<strong>Name</strong>:Brandon St. Clair (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132556.msg6773050#msg6773050)<br/><strong>Nom De Guerre</strong>: Wingfoot<br/><strong>Position</strong>: Student - 2nd year<br/><strong>Location</strong>Cafeteria<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>:Nurse Brentwood<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>Black Adidas exercise pants, and purple t-shirt with a yellow star and stylized "Nebula - 2012" in a circle around the star, recently purchased cross-trainers( Mizuno )<br/><br/>The room seemed a bit brighter than he liked and it smelled...clean...so much so that the smell almost hurt his nose, except there was also the smell of Nurse Brentwood to deal with.  It was perfume and lotions and creams and all the things that women put on their bodies and in the end, the scent of her was enough to make his brain turn into a puddle and that was without actually looking at her.<br/><br/>If he had thought the cheerleader had been sexy...Nurse Brentwood made the cheerleader look like a boy in comparison.  He couldn't help but wonder if thinking about sex all the time was another problem unique to him or if all the teenage guys around here were as ravenous as he was...not that he had a wealth of experience...or any for that matter, but that almost made it worse.  Often he wondered if he could just get the sex over with...he could get back to thinking about...<br/><br/><em><strong>"...it says here your mother had special treatments to help with your conception and then after you hit puberty your powers manifested? Is this correct?"</strong></em><br/><br/>He blinked and gave her an odd look...looking away from Nurse Brentwood allowed him to actually think about things other than Nurse Brentwood.  His parents...before they had been taken; his parents had told him to speak to no one about what transpired.  About what happened or what he could do...but they hadn't prepared him for a time when he would have Neutron as a "legal guardian" of sorts and be staying at a swank, insane high school resort for super teens.  His first instinct to just not say anything.<br/><br/>Clam up.<br/><br/>His second instinct was that of a teenage boy around a gorgeous woman.  Maybe be honest?  Maybe tell her everything he knows and impress her?<br/><br/>Impressing her.  The social equivalent of popping a wheelie on his bicycle to impress a girl.<br/><br/>He gave her a small, nervous smile, shaking his head slightly as he spoke.  "No...I'm good...and uh...yeah.  My mom got treatments..."   , he frowned a moment as he thought about it.  Thought about the night a team was sent to get him and instead, his parents made him run.  "Globaldyne.  They're called Globaldyne.  They did something to my mom and then...yeah...I'm the way I am.  They have her you know.  Her and my dad.  They have my parents and...I don't know if..."<br/><br/><em>Don't say it.  If you don't say it...you don't have to think about it.</em><br/><br/><strong>"And me...I...I think there were times when I was little that my...abilities would kindof do their thing but yeah...around my thirteenth birthday, things started getting crazy."</strong>