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While she didn’t voice her concerns, it seemed as if she was a little anxious, like she expected him to suddenly stop playing nice at any moment, and tell her all sorts of awful things. Instead, he inquired about why she hadn’t shown this side of herself more frequently. With some reluctance, she replied, “If you don’t hate me by the end of this trip, maybe we’ll talk about it. I’m just not very comfortable opening up to people, okay?” It wasn’t anything against him personally, and from the tone of her voice, it seemed like she was actually trying not to come off as rude, for once. While they hadn’t just met, some could argue that they were introducing themselves to one another, again. There were insecurities she still held, though he’d certainly moved her in a way she hadn’t known in a long time. As she said, if he truly still had some interest in finding out about her, he’d remember to inquire later, but respect her enough to delve into it later.

While they were being directed through sections of the enormous exhibit, they were free to roam around, so long as they didn’t stray from the overall compilation of classes, and remained in close vicinity to their selected partner. Her partner admired some scenery here and there, but didn’t seem drawn to anything. It wasn’t like he was the only one, and she wasn’t deeply interested in anything she saw. However, upon eyeing a 19th century Ottoman dress, she couldn’t help but gravitate towards it. The dress was beautiful, a rich shade of red velvet embroidered with a thread the color of gold, many ornate designs depicting what looked to be various leaves stemming out in all directions.

While some would expect her to simply agree, she wouldn’t. “I would never wear it, and it would look kind of silly at this day and age, but I can’t help but feel nostalgic.” It was a decent reply, but it wasn’t much for him to continue the conversation on, so she tried to open up ever so slightly on something not too insecure. “I used to sit beside my grandmother, and she would sew dresses together, like this one,” she said, faking a sewing motion with her hands for body language. “I was so impressed that I tried it myself, and it looked like s**t—” she lowered her hands, “—while she got me ice cream to make me feel better, I was too angry that I couldn’t be as good as she was. What can you do, though, right?” Either way, she found herself to enjoy things like photography and making collages, something of her own where she wouldn’t strive to be something she wasn’t.

"Only when it counts.." It sounded a lot more smooth in his head but when he said it aloud it just came out as an awkward mumble that she may have not even been in earshot to hear by the time Isabella was shoveled into the crowd by those behind her. A mixed sigh of disappointment relief as the last of the students piled into the museum escaped him, following close behind to be one of the last to take in the ancient sights. It was exactly as he remembered considering he visited the location once or twice years back on a trip that was far less interesting. Nonetheless, it never ceased to surprise him when his eyes were laid upon the multitude of ancient exhibits from a time long passed. Of course, he would have time to here all about the pieces of art, literature, and history when their group would inevitably come across it. He stepped up to Isabella and her friends almost as if he were pretending to have been there the whole time.



"Is this place neat or what?" Said Thomas, forced enthusiasm lingering in his voice.

"Hey, Thomas, don't freak out, but look--"

Thomas nodded towards Caleb, the least he would be willing to give him as he didn't expect the conversation to actually go on. At the call of his name, he'd look up to where Isabella had wanted him to, obviously there was something to notice about the light bulb. Okay? He thought with a brow raised in confusion. It seemed like time flew by as she now had electricity pulsating around her fingertips, the bulb starting to flicker constantly after be ripped of it's source of energy. It would surely become a faulty dud soon enough. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. He knew exactly what had just happened but part of him didn't want to believe it and he didn't know why. Perhaps how open she was with showing that she could absorb and or manipulate electricity to someone she was just getting to know, she had guts for that he could admit. Now he was wondering heavily how many other fellow classmates were harboring an ability of their own.

To the matter at hand, Thomas turned to face Isabella, only a little speechless from the ordeal. "I'd be lying if I said that wasn't cool, so..That was pretty cool." The excitement in his voice was masked by the fact that he was trying to contain himself. The topic of supers and abilities was only his favorite thing to discuss and research. Now he more or less was associated with one and Thomas wasn't so sure he was interested in the ancient sets of armor, books, and art at the moment.

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➢Amity stood infant of a display case with artifacts that were recovered years ago. The people who they belonged to also perished long ago, but she was more than intrigued to understand if they had anything to do with her own past. She knew very little of her own family then became a kid warrior so to speak at the mere age that she was pressured to using her powers once they sprouted when she was six. She called a small room with a wooden bed frame as a bad and rags as a mattress, but she always let the breeze come in as it was her only friend at that time. By the age of 12, she had been given a code name by those who kidnapped her though she didn't know it. She called some of the same men who were among the soldiers who did the deed family and it wasn't until one of the older female officers had told her that she wasn't related to any of them despite the many attempts from her brother. The small village she was born into had now changed into a city, her family had emerged into the newer european culture and adopted many practices, but they weren't the only troubling history she wanted access to. Amity was on the hunt for answers on her abilities, like that of her brother whom existed in a psychological sense--within her mind. He had told her to find some museums on the east coast given the distance and somewhat close proximity to Europe.
Amity had moved from where she previous was on the east coast to a small one-person apartment in Chicago. She seemed out of tune, but as the wind carried on her thoughts, the idea of moving sounded pleasant.
She noticed the younger people move inside the building and thought to herself that it might just be more onlookers on some trip. Her focus remained on the artifacts that were surrounded by display cases.
When she departed from Europe, she tore off a logo or sigma from the uniform she wore during her training and combat. She was very much so to determine the people who had seemed out and abducted her like many others of the people she knew whom were also gifted.
"Hmm...doesn't seem really fitting.." Sighing, Amity put up the piece of cloth near the glass to make sure to rule out a possible clue.

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➢Given the likelihood that any person from the past organization could be out in the public amongst her was something she risked, but having a random person walk up to her and ask if she needed help is what made her slightly confused.
"No...I'm just figuring something out on my own." She quickly stuffed the patch on her arm bag that was on her left arm. Amity brushed a couple strands of her blond hair behind her ear. She turned to the boy and shifted her eyebrows from a scared to a more serious facial expression and walked farther into the museum. The building was huge in its own right, having probably more than eight rooms each with its own connecting display to the front region theme where they were in.
She kept her head forward, but looked back and bumped into a man.
"I'm sorry.."The man she had bumped into seemed angry at the noise he made when they impacted. Soon after apologizing, she continued to move forward.

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For whatever reason, some stranger with money got her phone number and sent her an anonymous text yesterday morning with a very generous offer for her services. While she didn’t consider herself some hired mercenary, she did find the opportunity to screw around very inviting. Unfortunately, the list of names and pictures were of people not supposed to die, but they didn’t say she couldn’t kill anyone else. Actually, there was one name for someone she didn’t have to be so gentle with.

After walking into the museum with her ticket, she walked around in search of the people. In order to not get arrested on the spot, she settled for a wig and a hoodie, the hood comfortably over her head. When she finally arrived at the exhibit, the narrowed her eyes as she began to spot of the people on the list, conveniently all around and partnered with each other. It was as if she was destined to ruin their day, and she would do so…gladly. However, she needed to get their attention first, so she looked over to one of the security guards at the exhibit. “Excuse me! I need your help with something.”

Naturally, he approached her, curious to her dilemma. “I’m gonna need you to die,” she said, smiling.

His eyes widened. “What did you say?”

As soon as she lifted her hand, he was electrocuted and collapsed on his back dead. “I’d repeat myself, but you’re kind of dead, so…” When the crowd turned in her direction, she pulled her hood back and tossed the wig aside. With how often she’d been on the news, they were bound to recognize that she was far from friendly. “Hello there, I’m here to kill all of you in the name of our lord and savior, Jigglypuff.” After a little laugh, she said, “Actually, I’m just here to kill you all.” It was a lie, but given her reputation, they’d have better believed it.