbing the "Enter" key with his finger as the computer prompted. "I'm a recruiter. We find people like yourself, and give them a home. Or, a second home, if you'd rather that."

The desktop's background, a professional photograph of one of the Institute's buildings, came onto the screen, and Stephen clicked his way through a few directories before he arrived at the student records. "Won't take a moment. And I'm sure we have you staying on campus. If not, well, we'll see what we can do."

He typed away, clicking and searching for one Miss Stella Pinyin. He knew her name, but that was largely where his knowledge of the girl ended. He hummed slightly to himself as he did so, resting his chin in one hand. Computers were not his specialty. He knew the process to find students in the system, but little trickery beyond that. Fortunately, her file was one of the few in the temporary "New Arrivals." A few flicks, and her records appeared on the screen. The official last name was different, but the description seemed spot on. "Ah, here we are. Let's see... Room 206. You've a roommate: Ms. Essence Slade."

He looked to Stella and smiled again, darting his eyes back to the monitor as he closed the windows and turned it off. He rose, pushed in the chair, and walked back towards her. "We'll get you a key tomorrow, when the office is open properly. For now, you may have to just prop your door open if you leave your room." Stephen bowed his head slightly in apology, a lightly sheepish grin on his face. "Do you want help with your bags? I can answer any questions you have on the way if you'd like."

[Stella Pinyin]

A second home; the concept was nice. A chance to interact with people her own age, and to learn what exactly she had missed in so far as how social interactions worked with people her own age. That would be nice… And a roommate! Stella’s eyes lit up, even as they struggled to see much through the brightness of the room’s lighting. ”Ah, is that far from here?” she asked, looking around at a loss. She’d need some help getting the layout of this place. And a map. With very big print.

Stella looked at her bags somewhat helplessly and nodded; her hands were somewhat occupied with a cat and a cane, her two most trusted companions. That said something about how isolated the paper pale girl had been. “Yes, please. I’m very sorry, I should have thought to hire a trolley, or something.” she apologized, looking with guilt eyes at the tree suitcases stacked next to the couch she’d been sitting on. Her uncle had insisted on her packing almost her entire wardrobe. It had been horrible at the airport.

”Ah, could I ask about the curriculum?” Stella ventured, starting to tap out a path from the main building. “My uncle took care of the enrollment, but he said something about drama classes. Do they do drama here?” Stella had a soft spot the size of Australia for the Bard and other plays, and she’d love to study them. Because that would be what drama entailed, right? Right?

[Stephen Gage]

The brightness in the waif's eyes was unexpected, to be sure. Meek and demure as she was, Stephen was running a bit of a bet with himself as to whether the girl could display any fashion of excitement. It was a small fire that flared into life behind her irises, but it was there, and it informed Stephen that he was doing perhaps a bit better a job than he had initially believed. As in tune with body language as he thought himself to be, Stephen did tend to run into some difficulty when dealing with people who were quiet by their very nature, as anyone would. And in a world when a fair amount of people could be considered less exuberant than Stephen himself, such troubles arose fairly often. But Ms. Pinyin, or Stella as she may preferred to be called, sounded excited at the prospect of a roommate. Stephen maintained his smile, hardly, a difficult task or a dishonest one. "No, not that far at all, really. Far enough to give me a good shot at showing you around, close enough to give me a fair break from the cold." he said with a laugh, grinning meekly afterwards. "I'm not all that fond of cold weather. Sun's going down, so it's not getting any warmer."

The girl started to apologize almost immediately after Stephen had offered to help her with her bags. The recruiter waved off her concerns, moving past her slightly to get a good grip on the first suitcase. "It's hardly a bother. You've got your hands full as it is, and I've got years of practice with this sort of thing." She seemed so sorrowful at the state of her luggage, unduly so, as Stephen had laid his eyes upon far worse situations in his time. Then again, as he moved the first suitcase, it revealed itself to be more than a shade heavier than he'd originally thought. Manageable, to be sure, but certainly not lighter than a feather. He grunted at first, then chuckled. "Had a student literally pack his full of rocks once. Now that was something."

Stephen stood the suitcase on its end, pulling out the handle and stacking a lighter one atop it. He mused aloud to himself as he did so, a habit he'd picked up ages ago. "Never did figure out why there were rocks. That wasn't his power. He was a fortune-teller." Stephen's brow furrowed as he gave the matter some thought, then cast it away again. He shook his head, smiling again. "But that's neither here nor there. Drama? Oh, of course. Wonderful drama program we have."

Stephen gripped the handles available, the third suitcase wonderfully light on its wheels compared to the combined weight of the first two. Ms. Pinyin had begun her excursion into Hammel, and Stephen kept a respectable pace behind her. The wheels gave out a hollow droning noise as they rolled across the wooden floors. A gym membership must have been one of Mr. Gage's better ideas, for the suitcases were hardly a problem and he could divert more of his attention to Stella's concerns. "Darryl Bond is the instructor, I believe. Very nice man from what I've heard. Do you like to act much, Ms. Pinyin?"