Section 14. International district of Tetrapolis; capital home of the freaks of the earth. After almost a half a year of gathering information, selling off his meager possessions, getting a flight, then the lengthy weeklong process of applying, purchasing, clearing, and waiting for housing, Daniel was ready to begin his new life.<br/><br/>The large Irishman set down his small backpack - the last thing he could really call his own - and looked at the cheap wooden door marked "12B". The least expensive apartment he could get, and it cost far more than the nicest flat he could have found back home. This nation was an economy of living space, and even with all the land set aside for this bizarre district of wunderkinds, he'd be bled dry before he had a chance to rest in an actual bed.<br/><br/>Damn... It had been a week since he'd laid down in a genuine bed. He'd had to make his way through sleeping between classes in the school buildings, or catching naps on park benches when he could. He'd heard there was a gang problem even in this insular psychic city, but Daniel had never really feared for his life since he discovered what his body was capable of.<br/><br/>Couldn't be any worse than Belfast was. At least here, he had a chance to make a new name for himself, to throw the dice again while the odds still somewhat favored him. Here, he'd be able to use his strengths openly, without terrifying women and children, and being constantly harassed by officers at his front door whenever some off-reservation psycher committed a crime. Even if it was a particularly outlandish psychic incident, like an immolation or mind invasion, it always meant questioning for him. Being the only meta-human on public record in Belfast was a burden even he couldn't shoulder.<br/><br/>Daniel unlocked and opened his door, sighing as he examined the minimalist use of space. It looked more like a hotel room than a flat - a large enough bed for his frame, a TV, and little else outside a kitchen and bathroom. He tossed his backpack to the wall, closed the door, and threw himself onto the mattress with a relieved gasp.<br/><br/>He clicked on the television for background noise. He was far too tired to translate what they were saying in his head, and he never was too good at speaking Japanese to begin with. News report, from the looks of it. Some pale German pretty-boy was tussling with a local. Real flashy - gliding and fire everywhere, with agitated chattering being thrown around by the newspeople.<br/>"Great. I'm guessing this won't do well in warming the locals up to another<span style="font-style: italic">Hakujin</span>..." He moaned, before relaxing his head down on the pillow.