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Aberrant: Mutant High - This Could Be a Home


Strange Charm

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The VW bus rolled to a stop in front of the gates of the Lawrence Hunt Academy. It had a 'coat of many colors' from primer, paint, and repainted areas, but it ran well and didn't belch too much noxious exhaust. When it had stopped completely, five people poured out of the van. Two older people came from the front of the van, a man and a woman. They were older, and dressed in sneakers, flannel, and well-worn blue jeans. They looked like a couple who had met at a Grateful Dead concert, and had followed the Dead ever since, Jerry's death and the band's break-up be damned.

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Next was a twentysomething blond/green haired girl in a tie-dyed haltertop, a long skirt, and sandals. Close behind her was a young man with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, sporting a beard, a leather jacket, old jeans and motorcycle boots. Last came another young man,jean jacket festooned with pins,a mop of long, curly dirty-blond hair. He had sideburns that wouldn't have been out of place in the 70's, and a two-finger wide strip of facial hair running from under his bottom lip to under his chin. Any outside observer would be hard-pressed to say why it was this last young man who was so riveting, but there was certainly an aura about him, an aura that made him seem comfortable, like the sight of a long-lost friend.

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They unpacked the van, removing a guitar case, what was apparently a keyboard case with "CASIO" emblazoned on the side, and a large wheeled suitcase, complete with leash. The family all hugged their goodbyes, and promised they would stay in touch. Then the first four got into the van, which honked a farewell and drove off.

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The last young man, Rollo Strange, stood watching the van disappear. Already he had some regrets about leaving the Forthrights. His adopted family had loved him and treated him better than his biological parents ever had, The older girl, Aurora, had been the one who'd helped him sit down and focus on his high school lessons, proving to himself that he could be smart if he wanted to be. And Stone,was his brother, and they'd looked out for each other all throughout school, getting into all sorts of shit that they'd luckily never been caught for. The only member of the family who hadn't shown up, Jasmine, had run away last summer with a guy who obviously loved her, but was just as obviously a little off-kilter and not too shiny. They hadn't heard from her in over a month, and Rollo was kinda bummed and more than a little worried. He and Jasmine had a special kind of connection, once upon a time, but then jasmine had mysteriously got fed up with everybody, and wanted out in the worst way. Which, thinking about it, was pretty much exactly how she'd left.

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And now it was Rollo's turn to leave. He'd gotten around to taking a long-overdue test to see if his genes were funky, and it had turned out they were. The silver lining had been the fact that the copy that was supposed to have gone to the authorities had instead gone to the Forthrights. At least they'd been given time to come up with a plan, which was better than some families had, and that had led Rollo here.

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And here was...beautiful. The building looked like an academy, but not in such a way that it resembled a prison with a friendly facade. It was welcoming. The sun was still up, it was neither too hot nor too cold, and the nearby flowering plants added a pleasant perfume to the air. Much, much nicer than the trailer park he'd grown up in, and all because of a few flies in his DNA soup. Ain't life a bitch like that?

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He put in his earbuds, dialed up Blue Swede's "Hooked on a Feeling", and strolled at a leisurely pace through the gate and towards the director's office. Some last-minute paperwork snags to untie, and then he'd dump his shit somewhere and go out and get some food. Meet his fellow inmates, hang around his own kind. Maybe among his fellow mutants, he could finally lose that sense of being the oddball, and have a home to call his.

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Rollo was sitting in the Director's office, feeling well out of place. He blamed the decor; this was an office for parents of prospective students as well as interfering government bureaucrats and nosy reporters, meant to both soothe and intimidate by authority at the same time. It stated, boldly as possible without violating decorum, "We run a very tight ship around here, and you will not forget that." It wasn't designed to soothe young adults. Or maybe it was because Rollo had never pictured himself in a room like this without first having done something wrong and gotten caught. Even the chairs seemed stiff and reserved, but then again, Rollo's couch back home was only steps above being a beanbag.

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Thankfully, the Director himself seemed both at home in the office, but not of it. Rather than sit behind a desk, he sat in the chair next to Rollo, turning it to face him. "Okay, Rollo? Rollo, good, they got that right at least. Here's the problem we're having on our end. The fact is that your 'gift', being a luck-collector or luck-catalyst, is both intriguing enough to certain scientists that they could push to override your admission here and make you a ward of the state, and just vague enough that most laymen aren't going to get how we can tell the difference between someone who's just very lucky and someone whose genetic code engineers them to be lucky. That's the bad news. In a nutshell, if the government wanted to fight us on your admission here, that's the most likely way they'd approach doing so."

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"The good news is, I really don't think it'll come to that. Rollo, are you familiar with the Cold War of the last century? Did they teach you about that?"

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Rollo pondered a bit, then said,"Oh, yeah. We were, like, on the brink of melting down the whole planet in a nuclear war because we were capitalist and the USSR was communist, or something dumb like that. Only both sides were too scared to actually pull the trigger, so instead of duking it out, we went all cloak and dagger against each other, like in the old Bond movies. It was like the world's longest chess match, and it got called because it went on for so long that people just got bored of it and canceled the game."

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Not an entirely off-target metaphor, Director Drumm had to admit. "Well, it was more complicated than that, Rollo, and the stakes were very, very high at the time, but I think you have the basic idea. Well, we're engaged in a similar situation with certain people in our government. On the one hand, you and the other students here are mutants. And right now is an unfortunate time to be different. But on the other hand, people have not completely forgotten that you and your peers at the Academy are also children, or young adults getting ready to go out into the world and make your place. So those people don't dare make an open move in public, or they'll draw a lot of ire, make our cause seem sympathetic in comparison, and no doubt risk exposing some doings on their part that they'd rather keep hidden. This is good for you specifically, because your adopted family is still very close with you, your biological parents aren't...in a position to contest their decisions, and if the government does try to pull you out of here, odds are good that they'll open up a can of worms that they won't be able to re-seal."

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The Director paused. "One thing that I'm going to ask you to work on during your stay at the Lawrence Hunt Academy is to see if you can develop your gifts to the extent that they can manifest in an obvious manner somehow. Despite what people think, these peculiar genetic manifestations can be worked on and improved, and that improvement is one of the many services we offer here. I don't often ask students to concentrate on their gifts, in fact I usually encourage them to not rely on those gifts unless it's an emergency. But in your case, Mr. Strange...Rollo...I'll make an exception and notify our staff accordingly. The officials who monitor this place may require some additional tests, and I hope to prove to their satisfaction that it's not worth their time or trouble coming after you."

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"Of course, that brings us to the other area where your efforts are critical: your grades. You'll have to work much harder than you've been, Rollo. I do not expect every young person that comes in here to be a super-genius, but I do expect them to take this Academy seriously. It's hard enough out there being genetically different, but it's even worse without a good command of math, science, history, literacy, and physical fitness. The good news is, for you, that we have several students and many staff members who are willing to put in extra time and effort to assist you as best they can. Use their generosity, and use it wisely. Above all, make friends here: the connections you establish here will serve you well long after you graduate. These may be the last moments you have to prepare yourself before real life comes at you with the brakes off."

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Rollo wasn't a good student, but he was good at people. He could tell that the Director was trying really hard to brace him for real life without scaring him so hard he needed therapy. "Wow...Hey, Director Drumm, I can say without any irony or sarcasm here, that was probably the best damn pep talk I've ever been given. Seriously! I know I don't look it or act it, sometimes? But I don't take my luck for granted. I'll bust my hump here same as anyone else. Right now, I'm hoping to make the most of your music and arts departments, because that's where I get my wings on, but yeah I'll be sure to push my grades up. Good news is: I make friends pretty easy, so that won't be that big a deal. Just know that I get you, and that coasting wasn't really on my to do list anyway." Well, it was, but I'll cross it off when I get to my dorm room, I swear.

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Director Drumm nodded, and couldn't resist smiling a little bit. The boy has no idea, but if they're right about his mutation, maybe that's only to be expected. Well, he'll learn soon enough. "The only other question I have, Rollo, is about your choice for an alias. Strange Charm? How did you come by that?"

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"Oh, yeah. well, one night my dad--my adopted dad-- kinda got into the weird mood" he was stoned out of his mind on some weed "and was reading to us about sub-atomic particles. I don't remember any of the rest of them, but I remembered that two of them were called Strange and Charm, and when I realized I was a mutant, I remembered that, and it seemed to fit." Rollo shrugged, as if to say, "Hey, it's my mind and that's how it rolls. Nothing I can do, man."

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"Alright, Strange Charm, I think we've covered all we need to for today. do stop in if you have further questions, but please make an appointment first. I have here a map of the campus, with your room marked off. I believe I can find another student to help show you around the place. I'd wish you good luck, but apparently, you already have that in hand." They shook hands, and Rollo went to find his room and his guide.

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Strange Charm emerged from the admin building to find that the sun was much brighter than when he went in. Squinting upwards, he realised that it was actually a glowing young man sitting on the porch crenellations who, as he saw Rollo, pushed off and dropped the fifteen feet to the ground. Actually, dropped wasn't really the right word - he floated down, alighting next to the newcomer and giving him a radiant smile. If Caravaggio and Botticelli got together over drinks and hammered out the perfect face and form for an angel, this youth would have been the result, though the divine effect was somewhat spoiled by the faded jeans and a white t-shirt with "Pew Pew" written on it. His tumbling mane of golden hair shimmered with it's own radiance as he pushed it out of his face, offering Rollo a hand.

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"Hello." the golden young man said, the summery warmth of his aura playing over Rollo's face. "Alex Andrews. Miss Childs asked me to show you around, get you settled in your dorm, that kind of thing. This is your tour, so you get to decide on dorm room or tour first, though I'd leave the cafeteria for last." He frowned slightly. "Things have a tendency to get derailed in the cafeteria." He grinned then, and watched Rollo expectantly.

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Strange Charm emerged from the admin building to find that the sun was much brighter than when he went in. Squinting upwards, he realized that it was actually a glowing young man sitting on the porch crenelations who, as he saw Rollo, pushed off and dropped the fifteen feet to the ground. Actually, dropped wasn't really the right word - he floated down, alighting next to the newcomer and giving him a radiant smile. If Caravaggio and Botticelli got together over drinks and hammered out the perfect face and form for an angel, this youth would have been the result, though the divine effect was somewhat spoiled by the faded jeans and a white t-shirt with "Pew Pew" written on it. His tumbling mane of golden hair shimmered with it's own radiance as he pushed it out of his face, offering Rollo a hand.

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Holy anal probe, it's Fabio! He does exist! was Rollo's first thought. His second one was, Every tan-in-the-can place from here to Russia is going to want him as a spokesmodel. Mercifully, somewhere along the way he'd learn to censor himself and put on manners when necessary. Even though he was taken aback by a dude who looked like the entire state of California rolled into one person, what came out was, "Hey, you're that guy on every Harlequin cover in the drug store. Wassup, dude! Holy shit, I did not know I was in the company of the famous. Could you hook me up with some of those babes? Cause, damn." He shook the shiny guy's hand, and smiled, hoping he hadn't pissed the guy off. Could probably give me third-degree burns and cancer on top.

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"Hello." the golden young man said, the summery warmth of his aura playing over Rollo's face. "Alex Andrews. Miss Childs asked me to show you around, get you settled in your dorm, that kind of thing. This is your tour, so you get to decide on dorm room or tour first, though I'd leave the cafeteria for last." He frowned slightly. "Things have a tendency to get derailed in the cafeteria." He grinned then, and watched Rollo expectantly.

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"Hey, Alex. Rollo Strange, not a doctor. Yeah, let's roll to my new crib, 'cause my gear is killing me." It was his fault for bringing both the guitar and the keyboard along, but having them would remind him to focus on his music, which was so far the only thing other than kicking back and slack-assing which kept his attention. "So...what's the deal with the cafeteria? Not the food, is it? Because I'm used to high school food, the kind you need a Hazmat suit to eat, or they make you sign a waiver. No shit, I found out that my old school had a deal with someone? We got the food that the prison system rejected, it was even stamped that way on the side of the boxes."

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"The food is actually pretty good." Alex said with an easy smile, as if used to taking blurted comments about his looks in stride. "Want a hand with those?" At Rollo's nod, the shining youth picked up the keyboard case with some care and led the new guy down the steps and across the quad. "Even the meatloaf, unless someone destabilises it's protons and neutrons so it blows up in your face." He kept his face deadpan, though a glint of humor in his eyes as he looked sideways at Rollo made him smile. "But that doesn't happen often."

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"Often." Strange Charm stated flatly, playing along.

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"Well, hardly ever." Alex said blithely. "You'll like your room, I hope. You're just down the hall from me, so knock on the door if you want anything." The two of them entered the large building and passed through the lobby / recreation area, both of them drawing a lot of pairs of female eyes their way. "Or if you just want to jam, or chill out. I'm not bad with a guitar, and my roomie's pretty tolerant of musicians as long as he's not sleeping and they don't "suck ass"."

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They ascended a couple of flights of stairs, passing a variety of strange kids - green skin, fur, scales were all in evidence, as was a totally normal seeming boy wearing coke-bottle glasses skimming along about 3 inches above the carpeted hallway floor like he was on a surfboard. A strange patch of what suspiciously like booger-matter was gelling on the stairwell wall, and Alex shook his head.

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"Don't worry too much about that." he jerked his head towards the green-yellow mass. "The kid responsible never comes up to the third floor, due to someone telling him that he'd get stalked by Morri if she found boogers in her territory." He pushed the door open onto the third floor and proceeded down the hall. "I don't think she would stalk him, but even I can't be sure." He grinned at the thought. "Aaaand this is your room." he finished, pushing open the door into a spacious double room. "No roomie, at least for now. They change assignments and stuff, so relish it while you can."

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Okay. Stay away from the meatloaf when the science geeks are doing research. Got it.

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Rollo nodded and waved at the passing dormers. He deliberately cultivated an aura of nonchalance about the scales, fur, and hoverboarding; he'd done his best to prepare himself for anything by deliberately not getting any preconceived notions about what he'd see at the Academy. As far as Rollo could tell, these were just kids being kids. Besides, Rollo was happy to hear that KC the Sunshine Boy could play guitar; this dude had Lead Singer written all over him, and having a charismatic front guy was so essential for a band to make it anywhere. Rollo could sing, but even he had to admit it was more enthusiasm that carried him than talent.

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Rollo picked a bed and dumped his crap on it, shaking his arms to get the pins-and-needles feeling out of them. It would've been nice if he'd gotten mutant-muscles along with his other genetic surprises, but he knew he had no right to bitch too loud. "Okay, so, who's Morri? Is she like the dorm monitor or something? Or just one of those people who you don't cross?"

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(OOC: Are there bathrooms in the dorm rooms? Are they big enough to contain showers?)

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Strange Charm’s eyes roamed around the open space as he asked his question. His question was unwittingly partially answered when he caught sight of the open closet door. It wasn’t the door that caught his attention; it was the girl sitting cross-legged on the floor.

She was gorgeous; it was easy to forget that when Morri was being, well, Morri. Her dark skin was flawless and her black hair was now in long braids, courtesy of another student. Her red eyes added a hint of danger to her that added to her appeal, if a boy was into that kind of wild side. She was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, and an open cardboard box sat next to her.

In the cradle of her legs was a kitten. It was at the awkward blind and crawling stage, but was content to curl against her thigh and sleep. She held a kitten in the one hand while the other held a coffee stirrer. The glass of milk and the white marks on the straw betrayed Morri’s actions.

The feral looked at Alex, her expression somewhere between defiant, beseeching and hopeful. “Morri found keh-tins! Morri care. Alex no tell? Boy no tell? Pleas?” It was a measure of her desire that she attempted to use the word ‘please’.

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"Aaand that's Morri." Alex half-said, half-sighed as he smiled at Exhibit A, then looked at Rollo. "She's not a dorm monitor. She's the other one." he added with a wink before stepping carefully over to the open closet door and crouching down, his smile warm as he looked at Morri, then at the kittens.

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Which seemed a little odd. Admittedly, Alex was no cat expert, but these two looked different to normal kittens. He peered at them, his solar aura warming the closet, then peered in a similar way at Morri, who's expression was still somewhere between pleading and defiant, though hopeful as she looked at Alex. Alex was nice. He wouldn't take the keh-tins away.

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"Where did you find them?" Alex asked, seating himself on the floor at the closet door.

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"In den." Morri said, more brightly. Alex wasn't looking stern or worried, instead radiating that friendly warm feeling that made her feel warm too. He was smiling at the keh-tins, his sky eyes looked like he was thinking - maybe he would help keep them safe!

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"And what about their mother, Morri?" he enquired gently, reaching out one hand to gently finger-stroke a kitten's head. It made a soft sound as the sunlight he emitted caressed it's fur. Morri looked at the baby, then at him.

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"Dead." she said gravely. "Morri mouth-her now. Alex no tell?" she asked again. Alex sat back and looked like he was thinking hard.

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"I'll help you to keep them, Morri." he reassured her. "I won't tell if you look after them properly. If they get sick, though, we should tell someone who can help them, okay?"

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Rollo looked at the girl in the closet, looked at the kitten, and smiled despite the weirdness of the situation. He decided to take his cue from Alex, and sat next to him on the floor. When in Rome...and you're hip-deep in the Rome at this point, so go with it.

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In a quiet voice he whispered, "Aww, so damn cute." He extended his hand toward the kitten, then paused. "Morri, may I pet the kitten? I won't hurt him or wake him up. Okay?" He waited until she gave a terse, cautious nod, then reached out and gently petted the sleeping puff-ball. The kitten stretched out and let out a high-pitched *ny'gak* that was halfway between a meow and a yawn, then curled back in on itself, it's little purr-motor chirping along.

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Rollo looked up at Morri while petting the sleepy kitty, and said, "Hi, Morri? My name's Rollo, and they told me that this was going to be my room. Now if you need to hide the kittens in here? That's cool by me."

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"When I was younger, the family who adopted me, before they adopted me, had found this little orange kitten in one of their sheds. He was kinda scruffy-looking, and at the time he didn't trust anyone. Well, I tended to be good with animals, so they asked me to get him out of the shed. I got lucky, he was asleep and didn't know what was going on until I had him in my arms. They decided to keep him, but they made sure he was okay first, and got him to a vet--an animal doctor--and made sure they knew what to feed him and how to take care of him. He didn't take too well to being indoors first, and he was scared of people so he'd run and hide from them, but I managed to coax him out and get him used to me, and then everyone else. Once he realized that indoors wasn't as scary as outdoors, and that there was food and water available pretty much when he wanted it? He got into the swing of things and became a housecat. A real friendly one, The orange ones are good at that, I read...somewhere."

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"Anyway, a couple years later, when my parents passed on, this family adopted me, and there was this big orange cat to greet me. We used to call him Dash, because he was constantly running around the trailer for no good reason. By the time I moved in we'd changed his name to Oafy, because he'd gotten big, and super-friendly, and kinda clumsy. We fed him like he was part of the family. He'd sit on his own little stool by the table, and during dinnertime he'd sit there, never put his paws on the table, he'd just eat off the plate. When he was done, he'd chirp, jump down, and go use the litterbox. And he'd still run around the trailer, but if you'd just come home, or you were someone he hadn't met before, he'd stop, meow at you, and jump into your lap and curl up. And he'd just chill there for awhile purring away like this little guy here. He's still alive, and I'll bet I get to have him occupy my lap over break."

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"Anyway, one of the things we learned about cats is that, while they like milk?" And here he pointed at the glass."Sometimes the milk doesn't sit right with them, and it kinda upsets their stomachs. And then they have to poop real bad. But they still like the taste of it, even though it's not so good for them. So if you're going to be a cat mom, you kinda have to watch what they eat, because they can't figure this stuff out for themselves. Also, you're gonna need a litterbox, and you should have a cat doctor look after them. Just saying, okay?"

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He hoped he wasn't talking over her head or down to her. But hey, he was doing his best, and that had to count for something, right? He gave Alex a look that said, Am I handling this right, bro? Jump in aaaaaaaanytime you want.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Morri’s expression went from attentive to uncertain halfway through Rollo’s speech; by the time he’d wrapped it up, she was feeding the kitten again. When he told her that the milk was bad for the kittens, she shifted the kitten to her lap—despite its protests—and reached behind her back. She pulled out a can and extended it to Rollo, who blinked when he realized he was staring at a can of cat replacement formula. Her expression politely told Rollo he was an idiot as she said, “Ghoo-gal said use this. Ghoo-gal said mouth-her cat clean poop when keh-tin lit-till. Morri teach good-poop when big.”

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Alex parsed her words, frowning. “You can use Google?”

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“Rile-ee use Ghoo-gal Morri. Morri read lit-till words, Rile-ee read big words. Rile-ee take Morri to town for cat form-you-la.” Morri recounted her adventure matter of factly, without discussing how she got a boy who was terrified of her to help her so extensively. Alex could guess how that happened, but didn’t want to dwell on what was probably a highly traumatic experience for another student. He’d deal with it later—one Morri-caused crisis at a time.

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“So do you know what kind of cats they’ll grow up to be?” Alex asked, reaching out to pet the still-hungry one. It turned toward him and tried to find a teat on his finger, only to lose interest when Morri used the stirrer to dribble formula into its mouth again.

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“Yes. This kind.” Morri held up a piece of paper with a picture printed on it.

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bob+cat+pictures+3.jpg

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