<strong>Name:</strong>Tommy Nakamura<br/><strong>Nom De Guerre:</strong>Windfall<br/><strong>Position/Grade:</strong>Student/Junior<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Hall of Oracles - Auditorium<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>No one in particular, unless you think Tommy would be lucky to meet you<br/><hr/><br/>Being back at school was good.  It was harder to stay in fighting shape without Captain Indestructible getting on his case or the Wolf kicking his ass, and not having to pretend to have no powers was an even easier thing.  Not that the power he could actually control was the greatest thing since sliced bread (although it did make the greatest sliced bread).<br/><br/>Tommy had found the perfect seat.  He'd gotten there early-ish (nodding to a few people he knew) and passed up the aisle seats anyway, since he was still pretty scared to look like a slacker in front of the staff, but of course it was the perfect seat.  Or at least a pretty good one.  No one taller than him would sit right in front of him, and there was little doubt someone interesting would sit down nearby.  He hoped.  It didn't always work how he wanted.  (Some of the teachers said he'd learn to control it someday.  Tommy had his doubts.)<br/><br/>In the meantime, he amused himself by glancing around to see who was eager for assembly to be over because they were hungry.<em>Chicago dog, extra sport peppers.  Ulster fry, hold the kidney.  Tom yam kung nam khon just like his mom used to make.  Poutine with the cheese curds deep-fried.  Cantonese-style roast goose with thousand-year egg on the side.</em>Well then.  He glanced to the stage -- it was always hilarious to learn the tastes of his instructors.  The actual telepathic kids would probably never dare mess with the staff, but it wasn't like a strong will could protect you from an appetite-reader.