Fuzzy, Christina, Sasha, Sonya and Ross - Monday, July 23rd, 2074 - Morning - Blake Island

Fuzzy was interested in Sammy the Salmon for all of a few seconds, but grew bored of it almost immediately. In order to see the presentation, including the boring, talking fish, she had to wear those goggles that Julian gave her. Few others wore goggles like her and instead wore smart glasses, which some students had taken off in order to check out of the presentation or wore something that lit up their eyes just a little, which Fuzzy would later learn were smart contact lenses.

The black goggles that she wore were too tight on her face. So with the practice of someone who was deeply familiar with gas masks, she touched the back of the goggles to see if she could fix it without looking at it, solely with her sense of touch. When she couldn't figure it out immediately, she held her breath, pulled the goggles off her head and took a look at the back. This was completely out of habit from her time among the Puyallup barrens ash drifts where sucking in a lungful of ash would ruin your day- And your lungs if you breathed the fine, volcanic ash too often. She took in the strap in an instant, readjusted it, put her goggles back on and then let out her breath slowly through her nose and teeth. Every action she'd performed had been drilled into her since before she could remember, as natural as breathing, or in this case, not breathing until it was safe to do so.

With her goggles secured, she continued to ignore the assembly and instead tried to handle the fear and paranoia at being disarmed. She'd asked for three things: Porks, new ends and Puppy. However, she felt like some things were just so implied that going without them was insanity. So she hadn't negotiated for her weapons. She had no bow, no arrows, no spear, no knife and no traps. This, she felt, was her number one problem.

She wasn't big and she barely had any magic yet, so she wondered how she was supposed to defend herself. First, she'd been worried about animal predators. Julian had told her on their walk around the island that there just wasn't enough land to support any large predators like a grey wolf or a grizzly bear, which she learned much about in detail later. And they'd spoken about this at length on their four mile walk around the island's breaches and trails Fuzzy had so many questions, but she'd only asked a handful. These places, the forest, the beach, the ocean, it was all so alien to her and all of the new sights, smells and sounds distracted her to no end. It was all alien and beautiful and teeming with life and it felt right in a way that she couldn't quite grasp. Blake Island was so unlike the ash drifts of the barrens.

No, what worried her were the people, who in her experience were worse than animal predators. The people who surrounded her right now at the assembly were people with magic and she'd never seen so many people in one place before without weapons. At first she'd simply assumed that they hid them on their person. A knife in a boot or a pistol in the waistband of the jeans, hidden by a shirt or what was more popular for women where she came from, a razor blade hidden in the fattier parts of the cheek to use as a surprise weapon against attackers.

But the more she looked for and wondered about secret weapons among these "students" as Julian had called them, the more she realized that none of them were armed. After all, if they were armed, at least some of them would display their weapons openly. Being unarmed among friends was one thing, but these were strangers- Untrusted people. This fact baffled Fuzzy even though she'd been told by Julian and Rat Man that this was the norm in other parts of the Metroplex. She hadn't believed it until she'd seen it.

"So weird," muttered Fuzzy, to herself.

The audience, who had been listening to the presentation and talking amongst themselves began to halfheartedly clap as two people mounted a small, elevated platform in front of all of them. Even though she knew that there were no predators and that there were no ghouls at school and that they were all unarmed, the sudden noise set her teeth on edge.

"Hi! I'm Sonya!" said a smiling, young, human Latina girl.

Sonya was tall. Taller than any woman she'd seen before, though as she thought about it many people here were tall. Her hair was dark and long, her face finely featured, her eyes dark, her skin light in its color. She didn't seem to be visibly armed. No scars. Pretty. Fuzzy wondered if she belonged to someone. That was often the case with pretty people in Puyallup. Gang leaders would occasionally have these pretty people close to them as a way of showing off their power and prestige, though she had as little to do with the gangs as possible so she'd only seen them from afar.

Sonya was waving with both hands to everyone and smiling big and broad with her teeth, which set Fuzzy's own teeth to grinding. Predators showed their teeth. She wore the same thing everyone else wore. Something that Julian called a "school uniform", which Fuzzy had also been provided. They were dark blue shorts and a light green shirt with the insignia of the island on it. Apparently all of the teens wore the "school uniform". Gangs did that, Fuzzy reasoned. Normal people wore whatever they could, but to Fuzzy, these were definitely gang colors.

On the other side of the platform stood a pretty looking blond haired, elven Caucasian man.

"I'm Ross!" called the smiling, elven teen.

Ross' blond hair was short cut. That was just good sense. Long hair like that Sonya girl was begging to be pulled in a fight. No hair means no leverage to be dragged down. He was quite muscular, though muscular in a bulky way. Fuzzy wondered just how slow he was. He had bright eyes and strong features, but like Sonya, he also had no scars. She wondered how he’d gotten so big without getting any scars.

Then Ross smiled as well, displaying his own straight, white teeth. One set of perfect teeth was strange to her, but both sets of teeth being perfect meant something, though Fuzzy couldn't put her finger on what that meant and this fascinated her.

Being too pretty was dangerous. It called attention to you and attention made you a target, not that either seemed to care. The two teens hugged in a strange, side armed way without looking at one another, but instead at the audience. They must have deeply trusted one another since neither watched what the other was doing. They just smiled and showed their teeth to the crowd while most crowd sort of clapped unenthusiastically, though some clapped hard as they seemed to have admirers. Someone even whistled in excitement.

"This is weird," whispered Fuzzy, urgently, "I don't like it. They're loud."

"Way too loud," griped Kenji.

"Whatever," said Julie.

It seemed Julie didn't take the threat seriously, but Fuzzy looked to Kenji and nodded ever so slightly. He didn’t look like much to her, but she didn’t look like much either. She knew that looks could be deceiving and those that deceived lived another day. Kenji nodded back which she decided was good.

"We just want to say welcome to everyone!" exclaimed Ross, "We were in charge of the junior cabins last year and we're honored and flattered to be chosen again this year. Not just for the seniors, but for everyone. If you need someone, look to us. We can help you."

Now it made sense to Fuzzy. The Kab-Eenz were a gang and Ross and Sonya had been charge of the junior gang members. Apparently they'd done well by their gang and were now senior members. The fact that they were still young didn't phase Fuzzy. In the Puyallup barrens and in most of the metroplex, gang members didn't have a long life expectancy.

"Which gang are the Kab-Eenz?" whispered Fuzzy.

"I'll tell you later," answered Kenji, immediately.

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Julie looked at her incredulously and then burst into a fit of resonant giggles. She was shushed by a teacher and she immediately stopped and looked down at the ground. That teacher was a short, older, tan skinned, severe looking human woman with a large braid. She must be tough to be so old. Fuzzy kept quiet while Julie continued to keep her eyes down.

"We hope you have a wonderful year at Blake Island and hope you learn a lot," said Sonya, "We're sad that this is our last year, but we hope you'll make it count like we have!"

They said a few more things that didn't make much sense to Fuzzy, but Ross mentioned something that piqued her interest.

"...And there's going to be a bonfire tonight!" he exclaimed, "Make sure to come by. It's tradition after all!"

They waved and stepped off the platform. More people talked, but Fuzzy stayed silent and thought. This must be the Kab-Eenz ritual initiation. She'd never been in a gang but she would occasionally see them while on a hunt. She'd once seen the beat downs new members got. It had been two minutes of kicking and punching the would be ganger. Afterwards the injured and bloodied man was hauled up, given a drink, some drugs and then hugged and patted on the back when he got up. She’d heard that not everyone involved in a beat down got up. Most did, but not always. Perhaps there would be some sort of branding? She’d heard of those too.

Apparently she'd missed something as she tried to make sense of her situation. She hadn’t paid attention, because everyone was up and milling about, the assembly now over. She'd lost Kenji and Julie in the crowd. Suddenly panicked now that she had no weapons and not even a possible ally she cast about for any familiar face, but she couldn't even see Julian. It didn't help that Fuzzy was five feet tall. Everyone here was taller than her by at least a head and usually much more, so she couldn't see over the crowd, only into it.

She drew someone else though. Another pretty girl who approached her through the crowd. Though almost everyone here was on the spectrum of pretty, beautiful or handsome. There was not a single plain or ugly person besides maybe one or two of the adults that she'd noticed, which was just another bizarre thing about this place. But this pretty person was an elf which was made obvious by her pointed ears. She was tall and had no scars. Her hair was long and red and hung straight down, her skin as pale as milk and her eyes were a light blue. She was somewhat chubby with a round face and this made her stand out as few of the others were overweight.

"I have to ask," drawled the girl, "Who does your hair?"

"Does?" asked Fuzzy.

The girl slowly stalked around her like a predator, sizing her up. Fuzzy tracked her with her eyes, and when she was about to disappear out of sight Fuzzy turned to face her and squared her shoulders when the girl stopped.

"Oh dear, I mean...It looks like someone cuts your hair with a knife," she said in a stage whisper.

A few people behind the elf giggled at the show. Fuzzy turned her head towards them, eyes fixed, but not taking her attention fully away from this stranger. Apparently the look she shot them stifled those giggles. One even stepped back, which Fuzzy decided was good. Fuzzy flicked her eyes back to the girl.

"It is cut with a knife," said Fuzzy, "I cut it."

"I think they should've taken a little more," she teased, "It's a mess."

"Of course it's a mess. They took my knives from me. I can't fix it without a knife."

Fuzzy figured that admitting to this fact was okay as no one here seemed to have a weapon. In fact, having a weapon might make her stand out which is something she didn't want to do. Perhaps they didn't need weapons because they all had magic?

"I meant your hair, sweetheart,” said the girl, “Maybe...Even it out a little? Maybe I could introduce you to my stylist. I'm Christina. And you are?"

"Fuzzy," she said, tersely.

Christina threw back her head dramatically and let out a mock sigh.

"The dumbest name I've heard all day," she said, and rolled her eyes, "I'm somehow not surprised."

In a fit of teenage cheek, Christina reached out to try and ruffle Fuzzy's hair, like one might touch a child or a pet. Out of learned reflex, Fuzzy struck her wrist with the blade of her hand before Christina's hand got too close. Not hard, but just enough to drive home the point that she was not to be touched. The girl winced and pulled hair hand back. Suddenly the predator act was gone. All that was left was someone who obviously looked like a victim.

"Owww..." whined Christina, who pitched her voice a little louder than before, "What was that for?"

Christina looked around for...Something or someone, Fuzzy wasn't sure. And she rubbed theatrically at her wrist. The slightest push back had turned this Christina person from a predator to a victim. Why would anyone willingly act like a victim and even more confusingly, why had it been so easy? Acting weak meant someone was far more likely to prey on that weakness. Still, all that Fuzzy could do was show her own strength. If someone like this bizarre person victimized her, no doubt that others would try as well.

"Don’t touch me," said Fuzzy, firmly.

Fuzzy waited for Christina or whomever she belonged to to protect her, or perhaps for her to use some sort of magic on Fuzzy, but to her surprise, nothing happened.

"The teachers didn't see, Christina," said one of small knot of giggling girls, her tone a little exasperated, as if this wasn't the first time she'd talked to Christina this way, "And obviously no one cares."

Christina immediately dropped the persona of victim, stopped rubbing her wrist and looked coolly at Fuzzy.

"You little bitch," snapped Christina, "How dare you hit me? No, how dare you even fucking touch me?"

Fuzzy had been told that things were different outside of the barrens, but not this different. She did know about bullies, though they were usually armed and folded only after some violence, but not this little. But she'd been challenged. So all she could do was respond.

"Christina. You are too pretty," said Fuzzy, slowly.

"What?" she asked, taken aback, "Are you flirting or someth-"

Fuzzy began to stalk around her now, putting Christina's earlier act as a predator to shame by comparison. Christina seemed to sense something about the way that Fuzzy moved and stopped talking. In fact, she stayed very still. Even the small group of girls stopped giggling.

"Your hair is long," continued Fuzzy, "Your arms are thin. Your hands look soft. You look as if you display your body for others. You are fat and don't look as if you earned it. If you had any magic to speak of you would have used it by now. So I do not think you will survive long. If this is your strange way of looking for a protector, understand that I will not protect those who look unable to protect themselves. You will only get yourself and others killed. Stay away from me."

She stopped in front of Christina, the dressing down complete. Stunned silence followed in the seconds after. Then what came afterwards weren’t giggles or snickers, but a roar of laughter from the other assembled girls. Great guffaws of laughter. Rippling peels. One even doubled over and clutched at her stomach and another hugged her and used her as a balance. A few other teens drew closer to ask what was going on. Not just girls as before, though they approached too, but young men as well, all of them asking what just happened.

Christina's face turned scarlet with impotent rage. Though this didn't matter to Fuzzy in the slightest. She was weak after all and Fuzzy turned her back on her in a sign of open disrespect. It was a scathing insult from the Puyallup barrens. A way of telling someone that they were so weak that someone could turn their back on them and not be harmed.

"Tell me you were recording that," said one girl, "Please, if there is a god you were recording that, Sasha."

"Bitch, I record everything," said the girl, who was apparently Sasha, "Nice one new girl. What's your name?"

"Fuzzy," said Fuzzy, her back still turned on Christina.

Christina stalked away, thoroughly humiliated. Normally if she were to challenge Fuzzy to regain her pride she would have struck at her, or at least shoulder checked her. Nothing came and so Fuzzy totally disregarded her as a weakling.

"I've never seen someone fuck up Christina like that," exclaimed Sasha, "Nice!"

"I barely touched her," said Fuzzy, her tone confused.

"You could've fooled me. Want to get lunch together sometime?"

The other girl turned to look at Sasha.

"Okay, fun is fun," said the other girl, "But you want to catch lunch with the weird girl?"

"That moment made this lame assembly into the best one,” retorted Sasha, “Way better than last year."

Sasha wasn't pretty. At least not pretty enough to fight over. She was thin, with shoulder length black hair, caramel colored skin, a thin nose and a big smile, but no scars though. Fuzzy relaxed. Not totally, but more than she had before.

"Lunch is good," said Fuzzy, "I was told there'd be porks."

"Porks?" asked Sasha.

"Bacon,” corrected Fuzzy.

"Carnivore, huh?" asked Sasha, "I see you got your priorities straight."

Fuzzy nodded sagely as the other girl next to Sasha left and the rest of the crowd dispersed. Perhaps life wasn't too different from the barrens after all. She would find Kenji and Julie later. For now, maybe she could have a meal with Sasha so long as she brought enough food for herself.

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