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Even though she heard Noah’s muttering, Elea continued on with cleaning. After all, she was an undercover reported and had to act ‘normal’--well as normal as one could be on this crazy island--while maintaining the illusion of volunteering herself. Gathering more pieces of broken sand molded into glass did she hear herself being referred to as ‘miss’ as Dallas so lightly put it. Slowly she rose from her kneeling position to throw away the shards--being careful not to trip over anything--to the wastebasket.

“Fairchild.” She said, dusting off her hands as the shards went into the basket. “Elea Fairchild.” There her full name was out in the open, the journalist made it seem like her name was as plain and boring as a white cotton tube sock. After introducing herself over and over again in different places in different situations, one tends to just say their name in a monotone voice.

Walking back over to the mess of mirror did she kneel down, carefully scooping up the tinier shards of glass. There were no wounds on her delicate hands, making it safer for her to get the pieces. Though the safest thing was to use a broom but since she had no idea where that might be, she had to ‘rough it’ for the moment. And besides if she nicked herself no big deal, there had to be some bandages somewhere on the island.

As for Noah getting nervous again, well, she was cleaning up meaning the other two had to do something to calm the mouse man down.

Was the guy always this nervous? Or was it just the change?

"It's just a guess, but don't you think that they check everyone out after a change, at least to see the extent of the changes. I've never heard of anyone being checked out right away, but i bet they come check us out once we go to sleep." If that made the guy more uncomfortable, oh well. That was the harsh reality of it.

"Oh, and it's nice to meet you, Elea. And you too Noah." He nodded to each in turn.

The journalist continued to remain silent, her mind focused on completing the task of cleaning up the shattered bits and pieces glass. Under different circumstances would she possibly have kept the broken remnants of the mirror. The little artsy side to the girl--aside from writing--was painting, or at least making something pretty looking out of something broken. Like glass, the crushed bits could be stuck on a black piece of paper and look divine under the right light.

Arts and crafts, yup she was that type of girl from time to time but no one ever saw her complete her little projects.

But back to her current situation did she finish cleaning up the mess. Most if not all the broken bits stashed away at the bottom of the trash can and thankfully only one piece nicked the side of her right index finger. The cut didn’t cause much blood to spring out but just a light trail to run down to the first join of her finger. Bringing her tiny injury to her mouth did she lick away the blood, she didn’t want to stain her own clothes with the stuff.

The information presented by Ryan was a little unnerving, so they came into their rooms to inject them. The only way possible to catch them in the act would be to have a endless supply of coffee and live without sleeping--something no human or animal could possibly ever do. The longest Elea went without sleep was two days but that’s another story.

“Mm” Was her reply to Noah, letting her injured finger go. The mild bleeding stopped and now she was back to having that awkward silence feeling looming over. She wasn’t a people person--which was strange considering she is a journalist…or was--and it did take her a long time to warm up to others. But there was a way to combat this! Yes! All she had to do was act the same way around the males like she was at work. Pretend to be happy and talkative to keep things running smoothly without any questions asked.

“It’s no problem…and I lied. I just got on the island about three to four days ago…so…yeah.” Okay maybe not the best way to start off the conversation but it was a start.

"It's no problem, really." He examined Noah some more, doing his best to make it look like he wasn't. With the blood on his tail, Ryan couldn't help but see him as the mice he'd fed to snakes and lizards and the like so often before. That thought gave him a little shudder. He had a mental image of holding Noah in front of a snake with tongs.

Turned away from his morbid thoughts, he turned to the Dallas. "Nice to meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances."

Back to an awkward silence again, Ryan curled his own tail around, very similar to Noah's except armored. Unfortunately (or fortunately), it was only a foot and a half at most, he without really reaching his arm behind him, he couldn't get to it.

Yes, what a welcome indeed. Elea scoffed at the so-called ‘welcome’, turning her head away to avert her gaze from Noah and the rest of them. ‘I should get going. Write up I’ve learned so far…and find something stronger than caffeine to keep me awake.’ She thought to herself, one hand placing itself within the cool confines of her blazer pocket.

When Dallas came back her eyes moved over to just what the youth brought before turning to look away. Her mind was caught between trying to decide if she should stay or go. If she stayed then maybe she would learn more about the island or figure out a way of escape. If she left then she would be able to write down what she learned, plan out an escape and in the end it would leave her left alone to think deeply about her actions.

She could’ve just stayed in New York, looking for a different job instead of volunteering to be some lab rat--no pun on Noah intended. Be left in that city to live out her life with a family who didn’t bother to pay the slightest attention to her or with the few friends she had. Honestly, was there a lot of difference between living on this island and being in New York.

In either case she had very little--the life of a journalist was never glamorous. A small sigh left her lips as she turned to watch the interaction between the three males. Elea would watch/observe for now, wait until she was spoken or…finally decide to leave.

"Well, you both seem to be handling this all pretty well, in any case."

Ryan yawned; he was usually asleep right now. Noah seemed to have calmed down now, and the humans seemed to have everything under control.

"Hey guys, it's about time for me to get to sleep. You feeling okay Noah? You don't mind if I head out, do you?"

Female, the opposite of the male gender. The only sex to have children…yeah, about time they noticed that. But in all honesty it didn’t matter much to the journalist. In her line of work there were more males than females which left her immune to being a different gender than the rest of her peers. Hell, the only time people noticed she was a girl was when she wore skirts--which happened rarely, only when she didn’t do her laundry. In either case, thank you Dallas for pointing out the obvious.

Elea shrugged her shoulders, she didn’t feel like she was being singled out because of her gender. She was just taking herself out of the picture momentarily only to be brought back. The talent to ‘blend into the background’ was acquired by Elea at a young age. From parents trying to keep up with each active child’s daily activities it made it easy for Elea to just watch what was going on around her instead of participating.

“No its okay, you’re not. If you were, it wouldn’t matter anyway.” Her shoulders shrugged again towards the end. She seemed calm--almost too calm--for someone to be fine with the idea of being singled out but eh that’s Elea. She was the type of person a friend or stranger could go if one needed help to burry a corpse into the earth or dump off at sea. Yeah, Elea was a strange one all right.

At Ryan’s decision to head off to bed the emerald orb girl simply nodded at his decision. This would’ve been the perfect opportunity to head off too, but nope. She wanted to leave alone, as in without anyone else coming with her. Partially because she didn’t fully trust any of the males within the room, nor did she want them to find out exactly what duplex she lived in. It was fine for girl’s to know where the other lived but guys on the other hand…it was sort of creepy to her to let them exactly know where she resided.

After all, each of them could be stalkers in the making. Or maybe not, perhaps her imagination was getting the better of her.

“You tend to get use to strange things when working with the National Inquirer.” She replied to Noah, both hands now placed in her pockets. “Rather when you did work for National Inquirer.” Elea just had to correct herself, she use to work for the N.I. Not anymore since she signed her life away to a devil named Moreau.