The Art of Racing in the Rain [Ninny]

[Jemima Rennal]

It was no surprise to find Jemima tucked up in the student lounge, nearly entirely swallowed by an armchair, kindle on one arm of the chair, ipod tucked in her pocket on her favourite reading mix - Paper with Words on It. Occasionally, her finger would drag along the screen and turn the page, utterly rapt with the book she was currently reading. She'd read it before, but it was one of her most beloved - a story about an aging dog, telling the story of it's family. It had made her cry more than once, and as the ipod changed to a sad little song, she wrinkled up her nose and wiped at her eyes. Thank god the place was quiet - the last thing she needed was people fussing over her when all she was doing was blubbing over a book.

Moving around in the armchair so she was facing away from the door, she took one headphone out and reached for the milkshake she'd bought earlier, sipping it through the straw then snorting in amusement as the liquid rushed out despite her stopped sipping. She had no idea why it was funny, but it tickled her in her moment of soppiness, and that was all that mattered. The story came to it's dramatic, sorrowful climax shortly after, and the blonde girl hugged her knees for a moment, composing herself. Being hysterically sad and yet amused at a squirty straw was probably not the best thing for anyone to see in their travels.

Shutting down the Kindle for the time being, she gazed out of the window, a little bleary from the tears, and staring at a screen for the past hour and a half. Indeed, the words were still buzzing in her mind for a good five minutes longer. Flicking the mix to something a little more cheerful, she began mumbling under her breath the lyrics to the song that came on, a little grin at the inanity of the words brightening her face.

"Yeah, uh huh, you know what it is." She sang to herself, flinging her legs out.

"Well actually." She paused the song, shaking her head. "I have no clue what IT is. Aside from that it's black and yellow and I'm talking to an inanimate object again." She halted in her protest, chewing on her lip. Somewhere a voice in her head said something about insanity, and she flushed quietly. She was definitely NOT insane, she just didn't know what "it" was and wanted clarification. From an object that couldn't talk. That was totally fine.

[Nico Dahl]

It was study time; and that, in Nin's definition of things, meant that instead of studying he was in all probability chasing after one or two replicas of himself. It was a vicious cycle. First he'd be stressed out over a nearing exam, then whatever mechanism it was in himself that made it so he split off in some inane form of mitosis would kick in, and then he'd spend most of his time trying to track them down before they did anything terrible, or set anything on fire, or hooked up with that weird clerk at the gas station again. And then, after all that, he'd do badly on it anyway, and it all rolled over into a routine that was nothing less than exhausting.

We walk in on our intrepid explorer-- wait, no. This isn't even about Nin now, but rather Nin Clone #1 and Nin Clone #3, who didn't often convene despite being identical in every way, but did now on account of having ducked into the building, cackling and shooting furtive glances over their shoulders for any sign of Nin Classic. He wasn't too far behind; enough that with a sudden curse one of them had snatched an identical arm and tugged the other into the student lounge. 1 took a leap over a chair and managed to accidentally take it down with him, and 3, apparently the more graceful or wiser of the two (really it was because 1 had done what he was planning to and since that had turned out badly he had to take another course of action, obviously), scanned the area and decided that the safest option was to hide behind an armchair. Like, you know, the one that Jem was in. Exactly the one that Jem was in.

At least 3 was subtle about it. He didn't go RIGHT to Jem, of course, but rather made it a steady progression from ducking behind one chair to another until he'd finally reached the one in question, hoping that it would seem less suspicious to hide behind an occupied chair than an empty one; 1, on the other hand, had proceeded to knock down two more, and 3 facepalmed. Hard.

The girl was talking to herself now and he peeked over the armrest at the door to the lounge, then at her. She was pretty, but at seventeen Nin thought almost everyone with boobs was pretty; also, she dressed kind of like a cute hobo and had like twenty bajillion things balanced everywhere, which automatically made her distantly awesome in his book. "Is it a bee?" 3 piped up. You know, yellow and black and OH GOD NIN DON'T SNEAK UP ON PEOPLE IT'S RUDE.

Settling Miss Rennal with a look he hoped looked less crazed than hopeful (for good measure he smiled too, although that probably didn't help his case much) he added in a hushed tone, "Hey, if I come in, pleeease don't tell me I'm here, okay? Or there." 3 dropped his voice further as he pointed towards 1, who had apparently given up hiding and was currently perusing the vending machine. "If it comes down to a triage situation you can tell me about me being over there. Or you could flas-" BAD CLONE, NO. "Nevermind. HI."

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[Jemima Rennal]

When two people arrived who looked identical to each other, Jem didn't bat a single eyelid. This is what happens when you've been at Hammel for five years, everything is completely normal, I'm pretty sure a man with a squid for a head could have walked in and Jem would have simply waved and continued complaining to her ipod that the song didn't make a whole lot of sense. She did stare a little blankly when Nin Clone #1 decided that he appeared to have a vendetta against the chairs in the student lounge, but then, some people had phobias about chairs and all sorts of things, so maybe at some point in this strange blonde's life he'd been abused by an armchair.

Suddenly, Jem had the feeling she was being snuck up on, and when Nin #3 poked his head over the armchair, the girl started a little. "It could be a bee." She replied, glancing over her shoulder at 3, finding herself admiring his moles. She wished she had moles. They were an interesting facial quirk and would help identify her if she died in a tragic accident. "Or a wasp, or a car. Or pikachu, I suppose." She admitted with a shrug. "I don't know that rappers sing about any of those things though." Jem chewed on her lap and then turned properly to face the hiding blonde.

"You're... duplicates then?" At first she'd thought they were a gestalt pair, but this made a whole lot more sense. "So if one of you is sick and then you split into lots of yous do you all get sick too? And when you get put back together are you then super sick because you've got the bugs from all the other duplicates?" Yes, Jem was suddenly fascinated, and peered at Nin-that-wasn't-Nin-but-was. Of course, then #3 began talking about how he was not to be revealed and that she was to tell the original guy about VendingMachine Blonde with the offense to chairs. Running her hands through her hair to try and figure out what was the right course of action, she frowned.

"Wont you wonder why the chairs are knocked over and come looking simply for that fact? And did you have a horrible moment with a chair when you were younger? I know Dr. Neville would be able to help you through the chair hating issues an- ... I hope he's not going to take the last bag of chocolate buttons." She paused, glaring over at Nin #1. "If he does I might have to kick him." She paused, then looked over to the door. Well, this had certainly made her forget about the sad ending of her book.

[Nico Dahl]

"Rappers sing about cars," he replied. Nintendo was often unaware as to how completely not helpful his commentary was and rather thought that he was helping, as it was some sort of benign defense mechanism pushed into existence by that nifty array of chemicals nestled in his brain that kept him from realizing that he was a complete and utter lost cause. "- and fine bitches. Mostly fine bitches. Could be fine bitches in bee outfits? Or fine bitches in bee outfits driving a yellow and black car? While playing Pokemon? That can't be too safe."

His brow furrowed at Jem's question and he thunked himself down into a sit. "Iunno," he confessed, suddenly affecting an expression that made it clear that now he was TERRIFIED, THANK YOU VERY MUCH JEM. But then, there was a 4 to 5 chance that Nin wouldn't remember this conversation anyway (probably snippets of it and mostly likely entirely out of context). 3 peeked over the side of the chair and watched 1 war it out with the machine over a rumpled dollar. "I mean, it probably only counts if Original Me is sick. Kinda tempted to get an embarrassing tattoo and see if it changes anything at all when I'm all back together." Suddenly remembering his manners, Nin stuck out a hand. "I'm Nin, by th'way. Well, one of them. Technically, I'm Number Three... that's One over there. And I wouldn't worry, I don't really like chocolate. One'll probably geeeeeet... Starburst, or something like that."

Okay, so 1 actually was going for a vile-looking package of Swedish Fish, but close enough.

"-horrible moment with what? Chairs? No." He propped an elbow on the armrest, turning his gaze towards the girl with a very serious I-am-totally-not-smooth-at-all demeanor before it was redirected to 1, who had apparently managed to win against the vending machine and had settled in to gum at the candy. "Now that you point it out, though, that's actually really sad from an external standpoint. Kinda like looking in a mirror. Actually, exactly like looking in a mirror. Wow. Those jeans do nothing for me." When he turned back to Jem, he added a succinct,"You're really cute up close, you know." AUGH NIN NO DON'T SAY THAT NOW SHE'S GOING TO THINK THAT YOU DON'T THINK SHE'S CUTE FROM FAR AWAY. GOD. IT'S LIKE A DIRECTING A GODDAMN CAT ADSYAGSJDGASHD.

[Jemima Rennal]

"This is true." Jem nodded to herself, envisioning a fine bitch with a DS and a bee outfit on. "I guess the song is a little less mysterious now." She frowned down at her ipod, then turned it off, mostly so no songs could further lie to her about mystery objects involving colours, shapes or boxes that aren't to the left. "But I would still like to know why the song presumes we know what it is when we don't." Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she scooted round on the chair and rested her chin on the arm rest.

Jem found Nin number three's explanation of powers satisfactory enough that she managed to stop talking about how the blonde guy was going to create a superbug that would wipe out the human race. "You should." She encouraged, actually smiling properly. "That way we can find out if your bodies are in sync or more like seperate entities. This is so fascinating." She reached round to her journal and turned to the back pages - where she wrote her theories and began to scrawl down 'Case Study - Nin - Duplication. Does What a Duplicate does to His body affect the Original?' "When you do, tell me, okay? And I'll study you to see if anything changes." Yes, Nin number three is now Jem's favourite science project, I'm so sorry. She did look up when Nin the Third offered his hand out, and she shook it, still eying number one with some sort of disdain as he went for the package. "Well that's something. Do not get between a girl and chocolate buttons." She said sagely, popping her journal away till she could write some theories on what would happen when the duplicates changed their bodies.

"The jeans aren't too bad, but you could do with some sort of belt, or maybe some nice boots." She cocked her head and then shrugged, turning back to Nin the Third and flushing. "Uh, well, thank you. I suppose that's better than looking really ugly close up. Which happens a lot. I have a slightly crooked nose and my thighs are too big." Jem shrugged her shoulders, then poked Nin's face cheerfully. "I like your moles, and your eyebrows." She smiled, then blinked over at the vending machine. "... I think One might be slightly mentally... off." She added quietly, confiding in the Other Nin quietly.