“I have the feeling you don't like me,” I tell Morrigan as she sets my hair up in a braided bun.

    “So you have eyes,” She comments, sticking in silver hairpins, “I don't like most people I just met. Well, that does depend on how I meet them I suppose.”

    “So it’s nothing personal,” I conclude.

    “No,” She smiles and I watch her through the mirror. Shira helped me pick out some basic furniture from their supply and workshop floor. She showed me all of the floors, and although I think it’ll take me a while to be able to memorize them, I got the hang of it. There’s a garden floor lower on the Pyramid, where the roof just looks like a blue sky. I am going to spend a lot of time there, running on the trails. The meeting room is between the two housing floors, and although Shira didn't show me Morrigan and Adi’s floor, I understood that it’s where the two of them usually are, unless they are in the workshop. It’s a shame that it’s impossible to go outside for a run, but I will just have to manage. Maybe I’ll one day be able to go fast enough that I can just swim to land if I really need to run.

    It’s becoming more and more clear that I’ve always used magic when I have been running. It’s like as soon as I realized that was what it was, everything started making sense. Even memories from my childhood, running track in P.E or winning a game of tag, it just makes sense. I was always like this, even before I knew it.

    “If you want your own set of makeup, you can just ask me,” Morrigan tells me while moving onto my face, starting with a skin-colored cream.

     “I don't know anything about makeup,” I admit, “I ran away when I was fourteen, and before that, I wasn't exactly the type of girl to wear it.”

    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Morrigan asks, not defensively but rather open-mindedly. She isn't looking directly at me, but I can feel her anticipating an answer.

    “I don't know,” I tell her, “I was a tomboy.”

    “I see,” She smiles, applying something to my eyes, “You know, a lot of the people here are queer. It’s only really Adi you have to tiptoe around, he’s very old school.”

    “I’m not,” I tell her. I don't actually know. I guess I’ve never really had time for figuring stuff like that out. I know Dana was bi, she wore the pink, purple and blue flag with pride. She kept trying to get answers out of me, kept pushing me to figure it out, but in the end, I just cared more about when I was going to get my next meal than who I might be interested in kissing. Love is a privilege.

    “That’s fine too,” She smiles.

    She continues in silence, and I watch her as she does. It’s pretty, but it feels and looks weird. I am usually not clean, and I’ve definitely never been as clean and dolled up like I am right now. My mother was a very private person and never attended any of the dinners my father was invited to. My father had served in the military before I was born, and when my mother died he returned to service. He’s properly stationed in Afghanistan right now, not caring about what happened to his weird daughter.

    “There,” She pats me on my cheek and gets up, “Just in time. I have to change into my evening dress, you just wait for a short while, then come up. It’s a tradition that the new member enters last. All the others should be ready by now.”

    “Okay,” I nod, turning my head to look at myself. I pull the sleeves of my dress further up and take a few deep breaths. It’s going to be alright, it’s just people.

    Morrigan gets up and floats towards the door, “I’ll knock on your door when I’ve made sure everyone is ready, then count to sixty and come up, okay?”

    “Okay,” I breathe, then smile reassuringly at her. She smiles gently at me, a piece of humanity melting through her ice, then the winter comes again, and like a light in a snowstorm, she disappears and leaves me shaking.

    It’s just people.

    My inability to function around others was what drove me to running away. I guess before the death of my mother, I had a reason to keep trying to be normal. I couldn't leave her, but I couldn't be normal. I was always skating by, dodging bullies and rude comments, catching myself packing my own stuff without my brain in the right place. 

    It’s the first time I am properly alone since I was asleep. My shoulders loose and the knot in my chest starts to fade away. I take the chance to look around my room. It’s beautiful, three decorated walls with paintings that look like they could have been found in a hotel. The sheets are pure white, the blanket gray. It’s all very bland, but Erika said Shira and Morrigan could help me get some more furniture and decorations. I’ve always wanted to decorate my own quaint home once I got to that place. I imagined having bookshelves taller than myself, herbs and plants growing inside. Posters, fairy lights, leather furniture. Dark curtains to keep the sun out, rustic tables. Steel. Something dark and real, something sturdy and old. I guess this far under the sea there’s no sun to keep out. I turn to look at the fourth wall, the one that is entirely glass. There’s a faint, bluish glow coming from it, and it’s been fading since I got here. Maybe some part of the sun can't be kept away, not even this far under the surface. I am too far up on the Pyramid to see the seafloor, but I imagine it must be empty, like a desert underwater.

    There’s a knock on my door. Morrigan and the others are ready for me. I take a deep breath, count like she said. It's just people.

    I pick up my dress and leave my room, walking towards the elevator. I stop before it, my hand hesitating before the button. Did I walk fast? Faster than a normal person? What if I accidentally use my powers and get there too early? Would that be awkward? I hope not. I guess I could just wait here. I count to ten, take a deep breath. No, it’s a bandaid, I need to rip it out. I abandon the numbers in my head and press the button, then wait for it to come down. It doesn't take long, and soon I am in the elevator, bouncing on my feet, folding my hands over and over.

    The doors open, slowly. Seven pairs of eyes turn and watch me as I enter the room. It’s grand, four white walls making up the room. There are no windows on this floor. I feel like I am inside of a grand castle, with the golden decorated curves on the walls and the crystal chandeliers. A grand table is on one side of the room, an empty stage on the other. An empty floor stretches between the two side, on it are the people I have to talk to. They are all holding drinks, their heads turned like I stopped their conversation. I take a deep breath.

    “Ladies and gentlemen,” Erika beams, stepping towards me, “Camilla.”

    “Does she have a last name?” A boy asks. He has dirty blonde hair, glasses, and is properly the shortest amongst them. He’s wearing an old suit, brown with embroidered gold leaves and bones.

    “Asrun Falk,” I tell them, “That’s my legal name.”

    Names have always been more complicated than that.

    “Asrun Falk,” The boy repeats, beaming, “Falk meaning Falcon. A fast bird for a fast person. It makes sense. I’ll have to read up on Asrun. Of course, Camilla is a reference to the Latin legend. Do you have any ties to Italy?”

    I contemplate turning around on the spot and never be seen again, “Not really.”

    “You properly don't know it,” Morrigan says, “Genetically you don't look Danish. Your hair is too dark.”

    “Her skin is too tanned,” Lynn continues, downing his drink and making his way towards a buffet table with bottles of different drinks on it.

    “Am I an animal made to be sold?” I ask, crossing my arms and looking around, avoiding eye contact.

    “No you are not,” Erika says pointedly, “Morrigan and Lynn, please behave.”

    “You’re right,” Morrigan smiles coldly, “I was being cruel.”

    “Don't mind them,” The boy with the glasses says, stepping over to me and extending his hand towards me, “My name is Ambrose Dreher, I am the leader of the Organisation. It should be my job to make sure my team isn't tearing down our newest asset. Not that you are just an asset, you are a person. We value you.”

    Erika laughs pleasantly, Shira looks at her with raised brows.

    “I thought Adi was your leader?” I puzzle.

    “I’m Adi,” This Ambrose figure answers coily, “I don't like it when these international folks pronounce my name wrong, so I just used to go by my initials, A D, but it’s kinda just turned into a word. Rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? Adi, it sounds sweeter than Ambrose.”

    “I guess so,” I say, fidgeting with my hands again.

    “I’m German,” Adi says, sensing my nervousness, “I was born close to the Danish border actually, I’ve been there loads of times. I know we are from different times, but I’ll always have solidarity with you. Northern Europeans stick together.”

    Morrigan huffs out a laugh, sipping at her drink.

    “I’m just trying to find some common ground before we know each other, “Adi says, looking down. He looks younger than me, younger than Morrigan. It’s hard for my brain to believe he’s older than any of us. I guess immortality looks different on different people.

    “Do you want a drink?” Shira asks, appearing beside me suddenly, clinging to my shoulder.

    I shake her off, “Some water is fine. Or soda.”

    Out of the corner of my eye, I see Erika holding out her hand and Zeph handing her a bundle of cash. Erika notices my straying eyes, “We bet on if you would say soda or fizzy drink.”

     “Oh,” I look away, towards the buffet table. Shira is pouring me a glass of what looks like cola.

     “You’ll get used to it,” She says, “I used to be the one they bet on all the time. In a few years, when someone new shows up, you’ll be the one doing the betting.”

    “I have nothing to bet with,” I tell her honestly as she hands me my drink. It doesn't smell like alcohol, so I take a sip. It’s been a while since I’ve had cold soda.

    “You’ll get things as time goes on,” Erika says, standing beside me, smiling gently. Her golden blonde hair is loose and framing her face like a halo, her dark skin such a bright contrast to her hair and dress, making her look like an ethereal angel. I guess that’s what she is, what we are. Not quite gods, not quite humans

   All the girls are wearing dresses, elaborate and different, both in style, color, and time. Morrigan looks like a mannequin in a museum come to life, with her old style dress and snitched waist. Shira is wearing a slim, simple red dress with a slit along one leg, and fishnet stockings poking out. The top part of her dress is embroidered with golden flowers and snakes. Even the boys’ suits are mitch matched in cut and color. Zeph’s is white and blue, with a turtleneck sweater instead of a dress shirt. Aiden’s outfit is entirely black, the only pop of color was his red magenta hair and the shining flames on the bottom of his jacket. Lynn is the only person whose outfit didn't fall into the traditional suit or dress. He is wearing loose-fitting black pants with green plants on the bottom, like seaweed waving in the water every time the fabric flows with his movement. His dress shirt was black too, and the woolen sweater vest adorning his chest an aquatic green. He was wearing pearls, which he kept fiddling with nervously, glancing at Morrigan. I wondered briefly if they were a thing, both mean and old, but then pushed the thought away, knowing somehow that it wasn't true.

    “We should play some music,” Morrigan notes, looking at Adi, as if asking for permission in a teasing way. I got the sense that Morrigan didn't like any of us, maybe except Lynn and Erika. Although I don't think it is possible to dislike Erika. Must be a side effect of her magic.

    “As you wish,” Adi says, giving Shira his glass and walking towards the stage where a lonely radio was sitting on the floor. He touched it, not pressing any buttons, and music came to life, not from the radio, but from the walls and the floor, from the air. It was soft, classical music.

    “We should dance,” Morrigan says, looking at me, “Of course you don't know any proper dances. Best you dance with Aiden then, he is just as terrible.”

    “Hey,” Aiden says, “I am a great dancer.”

    “You dance too modernly,” Morrigan told him, taking Lynn’s hands, ready to dance, “Besides, it’s the best way to pair us up. I’ll dance with Lynn, Erika with Zeph, Adi with Shira, you with her. We’ll switch it up eventually.”

    “Boys with girls,” Erika commented, looking at Morrigan knowingly, “Didn’t think you would want us to fall into such stereotypes.”

    “You can dance with a girl if you want to,” Morrigan let go of Lynn’s hands, “I’ll dance with a boy because I want to. Non romantically, Lynn is my son.”

    “I’m not,” Lynn said, looking at the far wall. His voice was deep, rusten. As if he woke up from a hundred-year nap and had to oil every part of him daily to get it to work properly.

    “Let’s just dance,” Shira interrupted, taking Adi’s hands and smiling brightly. Adi’s face turned red as she dragged him onto the dancefloor, twirling him around in an elegant melody made with their bodies. Erika laughed and embraced with an equally grinning Zeph, the two of them not stopping their giggles as they joined the dance. Morrigan and Lynn started dancing too, their movements pristine and easy, two ghosts on the dancefloor.

    Aiden turned to look at me, smiling shyly, “I’m really not that bad, Morrigan just likes to overreact.”

    “I don't care,” I told him, forcing myself to take his hands and dance. It came easy, the movements. Mostly it was my feet doing the job, falling in step with the others. Erika talked about how our magic evolves, how she turned her charisma into a way to swim. Maybe I subconsciously use my movement and speed-based magic to carry my feet as I waltz with Aiden. I am definitely better than him. Just looking at how he moves, it’s clear that his body wants to break free and melt into the music in a faster, more free way. He feels restrained. I look behind him as another dancing couple moves past us, and my eyes connect to Erika. Does she see it too? How Aiden is holding himself back? If she doesn't see it, does she feel it? How he is lying with his body?