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Janice had not taken a moment's hesitation when the smell of smoke and the sounds of panic reached her senses - when the dorm building had caught on fire, she'd immediately stepped into the new skin granted to her by the General-King of the Negaverse, and just as immediately made her escape. She hadn't particularly cared if anyone had seen her shift from her civilian identity to Uranophane. They would probably have ended up dead anyway, and she'd felt her own chances of staying alive were higher when putting the strength and speed the uniform gave her to use.

Lieutenant Uranophane had learned from this experience that she could safely jump from a third-story window without worrying about sustaining any fractures.

For the rest of the night she opted not to power down: she remained on-guard, trusting the campus even less now that part of hit had burned down. It was entirely possible the thing she and Vera had gotten a glimpse of some weeks ago was still alive and waiting to do... whatever it was it was put on this Earth to do. And she very much wanted to maintain some capacity to fight off or escape from anything that might show her some hostility.

The first animate object she'd run into, however, didn't show her much, and had, for all intents and purposes, seemed like a mostly normal human girl. She was in the Barren Pines uniform, even. Her name was Laney.

After spending a couple of hours with Laney, Uranophane had learned the girl would obey her every order - no matter how sane or ridiculous - without question. Without complaint. And she responded well to her scant offerings of praise.

Uranophane now had a personal meatshield following her around.

Hematite had a pirate.

To be fair, it was a zombie pirate and a youma, formerly burnt to a crisp in the dorm fire. She was extra green because of it, as though her many disfiguring burns had been bestowed on her by comic book radiation. It was unclear where she'd found a new peg leg, but there she was, half walking and half tromping along after the lieutenant. He'd learned by now to put a 'don't talk back' clause on any youma he had to direct, because getting told that same old 'who's the real monster here' bullshit line was starting to lose its naive charm.

He may have been unarmed, but that was why he'd simply directed the first zombie he'd come across in the chaos to follow him. Hematite was impatient, not particularly thorough. For that reason, he had to suffer his choice of youma loudly bellowing 'Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall' at the top of her lungs as she stalked behind him. Religious song, cross her charcoal heart, she maintained. As this was about the tenth loophole she'd taken advantage of with his instruction wording, he'd given up to actually get something done. There were bound to be students around to sic her on, and then he'd have some peace of mind.

The lieutenant spotted a zombified student chasing after someone, someone who wasn't in Barren Pines uniform. Weird. Only four of the Negaverse were stationed here that he knew of, himself included; the hell was going on?

***

"SEVENTY-FOUR BOTTLES O' BEER ON TH' WALL, SEVENTY-FOUR BOTTLES O' BEEEEER!"

It was a shame Celia was dead, because had she been alive and a less garish shade of green, she'd have taken full advantage of working blood vessels to turn crimson with rage. She was quite sure she was dead, at least, because she'd never heard of anyone else coming back after being set on fire. It was supposed to be heroic. She'd known she would never have made it down the stairs in time to get herself out. She'd done her best to evacuate the third floor, and then fate had dropped part of the burning ceiling on her. And that was supposed to be that. Only it wasn't.

She was really hungry. Hadn't eaten since before she'd suddenly come to again as a rotting, burnt parody of her former self. And then this costumed jackass was ordering her around. She would have told him a few exciting new places to shove his militaristic orders, but... she couldn't refuse them. Which only served to infuriate her more.

"TAKE ONE DOWN, AND PASS IT AROUN', SEVENTY-THREE BOTTLES O' BEER ON THE WAAAAALL!"

Laney, with the same late-spring greenish tint to her face that her pirate counterpart was sporting, drew up to a stop just behind Uranophane. She tried briefly to peer over the other girl's shoulder to see what she was writing on her clipboard, but gave up the effort after only a moment.

It was all very strange. She felt like herself, on the one hand -- as much like herself as she had ever been, same personality, same sense of conviction that she should've kept up with her old Prozac prescription. On the other hand, she didn't feel like herself at all: she felt half a step out of synch with the concept of Laney Sutton, because she knew full well that she'd been killed in this fire earlier on the same day, and there was absolutely nothing natural or miraculous about the living dead. It was hard -- was impossible to get her head around, so Laney felt confused and frightened instead. It was all very unreal. It was all very real. She hated it.

So she tried not to think about it as best she could. She focused on Uranophane, because the darker-haired girl made her feel focused, and wherever it was that that feeling came from, it didn't matter.

Laney stood pleasantly behind her stern new mistress, no, why had she thought that? Her stern new friend. She smiled at the newcomers, and had formed both her hands into a flat, paddle shape, and was now merrily fanning Uranophane (who had forgotten to refuse).

"Hey, I know you!" she called out excitedly to the pirate girl, whom she recognized. "Aracelia from the third floor, right?" She lifted one hand to wave, then went back to fanning Uranophane.

More quietly, in a gentle, reassuring voice, she added, "Don't worry, Aracelia goes to this school. We know her."