All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.
Chapter Three: A Warm Welcome
"Melanie..."
The voice sounded close, yet distant. The girl had the distinct feeling that she was floating.
"Melanie..."
Closer now, but she couldn't tell whether it came from inside her head, or out. It sounded like it could be either.
"Melanie, dear..."
With a groan, her dark brown eyes came open. Her head felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton, and there was an aching in her joints. She was lying on her bed, but... she had no memory of getting back into it. What time was it? What day, for that matter?
"Melanie..."
The girl turned her head at that gentle, yet persistent voice and saw Joan standing over her, arms folded smartly across her breast. "Have a good sleep, dear?" The matriarch asked, voice tinged around the edges with sarcasm.
"I've had better," Melanie admitted, moving into a sitting position on the king-sized mattress, her limbs still stiff from being in awkward positions most of the night, courtesy of her induced sleep on the floor.
"You were on the floor when I came in this morning," Joan explained. "I picked you up and moved you to your bed. Now, why on earth would you be sleeping on the floor, sweetheart, when you had that big, comfortable bed all to yourself?"
Melanie was usually good at improvising bullshit on the spot. It helped when she was trying to avoid punishment from her elders. But, this time she was at a loss. "Um... the bed was too comfortable, ma'am," was the best she could manage.
Joan gave a reproachful shake of her head. "Or perhaps... you were trying to get into that?" She turned slightly, pointed in the direction of the writing desk, where her briefcase still sat.
Melanie had a strong feeling it would be pointless to continue pretending (Joan was definitely the shrewdest adult she'd met, smarter than most of the police, not to mention the fact that the petite girl still wore her kitchen gloves), but she kept at it out of instinct. "Why would I care about that?" She said with a shrug.
"You tell me," Joan answered her. After a terse silence, she picked up the case and began to turn the combination wheels on the front of it. After lining up the numbers just right, she laid it flat on the bed. "Well, you wanted to look in it that badly, dear. So go ahead."
The young blonde did not move. Joan laughed and said, "Not to worry, child. It's safe now. No further traps. Go on... open it."
Melanie doffed her gloves, then leaned forward and opened the case. Inside, there was nothing except a cell phone, some silver fountain pens, and lots of papers. Melanie rooted through them and recognized some as the legal documents from her hearing yesterday, but others seemed to be... information. Brochures on something called the CLEMENCY SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNG WOMEN. The picture on the front of the brochures looked pastoral, several venerable-looking buildings nestled a midst a forest of evergreens.
Melanie would have made a comment about how the school itself probably looked nothing like the picture, but she was too startled by the fact that the case's contents were so... tame. Why go to all that trouble to guard something not worth guarding?
As if she were reading the girl's mind, Joan commented: "The rubber gloves were a most ingenious idea. Most girls your age wouldn't have thought to use such a thing to absorb the electricity. Well, most girls would have given up after that first initial setback, but you were so determined. I imagine the second lock was a bit trickier. If no combination is entered after two minutes, or if the wrong one is entered, the case emits a concentrated cloud of trichloromethane, invisible to the naked eye, though it does have a very distinct smell. It dissipates rather quickly, but anyone unfortunate enough to be standing within a foot of the case will be rendered unconscious for several hours."
Though Melanie's brain was still a little slow from the effects of that trichloro... whatever Joan had said, it suddenly made sense why the older woman would just leave her case in Melanie's room. "This... was a test?"
"Indeed," Joan affirmed with a curt nod. "And you did better than expected, though the second part tripped you up. But it tripped the other girls up, too."
"Well, yeah. Why would I be expecting a second lock?"
For a brief moment, Joan Landy's blue eyes suddenly became a bit colder, like chips of ice. "You should always expect the unexpected, child. Sometimes, it's the only way to survive. You were lucky that gas was just chloroform. If it had been a more toxic compound, you'd be dead now." And like that, the expression became more maternal again. "But this is one of the skills you will learn at your new home, Melanie: how to be ready for anything, to stay two moves ahead of those who would harm you."
For a moment, all Melanie could do was stare at her new guardian. Just who was this woman? Though a sliver of mistrust still remained, Melanie filed it into the back of her mind for the time being, because she had an answer to her question: the type of woman who could teach her the skills she truly needed in life. After a moment, the stare turned into a look of grudging admiration.
Joan gave her young charge a nod, and then handed her the room service menu. "Now, then, dear, I'm sure you're still feeling the effects of the gas. A little breakfast will clear the cobwebs from your head. Then we need to start packing our things."
Though Melanie was no longer starving, she was still hungry enough to order both a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. She had also asked for a bottle of Tabasco sauce, which she shook vigorously over her eggs. A little too vigorously. Joan thought about saying something, but she remembered the Chinese mustard from the night before, and so kept silent. After Melanie had doused her eggs in hot sauce, she took up her fork and tucked into them, once more appearing unfazed by the spice.
"Amazing," Joan said out loud, before turning back to her own breakfast of yogurt, fruit, and Grape Nuts. After they were done eating, Melanie got dressed in some of the casual wear that had been purchased yesterday, and then they packed their things for check-out. Which didn't take long. Joan had traveled light, and Melanie had nothing except the clothes Joan had bought for her. Once more, the concierge arranged for transportation to the airport. To the surprise of Melanie, it was not the international airport that most regular people would have to use, but Fresno-Chandler Executive Airport.
Once there, the two boarded a private jet to Seattle, Washington. It was the first time in her life Melanie had been on a plane (as far as she knew), and the first time she'd been out of California (again, as far as her limited recollections were concerned). She had heard one of her foster parents rant about what a clusterfuck air travel was, but they clearly hadn't been talking about private jets. Money really is no object, Melanie thought to herself as she sipped Dr. Pepper through a straw and watched the ground grow more distant outside the small window.
Despite yet another new experience, Melanie eventually grew bored sitting in the seat, so one of the flight crew offered the young blonde a selection of reading material. Most of it looked boring, novels written by people who were dead now, but she did find a "Milk and Cheese" comic book mixed in with the literature, and selected that. She'd never read them before, but found herself laughing out loud quite a bit at their antics. "I don't know how that got in there," Joan said with a reproachful tone when she saw what her charge was reading. "But an exception could be made. Your access to comics will be limited when you start school."
Lunchtime rolled around when they were halfway to their destination. Which also turned out to be a new experience for the neglected, street-savvy preteen. "Have you ever eaten lobster, Melanie?" Joan asked her.
"No," the girl answered. "And I don't wanna. It looks like a big, gross bug." She shuddered a little at the thought.
The elder woman chuckled at her. "Well, you might like this. It's prepared in such a way that it's easy not to think about the... whole 'bug' part." So saying, Joan placed two orders for lobster thermidore for their lunch. Melanie's urge to run away had never been stronger, but as she was in the air, for the first time in her life there was no place she could run. But she changed her mind when the plate was placed in front of her. Yes, it was served in its own shell, but the legs, eyes, and feelers had all been removed, making it easy not to think about where it came from. And what was in the shell... was extremely good. Melanie was surprised at how sweet and tender lobster meat was, and mixed with the cream sauce... it was probably better than the duck she'd eaten yesterday.
"It seems I've made a believer out of you, dear," Joan said, watching Melanie eat the last of the meat from the shell.
"Well, as long as it's made like this," Melanie said, and then started on the side, which was a buttered baked potato sprinkled with chives and bacon bits. After such a hearty lunch, the girl felt sleepy, and so she napped for the rest of the flight.
The landing was uneventful, and jolted Melanie out of her rest. She'd had the same dream from the night before last while she'd been sleeping, but if Joan had noticed, she chose not to comment on it. After they departed the plane, they walked only a few hundred yards across the tarmac to a waiting limousine, which the flight crew quickly loaded their luggage into.
Once again, Melanie found herself experiencing a memorable "first." The passenger space inside the car that she and Joan were sitting in... was larger than some of the cars her foster parents had owned. The seat beneath her was made of buttery black leather, so soft that Melanie was afraid she might sink into it. There was even a television, bar and mini-fridge/freezer that was quite well stocked.
"Enjoy this while you can, dear," Joan said as she watched the petite blondee procure an ice cream bar from the freezer. "Your life will be... somewhat different in a few hours." Melanie only half-listened, as she stared out the window, watching the bustling city life that they passed, with its seemingly perpetual dreary gray sky hanging over it. She wasn't sure just what Joan meant by that, but she wasn't too worried. If she didn't like her new home, her Plan B was still to run away. She'd broken out of orphanages too many times to count in the past. This would be no different...
A few more hours went by. Eventually, the busy sidewalks of Seattle outside the car window gave way to views of suburbs, which gave way to more rustic views. The paved road cut a lazy, winding path through scenic forests, with both deciduous and evergreen trees towering over the limo, their leaves still forming a thick canopy in the early autumn.
Melanie passed the time by watching TV and snacking on things. Every now and then, she'd glance out the window, but saw nothing except large trees, so she would always turn back to the television (as well as pocketing snacks from the bar when Joan wasn't looking). It was late afternoon by the time that the young girl heard Joan announce: "Here we are, dear! Your new home!" Melanie moved to the window, and peering it out of it, saw the limo approaching a clearing in the evergreens, in the center of which rested a grouping of several venerable-looking buildings, constructed of gray stone and mortar. It was surrounded on all sides by a high fence, at least twenty feet.
When they got closer, to the front gate where a uniformed security guard was waiting, Melanie couldn't help but notice a small square sign attached to the fence with a picture of a lightning bolt painted on it. Well, that's new, she thought. Since when does a school need an electric fence? Escape might be trickier, should it come to that, but Melanie was still fairly certain she could pull it off.
The driver flashed the guard ID, and rolled down one of the rear windows, allowing the guard to peer inside. "Ms. Landy," the man said with a nod when he noticed Joan and Melanie. He touched two fingers on his right hand to his brow. "Welcome home, ma'am."
"Thank you, Cosgrove," Joan said to the uniformed man. "I'm very glad to be back. Especially since the trip appears to have been a success."
The guard named Cosgrove nodded politely, and then walked back to his kiosk. He reached in through the window and pressed a button on his panel, and with a grinding whir, the gate started to slide open.
The limo entered and made its way down what looked like the center of a quad area, with thick dark green grass that appeared perfectly kept. Milling around on the grass, some of them playing catch or Frisbee, others sitting on blankets gossiping, Melanie could see several other girls who appeared to be her age, most of them blonde, though a few were brunette or black-haired, all of them dressed in school uniforms. The limo stopped just outside the steps to a large stone building that overlooked this common area, and the driver got out and opened the door for his passengers.
"Wait here, dear," Joan told Melanie. "I just have to go check and see if the doctor has faxed in your... test results. I'll be back in a moment." So saying, she ascended the steps and disappeared inside the building, leaving Melanie alone with the driver, who was cleaning his side-view mirror with a rag. Melanie decided to leave him alone (she doubted he could tell her anything useful, anyway), and continued to look around at the other girls scattered on the quad. There was an occasional curious glance in the direction of the limo, but overall no one paid her any mind.
After a while, Melanie grew bored, sat down on the bottom step, and took out her old Swiss Army knife. She busied herself by opening and closing it. Even though she knew the blade had lost any edge it had left a few years ago, she liked to hold onto it. The other attachments, such as the can opener, Phillips head, and corkscrew still worked, and all had their uses for breaking and entering.
"Nice knife," said a female voice behind her. Melanie turned her head just a little to see a girl with shoulder length blonde hair and a look of arrogance in her pale blue eyes, wearing the same uniform as those on the quad. She seemed to be built a little better than most of them, though. Even through the long-sleeved white blouse, Melanie could see that her arms looked pretty solid. They were folded in front of her chest, which already seemed to be developing despite that fact that she could not have been much older than Melanie, if not the same age.
The smaller girl almost felt a twinge of jealousy, then she remembered it would probably be wasted on whoever this was, and stood up, bringing her whole body around to face the other girl. Even without the second step to give her extra height, Melanie estimated she was about six inches taller.
"It suits you," the girl went on to say with a smirk suggesting that she already felt that Melanie was beneath her. "It's runty... just like its owner."
Melanie gave a small shrug. Not the first time another kid had made a remark about her height. Usually, the petite blonde could come up with a retort that would send the bigger kid crying to a grown-up. This time, she didn't feel like doing that much work. Melanie didn't feel like wasting a witty comeback on the likes of her, and besides, something told her this other girl would be immune, anyway. So, she shrugged again. "Well, it ain't the size that matters. It's how you use it."
"I'm sure runts like you say that all the time, to make yourselves feel better," the girl said with a snort. "But at the end of the day, a runt is a runt."
Melanie glanced briefly over her shoulder, keeping one eye on the girl. The driver of the limousine was now wiping some bird droppings off the front windshield, and seemed to be paying them no mind. So the smaller girl asked her antagonist: "Speaking of size, how many people could wipe their asses with what you've got stuffed down your shirt?"
This earned her some mocking laughter from the taller blonde. "These are real, runt. Which is more than you'll ever be able to say." Melanie's shirt was a little big on her, but it was still easy to see how flat her own chest was underneath the garment. Even though Melanie knew in the back of her mind that there was still time for her to grow (as one of her skeevier foster dads had liked to remind her), it still irked her to be facing a girl for whom puberty had started early.
The other girl took her prey's silence as a concession, and asked her: "So, you got any money?"
Melanie nodded, remembering the change in her pocket. "Yeah, but you can't have it."
The girl moved off the steps until she was standing right in Melanie's face, close enough for Melanie to smell the Wrigley's on her breath, and also confirming the significant difference in their height. "I wasn't asking you," she said.
Despite the fact that she was looking up at her aggressor, Melanie remained defiant. "I know. But you still can't have it."
Just as things were about to escalate, the door to the main building behind them opened, and Joan Landy emerged. "Ah, Melanie," she said as she descended the steps. "I see you've met Regina." She stepped up alongside them and gave the taller girl a pat on the shoulder. "She is quite popular around here."
"Can't imagine why," Melanie said with a shrug, and smiled when she saw the red seeping into Regina's face.
"Well, you'll have time to find out," Joan said, talking Melanie by the hand and leading her up the stairs, leaving Regina fuming. "But in the meantime, the results of your physical show you're healthy, with no infectious or contagious diseases, so it's time for you to be introduced to the rest of the school."
"Uh... what does that involve?" Melanie asked.
"Just a brief assembly," Joan explained. "But first... we need to get you into your uniform."
So Melanie was led inside the building and down several hallways to an empty room with no windows. Waiting for them inside was a member of the staff holding a bundle of clothes.
"It was a tricky thing, Ms. Landy," the staff member explained, "given the fact that the measurements you gave us yesterday were smaller than most of the girls here, but we managed to produce something in her size."
"Excellent," Joan said to her subordinate. "Now, Melanie, dear, I must ask you to empty out your pockets." After a pause, Melanie did as asked, producing her lockpicks and lighter, her change, her dull knife, and all of the snacks she'd tried to smuggle out of the limousine.
Joan laughed when she saw this. "Clever girl. Well, you can keep everything except the snacks." So saying, the staff member gathered the contraband food up into a box. After that, both he and Joan left the room, giving Melanie some privacy so she could change into the same school uniform she'd seen the other girls wearing: black dress shoes and knee-high socks, red pleated skirt, white button-down blouse, beige vest, and a red silk necktie that thankfully was clip-on, as Melanie had no idea how to tie the real thing. As she changed, she wondered what sort of a school would let a child keep a knife, lighter, and lockpicks, but she also remembered that Joan said she would actually be learning useful skills at this school.
After she was dressed in her new outfit, Melanie walked over to a full-length mirror on the wall and stood in front of it. God, I look like a tool, she thought at her reflection. She also couldn't help but notice that the uniform was still a little big on her in spots. She'd had to roll up the cuffs on the blouse so her hands were unencumbered. But still, it was probably better than the uniforms they wore at Juvenile Hall.
Her thoughts were interrupted by knocking at the door. "Come in," Melanie called. Joan entered the room and smiled down at her new charge.
"You look very smart, dear," she said.
Melanie shrugged. "I look like all the other girls here. That's the point of uniforms, right?"
"It's more than that, sweetheart. We are not just a school here, we are a community. And what you are wearing means you are now a part of that community."
Melanie looked unconvinced. "Um... have I joined a cult, ma'am?"
"A community, dear," Joan insisted. "Also, from this point forward, you are now one of my students, so I expect you to address me as 'Ms. Landy.'" Once more, Joan's expression had changed to the same one Melanie had briefly seen at breakfast yesterday.
After a moment, Melanie answered her: "Yes... um... Ms. Landy."
The older woman nodded in approval. "Now then, my driver is delivering the rest of your clothing to your new dorm room, but we can't go there just yet. Follow me, please."
Joan led Melanie out of the changing room, and down several more hallways until finally they came to a door with a frosted glass window in the center, which had the words OFFICE OF MS. JOAN LANDY, HEADMISTRESS etched across it in bold black letters. On the other side of the door was a small waiting area which led into the office proper. Off to one side in this antechamber was a desk, behind which sat a woman, also smartly dressed, who looked to be about ten years younger than Joan. She stood up as Joan and Melanie entered.
"Welcome home, Ms. Landy," the woman said, then picked up some slips which had been stacked crisply on one side of the desk. "I have your messages for you."
"That will have to wait, Candace," Joan said to the assistant. "Right now, I need to get on the PA."
"Of course." Candace picked up a desktop microphone from the other side of her desk, and after switching it on, handed it over to the older woman. There was a brief whine of feedback that made Melanie wince, and then Joan announced into the mike that all the girls were expected to gather for assembly in the next five minutes. It took just a little over that length of time for Joan and Melanie to walk from the office to the main assembly hall. As they entered, all the girls gathered there (from a quick headcount, Melanie guessed there were about forty-nine) stood up from their seats.
"Be seated," Joan told the girls, and ascended a small staircase up onto a stage with a podium and a microphone. She moved behind the podium and motioned for Melanie to come stand next to her. The small girl would have been just fine standing where she was, but she had been warned to follow directions, and didn't feel like testing Joan's limits on the first day. That would come later. So, with a slight tinge of red in her cheeks, she climbed up onto the stage and took a spot alongside the podium.
"First of all, I'm glad to see you were all so well-behaved in my absence," Joan spoke into the microphone. "My assistant did not have any disciplinary reports to show me. So you can all expect a little treat at dinner tonight. And second... I am most pleased to announce that my trip was successful. This..." -she gestured to the petite blonde standing next to her- "...is young Melanie. She will be joining our school and our community. So we now have a full class of fifty students. I want you all to do your parts to make Melanie feel... at home here."
There was an odd pause before Joan spoke those last few words, but Melanie wasn't thinking about that right now. At the moment, she was staring down at the polished wood floor of the stage, wishing she were somewhere else instead of being scrutinized by that sea of faces. She glimpsed Regina sitting in the front rows, her blue eyes fixed on Melanie with a glare that could have cut diamonds. A few of the other girls sitting close to Regina seemed to be eyeing the new girl with... some sort of hunger, the way that dogs might eye scraps from the master's table. And most of the other girls assembled... looked indifferent. Save one: a small girl in the back, her jet-black hair done in a French braid, who regarded Melanie with what looked like genuine curiosity.
"If you could," Joan went on. "Take some time to show her around, help her learn where everything is, introduce her to the other faculty. I myself will be too occupied with my own duties for now, but I'll be checking in on her when I can." She gave another curt nod to the assembled students. "Well, that is all. Dinner is at six, and until then, you all have leisure time. Dismissed!" So saying, the headmistress turned away from the podium, and led Melanie off the stage.
When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Joan got down on one knee in front of the petite blonde. "I'm afraid I have to get back to work now, dear. Are you going to be okay?"
Melanie shrugged. The worst part was over, as far as she was concerned. "I'll manage, Ms. Landy. As long as I don't have to stand in front of any more crowds."
The elder woman chuckled. "Don't worry, child. That will be the last time, I promise. I'm sure you'll be all right. Your fellow students can assist you with any other questions you have." Joan rumpled the girl's golden hair, then rose and left the hall. Melanie lingered behind until it seemed like the last of the other students had trickled out, then she started off in the direction they had gone. She didn't feel like asking any of them for help at the moment. She'd figure things out on her own, like she usually did.
She stepped outside, into the waning light of the westering sun, and as she reached the bottom of the stone staircase, she suddenly felt a fist that seemed to come out of nowhere, smashing hard into her gut. The blow pushed the air from her lungs, bringing Melanie to her knees, gasping and choking. Rough hands then grabbed Melanie by her vest, not even letting her catch her breath, and then the small girl was dragged to her feet, and found herself face-to-face with Regina, close enough for Melanie to once again smell her gum.
"Let's get one thing straight," the taller blonde hissed through clenched teeth, small flecks of spittle flying into Melanie's face with each syllable spoken. "I'm in charge here, and you're just the runt of the litter. That means you do what I say. I ask for money, you give it to me. And if you ever disrespect me like that in front of Landy again... I will put you in a fucking wheelchair!"
The entire time, Melanie just stared at her, unflinching, a smirk of amusement on her face. "You think this is funny, runt?" Regina asked her.
"Hilarious," Melanie answered. "I just can't believe that they put a talking gorilla in charge. How many times a week do they have to shave you?"
A split-second later, Melanie's vision exploded into a haze of stars as Regina slammed her forehead against the smaller girl's face in a headbutt. Her knee then came up into Melanie's solar plexus, knocking the wind from her again, and another swift punch put the small girl flat on her back.
"Ow..." Melanie said in a monotone voice, as if this were routine for her, but other than that she remained sprawled in the dirt, blood leaking from her nostrils, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
"How's that for feeling at home, runt?" She heard Regina ask. "Consider that your only warning." She then heard Regina turn and stalk off across the lawn.
Melanie didn't know how long she'd been laying there with her nose bleeding, when she heard footsteps on the dry gravel. She turned her head, and saw a pair of dress-shoe clad feet standing only a few inches from her head.
"You're lucky she was in a good mood," said the owner of the feet. "She could have broken your nose with that headbutt, but she didn't put her full weight behind it. I can tell. She's done it to me enough times." Melanie moved her gaze upward, and saw the black-haired girl from assembly, the one with the curious eyes, standing over her. The girl smiled and offered a hand to her. "I'm Kimberly."
Melanie ignored the hand and sat up on her own, wiping the blood from her nose with the back of her hand. "I don't care who you are. I'm more interested in why you'd wanna help me."
Kimberly moved into a crouch next to the blonde girl. "Because I was the runt in this school... until you showed up. So I know what you're in for. And in a place like this, you're gonna need allies."
Melanie shook her head, and after a moment, rose to her feet. "I've never needed anyone."
Kimberly stood up next to her, and it was then Melanie noticed that the dark-haired girl was only slightly taller, by maybe a half-inch, if that. "You say that now," said Kim. "But let's see if you still have that attitude in a few days."
"Just watch me," Melanie spat defiantly.
"You can keep telling yourself that," Kimberly said with a shrug. "Or you can admit you're gonna need someone to show you the ins and outs of this place, and how to navigate the social order."
"I know the social order," Melanie insisted. "It's the same as every orphanage I ever broke out of: You have the big bitch, you have the smaller cunts who kiss her ass, and everyone else is their prey. I'll manage on my own."
"Have it your way," said the dark-haired girl. "But still, if you wanna get your nose looked at, the infirmary is in that building over there." She pointed to one of the brick and mortar structures. "Through those double doors, take a left, then the second right, and then you should start seeing signs for it."
"I said I don't need your help!" Melanie repeated.
Another shrug. "Suit yourself, new girl." With that, Kimberly turned and started walking down one of the gravel paths that wound through the pristine grass. Melanie watched her walk away, still suspicious of her. But then she felt and tasted her own warm blood still dripping down onto her lips, and realized that she probably should see a nurse, just to make sure nothing was broken.
She turned and walked in the opposite direction Kimberly was going, remembering the directions the other girl had given. But as she walked, she recited the mantra that had gotten her through the orphanage, the streets, and every broken foster home she'd ever been dumped in.
You don't need anyone. Because other people are only looking out for themselves. They'll say they care, and then they'll leave you as soon as you become inconvenient. You've survived on your own so far, you'll survive on your own here. By looking out for your skin, and not getting attached.
And based on what Joan had told her, she would learn new ways of survival at this school. To make her even more independent. As Melanie continued towards the infirmary, the thought of that made her smile.
ADDITIONAL NOTES
Originally, I had more planned for this chapter, but the word count is already getting high, so we'll put a break here, and continue next chapter.
According to Malin's profile, she likes spicy food and hates bugs. Both of these things were referenced in this chapter.
It's a head-canon of mine that Malin's favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Because in my ficverse, it's also Yuri's favorite soda, so I thought it would be amusing for the two future rivals to have common ground.
Also, if you've never heard of the comic "Milk and Cheese," I suggest you google them. I feel like their humor would be right up Malin's alley.
Well, that's all for now. Next chapter should be up soon, since we're all home-bound right now. In the meantime, please read and review!
