Logan
Sergei rolled over in his bed, head pounding with a headache from the hangover of hell. He raised his head and glared at the alarm clock. With great deliberation, he started to decompose its component atoms. When the alarm clock's inner workings crumbled into dust, the annoying, shrill sounds cut out. Sergei sighed with relief and then looked close at his bedside table.
A glass of something clear. Two tablets. Oh, thank you merciful Christ. He sat up slightly and groped for the tablets. He placed them on his tongue and chased them down with half the glass of water. Then he transmuted the other half to vodka. He drank that as well, then got up out of bed. He put his foot in a bucket and tripped over with a crash. Borzehmoi, he thought to himself as he got up again and shook the bucket off his leg. He was appreciative for the thought though. Whoever had done this, knew exactly what it was like to wake up hungover and still slightly drunk from the night before. Or had helped others through it.
Sergei decided to look for a bathroom. Combing his clawed fingers through almost dreadlocked hair...actually, that was a thought. What would he look like with dreadlocks? He looked into the doors of the room he was in. A wardrobe. Seeing as how the clothes he was wearing didn't fit him at all, and had blood on them besides, he took them off and shrugged into a light grey tracksuit. Now. He needed a shower. He ventured forth into the halls.
Logan was heading out for meditation when he saw the Russian teen from the night before wandering the halls with an almost lost look on his face. Logan could commiserate. The Mansion was huge if you weren't used to it, and seeing as how the kid had spent the last two years in a cell, the shock would be even worse. "Hey, bub," Logan said quietly as he came up behind the ebony youth. The kid whirled around, silver pupils dilating to cover amber eyes. Logan had to admit, the kid was good looking in a totally exotic way.
"Chteherho," Sergei said warily, one lock of bluesheened black hair falling forward over his face. (Morning.)
"Did ya find the pills? I'm assuming ya did, cos you're actually up." Logan ran a hand through his hair.
"That wast you? Veh'i." (Thank you.) Sergei shifted from foot to foot. "Um. I was looking for da showers, da?"
"Right. I'll show you where they are." Sergei nodded and followed Logan through the wood paneled corridors. He couldn't help looking enviously at the obvious signs of wealth. Amyereekantsi. (Americans.) Such ostentatious bourgeis displays of wealth...He kept his mouth shut though, and nodded to Logan when they reached the showers.
"Veh'i."
"No problems." Logan went to do his meditations. Soon, Sergei emerged from the showers, hair damp from the warm water and more relaxed then he had been in two years. He padded through the halls, following the sounds of voices and slipped into the cafeteria. He followed the other students examples and served himself, before getting a glass of water. He sat down and tapped the glass. Viola. Vodka. He poured it into the orangejuice, then settled to wolfing down the good foor.
Dawn and Clark
Dawn and Clark came over to Segei. Because of everything that had been happening, they decided to come back to the Mansion for a while.
"Hi, I'm Dawn," she said, holding out her hand, "It's nice to meet you."
Sergei
Sergei glanced upwards, and paused for a moment. "Sergei." He drank from his orangejiuce and vodka mix, still gazing at her extended hand mistrustfully. "Sorry. Nurrrsing a hangoverrr. Hair of the dog that bit, da?" He raised his glass for a moment, then turned his attention back to his food. "And it bit bad. That, combined with overrr two years as a labrrrat have nnot made me overrrly trrustful."
Clark
Clark shuddered. "I'd imagine so. I'm Clark, by the way," he shook Sergei's hand. "I know what it's like to have to hide from people in power, for fear they'll turn me into a lab rat," he sighed.
Sergei
Sergei got up and got another glass of water, transmuting into vodka as he walked slowly back. "Da. To science, da?" He raised his glass before downing the aclohol in one smooth swallow. "Me, I am looking at probably spending the rrrest of my life stone cold drrrunk to forrrget. Not such a nice thing to vish for, but dere it is." He spun the glass on the tabletop and stared at it moodily, eyes old and tired.
Clark and Dawn
Clark pondered this. "I honestly don't think I could get drunk even if I tried," he said honestly. He pulled up a chair across from Sergei and Dawn sat on his lap.
"So, Sergei, tell us about yourself," he asked, smiling.
Sergei
"Vhat is to tell? I vast born in Moscow. My mother, she is mutant. My father, he is alien." Sergei poked at his food with a fork. "Two years ago, I was drrrunk, wandering the banks of the rrriver, when boom! Planes, men, all dat shit. Some svoloch' banged me over the back of da head. Woke up in a white cell, with a lump if plutonium next to me." He shrugged. "Not as bad as it sounds. But this is the first food I've had on two years. I can live off nuclear radiation if I have to...but I prefer food."
Dawn and Clark
Clark grimaced. "Radiation won't hurt me, but come near me with a piece of green meteor rock, and it will eventually kill me. It's called Kryptonite, pieces of my home planet Krypton. My mother says I eat like a horse," Clark said, jokingly.
"He's my Superman," Dawn told Sergei, "I don't think I'd still be alive if he wasn't here." She leant down and kissed him quickly. Then she rested her head on his shoulder.
"I'm not mutant or alien. I'm actually mystical energy that's been transformed into human form. I've been constructed out of chaos, if that makes any sense at all," Dawn explained.
Sergei
"Nyet," Sergei said. "No sense at all. You surrre you're alright? You sound worrrse then Natalia on one of her bad days, and please god, let her be dead." Sergei crossed himself in the Russian Orthodox manner. "If there is a god, please let her be dead."
Dawn, Clark and Rosalind
"She's telling the truth," Clark said. "She was constructed by monks. They needed to make sure that this big ball of green energy would be safe, so they turned it into a person."
"And here I am," Dawn giggled. Rosalind saw the new boy, and decided to introduce herself.
"Hi, I'm Rosalind Canterbury," she said, holding out her hand to Sergei. SHe looked sideways at Dawn.
"Hey Dawnie, how are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm okay. I didn't realize how much I had come to lovetis place until I went to Clark's to visit. This place has gotten into my blood," she said.
"I know, it's like this school has become my second family."
Sergei
"Vell, sounds nice." Sergei was starting to get uncomfortable. He'd barely talked to one person in two years, and now there were three talking to him. He got up again and found a bottle. He was getting sick of having to get up. He transmuted the water in it to vodka as he walked back to the table and poured himself a glass. "So far, no one's tried to get my blood, or a skin sample, or decided they have a nice new experiment Id be perfect forr, so hey. My life's looking up."
Rosalind
Rosalind could feel the pain in his soul. She leaned over and kissed him firmly on the lips, healing some of his emotional and mental anguish, as only the Mer were able to do.
Sergei
Sergei froze. Girl. Kissing him. She tasted like salt and something sweet. He felt some of his pain leaving him, and wondered.
Rosalind
Rozzie looked Sergei square in the eye. "Nobody deserves to have that much pain at such a young age," she declared. "You needed some peace." Then she sat down next to Dawn.
Sergei
"Vhat, I mean, how?" Sergei stammered, one hand going to his mouth. "Vhat, is this new American custom I have missed?" He grinned slightly.
Dawn and Rosalind
Dawn giggled. "Rozzie's Mer. She's a selkie, a seal-person. One of the gifts of the Merpeople is to take away emotional and mental pain. And it generally involves kissing," She explained, laughing. Rozzie blushed.
"Not that I didn't WANT to kiss you, it's just, well, that's how it works."
Sergei
"Vant to try it again?" Sergei grinned, yellow eyes sparking with amusement and silver pupils gleaming. "I am not adverrrse."
Rosalind
Rozzie reached over and gave him a quick peck. "You taste like vodka," she decided. "You shouldn't be drinking that stuff, it's bad for you," she admonished.
Sergei
Sergei raised his glass to her. "Da. It is bad for me. But I am Russian. Why de hell do you dink we made de stuff? Russia is cold, boring and lonely. Vodka helps." He shrugged slightly. "Dat, and I have a lot of things I want to forget. Vodka is good for dat."
Rosalind
"So is faith," Rozzie argued amiably.
Sergei
"Da, but vodka is more fun." Sergei grinned. "Besides, God, he is not real. I am not a Communist, but I do agrrree with Marx on one point. Religion is the opiate of the masses."
Rosalind
Rosalind sighed. "If you do not believe in God, you cannot believe in me. All of the gods and goddesses are real, please trust me on this. Dawn is the child of Januzs, the god of Chaos. Willow is an earth goddess. Nyx and Sabre are children of Bastet, the Egyptian cat goddess. And Emily, who has a guard post here, is the Angel of Death, an angel of Jehovah, the God of Christianity and Judaism. So to say there is not God is an insult to many people here, who can prove otherwise. Please do not make such blanket statements. God is very real."
Sergei
"That does not mean I can not still be an aethist. I'm very good at ducking thunderrrbolts." Sergei fiddled with his glass. "If the gods actually gave a damn, the worrrld would not be in such a state as it is. So, until then, they can bite me." He smiled bitterly.
Rosalind
Rosalind sighed. "They do care. They all care. But people have free will. And the gods have rules they have to obey. They can't go against free will. No matter how much they want too. Would you like to meet a goddess?" She asked Sergei.
Sergei
"As it stands, I dink not. I'd prrrobably do something stupid, like try to hit herrr." Sergei stood, abruptly tired out from all this conversation. "Excuse me. I am not used to having to talk. Nice to have met you all, tovarischi." He nodded at them, picking up his dirty things, before stalking away. Borzehmoi. He decided to get another bottle and disappear into his room for the rest of the day. Getting drunk out of his mind. The girl had helped with whatever it was that she had done, but he was still hurting.
Rosalind, Dawn and Clark
Rosalind sighed. "A lot of pain, that one has. It will take him long to heal, and maybe even longer to learn to trust again. My sibs and I have been working all of our energy into healing the pain in this place, but there is so much." With that she got up and left Clark and Dawn alone, who promptly began to make out.