Joel
June let their eyes rest, fixated on the stranger. They were definitely short, but when you were as tall as someone like June, it was to be expected. Finley pulled themselves upwards, and straightened out their posture. The same half opened book resting against their palm, a book June had no interest in. Their eyes remained stationary on Finley, running down the lanky androgynous frame they carried themselves with. They felt interest bloom in their chest, covering any doubt that chewed away at June. 

"You got it. Here I stand!" June responded. The kid looked, cold. June was used to rushes of warmth, sunshine smiles and bubbly responses. This kid was far from that. June almost felt pity. They listened intently to the way Finley spoke. They responded in short succinct bursts, each word felt like freezing rain, depressing but with visible conviction. It didn't take long for them to string together something of meaning. A name! *Finley?* Recognition was set ablaze inside the messy auditorium of their mind. They *Had* Met them online. The other nonbinary kid who hated the nicknames June had called them. 

"Oh! You're Finley! We have met online. Im June, but of course you know that."
_ _

Their upbeat tempo remained unwavering. The same sickeningly sweet tone coated over each word. A rush of confidence followed June wherever they went, it lingered between sentences, along their features and boomed in strong bursts through their body language. June interlaced their hand in with Finley's. A strong solid hold, much more than they meant. With a few shakes, and a welcoming smile, June let their hand fall back to their side. Peering down at Finley, June realized the lanky limbs holding them up. Contrasting the kid in front of them, June had broad muscular features and thicker legs which remained visible. Their outfit was incredibly causal, A soft colourful sweatshirt draped over their torso, the collar falling below the base of their neck. Alongside fluffy socks and black athletic shorts, their hair was pinned back with various charms. A sun and heart rested neatly between the strands, sitting pretty and perfect beside each other. Even when they weren't trying, June never failed to capture the attention of those around them. They were basically eye candy, being thrown out towards anyone who dared turn their way. June adored this, and seeing Finley's eyes on them was no surprise. Their eyes drew June in. Soft deep pools of electrifying blue, peering back into June's almost pitch black gaze. 

"What are you doing in here? Didn't look like work." June teased. The same curiosity fluttered in their ribcage, a swarm of butterflies made their home between their bones. June lived life on their feet, running as fast as possible wherever their wild mind steered them, and today was no less than that. They went where they wanted, and now decided to jump head first into this interaction without a second thought. Being a chronic performer who basked in the gaze of a spotlight, improvisation was one of June's talents. Able to go with the flow and ride the wave wherever it takes them. 
_ _

As June awaited a response, they kept thinking about Finley. Over the internet they seemed blunt and boring to a fault. Dense and condescending, someone who didn't seem to agree with June's behaviour. June knew some other person would see this as a perfect reason to ignore Finley, but they were bored and needed something or someone to entertain them. And Finley, had volunteered.
Rebecca
Volunteered, or been volun-told?

June was upbeat to a fault, dense, ditzy, spinning, some sort of sugar-coated, too-sweet façade that sprinkled glitter around their feet and powdered sugar across the air. Rotten smile, then, Finley supposed, teeth rotting out of their skull with each cherry-picked grin and dazzling smirk. Overall - Finley hardly recognized the glamor in themself. They preferred a bitter reality, they supposed - how terrible of them, to anchor themself in things that never brought them joy. Their hands disconnected. 

*"You're practically anemic,"* Nadia had said once, commenting on how cold Finley's skin was. Their fingers were always chilled, forehead always cool. When lightning poured through their veins, then, there, they were, at last, warm. And how destructive it was to be warm, to oneself and the rest. A loose sweater sat slung over their frame, something old, worn, dark gray, reaching towards their wrists and folded over, a pair of awkward, beaten tennis shoes digging into their calves as they sat criss-cross. They did take into account how different June looked from them.

They looked happy.

Finley wondered if June was happier than they were. 

"You don't seem to be either," Finley drawled, leaning back against a too-straight bookshelf. They sat the still closed book in their lap, squishing their thumb against the pages. They held up the book. "I was reading, if you must know. It's a classic."

*Good God, Finley, don't mansplain.*

Improvisation hardly came natural to Finley. Conversations were games of chess, carefully selected moves and pieces moved forward, questions, challenges, anger stirring in their mouth like the lightning in their chest. Backwards, murmured words, something soft and downy between their teeth, rarities, saved for loved ones, careful little knickknacks polished and placed on shelves, cleared away after years of discontentment. Diagonal negations, sideways snarks and biting, bitten lips and snapping teeth, the kind of elusive anger their mother wore like a crown that sunk her head to her shoulders. But the jewels glittered to Finley's attention, so they wore it.

June, the person who kept attaching them to those tactless nicknames. Fin, Finny, anything of the like. It almost made them roll their eyes on the spot to think of it. Finley didn't like nicknames. They had gone through enough names to reach this one, and had no inclinations to further challenge it - they were lucky that Newton's Cradle had even accepted it without much question, said nothing when it scarcely matched what came on any legal documents, instead penning in the name they chose for themself on every piece of paperwork their mother and the court signed. Thin pressed lips spoke silent words of discontent, but the pen conquered, and Finley Carlisle lived on. 

They sat the book back down, dragging their free hand in circles across the carpet. Static sparked between their fingertips, the smell of singed carpet causing them to stop. They sighed. 
Best not to start another fire.

"I don't really care for the nicknames," They said. "They aren't much my thing. Just Finley will do."
Joel
June sat themselves right next to Finley. They fell down onto their legs, resting their free hand on their thigh. The cold of their fingertips sunk through their skin. In the other, June aimlessly swirled the half full energy drink, listening to the soft swish of liquid. Personal space was not something they had even begin to grasp, let alone care enough to follow. If told to move, June would give the other space, but they had a nasty habit of always assuming people would welcome their company with open arms. 

"No, I'm not doing work either. I was bored." 

June let out a snicker. A hyena-like cackle that fell under their breath. They leaned back slightly, but remained fixated on Finley. The kid held up a book, and June shot forward. Their black eyes filled with wonder. One may even assume June had never seen a book before. Of course they had, but this one was *New.* New was so interesting to June, tantalizing even. They were enamoured with the idea of experiencing everything life had to offer, and went about it with their own chaotic brand of pandemonium. Letting out a soft hum, June stared at the cover, before falling back into their resting position. 

"Looks boring!" 
_ _

They said in a cheery tone, a tinge of a Japanese accent bounced between the English syllables. It didn't sound malicious, but not genuine either. It was incredibly hard to gauge what June was trying to portray. Were they being sarcastic? June let their smile linger, depending on how the other would perceive their intentions fully depended on how open they were to new people. Suspicious people never got along with June, since they had a habit of leaving too many strings untied. 

June took a swig of their drink to fill the empty space between sentences. They never found things awkward necessarily, but Finley was surprisingly good at snuffing out June's attempts. No matter, it didn't bother them. June would never quit unless directly told to go away, and until Finley pulled those words together in perfect diction, June will remain stationary right here beside them. The next few words Finley said managed to make June's head tilt again. 

"Oh-" June let out another snicker. "My bad! Didn't know it was that big of a deal! Ill stop but y'know June was actually a nickname for me, and then it became my *Actual* Name! So sometimes they can be good! Maybe I just got the good ones." 

Their smile was welcoming and warm, beckoning Finley to let their guard down and join them in the sunbathed field of tranquility. June *Was* Happy. Thats what they told people, and a part of them did believe that. And despite everything, June couldn't help but want to grab someone by the hand, intertwine their fingers, and drag them out into the adventurous wonders life had to offer.
Rebecca
"Excuse you, Oscar Wilde was a genius."

Finley once believed in enamorment, in the gorgeous splender of relentless persecution, but the anathema of understanding had shed their excitement like pebbles into the river. Finley knew then, at once, that they could never be like June, for they only craved the silence.

Quiet mornings spent over teas and coffees, murmured affections, long evenings spent pouring over books, gentle hands and gentler kindness. Something easy. Something soft. The fires had burned long enough. Finley only craved the way the forest grew back after, the way little leaves of green crawled their way through the charred earth with a steady song of belief, the peace that came from sunlight soaking into their frigid hands and how the birds sounded as they cried out for something so similar. All of nature, it seemed, cried out it's deepest nature. 

And humans, they cried out for love in nearly every action, every waking moment, their voices, their minds cried for endearment, for love, for attention, for connection, some little piece inside never wholly satiated by the conviction of devout attention.

"Hello," Finley said, June's feet clacking against their legs. They were tense, tight as a bowstring. Physical touch had never been their particular affinity. "Must you sit so close?"

And, ah, the names. Finley chose their name, too. 

"I'm pleased for you," They said, something of a sigh in their voice. They resumed biting at their nail, a habit they'd long since tried to quit. 

But, June was relentlessly friendly, so, Finley tried at least soften their expression. A smile may have been there, if June looked hard enough.
Joel
June let out a laugh at Finley's response. The cackle echoed through the empty study room, and made June's chest reverberate with sound. Not even taking a second to wonder if the kid was joking. A genius? Seemed like some old guy they had never heard of. June felt no need to focus on the past. Sure there were *'lessons to be learned,'* But June found learning from experience much more valuable. Whatever, they weren't one to bash on what others found interesting, that was rather uncharacteristic of them. 

"Ah yes right, *My apologies.*" 

A snicker fell through their teeth. With an almost mocking tone, this was definitely sarcastic. They weren't sorry at all. June felt no need to get all strung up over a couple words, they weren't being mean and so they felt no need to apologize. No matter, June never hung on a thought for longer than a couple seconds. It was of no importance to them. All they could hope is that what fell short of relevance to them, was not imperative to Finley. 

June's was pulled out from the aimless swishing of their drink like a fish on a hook. Their eyes widened and they immediately moved backwards about a foot, giving Finley the space they questioned. Almost a second of embarrassment visible through the confident facade June wore with such pride. They sputtered a small apology under their breath and took a quick sip of their drink to cover their tracks. The same sting nothing short of refreshing coating their tastebuds in an explosion of metallic flavours. Over the rim of the can, June could barely recognize a soft smile on Finley's features. A part of them wondered if maybe they were just reaching for any sign their presence wasn't a bore. 
_ _

"Ah yes. It was quite the story actually. My original nickname was Jester, and then slowly it morphed into June! Although, a lot of my friends still call me Jester, which can be confusing to some."

June practically used giggles as punctuation. Laughter underlined each word. Their behaviour was lively and eccentric, and even contagious to some. The way June eased through conversation, dancing across sentences with the same grace they used in their acrobatic performances. They also liked to ramble, specifically about themselves. Some would describe June has egocentric, others said plain confident. June had many opinions floating around their head, almost everyone had someone to say about how they behaved. June couldn't help but wonder if Finley was the same. Did others have opinions about them too? They wondered what kind of things the ever seeing public eye would have to say about someone so blatantly opposite to June. 

"Is there a particular reason you don't like nicknames? I think they are rather harmless."

June was definitely prying, but that didn't even begin to bear importance in their mind. It kept the conversation going, didn't it? They were never the kind of person to be quick to a point, they didn't care for summarization. June wondered if Finley was that kind of person. They already seemed so professional, even when speaking to someone like June, who looked like a lost birthday clown.
Marsha
Along with other students in class, Raizel would be found alone in the far back corner with the other antisocial kids. This was pottery class and the entire room filled with teen hormones which stung her nose. The glowing eyes on her mask close half ways when she listened with a bored expression. As soon as the clay was presented, it caught her interest that brought her examining it curiously. She scoops a small dab with her gloved hand before plopping it into her mouth to taste it. Hmmm. Its a little different compare to back home.
Andrew
The kids next to Rai noticed her eating clay, but mostly kept their snickering to themselves. Graham noticed, too.

He'd been expecting that sort of thing. This girl had been a handful when she asked for the classes, let alone now that she'd actually be taking them, but Graham had expected that. This was the kind of girl that made him seriously wonder if she was raised by wolves - not that he was even supposed to ask.

He walked up to Rai and gave her a sort of awkward half-grin. "You're, uh... You're not supposed to eat it." His voice was hushed enough that no one else could hear his attempt at trying to get Raizel to behave like a normal human. "Just follow along with me, okay? Can you see me up there from down here?"
Marsha
The clay had a weird flavor to it that was different from the river bank she was use to messing with. Pottery wasn't her strongest suit since the clay was mostly played with like playdough when she was a small kid. She didn't care about the other kids snickering in the background as she tasted the sample. Raizel turned to the voice above where she blinked her glowing pale eyes. Next thing she did was spit the gunk out on the floor like an expert. And it hit hard with a smack. "M-Mhm.." She timidly nodded to Graham.
Andrew
Graham internally sighed. He'd have to clean that up. But he smiled and nodded at Rai anyway, and went back up to the front of the class, clasping his hands together.

"Alright! We have a lot of new people here today, so those of you who've been taking this class for a while, you might not get help as fast as you're used to. If you have a project you've been working on, you can keep working on that, and..."

He paused and looked Rai in the eye. It made it pretty clear that he was talking to her. "The rest of you, try to follow along, okay? What we're gonna be working on today is a relatively simple project to start us off. We're gonna be making a simple vase today. It doesn't have to look exactly like mine..."

Graham continued like that for a while, occasionally pausing to make sure Rai was doing okay and to answer questions. From the lump of clay, something resembling a vase was beginning to take shape... At least for Graham's lump of clay.
Marsha
Raizel was low-key excited that she was actually taking a crafting class. It reminded her of the high school near the reservation where students had fun making stuff and bringing it home to show it off to their families and friends. She did pay attention to Graham as he instructed the entire class behind his desk. Rai was in awe when she seen a lump of clay beginning to take shape. Molding itself as it spun on that weird contraption. As she tried to follow along the tutorial, this made her begin thinking more as she is molding the claw in her hands. It reminded her how she is able to semi-transform into a totem monster. What if she is able to take on a full fledge transformation? The thought lingered until she begins to wonder about her true origins. Who was her parents? Did she had any? And the clay was beginning to take shape into a vase when she was getting into the zone. It was beginning to spin too fast until it splattered out of shape, some of it masking across her eyes. "Eeeek!" Raizel yelped, keeping her eyes closed.
Andrew
Noticing something was wrong, Graham approached Raizel in the back of the class again. These things happened... Sometimes.

He took a look at the pottery, or what was left of it. It wasn't a lot, but even from the remnants, it had apparently been progressing relatively well. He couldn't help but smile a little at that. She was doing okay.

Still, he didn't see exactly what had happened, and the clay over her eyes was... A concern. "Are you alright? Did any of it get in your eyes?"
Marsha
Raizel was trying to wipe the gunk off with the back of her arm which only smeared it some more. "A-A little b-b-b-it..." She stammered, obviously looking uncomfortable. There was grit under her eye lashes that wanted to get right into her eye. Rai continued to try wiping it away but it requires her to remove her mask to wash the clay off.
Andrew
Graham nodded. "C'mon, we'll get that washed out. The pottery isn't going anywhere." He took a moment to wait for Rai to get out of her seat, then followed her out into the hall toward the nearest bathroom. *These things happen*, he kept thinking to himself. *These things happen.* He wasn't quite sure why.

"Are you gonna be okay?"
Marsha
Raizel attempts to crack open her eyes but winced when she felt a small sting. She felt around the desk with memory where to go when she first got up from her seat. Raizel bumped into her chair as she followed Graham's voice, trying her best to not collide into any students and other projects in the class. When the scene skips to the bathroom, Raizel was still trying to wipe away the clay gunk from her shut eyes. "Y-yeah... It stings... C-c-c-can't see w-w-w-ell.." She stuttered, causing her mask to rattle nervously as she quivered.
Andrew
"Hey." Graham's voice was hushed, almost a whisper. "Hey. I have some eyewash here, okay?" He took a quick moment to peruse the instructions, then removed the cap from the bottle of eyewash and handed it to Rai. "There's, like, a little cup on it. You hold the bottle upright and put your eye in there, then squeeze the bottle a little so the water touches your eye. Got it?"

He tried his best to sound optimistic, but... Eyewash was usually a hard sell to people who *Weren't* Feral. People don't tend to like the thought that you get stuff out of your eyes by putting other stuff in.
Marsha
"Hhhhhhrnnn..." Rai didn't sound very convinced after hearing his instructions. "Th-This also means I have to remove m-my mask..." She didn't sound all delighted by that fact. An annoyed click, click, click sound came from her that sound very alien-like. There was a battle of self-consciousness and fear struggling with courage and urgency that conflict with her decisions. Behind the mask, a pair of wood like ears poked out behind her wooden mask. Her hands begin to morph into claws that cracked as it takes on a claw-like appearance. "I-I really don't g-get the point of that th-thing c-called eyewash."
Andrew
"Hey. It's okay. I can go if that helps, okay?" Graham carefully put his hand on Rai's shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. He was always so careful with her. Too careful. Like he was scared. Or she was.

He kept reminding herself she wasn't an animal.

"It's for washing the clay out, okay? You can't let the clay stay in your eyes. It won't hurt. I promise."
Marsha
It was a moment with that saying about a frightening creature,"Its more scared of you than you are to it," Scenerio. "Ugh... Just h-help me, okay!" And she placed her clawlike hand over her mask to reveal that both her eyes got clayed on.
Andrew
Graham took a deep breath. He preferred not to be very hands-on, but...

He brushed the worst of the clay off Rai's eyes, then gently took the eyewash from her hand. "Look down at the floor, okay? Open your eyes."

...

A few minutes later, with the clay out of Raizel's eyes, Graham went to dispose of the eyewash. He stopped in the doorway. "...It's okay. These things happen, okay? Go ahead and hop back in to the classroom, I'll be right with you. We still have most of the period left to work on your vase if you want."

He gave her a quick smile, and then he was out of sight.
Marsha
She nearly went beast mode when she was growing impatient with the ick in her eyes. Raizel tried her best to behave herself and not panic when Graham washed the clay from her eyes. At first, she seen a blurr before it smeared back into place. Relieved, Rai thanked him before going back to class with her mask on as she proceed to finish her work. Of course she doesn't want to give up on the project that she just started!