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PM roleplay with
Welcome to South Central High, they had said. We know you’ll enjoy it here. But Amy had doubts. She didn’t think it was the building itself, cold iron and ugly red brick. Huge, imposing, surrounded by frosty pavement and a chain link fence. She didn’t think it was the city itself, so different from her quiet, country hometown. It was the reason she was here, that was the nagging doubt in her mind. Now that school was over and she was waiting for a taxi, it didn’t go away.
Amy Johnson, nigh on her seventeenth birthday, signaled the taxi driver to stop as the ugly checkered car rolled up along a plain gray building. The size of a multi story office building, professional, neat, orderly, it wasn’t much to look it. Paying her fare, she climbed out of the cab and hesitantly made her way up to the front doors.
Amy was small. No way around it. Slender, petite, a oh-so-intimidating 5 feet and three quarters… She wasn’t exactly the ‘special’ type. That’s what she always believed. Coppery hair, a mix of natural blond and red, cut to her shoulders and as wild as could get, untamed by anything other than hours of styling. So she didn’t bother, letting it free. She had a young looking face, with large, expressive eyes (an indecisive mix of gray and green), small feet and small hands. And apparently a small voice, as she entered the building through large glass doors and shyly approached an individual near to the receptionist’s desk (empty), assuming they’d no what was going on.
“My name’s…Amy Johnson. I’m looking for…” A pause as she looked around, then spoke once more. “I’m here for the... Project?”
"The project, eh?" he answered back with no emotion, not even a slight tone of interest. He was hiding well behind his cap, a black one with the independence emblem on it, hiding him and his bad hair day horror. Of course, bad hair didn't matter when you wanted to work with the project. It was one of those things you just had to leave behind.
"So now that I know your name let me look for the filing," he said, disappearing from her view and diving to grand amounts of folders with various sub-categories. After an arduous search of Female, the letter J, and the age of seventeen he finally found her archive. "I guess it’s true, you're here for the project."
"The name's Ray Morris. It's been a pleasure! Now if you could sign here..." he took out a paper and gave it to her. He had jotted down the time she had talked with him, 3:55 P.M., now all he needed was her signature to return to his old habit of doing nothing at work.
Gladly, his shift was about to end, and Marcos would replace him. He also needed to go to the project, but he couldn't leave his post until the next employee registered. Ray sighed as the clock on the wall behind him ticked and tocked, making the waiting more irritating than that of an anxious kid waiting for a video game. "I could show you around after Marcos comes over." He slightly moved closer to the counter and looked for a black pen. "Here you go," he added.
Jumping when Ray held out the pen, she looked at it for a second before taking it, as if unsure of what it was. But of course she knew- standard black ball point pen. Sliding the form across the receptionist desk closer to her, she neglected saying anything until she had scrawled her signature at the bottom. Neat, loopy sort of writing that she didn't really like.
Sliding the paper and pen back towards him, she raised her eyes to his height and took in the features. The hat was a bit strange. Large eyes slightly unnerving, she finally spoke again, a contrast to one very free with his words.
"Are you... a part of the project?" She's never met anyone else like him, and looked away after examining him closely enough.
He took of his cap and scratched his head for a few seconds, revealing his black spiky (now a mess) hair. His run-of-the-mill brown eyes had a slight touch of light in them that made them interesting to look at for a while, his tanned skin also gave away that he wasn't originally from that country, and his usual nervous smile (almost his trademark) made him seem like a little kid.
"Yes, indeed. I'm part of the project." Nothing else was said when a chubby man entered Ray's peripheral view. 'Finally, you're here' he thought as the man waved at him and entered the counter area.
Taking off his name tag, he went out of his prison and stood next to her. "So, miss Johnson, ready for your tour?" he said, still sounding as a professional. "Euh... Don't worry, I'm not so uptight all the time," he continued, "it's just that my boss is there and he likes us to treat everyone as if they were really really old even if we're not working."
Really, really old? Amy looked down at herself and almost laughed. She was so small, and what she was wearing didn't give off a very professional air. A long sleeved green top, a long, brown hippi-like skirt embroidered with vines, a pair of darker green sneakers, and the messenger style bag swung over one shoulder was a stripy, bright thing made of a recycled blanket or something.
"Yes. I'd like to see around." She said, still quiet, but with genuine interest perking her up a bit. Moving to follow him, she found herself having to keep careful watch over the walls in her mind, as not to pick up everything about this young man. Privacy was something she valued and tried to respect at all costs- even if the emotions and thoughts of others became almost overwhelming
Opening the huge oak wood door, he let her enter the hallway. Its floor was carpeted with a dark red carpet, which made it look very elegant. “Well,” he broke the moment of awe, “this is what I like to call the Hall of Confusion. Yet, its real name is the grand hall,” he showed her the innumerable doors that anyone could find (or not) in it.
“Luckily, all starter classes are taken close to the reception room we just came from.” They both kept walking and from time to time he looked at the girl. “So, what brought you here?” he asked as if it was a normal question to any of the teenagers that entered the project, but the thing was that it was a normal question for him. Ray stopped, he leaned from the wall and waited patiently for her answer. They still had about a minute to go to their first class, so there was no need to worry.
Amy had never seen anything like this. Was this really some sort of school? All of a sudden her stomach clenched and she went a bit pale as the reality set in. She was here, and there would be other people, and the reason she was here... Her panicky thoughts interrupted by Ray, she looked over at him and processed the question. What brought her here?
"Well... I'm guessing.... The same thing that brought you here. I mean, I can... do things. Can't you?" As an afterthought, and because she'd never really had anyone to talk to about it before, she added, "I can... move things without touching them. Telekinesis. And feel what people are," She cleared her throat, thinking that maybe knowing that someone else could feel what they were feelings would make someone feel uncomfortable. "Feeling."
”Well, you’re not the only one that moves things without touching them around here,” he smiled at her, moving away from the wall and sitting on the dark red carpet. ’Yet, that knowing how others feels is new,’he thought, not knowing if she could also know what he was thinking. “So, can you see me?” he asked, knowing that she’d only see his clothes.
Ray’s power wasn’t an offensive one, it was more of a self-defense tactic. He could blend in, literally. Just like chameleons, his skin had specialized cells that on command shifted their levels and his skin changed color. Pretty handy for hiding and not being noticed. Yet, that wasn’t the only power he had…
Standing up, his skin gradually changed colors until he seemed to be the same color of the door behind him, doorknob included. “We should enter the classroom,” he smiled and returned to his normal skin color. But, didn’t that make you wonder if that was his true skin color?
"Woa," While not the most intelligent thing Amy could have thought up, it perfectly described her reaction to Ray's little display. "I can't." Leaning closer to him as he sat down, trying to see where his skin ended and carpet began, she found herself fascinated by thinking of how that would work. Backing off again as he stood up, she tried to shake off her wonder and nodded again.
"Right... Class. Let's go." She made no move to enter though, just shifting slightly where she stood and waiting for Ray to lead the way, obviously nervous.
The room was basically empty except for a few mats it had on the floor. "This is the class you'll always want to take first," Ray said as he showed her the room. "This empty place is the one that exploits everyone's power!" he smiled and then looked at Amy. "Soon enough you'll meet our teacher."
He'd been smiling all this time. There was something in that girl that made him be that way. Of course, he was always a happy and jovial person, but she made it easier to do. He was trying not to stare, but it was hard... Really hard.
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