Noah huffed another laugh as they took their seats, juggling his plate and his coffee to snag a few napkins and a shaker of cinnamon. "I can guarantee, my suit does<i>not</i>have a cape." He snickered, dumping a liberal amount of cinnamon and sugar in his tall mocha, and another spattering of cinnamon on his cinnamon bun. One of the perks, and curses, of his ability was a frighteningly fast metabolism. Noah had easily demolished entire large pizzas by himself in his freshman year, and his appetite had only increased as he aged. A cinnamon bun the size of his face was a mere snack between meals.<br/><br/>He wished he could tell Shy the ins-and-outs. He wished he could tell<i>anyone</i>. But fine details outside of 'the Core' could get him in serious trouble. He had probably already said too much as it was, but Shy had been his best friend before he'd gone into the Program. If he couldn't tell him who could he tell?<br/><br/>As he picked his first large bite off the bun with his fingertips (instead of a fork), he quietly bobbed his head. He was glad Shy finally got to be away from his parents. Noah could count the number of times he'd met them on one hand and- well, all parents were different he guessed. His largely never interacted with Shiloh at all, but that could be said about most people. He hadn't even spoken to them since getting out of the program.<br/><br/>"Dang, see? Still smart as heck." Noah marveled, "You're going for Grad school?" He leaned into the conversation, "You'd kick a-" Dangit, he was supposed to get into the habit of not cussing so he never did it in front of the press,"-butt. What kind of engineering?" He shoved another mouthful in, managing to smear cinnamon halfway across his right cheek in the process.