Johanna
Bonks thread into existence

This place might be okay. A little bit okay, maybe, but still... Fine. It was one of the places she'd been in her life, and it had managed not to be the very worst. Which was nice. Well, not nice. Just... *Okay.* Which was apparently the word of the day. Because nothing had really been better than just barely *Okay* So far. Sure, it was cool the teachers let her leave when the burning and the writhing got bad, but the teachers couldn't exactly stop her back home either. Either way, it was a good break from the whole scolding whenever she went for a walk. Like right now.

And that tiny luxury of just being able to go for a walk when she wanted had cost her a less-than-voluntary move to Sweden. And, sure, she didn't have much back home, but she had Dad. Here she had... Classes. That was about it. Not exactly thrilling.

There was something to be said about not having to tiptoe around everywhere though. At least- not in the same way she used to. She had weird freak powers, everyone already knew that, and since they all had freak powers nobody was going to exactly make hers the topic of progressively more insane gossip until eventually someone decides to push their luck.

At least, she hoped not. It'd suck to go through that routine in fucking Sweden of all places. Never thought she'd end up here.

Speaking of her walk, however...

Where the hell was she? She'd wandered off about twenty minutes into her first class in this damned place, and apparently they had created a new labyrinth, and she was some kind of experimental minotaur. She sighed, looking around, and finding a hallway that looked like just about every other hallway, leading to classrooms that looked like every other classroom. People were filtering out of every door, so she assumed it was lunch, but, still. It'd be nice to know where she was, at least.

So, she'd stand there, gawking around and looking very obviously out of place, occasionally scratching at her arm frustratedly.
Shalonda
This place was a dump. A clinical, governmental dump that was more like *Sky High* Than *X-Men,* Which was possibly what pissed Ryn off the most – she didn't even feel cool. Walking through the facility felt like passing by groups of lab rats pretending they weren't being experimented on. She held onto her skepticism for dear life; it kept her sane, smart, *Alert.* Yes, that was the most pressing concern, they must not let their guard down. They would pass through this awful place as quickly as they could with as little turbulence as possible. That was the key to staying afloat here.

Though, she was warranted to have doubts of her own insight. Her own moments of weakness are what lead her here; she should've never cared for a confidant enough to harm, even maim another person, yet care she did. In the end, all – including Ryn – had learned one simple lesson: she was dangerous. It was a mistake that cost their entire life, leaving it behind to be contained in this facility. Yet, even now, they held no remorse, no regret – if prompted, they would do it all over again.

That is what puzzled Ryn upon the small bench in the hallway this lunch block, nibbling at a crudely made chicken salad sandwich. They had a tiny frame draped in a slouchy brown college hoodie, black denim shorts, knee-high houndstooth socks, and chunky black sneakers. Their chin-length hair was shaved on one side and messily swept over, and they had golden, wireframe, octagonal glasses, with a frayed houndstooth choker around their neck.

As a particularly lost looking girl stood relatively near the bench, a metallic barking sound seemed to emanate from the space beneath her. Beneath Ryn emerged three chrome orbs of differing sizes making the vague form of a small dog – the two spikes on the top orb resembling ears would likely confirm such suspicions. The girl on the bench seemed frustrated, placing the sandwich back in the tupperware on her lap and leaning over.

"Shut up, Syz." The metallic dog stopped barking and disappeared beneath the bench. Ryn didn't raise her head to the one it seemed 'Syz' was barking at, but she did state "Sorry. I'm working on making him smarter." Her voice was light, nasally, and almost monotone.
Johanna
Cameron thought of asking the tiny person sitting at a nearby bench where exactly she was, before she ended up catching a glimpse of a robotic form underneath them.

Okay. That was definitely... Interesting. Cool, definitely, and only a little unnerving. Less unnerving than what she could do, she supposed. At least- on the surface. She of all people would know that shit gets more unnerving under the surface of things. Maybe it was really messed up, or maybe this kid was just a genius. Either way-

Her thoughts were interrupted by a shrill, metallic bark, that caused her to immediately screw up her nose and put a hand over one of her ears, turning her head away. What she got for gawking, she supposed.

"Agh, damn— nah, s'fine. Dogs' are meant ta' be stupid. Only reason they'd ever like people," She'd joke with a wry expression, in a notable Scottish accent.

"Maybe tone down the bark a tiny bit though? Fer the sake of my ears, an' all..." She'd suggest, lowering her hand and looking back at the dog's owner.

Cameron herself was dressed in a light sweatshirt, whose sleeves only reached halfway down her forearms, a pair of running shoes, and basketball shorts. She usually dressed lightly. Dressing any heavier is hard when you feel like you're burning up all the time, even during a highland winter. Her musculature was visible on her lower forearms, and she seemed generally lean and very fit, rocking on the balls of her feet as if her body was trying to get her on the move again.
Shalonda
Today was a good day for their eyes. At least, palatable enough to eat outside their room, which was slowly beginning to smell a certain way as they spent more time alone. She loathed the snow and the bitter air – she already dealt with *Visual* Snow and had no love for physical snow regardless – and so she took to rotating between different spots in the facility in an unpredictable manner. The last thing Ryn wanted was to be the recipient of wayward expectancy.

Ryn replied with a mouthful of sandwich, which on closer inspection, was stuffed with indeterminate red hot spicy chips. "He's not supposed to be annoying. That's all on him." The orbicular machine beneath her seemed to rotate and momentarily separate. All three orbs floated upwards and hovered onto the bench beside her, taking the proportions of the small dog as before.

"If I wanted a stupid dog, I could've just swiped one from the street," They said clearly after finishing their bite. "He's an extremely complex paranormal machine. Maybe too complex." She patted the 'head' of the machine and the three orbs seemed to wind down, barely hovering above the bench next to her, organized in descending order.

"Anyway. You are lost. I can assist you when I finish eating this sandwich." Ryn then deferred to eating their sandwich in relative silence unless prompted to speak. Though they were averse to spending any more time interacting with others than what was necessary, they had an intimate knowledge of the facility grounds – perhaps they simply wanted to exercise their memory, yes, that was it.
Johanna
Cameron waited for the few moments Ryn was chewing for her reply, parting her gaze from the robotic dog back to a nearby window. The sight of snow was always a good one for her, as the cold that winter brought was one of the few reprieves from the feeling of burning-hot pebbles under her skin, which pathed through her veins to leave a painful sensation that felt irregular, spotty, and inevitable.

When Ryn replied, she'd just shrug, leaning up against the wall across from them.
"Eh. Guess you can't control everything about, eh... Extremely complex paranormal machines..." She'd say, as if that was a term she was acquainted with. Unless you *Could* Control everything about complex paranormal machines. Cameron hadn't the slightest clue, after all.

"But— eh... Nah, I'm not, really..." She said, starting to deny Ryn's observation out of habit, before looking around again, and scratching the back of her neck with a small sigh.

"Yeah, sure," She'd say, before falling silent to let Ryn eat in peace.
Shalonda
"If it can't be controlled, then it wasn't made right. Sometimes, he–..." They looked to the machine beside them in a momentary pause. "*It* Acts like a real dog. An annoying, barking, stupid dog." There was contempt in Ryn's voice. It was hard to read which part of the conundrum troubled her and which parts didn't. Unfortunately for the pair, she was an exceptionally slow eater, and despite having just a few bites of the sandwich left, it was a matter of minutes until she finally stood up.

"I can tell you're new. Sweden is far too cold for clothes like those." They held the empty tupperware in a football carry and rolled up one of their oversized sleeves. She spun a thick, silver-ish fidget ring on her index finger and a light whirring sound emanated from the ring. Six barely discernible drones were released into the air and circled around the cuff of the rolled-up sleeve by her elbow. 

"Do you know where you're supposed to be? Classes, a schedule; don't say *'home'* Or something." On this point she was oddly stern. Ryn thought it would be safer to nip any horrific conversation paths at the bud. Precautions were necessary when, historically speaking, she could barely console her Neopets.

What was perhaps perceivable when Ryn was sitting on the bench across the hallway was now obvious when they drew closer. There was a notable haziness in the center of their eyes most strikingly indicative of cataracts. The cloudiness did not overtake the entirety of the eyes, as the green hue was also perceivable beneath them, but it did appear that the right eye was hazier.